#my migraine hurt too bad i rushed when i noticed how long it is .

[poessiblyfedya]

◟shotasia lore. record 001. post u.s.j attack. ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ important notice 01. this is a selfship lore post set after the villain attack on the u.s.j in season one. ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ important notice 02. anastasia kayama, quirk : feline. she has the senses and agility of a cat. ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ characters recorded. shoto todoroki, anastasia kayama, shota aizawa, nemuri kayama (mentioned), enji todoroki (mentioned), un-named father (mentioned), rei todoroki (mentioned), touya todoroki (mentioned), un-named doctor.

── this came out so much longer than the brainrot in my head but welcome to shotasia before we were truly warm with each other . i haven't proofread i have a terrible migraine shhh . .✦

for most ua students, life was expected to go back to normal after the u.s.j attack. the classes were harmonious in their concerns for the school's security but pre-emptively, they recognised their own mistakes following the panicked craze they ignited days after when press stormed the school. for others, life came in the sound of beeping monitors and sterile equipment, latex gloves and stethoscopes.

shoto todoroki is not one of these students by choice, in fact he's not even injured to the extent of being in the hospital bed for numerous days. with a warm cup of coffee in his hands he had grabbed on the way to the hospital this morning, he's too busy lingering at anastasia's bedside, holding his breath as he waits for her to wake up - something he wouldn't have expected when they were younger.

anastasia kayama and shoto todoroki were never exclusively close. if you squint, their situation could have been childhood friends to lovers had their parents not dug them a hole they have no escape for. time wanes and the older they got, the further they grew apart. shoto wasn't surprised on the first day of class at ua academy to see anastasia's ears pressed to her hair at the mere sight of him.

an arranged quirk marriage, how taboo. japan has long moved past the weird tradition of breeding powerful quirks together, determined to create more powerful quirks in their stead - ones that maybe one day, nobody would be able to control. their forced proximity within class 1-a together has brought communication between the pair and ultimately they figured that endeavour wanted shoto's extreme quirk with her agility.

it's a weird sight for the male with heterochromatic eyes to witness. usually anastasia's ears are so expressive, always twitching and turning at the slightest sounds that she picks up but ever since the attack - no, ever since that damn nomu flung her like a ragdoll while he watched, - they'd been still while she was out. doctors and nurses come and go in waves, almost a new face every day that shoto blurs out when he comes to realise that he's panicking even if it is only the slightest.

she may be his fiancée begrudgingly but she is his classmate first and foremost. her heart monitor has been slowly beeping since she arrived at the hospital, to the point where shoto could have been convinced her heart might naturally be that slow, if it wasn't for the grim looks on the doctors' faces whenever they came to record her vitals. why wasn't she waking up already?

"you've been here every day since the attack, don't you have classes to attend to?" a middle-aged man chuckles as he slides open the hospital room door, stepping in and promptly closing it behind him again. one hand tucked into the pocket of his white coat and the other carrying a clipboard, shoto already knows what he's here for.

he turns his head back to anastasia, her pale skin and unkept hair because she's yet to wake up and groom like he's observed ever since they were kids. occasionally, he gets the urge to reach out and brush strands of dark brown hair but he holds back, keeping a hand at his side as he raises the cup of coffee to his lips.

"principal nezu and mr aizawa released me from class until she wakes, at the least." he states in almost a mumble, his eyes watching the doctor follow the exact same steps as the last one and the one before that. it was monotonous but shoto knows it won't change even when she wakes up.

"ah yes, that makes sense. you're her betrothed, correct?" the doctor looks over from where he's writing on the clipboard in a black pen and shoto raises a brow in brief surprise before the doctor continues, "you're on her records, you're also an emergency contact."

an emergency contact? that makes sense but his eyes fall back to her sleeping form, shallow and weak breaths escaping her parted lips with the help of the oxygen mask he knows she'd be complaining about if only she was awake. he can't see her being the one to have put that emergency contact into place - he settles on it being either miss midnight or endeavour's doing.

"her heartrate... isn't picking up, is it?" shoto asks the question that nags him the most. the doctor pauses, directing his gaze to the monitor before chuckling.

"it won't pick up until she wakes up, she's a cat," he taps the lidded part of his pen against her monitor, his rounded cheeks appearing more rosy in the natural light of the window now he was closer, "she's not exerting her body or moving limbs so her pulse should be resting. if it drops much lower, we'll be more concerned that it's beginning to fail her."

right. she's a cat. shoto sips the coffee in his hand as he leans back in the chair he's pulled closer to her side, his jacket draped over the back of it. if it wasn't for the tail and ears protruding from her small body, he would have completely forgot that the girl he's going to marry carried the feline quirk, let alone was a cat hybrid all together.

"of course," he mumbles in response to the doctor, a slight hint of embarrassment that he could have ever forgotten that about the person he was going to share a last name with the moment they graduate from ua academy, "i've known her for years and it stills feels like i don't know her."

"that's understandable, trauma is common in the hybrid population due to their differences from regular society," the doctor seems to flick through sheets of paper on his clipboard, records upon records of this one girl shoto is supposed to know better, "she's had thousands of quirk dna tests when she was a child but they went from routine appointments to suddenly never coming back for one-"

"quirk dna tests? midnight was watching her quirk develop?" shoto cuts him off blatantly, his brows furrowed as he raises his head and stares straight at the doctor. the doctor clears his throat nervously, shaking his head before the door sliding open interrupts him.

aizawa has been kept at the hospital equally as long as anastasia, though he'd woken up days ago. as the 1-a homeroom teacher and midnight's colleague, he knew he couldn't keep sitting idly in his bed while anastasia was still out cold thanks to his own mistakes in battle.

"it wasn't nemuri who was watching her quirk, it was her bastard of a father," he grunts as his presence is made known, the door sliding shut before he limps over. tired eyes fall to anastasia and shoto notices the faint way aizawa's eyebrows knit together before he redirects his gaze to shoto, "he ain't around for kayama no more but he works in the city's police, a high-ranking asshole."

"ah.. yes.." the doctor awkwardly pushes his glasses up at the hostility of aizawa's words, continuing to study the sheets in front of him as aizawa's eyes narrow in on him, "she didn't develop somnambulist at all, it's entirely her father's quirk."

shoto takes the information in like a shot to the abdomen, his lips hovering over the edge of his cup. a tense silence fills the hospital room and the doctor takes the chance to excuse himself, disappearing from the room to leave teacher and student alone. aizawa takes a seat on the chair placed on the other side of anastasia's bed, not bothered by the silence that followed the doctor's slip of words.

"miss midnight... was in an arranged quirk marriage too?" that's the question that breaks the silence. aizawa hums in agreement, his eyes closed and arms folded over his chest as if he was going to drop asleep perched in his hospital gown.

"her quirk would have been stronger by tenfold if she was as agile as anastasia is now but she didn't develop it at all, not even a slight chance for the future." aizawa grumbles, reaching up to rub his sore eyes - still unfortunately recovering from the excessive use of his quirk during the attack.

"then midnight has more kids-" aizawa is quick to cut him off, sharp and authoritative before shoto could even grasp his own sentence.

"no, no she doesn't. you're looking at her only child. nemuri left and took anastasia the moment she didn't develop her quirk." the silence returns, shoto's eyes widening and his lips parting. the first bullet hit him in the abdomen but now he'd been shot directly in the chest, almost left struggling to breathe as he stares at anastasia's sleeping form.

midnight took anastasia and ran before she was forced to keep birthing kids all for the sake of quirks. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat but it doesn't budge. aizawa observes his reaction, his nails digging into his palms. maybe he shouldn't have told the kid all that information but if he didn't, who would? who would push the two of them closer to fix a broken childhood friendship, forced apart by expectations and standards of two pro heroes?

finally, shoto cracks and his spare hand raises from his side, warm fingers wrapping around anastasia's cold hand. he's careful to avoid the cannula and numerous other tubes and wires, exhaling the weight on his shoulders as he closes his eyes.

if only his own mother had done what midnight had after touya was born. perhaps the todoroki family wouldn't be as cursed and shattered as it is now.

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 21.3k ➠ warnings: cursing, once again everything i know about hockey is from the internet and only for this fic i’m sorry, a couple different blood/injury mentions, needle/injection mention and descriptions, mentions of other medical testing/settings, just chronically ill girlie things 🤪 ➠ genre: fluff, sooo much fluff they’re sooo in love tbh, a bit of hurt/comfort sprinkled in, established relationship, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), christmas-y for a couple scenes in the middle, sequel to buzzer beater ➠ extra info: this is the sequel to buzzer beater, which you should definitely read before this one so you know what’s going on! the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i’m sooo down astronomically bad for hockey player sungchan and i hope you all are too bc take a look at that word count lol. anyway have fun!! ➠ series masterlist | spotify playlist

You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.

i. i will give you my palm to help you walk through the hurtful, want to give you that calm that you have so long searched for

[sicheng: come get your mans]

The random text from Sicheng made you shoot up on your couch. Hockey practice was happening right now, you were expecting Sungchan to come over to your place after—and also to not be getting texts from anybody on the team at the moment.

[you: hello? what?]

[sicheng: no seriously come pick him up he took a puck to the face]

You rushed through the automatic doors into the rink, looking around for any sign of paramedics or— The rest of the team was still practicing, and there was no obvious bright red blood on the ice, that was a good sign, at least. Nobody on the ice seemed to have even noticed your entrance. Okay, so maybe not a huge emergency then.

Taking a couple steps down the hallway that led into the locker room, you called out, “Sungchan? Sicheng?”

“Yeah! In here!” Sicheng replied. “You can come in!”

Throwing the door open, you immediately saw the goalie standing over Sungchan, who was sat on one of the benches, holding a rag up to his face. The white towel was blotted with crimson blood, and you gasped.

“Sungchan!” You darted towards them.

Sungchan lowered his hand, and you could finally see some of the damage. The blood was streaming down from a gash on the right side of his forehead, by his hairline.

No black eyes, though.

He gave you a wincing smile, and you thankfully saw all of his teeth still there. “Y/N, hey...”

You looked down at him incredulously, “How did you even—”

“I’m okay, baby,” he reassured you, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze your forearm.

“That’s not what I said. Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a helmet and visor out there? How did you get a puck to your bare forehead?”

“I’ll leave him to you,” Sicheng declared, backing away from you two. “I’ve got to get back to practice.”

“I wasn’t on the ice,” Sungchan explained. “I was talking to Sicheng by the gate. Rogue puck, he ducked in time, I didn’t.”

You knew whereabouts on the rink he was talking about. The school’s rink was also used for ice skating for some extra money, and had a separate entrance onto the ice for those patrons aside from the entrance from the players’ benches. Since he wasn’t anywhere on the ice, Sungchan must’ve felt comfortable taking his helmet off.

“And you didn’t have your helmet on.”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Open gate, no helmet, rogue puck to the face,” you summarized, taking the towel from his hand to wipe up a drop of blood that had been inching down his temple while you two spoke. It at least wasn’t bleeding as profusely as before, the blood starting to coagulate.

“Really, isn’t it Sicheng’s fault? For ducking? He had a helmet on, he would’ve been fine if it hit him.”

“Mm, of course. Blame the guy with better reflexes than you.” You tossed the rag into the team laundry basket in the corner. “Alright, get changed, I’m taking you home.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a great sigh, bending over to untie his skates, then immediately sat back up. “Woah…”

As Sungchan blinked quickly to get reoriented, you dropped to one knee in front of him to start undoing his laces. “Lightheaded?”

“A bit…”

“I don’t know if I should be hoping for blood loss or concussion.”

After you’d gotten his skates off him, he was able to change out of his uniform and into casual clothes on his own. Slinging his practice bag over your shoulder, you handed his gear bag to him, knowing that you wouldn’t quite be able to manage that yourself. Without even waiting for him, you grabbed his arm to wrap it around your shoulders and snaked yours around his waist, the memory of him getting lightheaded replaying in your mind.

As the two of you left the cold rink into the equally cold December air, you kept an eye on Sungchan for any signs of him needing medical attention beyond your capabilities. Aside from the injury itself, he seemed fine, just with a slightly jutted-out bottom lip as he kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of his feet.

“What’s the pouty face for?” You asked.

“I’m not pouting.” Sungchan resisted.

“Yes you are. You look like a 186-centimeter baby. What’s wrong? Other than your acute case of puck face.”

The pout become even more prominent as he mumbled, “It’s like you’re not even worried about me...”

“Ah, of course I’m worried about my Sungchannie,” you promised, pulling him even closer with the arm you had around his waist. You moved it up to rub his back as you leaned your head against him affectionately. “I’m just so used to seeing guys get their teeth knocked out and their noses broken at your games that when Sicheng said you got a puck to the face, that’s what I was expecting to see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t care. I was just relieved, is all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded firmly. “Besides, I’m clearly worried enough to take you home and patch you up myself.”

“You are?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got this first aid kit that’s about as big as you are. You’re going to be good as new, baby boy.”

His face finally cracked into a smile. “Why do you have a first aid kit that big?”

“It was the only one at the store that came with alcohol wipes. I need them for my monthly injection, to disinfect the injection site.”

“Right.” He squeezed your upper arm. “Of course, the girl that has to have an entire pharmacy in her kitchen.”

You nudged him with your shoulder teasingly, “And my Sungchannie, who has to take hockey pucks to the face.”

Once the two of you had arrived at your apartment, you immediately pointed to your couch. “Sit.”

Sungchan obeyed easily, plopping down without another word. He took off a couple layers now that you weren’t in the biting winter cold, setting them on the cushion beside him as you bustled over to your kitchen.

“My head hurts,” he announced, sounding downright pitiful.

“Really? Your head hurts?” You pouted at him, getting on your tiptoes to pull down your massive first aid kit from your cabinet.

“Uh-huh.”

“Aw, my poor Sungchannie,” you cooed, setting the huge first aid kit down on the coffee table and popping it open.

The apartment heating had kicked on, so you finally took off your heavy parka and overcoat as well, leaving you just in the base lounge clothes you’d been in before you’d hurried to get dressed with the urgent texts from Sicheng.

First, you tipped a couple of over-the-counter painkillers into his waiting hand, and he knocked them back with a sip from his water bottle.

Grabbing a couple alcohol swabs and boxes of bandages, you asked, “Okay, Hello Kitty, spaceships, or Pokémon?”

“Mm… What kind of Pokémon?”

“First gen. I think it’s mostly Gengars and Psyducks left in there.”

“A Gengar please,” he requested sweetly.

You fished a bandage out, pre-ripping the end of the packaging before setting it on the arm of the couch. Standing in between Sungchan’s legs as he was reclined back on your couch, you leaned over him, very gingerly brushing his hair back from his forehead so you could see the injury better. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped between the rink and your place, all clotted blood and the start of scabs. Less thankfully for him, you were about to sanitize all of that. Gently turning his head so you could get better light, you tore open the first alcohol wipe and lightly touched it to the very edge of where you thought the wound started. Sungchan’s forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t make a sound. You continued at your task for another second before he finally spoke up.

“Y/N.”

“Sorry, I know it stings, but I’m almost done.” You promised. “I’d go faster but the lighting isn’t great in here, and some of it goes into your hair.”

“Don’t you think you’d be able to see better…” A pair of hands grabbed your hips, encouraging you closer, closer, down, down, until you were straddling Sungchan's lap, a knee on either side of him. “Like this?”

You were about to make a retort, except this tragically did get your own head out of the way enough to stop casting a shadow where you needed. So instead, you looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“How injured are you, really?” You questioned, pink-tinged alcohol wipe still in hand.

“So injured,” he fake-whined, settling his hands on your thighs.

“I’m sure.” But you made no move to leave, instead leaning in and getting back to work cleaning up the area.

Sungchan provided no more obvious distraction to you as you did so, seeming content to just smooth his thumbs over your clothed thighs and trace shapes there with his fingers. When you were finally able to see where the skin was split, you frowned, using your fingers to part his hair and inspect how far back it went.

“How long do I have, Doc?” He joked.

“You’ll live, but the bandages aren’t going to help the part that’s in your hair,” you forewarned. “That means be gentle when shampooing while its healing.”

“Sounds complicated. What if I mess it up? I think you should do it for me,” he suggested with a smirk, fingertips playing with the hem of your sweatshirt— well, really it was his sweatshirt, but he’d forfeited it to you some time ago.

“Is there something about getting injured that just turns you into a horndog?” You scoffed. For emphasis, you pinched the sliver of skin on his stomach that was exposed where his own t-shirt had ridden up above the hem of his pants and boxers.

He sat up then, forcing you to lean back to avoid smacking faces, but he just chased you forward until you were nearly nose-to-nose.

“No, there’s something about you being so worried and taking such good care of me that makes me want to show you how much I adore… you… back...” He punctuated the last three words with kisses that went up your neck to your jaw.

You looked up at the ceiling, as if pretending to consider this reason. But the happy smile that was working its way across your lips clearly gave away the fact that your mind was already made up. You snaked a hand between the two of you to push him back against the couch by the chest and hold him there.

“Alright, but at least let me put this Gengar bandage on you first, hm?”

ii. you are so beautifully, so brutally out of comprehension, and how lonely i was in the before and after

With a sigh, you rolled over in bed and checked the time. One hour until Sungchan was supposed to pick you up. It felt like somebody was slowly squeezing your head in some kind of medieval torture machine. There was no way this migraine was going away before your date. When it’d come on within thirty minutes of you waking up, you were hopeful that it’d pass and you could still make it, but clearly you had no such luck.

You sullenly drafted your text to him.

[you: hey, channie, im really sorry about this. i know we were supposed to go skating this afternoon but i’ve got a migraine, so i have to cancel]

Of all the dates that you had to flake out on. Sungchan had been really excited to take you to the rink during one of their open skate times, to share something he loved with you, and you were looking forward to it too. While you weren’t the best at ice skating, you were going to have the captain of the hockey team with you, so you hadn’t been too terribly concerned about your safety. The way his eyes had lit up when you said yes in the first place. God... you felt awful. In the back of your mind, you knew that you were just going to reschedule but still, it just made your head hurt worse to think about.

Ten minutes later, and he had texted back.

[channie: do you want some company?]

[you: ah, you really don’t have to. i’m sure you’ve got other things you need to do]

[channie: 1. i already cleared out my day for you 2. i want to be there with you and 3. i’m already outside]

You smiled at the harsh, painful light of your phone screen, reading the third bulletpoint over again as you typed your response.

[you: spare key under the fucked up looking gnome]

The door to your bedroom was slowly opened just a few moments later, and you wordlessly rolled over in bed to make room for Sungchan to slip under your blankets with you. You rolled back over practically on top of him and buried your face in his chest, happy to have something else to block out the light aside from your blackout curtains. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly.

“Hey...” You mumbled a greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as the one from Halloween,” you reassured him, throwing an arm around his waist. “No lobotomizing or anything. Just... hurts.”

“That’s... good, I guess.”

“You put my key back under the gnome? Or did you bring it in?”

“Put it back. Also why do you have that fucked up looking gnome?”

“I saw him on clearance and he was just so horrible, I had to have him. So now I hide my spare key under him.”

You didn’t know if Sungchan had found your answer satisfactory, or just decided to leave the topic be for your migraine’s sake, but he said nothing more. His arms shifted a bit tighter around you, and you could sense his sour mood without even needing to see his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“My Sungchannie…” You said in a hushed, teasing sing-song tone. “You make a terrible cuddle buddy when you’re this tense.” You poked his stomach for emphasis, which was solid as a brick wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He readjusted again, and you did feel his muscles relax a little under you. “You’ve got a migraine, you shouldn’t be asking me what’s wrong.”

“Well, we already know what’s wrong with me. So, what’s wrong with you?”

He let out a deep sigh. “It’s weird. When one of the guys gets hurt on the ice, I can see where they’re hurt and either slap a bandage on them myself or take them to someone who can. But when you’re hurting, my girl... I can’t do any of those things. I hate it.”

“Just you being here makes me feel better, Channie.” You squinted one eye open so you could reach a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. “I promise.”

“If you say so.”

Despite his melancholy words, he turned his head quickly to give a fleeting smooch to the tip of your thumb before you dropped it back down to lay the hand flat on his chest.

“And... ‘your girl?’” You asked slyly, wishing that there wasn’t a thick hoodie between his bare chest and your hand in that moment, as you were sure you would’ve been able to feel his heartbeat jump under your fingertips.

His eyes widened minutely as his head tilted in confusion. “Are-Are you not?”

“No, I am. Definitely.” You contentedly squished your cheek against his front.

“And I’m your guy. Right?”

“As if that could even be a question,” you giggled, the words punctuated by a yawn. “Yes.”

“Good,” he breathed out in relief, and you finally felt him truly relax underneath you. “Uhm, I’m keeping you up, sorry. You should go to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “My sleepy girl.”

“Mm, okay. Goodnight,” you mumbled, rolling over in his arms and letting your thoughts fully drift away.

“Love you...”

Sungchan continued staring down at you as your breathing evened out. The words seemed to have come out of your mouth as naturally as your breaths, and he fought back the urge to shake you awake again so he could say them back to you. Instead, he brushed your hair away from your face, planting a couple gentle kisses on your temple before scooting into his spot as big spoon for today and settling in for the duration of your sleep.

“I love you too,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, letting his own eyes close as he replayed the memory of you saying it first.

You woke up not even knowing your own name.

After taking a few seconds to properly come to and get reoriented from your migraine nap, you turned to your other side, immediately greeted by Jung Sungchan with such a tender look on his face that you had the breath knocked out of you.

Finally, you coughed out, “Hi...”

“Hey,” he smiled softly. “Sleep good?”

“Mhm... What time is it? How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours, it’s almost eight.”

“Cool, there goes my non-existent sleep schedule.”

He laughed quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I mean, blegh, but no migraine. Just... eugh.”

“The way you classify feeling good and bad fascinates me,” he commented.

You shuffled onto your back, staring up at your ceiling. “It’s all relative. One of my good days looks different from another chronically ill person’s good days. Same with my bad days. And no two abled people’s good and bad days look the same either. I mean, before I had migraines, I wasn’t out there being a hockey superstar like you. So yeah, right now I feel blegh and eugh, but in comparison to before my nap, that’s pretty good.”

“Huh.” Sungchan flopped onto his back too. “I mean, I guess I kind of knew that but... never really thought it through like that.”

“It’s a working theory,” you shrugged. “I’ve only been like this for... a little less than four years? And I’ll have these for, you know, the rest of my life. So, I’ll continue to refine it as time goes on.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“What?”

“You’re really going to have migraines for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah. Unless some miracle cure is discovered in my lifetime. It’s a lifelong condition.”

“That’s… damn.”

You let out a chuckle. “It took a while for it to sink in for me, too. When my neurologist mentioned it at my first appointment, it was like, whatever, but now four years later… yeah, it’s really starting to sink in that this is my life.”

“Woah…”

“Anyway, I’m sorry again about ice skating. I know you were really excited for it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll go another day,” he promised. “Thank you for letting me be here, with you.”

You pushed yourself up to sit cross-legged, and put your hand over his that he’d been resting on his chest. “Thank you for coming, Sungchan.”

His face scrunched up. “What’s with calling me that? Am I in trouble?”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys…”

“One of what guys?”

“As soon as they get a nickname or a term of endearment they won’t answer to their government name anymore.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… it feels like I’m in trouble. Like, am I not your Sungchannie anymore? Am I not baby or baby boy to you anymore? I’m no longer Channie?”

“You’re not in trouble,” you told him, slotting your fingers with his. “But… as a literary student, I understand the importance of diction and the symbolism of names.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded firmly.

You snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for being here with me, my Sungchannie.”

He caught the back of your head with his other hand before you could sit up all the way, guiding your lips down to his. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, which neither of you moved to deepen nor rush. When his hand fell from your hair, you straightened back up, smiling down at him fondly.

“Well, are you ready for dinner?” You asked. “I was thinking frozen pizza and very quiet movies. Unless you can’t stay the night.”

“No, I can stay.” He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. “That sounds great. Whatever you want.”

“Perfect.”

You climbed out of bed, taking a second to get to your feet before heading for your bedroom door. Sungchan was still under the covers, though, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You stopped at the threshold of the door, turning around to look at him.

“Channie?”

“Hm?”

“By the way…” You paused, letting silence descend for a couple seconds as he patiently waited for you to finish. “I love you.”

You immediately darted away towards your kitchen, laughing as you heard him scrambling to get out of bed and chase after you.

“Hey, come back!” He cried out, and you swore you heard the thud of an elbow or a knee bumping into a piece of furniture or a doorframe. “I need to say it back to you! Baby!”

You couldn’t run very far, sliding across your kitchen tile on your socks before skidding to a stop in front of your fridge. Sungchan came barreling around the corner right after you, wild-eyed, clutching his elbow and out of breath.

“No fair…” he whined. “You got a head start and I hit my funny bone on your door.”

“Your legs are like twice as long as mine!” You pointed out. “I think that’s just equity.”

“And my funny bone?”

“I’m sorry about your funny bone, baby boy. Want me to kiss it better?”

“In a second.”

“Alright,” you giggled, waiting patiently for him to finish his point.

“You know what’s not equitable?” He asked with his hands on his hips, slowly advancing towards you.

“Aside from you busting your funny bone on my door?”

He’d gotten you in arm’s reach, seizing you by the waist to pull you into his chest again. “You saying it to me twice now without giving me an opportunity to say it back.”

You laughed and wriggled around in his grasp as he held steadfast to you.

“So not fair!” Sungchan complained teasingly, showering your forehead, nose, and cheeks in kisses.

You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not an athlete, you don’t play fair,” he chastised you. “Being so unbelievably cute while I’m trying to prove a point here.”

With another loud smooch to the top of your head, Sungchan let you go, removing you from him and holding you at arm’s length by the shoulders. You raised your eyebrows as you eyed the several kitchen tiles of space between the two of you.

“Very romantic, Channie.”

“Ahh, well I can’t think when you’re so close to me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. However you need to.”

“No, you’re right, come back here.” He pulled you flush to his front again, cupping your cheeks to tilt your face up to look at him.

You looped your arms around his waist, offering him a sweet smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, stroking his thumbs over your cheekbones. Sungchan looked over your features fondly, his lips twitching as he was clearly trying and failing to suppress a giddy grin. “I love you. I love you. And, I love you.”

You chuckled at him having to say it the third time, as your whole body buzzed with joy. Yeah, your insides were never going to un-mush at this rate. They’d been long gone since your first date.

“I love you too, my Sungchannie.” You gave him a gentle kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

iii. i hear the secret whisperings of the world in the curves of all your bursts of laughter

Sitting in a stadium seat at the ice rink one afternoon, you watched the team’s practice as you waited for your boyfriend. Well, half-watching the practice. Now that the semester was over, you wanted to catch up on your personal reading list with the free time.

A sudden bang on the barrier in front of you made you startle and look up from your book. It surprisingly wasn’t Sungchan, but two other players—23 and 24.

You slowly waved at Jeno and Yangyang before turning your eyes back down to your reading. That just started up more fervent banging on the plastic and indistinct shouting from them.

“Oh my God! What?” You yelled back, tucking your bookmark into the pages.

Their words were indistinguishable though, because of the barrier, distance, and the fact that they were talking over each other.

“Hold on!” You huffed. Standing up and picking your way down through the rows until you were directly in front of them, you asked, “Okay, what? One at a time.”

“Are you coming to movie night tonight—” Jeno started.

“—at the Puck Pad?” Yangyang finished.

Your brow furrowed as you stared at their shining eyes as if they had just said a normal thing to you. “I’m sorry, the what?”

“Movie night?” Jeno repeated.

“You seriously think that’s what I’m confused about? I know what a fucking movie night is, Jeno,” you rolled your eyes. “What the hell is the ‘Puck Pad?’”

The two of them exchanged a look before Yangyang spoke up, “Where your boyfriend lives? The house that me, Sungchan, Ten, and Sicheng all rent.”

“The team is having a movie night there tonight!” Jeno reiterated. “We were just wondering if you were coming too.”

You blinked at them. “I’ve never heard Sungchan, Sicheng, nor Ten call the house that. Are you sure it’s not just you, Yangyang?”

Yangyang ignored your question with one of his own, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, Sungchan mentioned some movies at his place tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Awesome!” They said in unison.

“So… the Puck Pad?” You asked abruptly as Sungchan came out of the locker room, your arms crossed and head tilted.

His elated smile dropped off his face as a bewildered look of confusion took over, and his arms fell down to his sides from where he’d been holding them out for a hug. “What…? Who told you about that?”

“So you do call your house that?”

“Look, we joked about that like once or twice when we moved in last year. It’s not like there’s a sign up or anything.”

“And you didn’t want to tell me about this because…?”

“It’s lame and makes us sound like a bunch of losers.”

“But you are.”

“Unh!” He held a fist over his chest as if he were grabbing some invisible weapon that he’d just been stabbed with. Clutching onto your shoulder with his other hand, he slowly started leaning more and more of his weight onto you as he made more fake noises of pain. “Oof! Oh God… Oh, that hurt, Y/N… My own girl… Ugh… Agh…”

Giggling, you had to change your stance to keep the both of you up as he was fully slumped against you. You let out a grunt of exertion as you readjusted to push on his chest and prop him back up into a somewhat standing position.

“Channie, get up!” You complained as he just flopped back over on you, bringing another bout of laughter from you as you struggled to keep the both of you up. “Channie! Seriously, you’re such a baby! Just a big loser baby!”

“Yeah, but I’m your big loser baby, right?” He teased, supporting just enough of his weight to be able to look you in the face as he pouted at you pointedly.

You pinched his bottom lip just a bit meanly. “Yeah, and you’d better not forget it. Now can we go? You do know that the team has been staring like the whole time waiting for us, right?”

The guys were all crowded up by the automatic doors in a huddle, in various stages of pretending not to watch and very obviously looking and snickering among themselves. Donghyuck and Yangyang were in the latter, the two underclassmen feeling rather brave tonight as Yangyang yelled out first.

“Come on, loser baby! We’re waiting!”

“Yang, it was big loser baby, actually,” Donghyuck corrected him facetiously.

“Right, of course,” Yangyang nodded seriously. “Come on, you big, stinking, whining loser baby!”

Sungchan straightened up, all humor drained from his features as he snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Are you ready to go, Channie?” Jeno joined in.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” The captain shot back, grabbing your hand as he started leading the way over.

“Seriously, guys,” you spoke up once you had joined the pack of hockey players heading out of the rink. “Don’t call him Channie, please.”

Sungchan’s house—The Puck Pad—was a close enough walk that on nights like this, where the team would hold movie nights or other team events after hockey practice, the players would all leave their cars at the house beforehand and walk over. So you all had a roughly twenty-minute walk back there now, a gaggle of hockey players, their practice bags, a couple gear bags, and you.

“Why not?” Donghyuck fake-whined.

“Well for one, he asked you not to. That should be enough,” you retorted. “And two, that’s my nickname for him. Come up with your own instead of stealing mine.”

“Since you asked so nicely, okay.”

“Thanks, Hyuck.”

A phone alarm suddenly went off just a moment later, and you calmly turned it off from your watch before rummaging through the tote bag on your shoulder.

“Evening?” Sungchan asked knowingly, watching as you tipped out one pill after another into your palm, then grabbed your water bottle.

“Mhm.” You confirmed before knocking them back in several rounds. The two of you were thankfully towards the back of the group, so they didn’t notice when you had to stop and start every time you had difficulty swallowing your sips of water.

When you closed up your tote bag, took his hand in yours, and continued down the sidewalk at a brisk pace intent on catching up with the others, a frown cut across Sungchan’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to take those with food?”

“Forgot to restock the go bag with snacks yesterday. I’ll live taking one dose without it,” you shrugged. “Besides, we’re going to be at your place soon anyway, I’ll eat there.”

Sungchan reached into his practice bag, fishing out a slightly misshapen protein bar, “Here. Sorry, it got a little crushed.”

“Oh, you don’t—”

He tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then pushed it into your hand that wasn’t holding his. “Y/N, eat it.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

At The Puck Pad—which you were learning, it turns out, the entire team calls the house when nobody else is around—you ended up being pretty glad for the protein bar Sungchan had given you on your way over. You only ate half of it before you got to the house, but the guys were so disorganized that it wasn’t until almost two hours after you’d arrived that everybody was finally settled in the living room with popcorn, candy, pizza, beer (soda and water for you), and a movie playing on the TV.

You and Sungchan had a plush, reclining armchair to yourselves, tucked cozily under a blanket. Sungchan had an arm around your waist holding you close to him as the other moved between his plate that was balanced on the armrest with a stack of pizza slices, and the small end table where your drinks sat. You were happily curled up into his side, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and his chest, and your legs in his lap as you propped your own plate up on your knees to eat from.

The guys had picked a horror movie first—one without jumpscares, as both you and Mark hated them. Blood, gore, body horror, or psychological thriller didn’t faze you, but under no circumstances could you handle jumpscares. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t care for horror movies in general and would only tolerate them if everybody else wanted to watch it. His hard line was jumpscares, though, which you two could agree on. So everybody had checked over multiple websites to be sure that this specific movie definitely didn’t have any jumpscares. Just lots of blood, as you were now finding out.

“Gross, dude…” Mark muttered under his breath from the couch. When you looked over at him, you could see his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the screen with a curled lip of disgust.

“Ugh, he had all those frogs inside him?” Yangyang pretended to gag, not looking away from the screen for a second.

“Good thing Hendery already went home for the holidays, huh?” Ten laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth from where his head was pillowed in Sicheng’s lap.

Chenle, who had also been invited, snorted with amusement. “Hendery would be climbing the fuckin’ walls right now.”

“I’m with Mark, this is fucking nasty.” You shook your head, turning to bury your face in Sungchan’s chest. “Let me know when there’s no more frogs doing gross stuff to people’s internal organs.”

“You can pick next, baby. Promise.” Sungchan wrapped two arms around you. He leaned in even closer to you to whisper, “Please pick something not scary.”

Once the horror movie was over, you proudly picked a Christmas rom-com, making sure to get one that had the perfect balance of a low critics’ score and high audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, was at least as old as you, had a low budget, and starred two famous actors that hadn’t gotten their big break as of filming.

When Jeno tried to grumble, you merely stuck your tongue out at him. “‘Tis the fucking season, Jeno!”

“Oh, fuck yeah! Christmas movie!” Yangyang cheered through a mouthful of pizza, walking back into the living room with a newly filled plate of slices. “Jeno, did we already have this one on our list?”

“List?” You asked with facetious innocence.

“Jeno and I marathon shitty Hallmark Christmas movies every year when we go to his parents’ place on break,” the junior explained, plopping down into his spot next to his friend. “He keeps the list in the notes on his phone, so I wanted to make sure he checked it off if we had it on there.”

While your immediate instinct had been to tease Jeno like the other guys were doing, something Yangyang said caught your attention instead.

“Wait, Yangyang, you go to Jeno’s parents’ place on break? You don’t go home?”

“My parents don’t live here. I’m originally from here, but we moved abroad when I was a kid. They still live there. The holiday break we get for hockey is too short to make it all the way out there.” He shrugged, taking another huge bite of pizza. “Jeno’s family is super cool. His mom about lost it when she heard that I’d be staying at school for the holidays my freshman year, insisted Jeno bring me home. So I go every year now.”

“And you two binge Hallmark movies together,” Chenle cooed, pinching their cheeks in unison. “The bestest of fwiends.”

Jeno shook his head and rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the bright grin on his face when Yangyang talked about staying with his family, or when he snuck his phone out to open the notes app and covertly check something off on a list that you couldn’t quite read from the other side of the room.

The movie ended up being actually a really good laugh. Both intentionally and unintentionally. Some of the jokes still held up after all these years, which surprised you, and also, the movie was just funny bad sometimes, which was even better. You found your cheeks hurting from how much you were laughing by the end of it, and surrounded by similar smiles on your friends’ faces. Which made it all the more enjoyable. The ending was the perfect amount of cheesy, sweet, funny, and satisfying, and felt like the perfect way to finish off your own night.

As the credits started rolling, still with a smile lingering on your lips, you turned to Sungchan, only to find him already gazing fondly at you.

“Oh. Hi…” You squeaked softly, completely caught off guard.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured back. “Good pick, by the way.”

“Not too scary, I hope.”

“Well, I had my girl there to protect me from that terrifying small-town baker and the down on his luck yet equally terrifying single dad, you know.”

The rest of the guys were having a debate about the next movie to watch—Pride and Prejudice (2005), Donghyuck’s idea vs. The Amazing Spider-Man (yes, Andrew Garfield), Mark’s idea. A debate that was expeditiously devolving into a very loud argument, so you weren’t particularly worried about them hearing the quiet, playful conversation that you and your boyfriend were having in the couple of inches of space between your heads.

“Always happy to protect my guy from the horrors of cheesy rom-coms,” you quipped back. “Anyway, I think I’m about done. Unless you want to watch whatever they end up picking?”

Sungchan shook his head minutely. “Apparently Hyuck’s been watching that movie like every day since this girl in his Brit Lit class rejected him like two weeks ago—”

“You need a better fucking coping mechanism than Keira Knightly, dude!” Mark’s exasperated voice rang through the living room.

“Would you rather I take up heroin, then?” Donghyuck screeched back.

“No! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The frat president groaned. “I meant like Tinder or something!”

“Oh, really great advice from my Big here! I should go get myself an STD or 7 because he doesn’t want to watch one movie with me!”

“It’s not one movie, this is the fifteenth time this month, Hyuck! And you know we have condoms in the house, man! Use them!”

“And that’s our cue,” Sungchan declared only to you, nudging you towards the front of the armchair.

You scooted off his lap, getting to your feet and stretching as your boyfriend spoke over the still-bickering Nu Chi brothers. “Alright guys, we’re done for the night. See you.”

A couple of the spectators gave you two ‘goodnight’s, but everyone else was still locked into Mark and Donghyuck squabbling match as the Little was now fake-sobbing into Sicheng’s arms about how his Big couldn’t care less about him and his safety and maybe he should go get every single sexually transmitted disease if it’ll make Mark’s life easier. Mark turned towards the closest wall and started banging his forehead against it as you and Sungchan headed up the stairs.

The Puck Pad was three floors and an attic. All of the shared family spaces were on the first floor: the kitchen, living room, dining room, laundry room, and a half bathroom; the second floor had two bedrooms and one bathroom, currently inhabited by Ten and Sicheng; and the third floor had two* more bedrooms and one and a half more bathrooms, occupied by Yangyang and Sungchan. Being the captain, when divvying up the rooms, the other three just kind of shrugged and gave Sungchan what was technically the master bedroom. It was at the end of the hallway, and while it wasn’t that much bigger than the rest of the bedrooms, it was the only one with an en suite bathroom. You would hesitantly call this a four bedroom house, as you were pretty sure that Yangyang’s room wasn’t actually supposed to be a bedroom. At least not when the house was built. The layout of the bathrooms had been your first clue, with there being just a half bath for him to use—he had to either go down one floor to use Ten and Sicheng’s shower or into Sungchan’s bedroom to use his shower—and the fact that the doors (yes, doors, plural, he had two doors to his very normal-sized bedroom, one of which was the actual entrance and exit from the hallway and the other, which was in an interior wall, could not be opened, despite having a handle and hinges) looked like they had been added decades after the frames had been built. You were stumped as to what the room could’ve originally been, but you were confident that it wasn’t a bedroom, at least. It was something that puzzled and mystified you every time you came over.

Donghyuck and Mark were either done with their spat, or the sounds of it couldn’t carry at the way up here. Either way, you were going to be well onto your way to dreamland soon as you settled down for the night with Sungchan, having done your nighttime routine, changed into your pajamas, and gleefully climbed under the covers.

“Are the other guys staying the night?” You asked Sungchan as he readjusted his pillow next to you to get comfy.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Usually they will if they drink a bit too much, or if they just don’t feel like going all the way home then having to come back this way for Saturday morning practice.”

You made a noncommittal noise, still ruminating over your half-idea in your own mind as you laid there with your eyes shut. The mattress and the sheets shifted beside you as Sungchan curled up behind you, resting a hand on your waist.

“Why are you asking?” He questioned curiously.

“Hyuck…” You sighed, placing your hand over his and slotting your fingers together. “Worried about him, is all.”

“It was some girl in his class that he’d talked to like once in the whole semester. He’ll be okay. Donghyuck’s just got to get the dramatics out of his system first.”

“Even so… Even if he’s just a bit bummed or whatever… Isn’t that what friends are for? To make you feel better when you’re bummed out?” You mused.

“Yeah, I guess so. That’s what Mark’s been trying to do, and he just ended up watching Pride and Prejudice fourteen times.”

You let out a soft burst of air, a quiet chuckle, at that. “Taking one—or, fifteen—for the team.”

Sungchan’s chest shook with a couple silent laughs.

“But really— Can you bring him back here after morning practice tomorrow? I want to take him out. Get his mind off it.”

“Yeah, sure. We can do something.”

“Ah, Channie, I was kind of thinking just me and Hyuck.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you guys pick on him.”

“He picks on us!”

“Baby?”

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I’ll bring Donghyuck back after practice tomorrow for your little friend date.”

You turned your head to be able to press a fleeting peck to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“But I’m making you breakfast. You two will have to figure out something else.”

In the morning, you were faintly aware of an alarm going off early before it was quickly shut off and you rolled over in bed, burying your face in your pillow. Beyond your eyelids, it was still absolute darkness. You could feel the shifting of the mattress beside you and the press of a gentle kiss to your temple as you quickly sank under the calm waters of sleep once more.

You were half-awoken again some time later, a faint light streaming into your consciousness as the covers shifted once again, and a presence enveloped you from behind that hadn’t been there before. Letting out a peaceful sigh, you listened to the sounds of yours and Sungchan’s breathing as they eventually synced up, and you drifted back off without even realizing it.

Fluttering your eyes open, you groaned softly against the bright morning sunlight. After a couple seconds of squinting and blinking, your eyes had adjusted for the most part, and you rolled onto your other side. Sungchan smiled at you fondly as you rubbed at one of your eyes.

“You awake?” He asked quietly.

“Yep, ‘m up,” you offered a bleary thumbs up. “Just don’t make me solve any differential equations or whatever the fuck. Actually, don’t make me do that when I’m at full capacity either.”

He laughed softly, cradling the back of your head to pull you forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning, baby.”

“Mornin’ Channie,” you said back, punctuated by a yawn. “How was practice?”

“It was good. Donghyuck’s playing video games in the living room with Yangyang, by the way.”

“Good, good.”

“I think that was our smoothest Saturday morning yet. Were you able to go back to sleep okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t even remember waking up at all, really.”

“Success,” he grinned.

You momentarily closed your eyes again, enjoying the peaceful moment as you let your body slowly work towards fully waking up. Sungchan gently stroked the backs of his fingers up and down your arm, and you relaxed even further under his touch.

“I like waking up next to you,” he admitted softly. You squinted one eye back open to look at him as he continued. “Doing it twice in one morning… I think that’s the most I’ve ever loved somebody.”

Shooting up just to push him back against the mattress, you held him there by the shoulders, your grip so tight it probably would’ve hurt if he wasn’t already used to much worse on the ice. He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Are you trying to kill me, Jung Sungchan?” You accused. “Saying stuff like that to me first thing in the morning, I could melt into a puddle and never re-form! My heart could explode!”

“You don’t think my heart feels like it’s going to explode when I wake up and see you next to me first thing in the morning?” He huffed back. “That just sounds like equity, baby.”

“You don’t know the meaning of that word.”

“Maybe so…”

With a final shake of your head, you let go of him and fell onto your back next to him. He propped himself up on an elbow on his side so he could see you, the beginnings of a pout on his face.

“And what’s that pout for?” You teased, already with a sneaking suspicion.

“Oh, nothing…” He picked up one of your hands, dropping a line of kisses to the back of it and up your wrist and lower arm.

“Okay,” you played along with a smile on your face. “Because I was just thinking that I’ve been awake for a whole five minutes with no good morning kiss. But if it’s nothing, then—”

You couldn’t even finish your sarcastic dramatics before Sungchan had captured your lips with his in a sweet but intense kiss that pressed your head back into the pillow just a little bit. Curling your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt with your other hand, you pulled him even closer, wanting to just be able to melt into each other completely like it felt like your mouths were doing.

Another alarm suddenly went off in the bedroom, different from the one that had gone off in the wee hours of the morning, and you broke the kiss for just a second to snooze it on your smart watch.

“Oh! Your meds.” Sungchan immediately looked over towards his dresser where your go bag was sitting safely.

“I snoozed it; I’ll take them in a few minutes,” you reassured him, grabbing his face to pull his lips back to yours.

He indulged you for a few seconds until you reached a natural break for air, where he instead pecked your cheek before sitting back on his feet. “I’ll grab them for you, I don’t mind.”

With that, he clambered off the bed and over towards the dresser.

It was impossible to get mad at him though as he so eagerly went to help. You were instead filled with such an overwhelming fondness and joy, unable to do much but smile tenderly at him. “Oh, Channie… thank you.”

“Morning, morning, morning,” he muttered to himself as he rooted through your tote bag to pull out the various pill bottles. “That’s… half of this one, one of these, and… one of this? Oh, and you just added this one, too. And your blood pressure cuff.”

“A-plus, Nurse Jung.” You beamed up at him as you sat up in bed, getting in the correct position to take your vitals with the cuff.

He came over to you, dropping your meds in your waiting palm. You looked over the colorful pills momentarily, pleased to see that he’d gotten it exactly correct. After taking them with your water that was on his nightstand, you held out your hand for him to give you your cuff. But instead, he undid the Velcro and went to loop it around your wrist himself, brows furrowing as he concentrated on the task at hand.

“How’s that?” He asked once he had it secured.

“It’s a little too close to my hand, actually, but good first try.” You undid the band, scooting it to the proper position. “It should be a little further above my wrist bone.”

“Okay. Got it.”

The two of you were silent as you waited for your cuff to take your blood pressure and heartrate, the only sounds that of your breathing and the usual ones of the device in operation. After the final beep and deflation, you brought your wrist down from your chest to look at the screen.

“Is that good?” Sungchan asked, focused on the results as well.

“Well these are my pre-dose numbers. And they’re actually a little lower than normal,” you explained, typing them into your health record on your phone with your free hand. “Only by 10 points, but that means that depending on the post-dose I’ll probably just have to keep a closer eye on my numbers today.”

“So now we set a timer for 30 minutes.”

“Yep,” you did so with just a couple more taps on your phone. “And in the meantime, you make me breakfast like you promised.”

“On it.” He smooched your temple, his hands tentatively reaching towards your wrist. “Can I take your blood pressure cuff off you now?”

“Of course.”

He gently peeled off the strap with a rip of the Velcro, standing back up to put it away in its case. Holding the cuff in its hard carrying case in one hand, he offered his other out to you, and you gladly took it, getting it to your feet.

“Hold on a sec…” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you got light-headed for a moment, bright lights flashing in your vision.

“I got you, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pressing his arm to yours and grabbing your other shoulder with his hand—he must have set your cuff down or put it in his pocket.

Once you felt stable on your own two feet again, which took just a few seconds, you blinked a couple times, then smiled up at him. “Okay, ready.”

Downstairs, you could hear video game sounds as you emerged into the kitchen, accompanied by the muffled shouting of three voices. Yangyang, Donghyuck, and that last one had to be Ten, it wasn’t nearly deep enough to be Sicheng. You sat up in the corner of their kitchen counter to watch Sungchan as he cooked, occasionally in the way, but he never asked you to move, and you never offered. It was a simple breakfast, but nothing could beat the proud, happy grin on his face as he held your plate out to you.

“It looks great,” you told him, patting his cheek. “Thank you, Channie.”

“Anything for my girl,” he replied, absolutely beaming as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. You could feel the curl of his smile against your lips.

The two of you had just taken your first bites sat at the kitchen table when Yangyang and Donghyuck wandered in.

“Something smells good,” Yangyang announced, his eyes immediately landing on your food.

You protectively pulled your plate closer to yourself.

“There’s plenty left in the fridge to make your own,” Sungchan replied, pointing towards the kitchen.

Donghyuck plopped down in the seat directly next to the one that you and your boyfriend were jointly occupying—you were on Sungchan’s lap. The sophomore stared longingly at your breakfast.

“Didn’t you guys already eat?” You asked. “You had morning practice.”

“That was forever ago.”

“You’re not stealing my girlfriend’s food, you ungrateful little shits,” the captain glared at the both of them. “Go make your own if you’re so hungry.”

“First Mark wants me to get chlamydia, now you want me to starve,” Donghyuck bemoaned. “Will I ever have a good role model in my life?”

Sungchan fixed you with a pointed look, but you could only giggle at your friend’s dramatics.

“Daddy issues much, Hyuck?” You ruffled his hair, earning loud cackles from Yangyang, and distant laughter from Ten.

Donghyuck stared at you with a dropped jaw as you heard a couple dumbfounded sputters from Sungchan behind you. The younger player recovered quickly, though.

“What gave it away? My unhealthy attachment to older male friends that I see as reliable, or my ‘I Heart DILFs’ shirt?” He retorted sarcastically.

“You do wear that shirt a lot,” you jested back easily. He owned no such shirt to your knowledge.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.” He clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“As a trainwreck,” you nodded. “You and Yang either go get your own food or shut the fuck up, okay?”

Donghyuck stood up from his chair, giving you an overzealous salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Yangyang went to follow his friend with a shake of his head. “Mommy issues much, bro?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, tucking your face back into the crook of Sungchan’s neck to muffle them just a little bit. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him. You kept laughing, even as he gently brushed his lips over the crinkles at the corner of your eye.

iv. because life is beautiful but life is work, so full of joy, so full of hurt

“So tell me about her,” you prompted Donghyuck as soon as the front door shut behind you two.

“What?”

“The girl that you like. Tell me about her.”

“Sungchan said you wanted to take me out to get my mind off it.” He regarded you suspiciously. “And everyone else is telling me I should just move on, stop moping and thinking about her all the time. Don’t know how talking about her more is really going to help that.”

“I heard that she was in one of your classes this semester and you two talked once. But if you’re this broken up about her… sounds like there’s more going on,” you shrugged. “If you want to tell me, I’m all ears. I know you feel like you have to ham it up for the guys all the time, make them laugh and stuff. But you don’t have to do that for me, okay? You don’t owe me entertainment in exchange for tolerating your presence or something. I’m hanging out with you right now because I want to.”

“I talked to her twice, actually. Not counting when she rejected me,” he began abruptly. “We were in the same Brit Lit class this semester, she sat in the seat in front of me. On the first day of class, she turned around to hand me the syllabus and accidentally bumped my water bottle. She smiled, apologized, and handed me the stack of papers and that was that. It’s so not me but I just, I couldn’t talk to her. It’s not just that she’s pretty—I mean she is, like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen—but she’s so smart too. Whenever she’d answer one of the professor’s questions, she’d say something about the story that I would’ve never thought of in a million years. And like, the professor would be impressed too! But every single time I tried to hype myself up to say something, literally anything to her, I’d end up panicking and not doing it.”

“What was the other time? You said you talked to her twice, outside of when you asked her out. What was the other time, after the syllabus?”

He grimaced. “Ugh, right. I was walking across campus from the library to the parking garage one day. I was supposed to be meeting up with Mark at his car to hitch a ride back to the house. I had one of my sticks with me because I was taking it home to retape it, just sort of slung over my shoulders while I waited at the crosswalk. And it was dark, and I heard something behind me, whipped around to look, and ended up knocking her right in the eye with the butt of the stick.”

“Oh no,” you hissed sympathetically.

“I kept apologizing, but since I didn’t have my gear bag on me, just my bookbag and weapon, I didn’t have anything to patch her up with. She had some tissues in her bag thankfully… but I felt so horrible.”

“Aw, Hyuck, it was an accident. I’m sure she knows that.”

“And I felt even more horrible when I saw her in class a couple days later with that same eye black and blue.”

“Ouch…”

“And then on the last day of class, I caught up with her in the hall after turning in our finals, and I finally did it. I finally asked her out. And she said no.”

You let out a forlorn sigh, looping your arm with your friend’s. “I’m sorry, Hyuck. If it makes you feel any better, I think she’s missing out on a really great, sweet guy.”

“That doesn’t really help, but thanks, I guess.”

“I think it’s good to go ahead and be sad for a little bit, if that’s what you’re feeling.”

He let out a cynical chuckle. “I think my sadness is a bit of an inconvenience for the guys.”

“That’s not true,” you reassured him. “They’re just worried about you. You’re usually this big, unstoppable ball of sunshine. It’s like when one of you gets hurt on the ice, right? One of your teammates will slap a bandage where it hurts and you’ll keep playing. They don’t get why the bandages aren’t enough this time.”

“I don’t know if ‘ball of sunshine’ is a phrase that any of them of would use to describe me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “But thank you, Y/N. I didn’t really know what to expect when Sungchan told me that you wanted to hang out with me 1-on-1 today, considering you don’t really know me like you know some of the other guys. Like, I don’t think we’ve even been alone in a room together before, you know?”

“Huh. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Now I get it, though.”

“Get what?”

“Why everyone thinks you and Sungchan are gonna get married.”

“What?”

“Not like, now, but that you guys are going to, you know, make it, or whatever. Soulmates or something.”

You quirked up an eyebrow at the underclassman. “You believe in soulmates, Hyuck?”

“Yeah, I think I do. And I’m only telling you this because I don’t think you’ll call it stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s sweet,” you reassured him, patting his shoulder. “A jock with a romantic streak, very swoon-worthy.”

“That how Sungchan got you?” He teased, elbowing you in the side lightly.

“Something like that.”

“Hmph.”

“This isn’t the end for you,” you said knowingly.

“I know, I know. Just feels like it.”

“I get it. Next time you want to watch Pride and Prejudice fourteen times, you can call me up, okay? Give Mark a break.”

“Careful, I might take you up on that.”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. But for now, arcade?”

His eyes lit up at you finally revealing where the two of you were going. “Oh hell yeah! I’m so going to annihilate you at air hockey!”

“Don’t count on it,” you warned. “Sungchan’s taught me a few things.”

“Hey, baby, I’m back—” Sungchan skidded to a stop in the threshold of his bedroom, bag of delivery food in hand.

“Hey, Channie,” you smiled up at him as you were sat against his headboard. Donghyuck was curled up on top of the blankets by your legs like a cat, his head in your lap as you gently played with his hair.

“I was gone for like a minute,” your boyfriend gestured to the sophomore with bewilderment. “Does he just have a sixth sense for when you’re alone?”

“I told them they could join us for a movie.”

“Them?”

“Yo, you mind, bro?” Another voice piped up, Yangyang ducking under your boyfriend’s arm to walk in. He flopped across the foot of the bed, partially on Donghyuck’s legs.

“Oh, hey, Sungchan,” Jeno almost sounded surprised to see the captain in his own room as he followed his teammate in, laying down on his front with his arms and head resting on Yangyang’s back, and his feet up by the pillows.

“Well, I didn’t order enough for all of you,” Sungchan sighed, climbing over Jeno to settle into the empty space left beside you. “And no filching off Y/N, Donghyuck. Go downstairs and get your own food if you’re hungry.”

Hyuck tried to protest, “But—”

“Two of you don’t even live here, be grateful I let you eat as much as I do from our fridge, you’re not also getting the dinner that I bought for me and my girlfriend.”

“Fine. I’ll text Mark to bring snacks.”

“Mark, too?!”

Walking back with the guys to the Puck Pad after the last hockey practice of the calendar year, there was an elated buzz in the air now that the athletes were all finally on their own winter break. They were going over their plans for their short break: Jeno and Yangyang were going to Jeno’s parents’ the next day, Ten and Sicheng would both be leaving for their own homes tonight, meanwhile Mark and Donghyuck were both from the area, so they were staying at the Nu Chi house and just meeting up with their families on the holidays.

Realizing that you and Sungchan hadn’t really talked about your holiday plans yet, you peered up at him, about to ask, when suddenly your head started feeling light. You furrowed your brow, trying to blink away the momentary confusion as whatever you were about to say had slipped from your mind. Your head didn’t feel right on your body, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly it was.

Sungchan took just one look at you before letting go of your hand to instead grab your upper arm to steady you. His other hand went diving into the pockets of the practice bag in front of you, fervently searching for something.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Jeno, the owner of the bag, whipped around to look at him incredulously.

“Where’s your snacks?” Sungchan was fumbling into another pocket now.

“Ate them already. I’m bulking.”

“Dude, bad idea,” Ten snorted.

“Shut up, Ten!”

Sungchan had started ransacking another teammate’s bag, and successfully pulled out a sports drink this time.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Yangyang protested.

Your boyfriend stopped and sat you on a bench nearby, cracking open the drink. “Y/N, here.”

“Bad idea to what?” You squinted your eyes up between Ten and Jeno curiously.

“Why does she need—” Yangyang was still complaining.

“Jeno’s been talking to Sugar n’ Spice,” Donghyuck answered your question, mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who—” You mumbled, but got cut off by the bottle being pushed against your lips insistently.

“Y/N,” Sungchan’s stern voice refocused you, and you obliged, taking a small sip of the sugary drink.

Ten continued filling you in, “Sugar n’ Spice and Everything Nice. One of Johnny’s old girlfriends.”

Jeno crossed his arms with an indignant huff, “They were not—”

“And who are you really going to believe? Johnny or her?” Donghyuck retorted.

“You didn’t even go here when they—”

“Guys, shut the hell up!” Mark finally snapped at all of them, gesturing to your general unwell demeanor.

“Oh shit dude.” Yangyang’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Bro, she does not look good,” Jeno stated the obvious.

“She’ll be fine in a minute,” Sungchan replied, holding the bottle back up to your mouth. His voice was firm but gentle as he instructed you, “Y/N, drink some more.”

“Anyway, Jeno, no matter how much you bulk, it’s not going to make up for the inches you’re missing. Height or otherwise,” Donghyuck taunted nonchalantly.

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to break your fucking nose, come here!” Jeno lunged for the underclassman, only making him yelp and dart away.

“Don’t—!” Mark’s warning was cut off as Jeno chased Donghyuck down, his voice fading out as he sighed and finished quietly, “...Cause any permanent damage...”

“You okay, Y/N?” Sicheng asked, as you took a couple more small sips.

You nodded. “Just a bit low, uhm, blood sugar. I’ll be okay.”

It always took you a few minutes to realize when you were low on your own, but Sungchan could tell with just one glance at you—it made you wonder what you looked like when you got like this.

Back at the Puck Pad that evening, you had already said your goodbyes to Ten and Sicheng; and Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were upstairs in Yangyang’s room allegedly helping him pack. Judging by the video game sounds you could hear from the bottom of the stairs, they had gotten a little distracted. Sungchan and you had settled down in the living room to watch a movie, and with the fog lifted from your mind, you were able to remember what you were going to ask him earlier.

“Hey, Channie?” You picked your head up from his chest to be able to look at him. He was laying on his back across the whole couch, you snuggled in on top of him.

“Hm?” He looked from the TV to you.

“What are your plans?”

“Oh. Well…” He paused the movie, his hands coming to settle on your lower back and sneaking just under the hem of your (his) hoodie to trace spirals into your skin. “Our lease ends after graduation, and Yangyang’s been talking about looking for a place with Jeno, and Ten and Sicheng are probably going to get their own place. I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but every time I try to think what I’m going to do, I just imagine that we would move in together.”

Your dumbfounded silence encouraged him to go on, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.

“Like, I don’t know, being able to wake up next to you everyday, and sleep in on the weekends with you with no practice. Cooking breakfast for you every morning, even just grocery shopping together. It’s all I can think about, really.”

You finally choked out, “I-I meant for the holidays. Like, visiting family, being in town…”

His cheeks started flushing. “Right. Sorry. I’m visiting my family on Christmas Day. What about you?”

“Me too.”

“We should spend Christmas Eve together, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. New Year’s, too?”

“Of course. Who else would I kiss at midnight?”

A fond smile spread across your lips, and you tilted your head up to give him a peck. “Of course.”

“So, uhm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “The other thing I mentioned?”

“What are you doing after graduation? Made a decision about that PhD program?”

“Yep… more school,” he sighed.

“Me, too.” You pulled a blanket up over you two. “I think… Yeah, we can move in together. I’d really like that.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so happy, baby.”

“You could just move in with me? To my apartment?” You suggested as a grin spread across your face. You were getting giddy already imagining it.

Another forehead kiss. “I would love that.”

“You make me really happy too, Channie,” you murmured, your fingertip tracing mindless figure-eights into the front of his shirt.

“I love you so much.” He cradled your face with two hands with a tenderness that made your heart ache to be a part of him in a way that you could never physically attain.

You leaned in to touch your nose to his. “I love you, too.”

Christmas Eve was just a couple days later, and instead of walking in the park amongst the freshly fallen snow, or touring the elaborate lights put up in the rich neighborhood nearby, or baking Christmas cookies while watching cheesy Christmas movies, or any of your other cute Christmas plans with Sungchan, you were bedridden with a migraine. A bad one.

You let out a soft whimper as tears welled up in your eyes, both from the pain and from pure frustration at having something else ruined for you because of these stupid migraines. Ice skating you could reschedule, but you couldn’t take a rain check on your first Christmas (Eve) together.

Sungchan curled his arms around you tighter, a steady pressure across your back. “It’s been two hours,” he murmured as quietly as possible.

“I don’t want my stupid fucking medication that isn’t fucking working,” you practically spat out, the first tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sungchan pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, careful to avoid your scalp, which currently felt like it was on fire in addition to your usual squeezing and stabbing migraine pain. Side effect from a new rescue medication your neurologist was having you try. Safe to say it wasn’t a winner.

At the distress in his own tone over his usual regrets of seeing you hurting but not being able to help, you finally broke down into open sobs. Clenching your eyes shut tight, you clung to his arms. Your chest shook with every breath as you quietly wailed, burying your face in your pillow. You couldn’t bear to turn around and see the angst on your boyfriend’s features.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “If I could take all your pain away and put it on myself, I would. God, I’m so, so sorry.”

You could hardly talk past the solid, hard lump in your throat, at first letting out a couple more strangled sobs as your tears and spit ruined your pillowcase. When you finally blubbered something out, your voice was distraught and despondent, “Why can I never… never have nice things? Why does it feel like the world is so big and nothing can go right and it all hurts so much… and I’m just so small and my body and my brain are… so broken?”

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know,” Sungchan replied desperately, fully weeping with you into your shoulder now. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

You eventually fell asleep, but unlike your typical migraine naps, this one didn’t bring any sort of peace to Sungchan’s mind. Usually the naps were a good sign, you would wake up without the migraine and be relatively all better. But you’d never cried yourself to sleep during a migraine before, and having to hold a bawling you in his arms while he couldn’t do anything but apologize for being absolutely useless had left him shaken up. He didn’t think he’d be able to nap with you this time.

Sungchan didn’t dare move, keeping watch over you as you slept as if he could keep anymore pain away. He could still hear the echo of his heart breaking into a million pieces the moment you’d started crying.

Your head still fucking hurt. But this was a different throbbing than before, and was definitely from the heavy crying you’d done earlier. You groaned, covering your eyes and sniffling.

You could hear Sungchan’s breathing next to you, but he didn’t say anything as you rolled over to bury your face in his neck. Letting out a deep sigh, you found that you were dried out, unable to summon more tears. Finally, you spoke, “What time is it?”

God, your throat was dry.

“Six forty-five…” he replied softly.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Channie,” you grumbled.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Do you think it’s too late to go see the Christmas lights?”

You could feel him tense up under you.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to make yourself do anything for me, baby,” he reassured you, rubbing your back.

“I want to…” You insisted. “I just… probably need my earplugs. And sunglasses.”

“Of course, whatever you want.”

“And then we can come back and do eggnog pancakes?” You asked hopefully. The migraine had started right before Sungchan could start cooking this morning, so you weren’t able to enjoy your promised festive breakfast prepared by your boyfriend.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And then presents.”

“Like I said, anything my girl wants.”

And so Sungchan drove you around in his car with the radio off, your sunglasses on like it wasn’t dusk right then, and earplugs in to drown out the sounds of passing traffic. The two of you were silent through the whole ride, communicating solely by squeezing the other’s hand that was laced with yours over the center console, pointing at any lights and decorations that either of you particularly liked, and smiling and nodding in acknowledgement.

When you got back to your apartment, you took off your sunglasses and earplugs to plop yourself down at your kitchen table while Sungchan once again brought out ingredients. He hummed Christmas carols while he cooked, and you rested your cheek in your hand to watch him fondly as he bustled around.

Your head was still throbbing, and you winced as you pulled your hood up and gathered your knees to your chest. As Sungchan opened the fridge to put the eggnog away, you saw him pull something else out, a familiar box.

“When is your injection?” He asked quietly, holding the container up.

You scrunched your nose as you brought out your phone to check your calendar. “It’s… oh shit, today.”

“I’ll leave it out to warm up.” He set it on the counter before going over to your stove and setting a timer for an hour.

You were supposed to wait at least 30 minutes after the medication left the fridge to inject it, but you liked to wait closer to an hour or two to make sure it had fully come to room temperature, to reduce any injection pain.

The pancakes were ready soon, and Sungchan and you ate them on the couch, the odd bits of conversation floating around between bites.

“So what are you and your family doing tomorrow?” Sungchan rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh, dinner’s at my parents’ place. I’ll pop over to Chenle’s family’s Christmas, too. They’re just across the street,” you hummed. “We don’t do a lot, but everyone comes over, so it’ll be a packed house.”

“That’s nice.”

“What about you, Channie? Any Christmas traditions?”

“You’re eating it,” he said proudly. “My dad always makes eggnog pancakes on Christmas morning. Then we go to my grandparents’ house for the day.”

You couldn’t wade through the slop that your mind was covered in to be able to aptly express how you felt about Sungchan sharing one of his family’s Christmas traditions with you, so instead you turned your head to press a long kiss to his cheek, squeezing his forearm appreciatively. He seemed to get the message, and moved his head to be able to kiss you gently.

“I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled against your lips. Then, pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “I’m so glad we got to spend today together.”

You couldn’t help but bite down on your tongue bitterly at that. “Yeah, I love you too, Channie.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My stupid migraines ruined our day! Again!” You turned away from him, dropping your face in your hands.

Immediately, one of his large hands rubbed your back while his other came to rest on your knee. “Baby, baby, my day wasn’t ruined.”

“We didn’t get to do anything how we wanted, and all I did was cry and make you cry!” You felt your eyes growing wet again. “And I’m fucking crying again!”

“I really do wish you hadn’t spent all day in pain,” he admitted. “You deserve to have the perfect Christmas Eve like all the cheesy rom-coms you like. But please don’t feel like you ruined my day or anything. I spent the whole day with my girl, which is a perfect day in my book.”

You wiped at your face messily, looking over your shoulder at him. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Even though I made you cry on Christmas? …Eve?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been fair for you to be the only one of us who did.”

That finally made you chuckle, and Sungchan gave you a soft smile in return as he pulled you into him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying his warmth.

“Thank you, my Sungchannie,” you mumbled. “For being the most wonderful boyfriend in the whole universe.”

“The whole universe?” He repeated skeptically.

“Yep. Not even a competition.”

The kitchen timer went off then, and he gave you a final shoulder squeeze and peck to your temple before standing up and heading into the kitchen. He returned with your medication and stupidly large first aid kit. Popping the first aid kit open, he dutifully started pulling out an alcohol wipe, then an antihistamine. Sungchan had been around for your last injection by happenstance, and watched your every move carefully, so you weren’t surprised that he was able to get everything ready now.

“I don’t need that unless I break out,” you tried to point out. You weren’t allergic to the medication, but sometimes you got hives around the injection site within the first day or so just from it making your skin more sensitive.

“Baby, you always break out,” he insisted, presumably remembering when you started reacting less than an hour later last time, and all your stories about other post-injection reactions.

“No, there’s been like… a couple times I haven’t.”

He pointedly set the antihistamine down with the alcohol swab, then held up the bandage options for you to choose from.

“Mm… Sanrio,” you nodded to your newest addition. “I want a Kuromi.”

He fished out a bandaid with a Kuromi pattern on it, setting it aside. You broke the seal on the medication box as Sungchan walked into the kitchen. At the sound of running water, you looked up curiously, watching as he thoroughly washed his hands to the elbow like he was about to scrub in for an operation.

As he sat back down beside you, he held out his hands. “Can I do it?”

You froze, freshly opened box in hand. In the nearly two years that you’d been taking the injectable, you’d always done it yourself. Even your first demonstration dose at your neurologist’s office you’d done on your own to learn how to operate it. It had never occurred to you to ask anybody else to, really. Technically, the directions said you could, but you lived by yourself, had always been alone.

“If you’re okay with it,” Sungchan added after a couple beats of silence. “It’s fine if you want to do it yourself. I get it. You’ve just had a really long day, I want to help.”

“They say someone else can do the back of your arm…” You looked down at the small card of directions that you picked up out of the carton, a diagram highlighting all the possible injection areas. “But I want to be able to see it. So you’ll still have to do my thigh.”

“Okay.” He nodded seriously, accepting the box as you handed it to him.

He took a moment to study the instructions very carefully, and you opened the bandage in preparation. When he set the directions down and picked up the alcohol wipe, you rolled up the leg of your shorts and readjusted in your seat.

“I usually do it here.” You pointed to a spot, and he wiped the cool material over the area thoroughly.

Next, he grabbed the auto-injector from the box, pulling the cap off the end and dropping it back in the carton. You consciously tried to level your breathing as he paused to read the directions one more time. Sungchan pinched your skin and pulled it apart until it was properly taut.

“Do you want a countdown?” He asked.

“No, but hold on, I need to relax my muscle.” You flexed and eased your thigh a couple times, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, good.”

You kept your eyes focused just off to the side of the injection—you’ve never been able to watch needles go in you that you weren’t operating yourself, but you couldn’t fully look away this time. So instead, your gaze was on Sungchan’s forearm, the auto-injector enough in your peripheral that you could tell if something were to go wrong.

He pressed the blunt plastic tip against your skin. As requested, you had no countdown before the near-simultaneous click of the pen and prick of the needle came, followed by the stinging pain of the medication being pumped into you. You let out a slight hiss, already counting in your mind. The built-in indicator that meant the injection was over was displayed on the pen already, but you noticed that Sungchan kept holding it there until you reached your fifteen-count in your head. He had remembered from when he watched you last time, and must have been counting himself. The directions said to leave it in until the indicator showed, about 15 seconds, but you always liked to count to 15 seconds just in case, something you’d mentioned off-handedly last time.

As soon as he took the injector out and tossed it in the box on the table, you watched as a dot of blood and clear fluid—medicine—welled to the surface. Sungchan rushed to pull the bandage out, applying it to the site, catching the drop just in time before it fell down your leg. He gingerly smoothed down the ends, Kuromi smirking back up at you two.

Sungchan took the empty auto-injector into your bedroom, and you heard the telltale sound of it clanking into the plastic sharps disposal bin you kept under the bathroom sink. When he came back, you were already picking up the trash and closing up the first aid kit.

“Don’t forget your antihistamine,” he reminded you, holding out the tablet and your water bottle.

With your hands full, you leaned forward to take a sip from the straw of your bottle, then opened your mouth like a baby bird for him to drop the pill into. You swallowed it with slight difficulty, but he seemed content that you’d taken it, at least.

After everything was cleaned up, you meandered back into the living room, stopping in front of the couch to inspect the injection site with a pout.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Sungchan sat forward, brow furrowed with concern.

“Hurts…” You whined, flopping down next to him. “It didn’t use to burn after like this, but ever since my neuro upped my dose last month… it hurts.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he pulled you closer to him with two arms around your waist.

You made a small ‘humph’ sound, habitually poking at the injection site. Ow, dumbass.

“Thank you, baby,” Sungchan mumbled into your neck. “For letting me help you.”

The genuine relief in his voice made you smile to yourself. You knew how cut up he was every time he couldn’t help during your migraines, and at first you didn’t get why he wanted to do your injection this time. After all, this was the same guy who had you come with him to get his blood drawn for his routine drug testing by disguising it as an ice cream date then suddenly remembering that he had to stop by the student health center on the way there (and jumped at your offer to come back with him to hold his hand instead of waiting in the lobby). But in his mind, doing your injection must’ve been the best he could do to help prevent you from hurting again like he’d seen today.

“Why are you the sweetest boy ever?” You whispered, kissing his hair.

Sungchan let out a muffled giggle. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Mm, I don’t know,” he hummed playfully. “Think I was born like this.”

“We’ve got to make sure you don’t go out in the rain, or you’ll melt,” you teased.

“I mean what I said the other day, you know. Just didn’t want to scare you… but I really do think this is the most I’ve ever loved someone. I know it hasn’t been that long, and it always feels like I’m rushing stuff with you, but it just always feels right. Everything always feels right all the time with you.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into when you said ‘I love you’ on our second date,” you reminded him, fond smile flitting across your lips.

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” he grumbled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you were so adorable when you tried to pretend like you didn’t.”

“You were wearing my hoodie and had whipped cream on your nose and you were just so… perfect,” he defended himself, trailing off into a dreamy sigh. He smooched your cheek loudly. “Still are.”

You laughed, squirming a little bit at the sudden attack of affection, but not moving away as he peppered more overzealous kisses to your face. You instead cradled his cheek with one of your hands.

When he’d finally stopped to rest his chin on your shoulder again, you responded a bit more seriously to him, “I love you too… a lot. I don’t really have any romantic metric, to be honest. Migraines have sort of made it hard to date… or inconvenient, at least. But you need to know that I really do love and appreciate you so, so much, my Sungchannie.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he nodded just the slightest against you, gently rocking the two of you side-to-side.

You grabbed one of his hands to play with his fingers, slightly calloused from the weightlifting you knew was part of his mandatory hockey conditioning. Hockey season was already halfway over. His last season. You couldn’t imagine Jung Sungchan not playing hockey.

“Channie?”

“My girl?”

“I know we already talked about moving in together after graduation, but… What are you going to do after hockey’s over? I kind of can’t picture you not on the ice.”

You could feel him take a deep breath, and his free hand came to join the fray as it found one of your wrists. Specifically, the one that sported a thick blue and orange paracord bracelet with five plastic alphabet beads on it—2-7-J-S-C—that every hockey player made their freshman year. Sungchan gave you his not too long ago, on your one-month anniversary.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t make himself say it any louder. “I’ve tried to think about it too and… I can’t. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I don’t… really have anything else. Just school, hockey, and you.”

“We’ll find you a hobby or two,” you promised, squeezing his hand. “Maybe you can take piano lessons again.”

He chuckled, letting you gently curl and uncurl his crooked pinky, the one he had broken that made him stop playing in the first place. “I don’t know… I think that might be gone for me.”

“If it’s something you really liked, you should do it,” you insisted. “It would just be for fun. I think it’d be nice, if you found the right teacher.”

“Well…”

“If you want to, Channie. I’m just brainstorming here.”

“Hockey season’s not over yet,” he pointed out. “We can circle back around in the summer.”

“That’s true, that’s true,” you agreed. “You should be savoring every moment right now, not letting me make you prematurely existential. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forward-thinking, baby, I appreciate that.”

“But it’s your last season, you don’t need me reminding you of that all the time.”

“Then why are we still talking about it, hm?” He said, mischievous smile on his face.

“We’re not! We’re not!” You held your hands up in surrender. “It’s present time! I swear!”

Sungchan laughed as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hi, Mr. Zhong!” You were beaming as you walked into Chenle’s house the next day, immediately being wrapped in a bear hug by his dad. “Merry Christmas!”

“Y/N! It’s been too long, too long,” he complained as you went to hug your best friend next, who had also come to greet you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Chenle hugged you tightly.

“Merry Christmas, LeLe.”

Letting go of your friend, you turned back to his dad, who was still waiting for a response, his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zhong,” you bowed your head in apology. “We just get so busy with school and—”

“Yeah, Y/N’s been really busy with her new boyfriend!” Chenle announced loudly, making sure that every occupant in the whole house could hear him.

“Y/N! You have a boyfriend?!” Mrs. Zhong called from the kitchen.

“Boyfriend?!” Mr. Zhong echoed in shock, his eyes going comically wide.

You were already smacking Chenle on the head and pinching his ear furiously. “Zhong Chenle, you little— I’m going to kill you!”

Chenle jerked out of your grip and ran away, you hot on his heels. He ran right into the kitchen, where his mother and several aunties immediately swarmed you.

“Y/N!” Mrs. Zhong grasped you by the wrist, pulling you over towards the stove where several things were cooking. She grabbed a spoonful of something from a bubbling pot and held it out towards you to try. As you leaned forward to taste it, she asked, “So, who is this boyfriend Chenle is talking about?”

“Is he handsome?” Another woman asked.

“Does he hold the door open for you?”

“What’s his name?”

“Does he know how to cook?”

“Do we know him?”

“Does he have a job?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Show us a picture!”

You choked on the rather delicious spoonful of soup that you’d just taken as you heard Chenle’s cackling laughter in the background. Wiping your mouth, you turned around to shoot him a glare before answering some of their questions.

“His name is Jung Sungchan, he goes to the same college as Chenle and I. We actually all had a class together a few years ago,” you started off slowly.

“Pictures, Y/N!” One of the aunties insisted.

“Yeah, Y/N, show us pictures!” Chenle repeated. “Or I will.”

“I will end you,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled out your phone. Flicking through your gallery, you found a few that you really liked.

They were from his last home game, and these in particular were taken by Taeyong, as it had been the game against their league rivals, which drew in the graduated Nu Chi brothers and team members. You pulled the first one up, him still in his uniform as you had gone down to congratulate him right on the ice. He was towering over you even more than normal in his skates, an arm around your shoulders as you wrapped both of yours around his waist, the two of you smiling at the camera. As you went to show the picture to everyone, your skin started growing hot with the ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s that sprang up among the women.

“He plays hockey for our school, he’s actually captain.” You grew even more embarrassed as Mrs. Zhong zoomed in on Sungchan’s face.

“Chenle,” she looked up at her son with squinted eyes. “Is this your handsome friend who brought you home when you were drunk?”

“Mom, that was one time three years ago,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Chenle,” she said sternly.

“Yes, that’s him.”

Her face broke into a lovely smile. “Oh, I liked him. Very polite.”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. You still talk about it.”

“When was this?” You asked your friend with bewilderment. The two of you did everything together, including getting embarrassingly shitfaced as freshmen. Or, Chenle would get embarrassingly shitfaced and you would watch, thanks to your migraine meds.

“There was a Nu Chi party, after the Halloween one…” Chenle explained, and you appreciated him leaving out the details of the Halloween party in front of all these people. “Long story short, I didn’t realize how strong the punch was. Sungchan gave me a ride home.”

“Very polite, very handsome,” Mrs. Zhong nodded approvingly. She swiped to the next picture for you, this one of Sungchan kissing your cheek as you laughed and grabbed his jersey.

They all tittered and made various comments and approving noises, and you quickly turned your phone off and put it away bashfully.

“So, yeah… that’s him,” you finished awkwardly among their disappointed noises of you taking away the photos.

“I like him.” Chenle’s mom patted your cheek before turning back to the stove. “And if he gives you any trouble, you know Chenle will…”

“Mom did you see him? What do you think I could possibly do?” Chenle retorted. “He literally carried me in here over his shoulder, I don’t think I could really defend Y/N’s honor if it came to it!”

“Chenle…”

“Fine, Mom!”

v. i sat across from you, reading ulysses; and whilst i tried to project some intellect i’m not convinced i knew what it all meant, but i did know that the words were so pretty

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Sungchan mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder.

You giggled, brushing some of his hair from his face. “Hmm, a couple times.”

“What?!” His head snapped back up, distress on his features. “Only twice?! God, what kind of boyfriend am I?”

The two of you were back in the team’s favorite dive bar, this time after the last home game of the season. It had been a smashing victory—in addition to the seniors’ last time to play a game on their home ice—meaning that everyone, including all of the long-graduated players and Nu Chi Tau brothers who had shown up, were celebrating extra hard tonight. You’d driven your car specifically to allow Sungchan to let loose for the occasion, hence his currently more-than-buzzed state.

He’d pulled you into his lap at the corner booth you were sitting at some time ago, morphing into the lovey-dovey cuddle monster that he always was when tipsy. Not that he exactly kept his hands to himself when he was sober either, but as soon as alcohol entered the equation, it was like he thought he’d die if he weren’t holding you at all times.

“I was playing, baby, you tell me that all the time,” you reassured him.

“Oh, good.” He breathed out in relief, going back to snuggling up to your shoulder. “Because you’re sooo pretty. Like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Channie.” You kissed the top of his head. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

“You do?”

“For sure.” You traced the line of the bridge of his nose. “My pretty boy.”

He hummed contentedly, but didn’t say anything more, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Ten, Taeyong, and another graduated Nu Chi brother, Kun, came over to your booth then, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Is he asleep?” Taeyong gestured to Sungchan.

“No, just a cuddly drunk,” you explained with a fond chuckle.

“‘M not drunk…” Your boyfriend protested.

“Tell that to the victory shots you were doing with Hyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang an hour ago,” you snorted, pushing your glass of water over towards him. “Here, some water, Channie.”

Kun offered out the half-eaten basket of onion rings that he’d walked over with. “Have some of these, too, Sungchan.”

“Sweet, thanks!” He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth happily.

“Thanks, Kun,” you smiled at him. “He didn’t drink on an empty stomach, so we should be ready to go in a bit. I want him mostly able to walk on his own two feet before we leave, though. Carrying a drunk Chenle and drunk Sungchan would be very different experiences, I feel.”

They all snickered, and you looked over at where your friend was currently pulling all of the cash out of his pocket to bet on a pool game between Johnny, Jaehyun—a former hockey player who had graduated last year, Jungwoo, and Yuta—former hockey player and Nu Chi brother, from the same cohort as Johnny. It looked like Dejun was running the betting pool, collecting Chenle’s money in addition to Hendery’s, Mark’s, and Hyuck’s.

“I feel like we should do something about the gambling happening over there…” Taeyong sighed, having been looking in the same direction as you.

“Probably,” Kun agreed, though neither of them made any move to get up. They simultaneously took swigs of their drinks.

“Y/N, what did you think of the reading for Direct Study?” Ten asked you, resting his very pink cheek in his hand.

“Oh, I thought it was fantastic!” You lit up. You and Ten both had Dr. Son for a Direct Study course this semester, and he was letting you two collaborate since you had such similar tastes in literature—you had a feeling  your professor also liked having only one reading list and being able to meet with the both of you at once instead of separately. “I’ve always loved that author, though. The way her short stories can either be a quick read or you can really sit and take your time with them to absorb and peel back as many layers as you want.”

“You’ve read her before?”

“I recommended her to Dr. Son a while ago, actually. I read another one of her short story collections and sort of fell in love. I’ve been working through her whole body of work on my own time, but I hadn’t made it to this one yet, so I’m going into it with fresh eyes like you. I’m excited to see what you’ve been getting out of her works.”

“I think her diction is really fascinating.”

“Yes!” You gushed. “You can tell she takes her time with which words she’s using. Oh, I just love it.”

“You’re doing the Master’s in Literary Theory and Critical Analysis next year, right?”

“Yep! Picked my classes a couple weeks ago.”

Your friend flashed you a wide grin. “Thank God. There will be someone else competent.”

“Yeah, I’m doing Lit and Crit, and this one—” you patted Sungchan’s head as he was still shoveling onion rings in his mouth “—is going for his PhD in molecular biology.”

“Woah.” Ten’s eyebrows shot up.

“And what are you going to do with that, Sungchan?” Taeyong asked curiously.

“Fish,” your boyfriend answered absentmindedly through a mouthful of food.

You couldn’t help but laugh with your whole chest at his answer, even as you went to cover his mouth. “Chew and swallow before you talk, Channie. I think you just spat crumbs on poor Kun.”

The older man was flicking a piece of an onion ring off of his arm, giving you a strained, close-lipped smile.

Sungchan spent a considerable amount of time chewing his food, then washed it down with your water before giving a more cognizant answer. “I’m going to study a disease in a fish.”

“Molecular biology with a minor concentration in marine biology,” you corrected yourself and clarified his answer a bit more. “He’s joining one of his professors’ research teams.”

“Congrats, Sungchan,” the former Nu Chi president told him sincerely.

“Yeah, dude, wow,” Ten blinked, laughed, then shook his head. “You know, I don’t even know if I knew what your major actually was this whole time.”

“Seriously?” You snorted. “You two have been teammates for four years, and have lived together for two years.”

“I mean, I knew he was a STEM major,” Ten tried to defend himself. “But past that… yeah, I had no clue. It’s just sort of you know, when you think of Jung Sungchan, you think of hockey. He’s the hockey captain. I mean, does anybody really know Mark’s major?”

“I—”

“Not you, Taeyong, we know he was your Little.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, but found yourself drawing a blank. After all this time of getting closer to the team, you had sort of prided yourself on being friends with and knowing all of your boyfriend’s teammates on some individual level as people. But frustratingly, all you could think up for Mark was that he was Nu Chi president, center on the hockey team, and had been in your Comp I class a few years ago—a Gen Ed credit.

“Well damn,” you said bitterly.

“Exactly.”

After a beat, Taeyong spoke up quietly, “Music Theory. He likes producing music.”

Ten, Sungchan, and you all let out a chorus of ‘ohh’s at this revelation. You looked over at where Mark was spectating the pool game—from a vantage point of leaning tipsily against Johnny’s side when he wasn’t shooting, and against Jaehyun’s side when Johnny was shooting. You watched with amusement as he got passed back and forth, happy to see him being taken care of for once instead of taking care of all his friends.

“I should go swap out my Little’s drink for some water,” Taeyong announced. It was then that Hyuck must have made some comment to Mark, as Mark shoved his friend away with a loud complaint, his tone sounding rather embarrassed. “And my grand-little too…”

Dejun, Hendery, and Chenle were spectating their drunken spat in fits of giggles. Dejun and Hendery both reached for their drinks again, and Kun shook his head.

“I should do the same for my own demons before they get to that point,” Kun stood up with Taeyong.

Ten followed them out, “And I’m not going to third wheel. Bye, you two!”

“Bye, guys,” you gave the three of them farewells. “Congrats again, Ten.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he beamed down at you genuinely.

“Oh, Kun!” You called for him before he could get out of earshot.

He stopped a turned to you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“Thanks for the onion rings, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have one more favor to ask: Can you cut Chenle off too?” You requested. “And I’m not sure how you all are sorting out DDs tonight, but—”

“I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” he promised. “You two have a goodnight.”

“Thanks. Goodnight!”

Looking between Sungchan and the empty onion ring basket, you then checked the time on your phone.

“Alright, are you ready to go, baby?” You asked him quietly.

He nodded with his whole upper body. “Am I going home with you?”

“Yep. I’m taking you back to my place, and our classes all got canceled tomorrow for Spring Break, remember?” You shouldered your tote bag. “So we get to sleep in.”

“That’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled. “Sleeping in?”

“No, waking up with you,” he wrapped both his arms around your waist again. “And giving you a good morning kiss, and cooking breakfast for you, and helping you with your meds and your cuff.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be getting you meds in the morning tomorrow,” you quipped, pecking his forehead. “But I think mornings with my Sungchannie are one of my favorite things, too.”

“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”

“Hard to argue you with you there,” you snickered. “So are you ready to go? The sooner we go home and go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning, you know.”

“You’re so smart, baby. My girl’s the smartest ever…”

Pushing yourself out of his lap, you pulled him out of the booth after you and onto his feet. He immediately looped his arm around your shoulders, and you kept a hand on his chest and an arm around his waist to steady him as you started towards the exit. At the door, the two of you stopped to give the whole bar a final wave and call goodbye to anybody who heard you. You got a loud, raucous chorus of yelled and slurred goodbyes in return before you headed out to your car.

Back at your apartment, you made him change out of his clothes that smelled like the bar and into some of his that he kept here, then got into your own pajamas for the night before flopping into bed.

“Okay, question,” you announced as he laid his head in your lap, throwing an arm across your legs as if you were going anywhere.

“About?” He asked, his eyes fluttering shut and a content smile coming to his face as you started playing with his hair.

“How do you think you made it to the top two in Phantasmagorical Phriday this year? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not trying to be mean, Channie, or like, a Lit major elitist or anything, but Chenle and I have both been studying this stuff for four years now, right? Hendery has at least taken professional writing classes and some other stuff for his Comm degree. I think. But, no offense, you STEM majors aren’t exactly lauded for your excellent prose. First year, okay, we’re all brand new at it, and Dr. Son actually did real workshopping with us on it. But after that, we were essentially just getting coffee together once a month and then sending him a short story.”

He squinted one eye open to peer up at you curiously. “Do you think I bought off Dr. Son or something?”

“Bought off our professor so that you would almost win? Sounds like a waste of your money. Maybe bought off Chenle and Hendery to write shitty stories this year and better your chances? But you knew I was so morally upstanding that I wouldn’t take the bribe.”

“Oh, definitely. You’ve cracked it,” he snickered, closing his eyes again to enjoy your fingers working through his hair.

“I mean… Do you have a secret poetry journal in here somewhere?”

“No. You just kind of are being a little bit of a—” he was cut off by a loud yawn “—Lit major elitist, baby.”

“Mm?” You tilted your head with a confusion, perturbed frown on your face.

“You think that every STEM major just gets their Gen Ed humanities credits and never picks up a book again for the rest of their life.”

“Well…”

“Am I wrong?”

“It’s not like I’m out here balancing equations for fun!” You tried to defend yourself. “I got my science credits and never looked back.”

“I took a few more creative writing and literature classes sometimes,” he shrugged. “Whenever I had a spare slot in my schedule, or needed a couple credits of whatever to keep my scholarship for the semester.”

“Yeah, student athletes, you guys have to be full-time in order to keep your scholarships.”

“Mhm. Sometimes all the classes I needed for my degree that were happening in a semester didn’t uhm, didn’t make the minimum credits, so I needed another class or two.”

“Why lit classes? And writing classes?”

“Baby, it’s literally what you’ve been studying for four years and you’re acting like you can’t understand why anybody would be interested in it,” Sungchan pointed out, pinching your thigh.

You swatted his hand away. “No, I’m just trying to understand you.”

“Did I really act like I hated Dr. Son’s class that much freshman year? I did all four years of Phantasmagorical Phriday.”

“No, you didn’t seem like you hated it or anything. I just thought that you would’ve used the extra slots for easy classes. PE or something.”

“Yeah, Coach was always trying to get me to take his classes.”

“But you just really like writing and lit classes that much?”

“Why is this so surprising to you?”

“Well— I just kind of feel bad that I keep leaving you out of all the crit lit conversations that Ten and I have,” you admitted guiltily, not intending to leave him out of all your fun conversation with his teammate about books in your lit classes, but he never seemed all that interested; nor had he read any of the books, to your knowledge. “Do you want to borrow books or read along so you can talk with us about it?”

“That’s okay, baby,” he told you, reaching up to pat your hands that were already on top of his head. “Honestly, I like listening to you talk about all this stuff more than I ever liked the classes themselves.” After a beat, he absentmindedly added, “I would kind of pick them half-hoping you had signed up for the class, too.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Really?”

“It was more like a little daydream that I had. That I’d walk in on the first day of class and you’d be sitting there and recognize me and smile at me and ask if I wanted to sit with you. Then, you know, we’d swap notes, be study buddies, and I would finally get the courage to ask you out,” Sungchan sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your thigh in an almost nostalgic and bittersweet way.

“Channie…”

“That was really embarrassing to admit. I thought I was going to die without telling anybody that, especially you,” he mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he turned his head to fully bury his face in your lap.

“You are a bit tipsy, baby,” you reminded him gently, stroking the back of his head.

He turned onto his back to fully look up at you, taking a slow blink before adding emphatically, “And I just love you so much.”

You grabbed him by the sides of the face to look him in the eye very seriously, but couldn’t hold it for very long, tender smile coming back to your features almost immediately.

“I love you too,” you affirmed, and he was once again beaming, grabbing your hand to presumably kiss your knuckles, but he missed a bit and kissed the back of your wrist instead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course! Anything for my girl.”

“Your girl wants to know…” You said your words slowly and enunciated to make sure he understood. “On the first day of Dr. Son’s class, do you remember how you felt about me then?”

Specifically, you were thinking about the second game of the season, when you’d learned about Hendery and Chenle’s bet from freshman year. Hendery swore he could tell Sungchan had a crush on you from the first day of Dr. Son’s class, but you had your doubts. Mostly because you yourself couldn’t even remember looking at Sungchan on the first day of class, much less even talking or, God forbid, flirting with him—literally anything that would warrant him apparently outwardly crushing on you.

His face immediately scrunched up. “Mmm…”

“It’s okay baby, I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve had a bit to drink—”

“No, I remember, I remember. I’m just afraid you’re going to think I’m a creep…”

“More of a creep than signing up for classes in my major hoping I was going to be in them?”

“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize, his features immediately turning distraught as he half-sat up in his haste to say sorry.

“Shh, shh, my Sungchannie, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you quieted him, squeezing his hand that he was still holding and stroking his forehead, encouraging him to lay down again. “I was just teasing you, I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I think it’s cute, I promise.”

“You think I’m cute?” He asked with a heavy pout.

“Baby boy, I’m in love with you. Of course I think you’re cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled back into a small smile. “Yay…”

“So? Will you please tell me?”

“M’kay…” He huffed and readjusted again, this time to rest some of his weight on his shoulder as his head was still pillowed in your lap. “I remember everything about that first class, you know? The room number, where we were all sitting, the Phantasma Phour…”

“Really?”

“Third flour, 3104.”

“I thought Gothic Lit was on the second floor?”

“It was on the third floor only for the first week then it got moved to the second floor for the rest of the semester.”

“Huh. Good memory.”

“I remember because the third floor of the Lang building is always super hot, but I didn’t know that because it was our first day. I wore my new hoodie from the team because I was so proud to be on the team, but I didn’t have another shirt on under it because I heard the Science building was always cold from some other Bio majors, so I thought I wasn’t going to have to take it off. So when we were in Dr. Son’s class that first day, I couldn’t take the hoodie off, even though it was like a billion degrees in that room…”

“Oh, oh no, Channie.” You attempted to coo sympathetically through your chuckles.

Sungchan sighed, pulling your hand back to his hair. “Anyway, Dr. Son had us in that Socratic circle, remember?”

“Yep, I remember.” You nodded, obliging to his whims easily and playing with his hair again.

“I was right next to the door, because I just wanted to get in and out of there. Hendery ran in a couple minutes late, and he ended up next to me. You and Chenle sat together at the front, a few seats away from Dr. Son’s desk, right next to the window. I just remember thinking that you were really pretty, with the window kind of giving you this little halo of light.”

“Baby, how is that creepy?” You chuckled. “You thought I was pretty.”

“You don’t remember what happened in the rest of that first class, do you?”

“What? What happened?”

“Dr. Son had us do an icebreaker with a partner…” He trailed off leadingly.

“Channie, I’ve taken so many of Dr. Son’s classes at this point, I can’t even remember who I was paired up with for that one,” you tried to reassure him.

“It was me.”

“Oh.”

“So not only was I a sweaty mess in that hoodie, but I had to be a sweaty mess while talking to this really pretty girl.”

“Channie…” You looked down at him, guilty for not remembering this at all. Though maybe it was for the better if he was apparently such a mess? Maybe that would soothe his distress over “embarrassing” himself in front of you.

“I thought Dr. Son was going to have us ask the normal stuff, name, major, year, you know. But it was Dr. Son, so of course it wasn’t normal.”

“Of course.”

“He made us ask all that, and made us ask each other something we were afraid of, and something we wanted. It wasn’t going to be shared with the class, just with our partner. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, pretty girl that I knew nothing about other than your name, that you were a freshman, and a Lit major. I really wanted to impress you, but I couldn’t come up with anything super deep. Do you know what I said?”

“No…” You confessed, tone already apologetic as you held his gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby, I don’t remember any of this.”

“S’okay…” He yawned again. “I said the truth. I was afraid of not being as good at hockey as I thought I was, and that I wanted to be team captain one day.”

“Those were good answers. It was the truth, not some philosophical lie. And look at you now, baby boy,” you told him strongly, patting his chest before going back to stroking his head.

“Mm… Back then you just kind of had this look on your face that wasn’t really dislike or even boredom or anything but just sort of like… that was exactly what you were expecting me to say. I felt like I’d just put myself into the dumb, self-centered, sports-obsessed jock archetype in your mind and I’d never be able to get out. Because then you answered and I wanted to smack myself for giving such stupid answers and wearing that stupid hoodie.”

“What did I say?”

“You were afraid of what the outcome of your brain MRI was going to be. And you wanted to hurt less.”

Your jaw dropped in mortification. “Oh my god… Sungchan, I’m so sorry I just dumped all that on you literally the first time we met. I…I had a lot going on then, with my migraines. I had just started seeing my neuro like a month before classes started, she ordered the MRI as a just in case thing, but it still made me so freaked. My appointment to go over the results was after my classes that day, I literally couldn’t think about anything else. All I remember about the first day of freshman year is that appointment, getting the clean results. Holy shit, don’t tell me I dropped that on you and left you hanging about whether or not I was fine?”

“When I saw you on Wednesday actually laughing and smiling with Chenle, I was hopeful. I didn’t want to ask you in case it wasn’t good, though, and you were just trying to distract yourself or something. So I caught up to Chenle after class a while later and asked him. After Dr. Son started the Phantasma Phour stuff. He didn’t tell me about your migraines, just said that the results were clean.”

“Ah, Channie… None of that was creepy.” You promised sweetly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“This is the creepy part…” He mumbled, gaze turning downwards. “Jeno saw me when I was talking to Chenle and invited me to the Nu Chi Halloween party that year, Chenle too. And Chenle brought you, and you got a migraine.”

“I didn’t realize you were there too. Did you see me screaming my head off?”

“No. I was trying to keep Jeno distracted.”

“Jeno?” You echoed, confused.

“Jeno said in the locker room…” Another yawn. He rubbed his eye. “He said he invited Chenle because he knew Chenle was going to bring you, and he wanted to sleep with you. But he didn’t think you would’ve come if he had invited you himself.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully at this new revelation. “Huh…”

“I was keeping Jeno distracted with beer pong and stuff, but he finally slipped away, I guess at the same time you got your migraine. When he told me the next day that he was giving up on fucking you because you’d punched him in the face and he ‘knew better than to stick his dick in crazy,’ I thought you decked him for coming onto you and just admired you even more.”

“Not quite,” you laughed, remembering the bloody nose he’d nursed all night in the same room that you were nursing your migraine and Chenle sobered up. “But this story does add a whole new layer to my friendship with Jeno… Does Chenle know about this?”

“I don’t think so. Or Jeno would have gotten his nose broken again, right?”

“Probably.”

“Are you mad?”

“What would I be mad about? You having a crush on me? Our mutual friend wanting to fuck me one time three years ago?” You snorted, cupping his cheeks to get him to roll over and look at you again. “Baby, the only person I could possibly be upset with here is myself for not even giving you a second look in that class three years ago. Because then I could’ve had my Sungchannie this whole time.”

“Noooo…” He whined, shaking his head zealously. “I should’ve actually done something instead of just pining like a loserboy.”

“But you’re my loserboy now.”

His eyes widened. “You think I’m a loser?”

“Of course. My prettiest, cutest, sweetest, loveliest—” you punctuated each adjective with a kiss to his nose “—loserboy that I love so much.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” You smiled down at him. “Now, I think that’s plenty of tipsy confessions for one night. It’s time for you to sleep, my Sungchannie.”

As you started readjusting to lay down next to him on the mattress, he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest like a teddy bear.

“You didn’t want to, right?” His voice was right under your ear.

“What?”

“Sleep with Jeno?”

You lowered your voice conspiratorially, “I’m going to tell you a secret: I couldn’t tell any of the Nu Chi guys apart for the longest time. Didn’t even know Jeno’s name until I broke his nose. To me, they were all just gross frat guys who probably didn’t know how to wash their dicks.”

“Should’ve kept it that way,” he grumbled, holding you even tighter.

“Oh? You want me to unlearn all of our friends and acquaintances names?” You teased, wrapping one of your arms around him too.

“Can you?” He asked hopefully.

“Not quite how it works, I’m afraid,” you clicked your tongue. At his tipsy whines starting back up again, you hushed him once more, “Shh, it’s okay. I might know all their names, but none of them get to be baby boy.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He agreed, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.

“You need anything else from your girl? Or will you finally let her sleep?”

“Kiss?”

“Of course.”

Tilting your head up, you pressed your lips to Sungchan’s. He hummed contentedly against your mouth, unhurried in his motions as he met your every move. You sleepily kissed him, entirely unaware of time, but finally pulling back when your lids were getting too heavy to properly open back up. Blindly giving one more kiss to the corner of his mouth—it felt more like the side of his bottom lip, honestly—you settled your head back on his chest.

“There you go, Channie.” You yawned, pushing your face further into him. “Goodnight… I love you.”

“Goodnight, baby,” he was mumbling too, presumably also on the brink of falling asleep. “Love… you…”

vi. whilst i make space for all the parts of me that i do not want, i let them be, as minds twist through the fractured expanse of our being

“Okay, thank you,” you forced a casual nod to your doctor as she entered in a few more things on her computer.

“The ladies up front will schedule everything when you check out,” she offered you a kind smile. “Do you have any more questions for me today, Y/N?”

“No, no, just uh… need to get everything scheduled, you know.”

“Alright, well it was good to see you as always,” she stood up, leading you towards the door of the exam room. “And I’ll see you again soon. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

You went through the motions of checking out and scheduling, adding the next appointments to your phone calendar with the receptionist at the front desk, then shuffled out to the parking lot. Your mind was still reeling as you got into the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He turned in his seat to ask you. It was just one of your normal check-ups with your neurologist today, and with the hockey season over, Sungchan had the time to take you to and from the appointment, promising to take you out for dinner after. You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

Your gaze was locked on the dashboard in front of you. Your jaw clenched as you tried to battle back the tears that threatened to well up and just answer him.

“They’re getting worse again. Increase in- in frequency and severity,” you finally choked out. “My neuro wants to get a blood panel and brain MRI done again. She says we probably just need to adjust my meds again but—”

“A brain MRI?” Sungchan echoed in disbelief.

“Make sure there’s nothing in there that’s not supposed to be in there. It’s always clean, but every single time, the what if… it’s scary,” you admitted, your voice getting smaller as the tears finally came, spilling over onto your cheeks and down into your lap.

“Oh… oh baby,” his voice softened as he reached over to take your hand.

“And even if everything, all of that fucking shit is clean. It just means that my stupid fucking meds have stopped working and my stupid fucking body isn’t working like it’s supposed to and I have to do it all over again. Trying out more medications that’ll do God fucking knows what to me until we find the new perfect concoction that keeps me a semi-functioning person. God dammit!” You spat out, slamming your other hand down in a fist against the dash. “Ow, fuck, that hurt. God, fucking stupid…”

Sungchan grabbed both your hands with one of his, keeping them in your lap as he wiped at your tears with his free hand. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “That you got me and that I’m—”

“Stop it,” he cut you off sternly, with the harshest tone he’d ever taken with you. “Don’t you dare start apologizing for this. I wouldn’t let anybody else talk about you like that around me, and you’re not going to either.”

“God, yeah, okay,” you nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, Channie.”

“When is it? The MRI?”

“I-I have it in my calendar somewhere.”

“I’ll go with you,” he promised, cradling your chin in his palm to get you to look at him. “Whenever it is, I’ll go with you. And when you go get the results, okay? Car, waiting room, exam room, wherever you want me, alright? But you won’t be alone.”

You bit your bottom lip, squeezing his hand tight with both of yours. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

He leaned across the center console to press a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for my girl.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[cc-cobalt-1043]

99's boys:

It had now been several weeks since 99 had taken the six young cadets under his wing and it hadn't taken him long to grow attached to them.

In his time as their guardian he had quickly grown to understand their very different personalities.

The twins 01 and 02 now named Spectre and Hunter were both fiercly loyal to their squad and were both very protective of their younger siblings, 99 knew both were destined to be the commanding officers of the squad so this made sense. The two were also attached at the hip, it was rare to see one without the other.

03 nicknamed Wrecker for his immense strength was the most boisterous of the batch, his energy unmatched by any of the other kids, his own squad could barely keep up with him. While academically he wasn't the smartest of the squad, socially he was miles ahead of the others, often acting as a mouthpiece for them on multiple occasions.

04, named Crosshair for his exceptional shooting skills was the most difficult to read. He seemed to constantly bottle up his emotions and rarely ever let them out, and he additionally had a tendency to snap at others. However there was no denying his love for his brothers, Crosshair always stood by his squad, always defending them from bullies.

05, named Cobalt for his unique blue eyes was perhaps the most levelheaded of the batch, often serving as the peacekeeper when fights (mostly between Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair) broke out. However he could also be fairly skittish when interacting with others outside of his comfort zone though this varied greatly on who he was talking too.

07 named Tech for his love of technology and his immense smarts was easily the most skittish of the squad. As the youngest and therefore the weakest of the group he was already a target for bullies, but his smarts only ostricised him further. However he was a brave little clone always standing up for himself and his brothers.

................

"99 99!"

99 was roused from his sleep by Wrecker's loud voice, immediately noticing the worry in his brother's tone he turned around.

"Wrecker, Vodi'ka what is it?" 99 asked immediately.

"It's Cobalt, I think he's sick again." Wrecker said.

99 nodded and immediately got up, knowing just how bad the force tests affected the young clone.

The two quickly rushed too the barracks, Wrecker pulling 99 along slightly as they went.

They entered the barracks to find the others crowded around the bunk Cobalt occupied, the group quickly making room for the older clone.

Cobalt was curled up in a ball on his bunk looking as pale as death, both hands clutching his stomach and his whole face was glistening with sweat.

99 felt his heart ache as the young clone looked up at him looking ready to cry.

"Bluir...I don't feel good." Cobalt whined, curling up on himself slightly more.

99 felt his younger brother's forehead wincing at how hot it was...he was burning up fast.

"What's wrong Vodi'ka?" 99 asked wincing slightly at how stupid the question sounded.

"It hurts." Cobalt whimpered a few tears now leaking out his eyes.

"What hurts vod?" 99 asked as he stroked his brother's damp hair trying to comfort him as little as he could.

"My head and tummy." Cobalt whined pitifully fighting off waves of oncoming nausea.

99 nodded and turned to Crosshair and Tech.

''Crosshair get the migraine meds from my cabinet and a glass of water, Tech fill up a compressor with cold water." 99 instructed.

The two nodded dutifully and ran off to carry out their task.

"Everything's gonna be okay Cobalt." 99 said.

Cobalt nodded and was about to reply when suddenly he grew even paler and darted out of 99's grip and into the refresher where he began throwing up harshly into the toilet.

Without a moment's hesitation Spectre was kneeling beside Cobalt gently rubbing circles on the younger clones' back as he retched.

"That's it Cobalt, just get it all out." Sprecte said drawing circles on his younger brother's back with his finger.

Leaving Cobalt in Spectre's care for the time being 99, Hunter and Wrecker straightened out Cobalt's bed and soon after they finished Crosshair and Tech returned with the items 99 had requested.

By this time Cobalt has finished retching and was slumped against Spectre who cradled the young clone in his arms as though he was still an infant.

"Cmon, let's get you back in bed." Spretce said leading his sick younger brother back to his bunk and helping him lie down, Hunter putting a bucket next to Cobalt's bed in case he was sick again.

99 held out the medicine for Cobalt who grimaced and stubbornly turned his head away.

"Come on Cobalt, you need to take this if you want to get better." 99 said.

Cobalt just shook his head.

"It tastes horrible." Cobalt grumbled.

"Cmon Cobby please, for me." Wrecker said giving his little brother his best puppy eyes.

Cobalt looked at his closest brother and glared, but he couldn't say no to those eyes.

"Fine." Cobalt muttered before letting 99 give him the medicine, quickly washing the taste down with the water.

Wrecker just smiled knowing his little brother's bad mood was caused by the sickness.

Getting an idea he went over to his bunk where his tooka plush Lula rested.

Picking her up and going back over to Cobalt's bunk he placed her in his little brother's arms.

"You're giving me Lula?" Cobalt asked incredulously looking at Wrecker.

"Yeah, she's not feeling too well either, so I thought you guys could help each other get better." Wrecker said.

Cobalt beamed up at Wrecker squeezing the plush slightly in his arms.

"Thanks Wrecks." Cobalt mumured yawning and closing his eyes.

99 placed the compress on Cobalt's head trying to help him cool down.

"Just rest Vodi'ka, you'll be feeling better before you know it." 99 said.

The only awnser 99 got was Cobalt's soft snores, confirming the younger clone was now fast asleep.

One by one the others returned to their own bunks but not before checking that Cobalt was truly okay.

99 watched the others drift off one by one and smiled.

Yes, 99 couldn't have asked for a better group of brothers.

[michelleleewise]

I noticed your asks are open! I’m battling a nasty headache today and could use some comfort from our dearest prince. I’m super dizzy and almost fell over when I stood up earlier 🤦🏻‍♀️ I get anxious with these too because they feel like they’ll never let up.

Sorry this took so long.....work was a nightmare but........here we go!! I really hope your feeling better!! I myself get occasional migraines, so I understand! Feel better soon!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Make it Stop...

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: mentions of headache, dizziness, nausea, crying, loki takes care of you, fluff, comfort

Summary: you wake up with one of your bad headaches. But Loki will do anything to help you feel better.

You woke up to a searing pain behind your eyes. You slowly opened them, instantly regretting it as the sun streamed in the window. You tried to take a deep breath, but as you exhaled you felt the throbbing in your head. You felt Loki stirring next to you as you rubbed your temples. "What's the matter love?" You heard him ask as you groaned "not so loud please." You whispered.

You cracked your eyes open as he sat up looking at you "Are you ok?" He whispered touching your forehead. "It's one of my headaches, I just need to find my pain killers." You whispered starting to get up, feeling the blood rush to your head you stumbled back against the bed as Loki wrapped his arms around you. "Sit down love, I'll get them." He whispered lowering you back to the bed.

He came back a few minutes later with your medicine and a glass of water, helping you to sit up. You sat back againt the headboard as you took them. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing when a wave of nausea hit you, making you lean over. "Are you going to be sick love?" Loki whispered, pushing your hair back. "No, I don't think so." You whispered back.

Every breath you took made the throbbing in your head worse. You felt a tear run down your cheek as Loki wiped it away "make it stop, please. It hurts so bad." You sobbed, making your head hurt worse. "Tell me what to do love, how can I help you?" He whispered cupping your cheek. "I don't know, I just." You whispered closing your eyes. "Let me try something love." He whispered as you slowly nodded.

You felt his hand on your forehead, as his hand slowly got colder. You sighed as it began to slowly soothe your head. "Any better?" He whispered "a little." You sighed, feeling his other hand go to the back of your head, rubbing circles at your nape. You felt the throbbing ease as he continued massaging your head. "That feels so good." You sighed, cracking your eyes open, looking into Loki's red ones. You reached up cupping his cheek as he smiled. "Is it feeling better?" He asked leaning into your touch. You nodded "but, could you maybe do it a bit longer?" You whispered. "Anything for you love." He smiled.

You closed your eyes again, leaning your head forward into Loki's hand. You opened your eyes again and you were laying down, Loki's hand rubbing your scalp. "Hello Love, you fell asleep so I laid you down, how are you feeling?" He asked brushing your hair back. "So much better Loki, thank you so much." You said wrapping your arms around him. "It was my pleasure darling. Are you up for a warm bath?" He asked kissing your head. "That sounds wonderful, as long as you join me." You whispered into his neck.

You heard him laugh as he set his book on the nightstand, turning to face you as he cupped your cheek "anything for you my love." He whispered as he gently pressed his lips to yours, slowly caressing the nape of your neck as he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours. "I absolutely love you Loki." You sighed closing your eyes. "Not as much as I love you." He whispered back.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10 @midnights-ramblings

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Masterlist :)

Hi, friends! I decided to make a master list to organize of all of my fics thus far. They are all Bucky Barnes x Reader and have been organized alphabetically! I write fluff, angst, and just a little smut 💕

If you like what you read, give me a reblog to help others find it :)

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Send em my way!

Find my Ko-Fi here 💕

-Hope

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

Alternative Medicine | smut : Your anxiety seemed to plague you no matter what you did, until you try a different way of managing it…with Bucky’s help.

The Ballad of Love and Hate (Inspired by The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers) | angst and fluff: Bucky refuses to open up to you even after you've moved in together. You need some time away to think while Bucky spirals due to your absence.

Be My Sidekick (Inspired by Sidekick by walk the Moon) | Fluff and slight smut: You and Bucky are best friends, but you've got a bad crush on him, and things come to a head one night after a movie.

Bedside Manner | flufffffy fluff: A migraine knocks you on your ass, but Bucky is right there to take care of you.

Begin Again | angst with a fluffy end: Bucky broke up with you six months for an unspecified reason, leaving you absolutely heartbroken. When he shows up on your doorstep, your feelings come rushing back.

Body Art | smut: Bucky comes back into town after being on the run and wants you to meet him at a motel. When he opens the door, you’re greeted by a pierced, tattooed version of Bucky that stirs something in you.

Body Talk | fluff: an especially rough day chips away at your confidence and leaves you feeling terrible about your body, but Bucky knows how to make you feel better.

Chain Round My Neck | so much fluff: Bucky buys you a sweet gift that he fears may be too old fashioned, but you melt at the sight of it.

Codeword | smut: Bucky is just looking too good at a party one night, and you can’t wait until you get home to get your hands all over him.

Darling, You Will Bury Me Before I Bury You (Inspired by Ya'aburnee by Halsey) | fluff and angst: You know Bucky is a super soldier, but you worry about how long he'll be around. He is 106, after all.

Defiant | angst, smut, & fluff: Bucky hates when you defy his orders, especially when it means putting your life in danger. After a perilous mission, he teaches you a lesson about disobeying him.

Do You Want to Die Together? (Inspired by Do You Want to Die Together? by Stars) | Angst : Bucky’s lost a lot of people in his life, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts thinking about losing you.

Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts | mostly fluff with a sprinkling of angst: Bucky gets a little inebriated at a party and his loose lips let his secret slip.

End of Story | angst: An injury forces you to examine Bucky’s mortality head on and talk about things you never wanted to admit.

Excuses | angsty with a lil fluff: An unexpected relapse of Bucky’s Winter Soldier mindset makes him do something he doesn’t remember- the worst thing he’s ever done.

Good to Be Home | fluffff: When Bucky finally gets home from a mission, you notice he's acting strange. He's sneaking around your apartment late at night while you're asleep, and he's clearly something he's hiding from you.

Haunted (Inspired by Haunted by Taylor Swift) | ANGSTY with a little fluff: You and Bucky have finally admitted your feelings for each other, but when he hurts you by accident, he runs. You're left to pick up the pieces in his absence.

Help me | ANGST and then fluff: Bucky wakes from a night terror and divulges the details of a particular horrifying memory- one he’s never shared with anyone.

I Need You | fluff, angst, hints of smut: An especially bad night terror puts Bucky in a weird place, and the only thing that can make him feel better is your touch.

The Invitation | fluff and a sprinkling of angst: Your mom wants you to come home for thanksgiving, and she wants you to bring Bucky…but you’re not so sure it’s a good idea.

I'm Not Even Tired | fluffffff: You get home late from work and find that Bucky has attempted to wait up for you.

It Will Come Back (Inspired by It Will Come Back by Hozier) | fluff and angst: Bucky is your very best friend but he’s very hot and cold toward you, so you confront him.

Just in Case | angst and a lil fluff: On the run after the events of Civil War, Bucky hasn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. You offer to sit with him, and he makes an off putting request.

Keep Warm | fluff AF: Staying with Bucky in a safe house in the middle of nowhere sounds great, too bad it’s the coldest night of the year and you forgot your pajamas.

Like Real People Do (inspired by Like Real People Do by Hozier) | fluff: An under cover assignment has you and Bucky pretending to be a couple at a swanky event. It’s almost too much for you to try and focus on your mission while Bucky is acting like your husband.

Love Language | angst and fluff: you notice that Bucky has started pulling away from your usual physical affection, and it makes you rethink the way you show your love.

Mine | fluff and a little bit of smut: Bucky gets home from a long mission and wants to mark you up so that everyone knows you belong to him.

Moving In | flufffff: You and Bucky are in the process of moving in together when you have to leave for a weekend away. He texts you updates on the move and makes you miss him.

Neighborly | fluffiness: living in the apartment down the hall from Bucky Barnes is definitely not what you expected-and you definitely didn’t expect him to show up bleeding at your door.

Never Alone | fluff and angst: Bucky is afraid of who he is deep down, and thinks leaving is the best option for the both of you.

Nothing Fucks With My Baby (inspired by NFWMB by Hozier) | angst and fluff: Bucky shows up late to a Shield party and finds out that a new agent made you uncomfortable. He takes care of it. **Warning: mention of SA**

Number One Fan | fluff: Everyone knows Bucky has feelings for you, but he just won’t admit it, so Sam helps you concoct an evil plan to get to the truth.

The Oath | lil angst, lil fluff: Being in a relationship is not something Bucky ever expected, and he definitely never thought he’d ever hear the words “I love you”.

Off Limits | fluff: Bucky meets you at Clint’s backyard barbecue and can’t help but fall for you. Nothing will stop him from asking you to dinner-except maybe your last name.

Old Habits | angst & fluff: Bucky’s old Winter Soldier training starts rearing its head, causing him to become more protective of you than ever before.

Open Door | angst and fluff: Bucky finally agrees to stay the night at your place after months of dating. He’s not honest about what makes him comfortable, so he can’t sleep- but you’ll do anything to make him feel safe.

Our Spot | fluff, so much fluff: After the events of Civil War, Bucky finds refuge in Wakanda. Shuri works to heal his mind while, with your help, he works to heal his heart.

Panic | fluff and some angst: You have a panic attack when you wake up and can’t find Bucky, but he helps you get through it.

The Pit | Fluff and a lil Angst: You and Bucky go to a metal show together and join in on the mosh pit chaos. When the two of you get separated, Bucky makes it his mission to find you.

Play Pretend | Fluff: After being relentlessly pursued by a creepy guy at a bar, you ask a handsome stranger to be your fake boyfriend- turns out, he’s not completely a stranger.

The Quiet (inspired by Til I Fall Asleep by Jayme Dee) | so angsty: Bucky is gone all the time on mission after mission, fulfilling his duties as an Avenger- but is he doing too much?

Read Receipts | fluffy & a lil angst: You mistakenly send a rather risqué text to Bucky…

Sad Girl Music | Fluff: Some not so sound relationship advice from Sam has Bucky reading way too much into your music choices.

Scarred | fluff: You and Bucky finally start to hook up after tons of flirting, but he's self conscious about his scars from years of doing Hydra's dirty work.

Scratching Post | smut-adjacent: Bucky is mesmerized by your long nails, and can’t contain his dirty thoughts.

Self-Inflicted | angst & fluff: A strange sound wakes you up in the middle of the night, and you discover a sleeping Bucky covered blood.

She Never Asked Me Once About the Wrong I Did (Inspired by Work Song by Hozier) | fluff & angst: Bucky comes home from a mission, racked with guilt and covered in blood that isn't his. He needs comfort and safety and that only you can provide.

Shiver (Sequel to Play Pretend) | smut: The connection between you and your fake boyfriend Bucky is undeniable, so you bring him back to your apartment.

Sick Day | fluffffff: The flu hits you like a ton of bricks and you have to cancel date night with Bucky. All he wants to do is take care of you, but you’re reluctant to let him.

Snowed In | smut: an unexpected storm turns your group vacation into a one on one for you and Bucky. Stranded in a secluded cabin, the two of you become closer than ever.

Something Came Up | fluff and implied smut: A mandatory yoga class at the avengers compound puts you and Bucky very up close and personal.

Souvenirs & Keepsakes | fluff and a hint of angst: While looking for an old sweatshirt, you stumble across some strange souvenirs of Bucky’s…

Star Crossed | Fluff for days: Bucky comes home to find you sobbing over a sad movie on the couch, so of course takes care of you and makes you feel better

Stargazing | fluff & a lil smut: Bucky often needs a release after a stressful mission, and he always finds himself coming to you- but it’s complicated.

Stay With Me | fluffiness and angst: this is a series and the first fanfic I ever wrote! Bucky’s mission runs long and messes with his head, and you’re the only one who can help him out of it. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Sunday Morning | fluffffff: A typical Sunday morning for you and Bucky involves books, tea, and 40’s music.

Take a Break | flufffffffy fluff: You've been overworking yourself and stressing about your job. Bucky hates how it's affecting you and wants to take care of you.

Take Care | fluff: one rogue move of your knife during dinner prep leaves you bloody. You’re really not in the mood to get stitches but Bucky is not tolerating any protest from you.

That Time | fluff: Bucky comes home and finds you completely incapacitated by your period, so he dedicates the rest of the night to looking after you.

Unanswered Letters | angst and fluff: Bucky is your best friend in the Avengers compound...until he leaves with no warning. His return is confusing and complicated for the both of you.

Wake Up | fluff and a sprinkling of angst: Accidentally waking a sleeping Bucky proves to be a big mistake when he’s immediately thrown into a panic attack upon opening his eyes.

What’s in a Name? | so much fluff: an accidental slip of the tongue makes you call Bucky a pet name, something he’s never experienced.

The Words | fluff and angst: While out with you at the store, Bucky encounters something from his past that messes with his head.

Weak Link | angst & fluff: Bucky is your favorite person to work with on missions, and you’re partnered together every time- until someone keeps changing things up last minute, making you doubt your friendship with him.

Yours (Inspired by Yours by Ella Henderson) | angst and fluff: Bucky loves being your boyfriend, but he knows he's got a lot of baggage. He worries that it's too much for you, so you talk him through it.

You're Here Now | angst and fluff: Bucky always begs you to lock the front door, but you're forgetful. Too bad you forgot to lock it the day Hydra came after you to get back at Bucky...

Thanks for reading! 💕

[milucas]

don't lie (pt. 2)

read pt 1 here

(this was written way back before sam's confession audio)

characters: sam collins, darlin' (listener)

pairings: sam collins/darlin'

tw/cw: hurt/comfort, implied s*icide attempt/s*icidal ideation, general self doubt and self destruction

It was barely 10pm when Darlin' fell asleep, and Sam decided to make them a decent meal for when they woke up. That is, he did, until he opened their fridge and saw the usual condiments and no real ingredients.

Sam sighed and checked on the wolf again. Still passed out. He decided they'd be okay if he went on a short trip to the store.

He ran his fingers through their hair gently. "I'll be right back, my darlin'."

***

Darlin' woke up with an awful headache. They groaned as they sat up, almost falling off the couch. Everything was too bright and loud and their head was pounding and their stomach was grumbling and god they just wanted to pass out again-

But then there was Sam, turning off the lights, holding them close, and whispering sweetly in their ear. He was being so gentle, treating them the same care and attention that someone would use with an injured puppy.

"You have a migraine, darlin'. Can I help?" He asked asked quietly, in barely a whisper, but darlin' could still hear a hint of his sweet southern drawl.

"Yes. Please." Darlin' tried to nod, but it hurt too much.

Sam held their face in his hands, placing his thumbs delicately on their temples. "Alright darlin', take a deep breath for me."

A rush of energy filled their head and then was gone, taking all the dizziness and pain with it. They finally relaxed into his arms, sighing heavily and leaning into him chest.

"Are you still tired? I can leave you alone if you want to go back to sleep," Sam ran his hands through their hair.

They shook their head, "No, no. It's fine," they tried to pull away and stand up, to no avail. "I'll be fine. I just need a minute."

"Darlin', please," Sam took their hand, "Let me take care of you."

They sighed, avoiding eye contact. "Fine."

"Are you hungry at all? I made you somethin' to eat, if you're up to it."

"Can we just stay here?"

"Of course. Do you need anything from me?"

"Just keep holding me."

"I can do that, darlin'." He held them close, feeling his breath hitch when they clung to his shirt. Were they... were they shivering? "Darlin', you're freezing,"

"It's not that bad."

"Here, just-" Sam shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around their shoulders. "Take this."

"Won't you get cold?"

"I can handle it."

Darlin' scoffed. "Hypocrite."

Sam laughed. They loved his laugh. It was sweet as sugar and smooth as honey, like music to their ears. They wanted to hear that laugh forever. And paired with his smile? That would be a recipe for Darlin's destruction.

"You're too good to me," They sighed dreamily, "you give me too much, Sammy."

"I would give you the world if I could."

They didn't know how to respond. Sam must've felt them tense, the way he pulled them onto his lap and ran his hands through their hair, holding them a little tighter.

"Are you hungry yet, darlin'?"

They nodded, "I'm not sure I can stand just yet,"

"That's alright, I'll bring it here." He kissed the top of their head before retrieving their dinner from the kitchen. "I made your favorite,"

He smiled at Darlin' while he handed them the plate, making heat rise to their cheeks and butterflies take flight in their stomach.

Both of them ate their dinner in comfortable silence, simply content in each other's presence.

Talking wasn't something that Darlin' enjoyed, so their time together was usually more like this. Quiet, comfortable, content. Darlin' appreciated Sam's patience with them, and they were still trying to wrap their head around the fact that he cared enough to wait.

They hadn't expected him to stick around for so long. But he stayed. He stayed by their side through beatings and bruises and blisters and breakdowns. He stayed because he cared. The very idea of that baffled them.

Sam noticed the wolf's eyes beginning to droop. "You gettin' tired, darlin'?"

They nodded sleepily.

"Here, just-" he put their dishes aside- "let me carry you to bed."

"Jesus, Sam, my legs aren't fucking broken-"

He cut them off, "Remember what I said about lettin' me take care of you?" He brought his hand up to their cheek and cupped their face gently. "You're exhausted, and you might pass out if you try to stand right now."

They sighed while leaning into his hand. "Fine. Do what you want."

"Thank you, darlin'. Now c'mere." He pulled them close again and scooped them up into his arms, carrying them bridal style to their bed. "You're real cute when you're sleepy. Nice break from all the, uh... you know. Self-destructive violence."

"Thin ice, Collins."

He laughed quietly, "You look adorable all curled up in my arms. Even when you're threatening me."

They were grateful for the darkness in the apartment, so he wouldn't be able to see the blush that danced across their face.

He placed them gently on their bed, pulling the blanket up close to their chin. He pulled up a chair next to them. He desperately wanted to climb into bed and hold them, he wanted to cuddle them and squeeze them and kiss them and give them all the love they deserved. But he held back.

"Sammy?" Sam's heart swelled at the nickname.

"Yes, darlin'?"

"Can you stay with me?"

"Of course, darlin'. I'm stayin' right here until you wake up."

"No, I meant- um," they shifted uncomfortably, "I meant, could you hold me? Please?"

Sam was startled by that question. "Are you sure? I know you're not really one for, uh... physical affection,"

"If you don't want to it's fine,"

"No, no. I want to, I just..." He laughed quietly, "I thought maybe you'd have had enough of me by now. Last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable, darlin'. I just wanna make sure-"

"I'm sure." They looked up at him with their beautiful eyes. Sam loved their eyes. He loved that they trusted him enough to let him see them.

"Okay, darlin'. I'd be happy to hold you." He climbed into bed beside them, putting his arm over them hesitantly.

It wasn't until his wolf turned around and nuzzled into his chest that he really held them.

"Thank you, Sammy," They sighed sleepily, "for everything."

Sam kissed their forehead as they drifted off to sleep. "Darlin', I would do anything for you."

[purityoflust]

The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

[that-welder-dude]

Bakugou Katsuki x Sad!Male!Reader (Fluff)

"Enjoy the Little Things"

Warnings: Cursing because Bakugou

Info

Name: L/n Y/n

Age: 15

Height: 5'3

Hair Color: (h/c)

Hair Length: (h/l)

Eye Color: (e/c)

Skin Tone: (s/t)

Quirk: Levitation

Your quirk allows you to move things around by focusing your attention on it, including yourself.

Drawbacks: You get migraines from using your quirk too long, also causing bleeding from your ears and nose. This worries your boyfriend quite a bit.

You are a shy person when you first meet someone, but once you warm up to someone, you like to talk and open up a bit more.

*****

-Third Person POV-

Bakugou's eyes flutter open, glaring at the sunlight peaking through the curtains in his dorm room. It's a Saturday, meaning he doesn't have to be up for school, but that also means he wants to sleep in a little bit more. He movs to close the small gap in the curtains but feels a weight on his chest, keeping him from sitting up. He glances down and sees his beautiful boyfriend, Y/N, snuggling his face into his chest.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth at the sight of him, (h/l) (h/c) disheveled and covering his eyes a bit, mouth open slightly with soft snore leaving it. Y/N's (pale/pink), (soft/rough) lips moved slightly as he breathed, occasionally letting out a quiet "hmm".

Bakugou sighs quietly and very gently lifts his boyfriend off of him, moving off the bed to close the curtains. Almost immediately after his body leaves the bed, Y/N's (soft/hoarse) morning voice could be heard in the form of a whine, wanting the warmth that was just so rudely taken from him. Bakugou chuckles quietly to himself and seals the curtains shut, then climbs back into bed, small arms immediately wrapping around his midsection and pulling him closer.

A (e/c) eye opens very slowly and looks up at the blond male who disturbed his sleep moments ago. "What were you doing?" Y/N whispers, his morning voice peaking through the soft sound.

"I was closing the curtains all the way so we didn't have to deal with the sun," Bakugou replies quietly, still trying hard not to disturb the boy any further than he already had.

Y/N just hums softly before letting out a soft yawn and moves to sit up in the bed to stretch, before being pulled back into his larger boyfriend's chest with a soft yelp of surprise. Bakugou laughs softly as he wraps his arms around the smaller's waist and kisses his nose very softly.

"How did you sleep?" he asks very quietly, rubbing their noses together gently, knowing how much Y/N loves it. The smaller male smiles and does the same, giggling a bit. "I slept very well, but I always do when I'm with you," he smiles even brighter.

Bakugou pulls back a bit to admire the features of his boyfriend's face, memorizing them again and again. Y/N just looks back, unconsciously glancing down at Bakugou's lips, then gives them a small peck. Bakugou smiles in surprise and pulls him in for a slightly longer but just as sweet kiss.

He gently strokes the (soft/rough) (s/t) exposed patch of skin on Y/N's shoulder where the shirt is sliding off because of how big it is on him. He sits up all the way and pulls Y/N's head into his lap, then starts to immediately starts playing with the smaller male's (h/c) locks.

Y/N is slightly confused by his boyfriend's actions slightly, usually he isn't this affectionate, even when they are alone. He decides to voice his thoughts and only earns a quiet hum from Bakugou.

After a moment of silence, Bakugou speaks again. "I'm just enjoying the little things."

~Timeskip~

-Bakugou's POV-

Once we officially get up for the day, everyone else in the dorms is already up. I gently take Y/N's hand in mine as we make our way to the elevator to head down to the kitchen to eat breakfast. His feet shuffle slowly on the floor as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. Once we're in the elevator, I press the button for the bottom floor and release Y/N's hand. This makes him frown a bit but he doesn't say anything, as he knows that I don't want the others to know that we are together yet. I know he wants to tell everyone but I'm not ready, I haven't even told anyone that I'm gay. The only people who know are Aizawa-sensei and my and Y/N's parents. Aizawa only knows because he caught us sleeping in Y/N's room a couple of weeks ago, earning us both detention for not telling him because he had checked rooms on one of his night patrols of the hallways. When he didn't find me, he was frantic and started flinging doors open all over, scaring some students. When he found me and Y/N snuggling, I begged him not to tell anyone and he agreed, only stating that I needed to be more responsible.

I frowned at the memory, hating how he had found out.

Y/N seems to notice my slight anger, moving to touch my arm to comfort me, only for me to jerk out of his reach as the elevator opens. I swiftly step out and walk towards the kitchen, leaving Y/N in the elevator.

Once I get my breakfast and sit at the table, I look up, only to notice that my small boyfriend was nowhere in sight. I frown but try no to let it bother me, eating my food quietly.

After about 20 minutes, the elevator dings and Y/N steps out dressed in his school training uniform. I watch him as he walks by and his (e/c) orbs catch mine for a moment before darkening and looking away again. He strides right past the kitchen and out the door of the dorms, walking in the direction of the school. I watch him go, confused, then see Midoriya, also dressed in his training uniform as well, rush past and catch up to Y/N. I just barely have time to see Y/N turn to smile at the broccoli boy before the door closes.

I feel anger boil up in me. What is that damn Deku doing with my Y/N? Y/N only ever sparred with me, unless we were at school and got partnered up with other people. I angrily stand up and throw away my trash rather aggressively, gaining a few stares from the others in the common room.

I spend the rest of the day in my room, half-expecting Y/N to walk in. The longer he doesn't, though, the angrier I get. I must've fell asleep at some point because I wake up the next day and once again, the sun is peaking through the curtain. I groan and throw the covers off and get up. Y/N didn't come to my room last night, meaning he was still angry. All because I wouldn't let him touch me?? That doesn't make sense, he knows I don't want people knowing yet. Sure, It's been a few months, but that doesn't mean I don't want to spend time with him in private. He just doesn't understand. I shake my head and remove him from my mind. If he is going to hold onto this grudge, then I will too.

~Timeskip~

It's been a whole week since Y/N has spoken to me, and I am getting very impatient. We all arrive in the classroom on that next Monday and Y/N completely ignores me. He strides to his desk next to Deku and immediately starts talking to him about training with him again. I feel my anger worsen and I can't help but lash out.

"Oi, dumbasses! Shut the fuck up, you're too loud!" I yell. I turn around, ignoring the eyes burning into my back, knowing who they belong to. I hear Deku go back to talking to him and just as I'm about to yell again, Aizawa-sensei tells us homeroom is over and that we need to change into our training uniform to train.

Immediately after he finishes speaking, I feel a presence shove past me as I try to stand, only to get knocked back into my seat. I look at Y/N in shock, the anger and hurt still very apparent in his eyes as he glares back at me. He grabs his uniform and leaves before anyone else has a chance to catch up.

Once everyone is outside, Aizawa partners us up to start sparring, saying we can use our quirks as long as we don't hurt each other too much.

Of course, my luck is this bad. I get Y/N.

Once we dispersed enough to begin, Y/N immediately lunges at me and knocks me to the ground. Even with my reflexes, he is able to knock me down. Explosions blast out of my palms and they throw him backwards, but he catches himself with his quirk, floating off the ground a few inches. Then I hear him do something I've never heard him do before.

He growls.

It's low, almost imperceptible, but I catch it and it sends a shiver down my spine. He doesn't get this angry, even when Kaminari picks on him for his size. That's when I know this is going to be an all out fight.

He lunges at me again, this time slower because of the use of his quirk so I have time to react and blast him back again. I'm hesitant, though, because I don't want to hurt him, even though he seems very intent on hurting me.

"Don't hold back, because I'm not," he yells at me. I shift uncomfortably under his very angry gaze, wishing I could see the calm, playful glare that usually accompanies our sparring matches.

He lunges at me again and again, occasionally activating his quirk to dodge my blasts. I land a few hits on him as he does on me. I can tell he's getting tired based on how his attacks are slowing, but they are just as strong and painful if I'm not careful.

That's when I see the blood starting to come out of his left ear. A drawback of his quirk, he's been using it too much on me. In my moment of hesitation, he lunges again, this time hitting me square in my jaw so hard I start to see black spots. As I regain my senses, I see him in front of me, his other ear bleeding now as well. No one else seems to have noticed yet, so I give him a half apologetic, half concerned look.

I see him also blinking rapidly, meaning the beginning of a migraine has started to set in. I bit my lip hard, fighting myself to keep from running to him and holding him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear until his head stops hurting.

I can't do that. We are still sparring, I'll hold him later and hopefully he'll have forgiven me by then.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't see him move towards me quickly and I feel the impact of his foot in my gut, but instead of falling onto the ground behind me, I feel myself get lifted off the ground and higher into the air. He's using his quirk on me, and he's going to drop me. He's really trying to hurt me, like I hurt him.

Then I'm falling, and I use my explosions to keep myself from landing too hard on the ground. I look over at him, only to see him on the ground, passed out from the pain and the blood loss from his ears and his now heavily-bleeding nose. My mind goes blank as I rush towards him and pull him into my arms, being as gentle as I can in this state. I hear myself yelling for Aizawa-sensei, getting his attention from across the field. His eyes widen as he and the rest of the class stop what they're doing to come see what's going on.

"What happened?!" He yelled as he approached us on the ground. I didn't respond as I held Y/N close, just stroking his (h/l) (h/c) hair and whispering to him. Kirishima is the one who spoke up.

"It looks like he overused his quirk and passed out," he states quietly.

Y/N's unfocused eyes open and stare up at me from my lap. I sigh in relief and cup his face in my hands like I do when he's in pain. Without thinking, I lean down and press my lips softly against his and hold them there. I hear quiet gasps and several "I knew it!" from my classmates. As I pull away, I realized that I just came out to my whole class and kissed my not-so-secret boyfriend in front of them. But instead of embarrassment or anger, I feel relieved, happy even.

Y/N's eyes are more focused now but I know he still isn't fully aware of what's going on right now, so I just continue to stroke his hair and whisper softly to him. He reaches up and lightly plays with a few strands of my hair, slowly moving his hand down to my eyes, then to my eyes, nose, and then to my mouth where he began to trace my lips with his thumb.

"What are you doing, dumbass?" I jokingly ask him. But when he answers he is serious and I know he is remember the morning we stopped talking. Then he smiles and pulls my nose to his, rubbing them together softly.

"I'm enjoying the little things."

[revirushifaa]

OK, but imagine MC dying of old age while their daughter is still super young and Lucifer doing his best as a single dad for centuries as their daughter grows from the terrible twos into the teenage rebellious streak that definitely didn't come from him (it did).

Haaah, more papa Sushifer is in order! This is already fun, so I'll give up a scenario!

Enjoy!

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

Daughter of Pride:

MC is gone. His partner is gone, and now the only thing that was left of them, was their one-year-old daughter, Lucille. While Lucifer was still a little mournful over his mate's loss, he promised to them that he would be the one raising their firstborn, it was a promise that he won't break, he did his best with the raising alone, after all he had experience with raising children.

Lucille was a demon like her father so she aged differently from her human parent so it was only natural that MC died without seeing their daughter grow up, something that torment them even to the last moment of their life. Lucifer didn't wish to remember that sad day. It had to be one of the most saddest days of his long life.

Please, MC, my dearest... stay with me

Lucifer... take good care of my little girl. Tell her that I love her... I love you too, both of you...

With that last sentence and warm smile, MC stopped living. He was so devastated that he turned himself colder around everyone... but his daughter. Lucille was the only living being left from his mate, the one who he had to protect and raise. It wasn't an easy task, normally, MC was who took care of her the major part while he was absent in business with Diavolo.

But he had promised with his heart to MC, that Lucille would be cared for and raised well. Just looking his daughter, it remembered him of MC. While she had his body form and face features, her hair and her eyes were MC's, it was like seeing his beloved in their daughter, which he took as comfort. He would nuzzle Lucille at nights and snuggled her in bed, the baby half demoness had MC's calid smile and laugh, but she had also inherited that hard attitude from Lucifer. It was a mix, of hard and soft.

"You are my pride and joy, Lucille. Never forget that, daughter mine."

What he would always murmur in her small ears as he snuggled her and cradled her. With his daughter with him, he didn't become full isolated to his room, if he had lost both MC and Lucille, then Lucifer wouldn't be sane at all. At least Lucille was safe and sound with him.

"No, Lucille. You cannot have sugar all three meals."

As the little demoness grew up, she was more hard to raise or to try to discipline. She was spoiled, that was true, and sometimes she turned out bratty.

"But I wanna sugar. SUGAR NOW!!"

"Lucille—"

"SUGAR!!!"

Sometimes her temper tantrums, gave Lucifer huge migraines and constant stress. It was when he used his major authorital tone, that he made her to stop acting up. And if that didn't work, then it was taking her privileges and sometime in the corner. He never hit her as a punishment. No. He just couldn't bring himself to do that, the demoness was only three and if he did that, he would be breaking an important promise that he had made to MC. Be fair with my little girl, Lu.

So physical discipline was a no-go with him. There were other ways that worked his way. Like when he grounded her from playing with her toys for three days. She would only study and practice her writing. No dessert as well. He had glared sternly at Beel, warning him to not be lenient when his daughter was grounded.

"That's it, young demoness. No toys or dessert for THREE days."

"But, Daddy-"

"No buts, or else I'll add another day to your grounding."

That was all to shut her savage mouth in protesting. Of course seeing her sob and cry because he was too harsh in speaking to her, always made his heart hurt. He would always tone down his voice and speak more gentler to her, explaining why he did that, and then fix the situation with offering to do a compromise, if she was well-behaved and willing to it.

As she reached into adolescense, that was a huge stress to the poor prideful father. Lucille at 16 was such a pain in the butt. Demanding and rebellious, a huge picky eater and a true brat.

"I will be clear with you, young demoness. If you give me an ounce of attitude, then your D.D.D will be confiscated for a month, you won't go out during that time and will be put on chores duty for until I see an improvement in your behavior. And you will write three thousand times I will not disrespect or disobey my father. Clear?

Lucille would huff at how strict her father had turned himself into. But she hadn't known that it was all her part to have put him that way. Lucifer was fair if she was fair, it was a cycle of giving and giving back. Lucille behaved, Lucifer rewarded her. Lucille misbehaved, then Lucifer punished her.

"Father, when did you turn like an old boring grandpa? I only want to have fun! You can't keep me as your prisoner in this boring house!"

"Lucille, I demand more respect from you. This is your father, speaking to you. And I never said that I would keep you here all the time. But first things first. Do your school work and then you can go out. Do we have a compromise?"

"Fine. We have a compromise, Dad."

Lucifer would smile a bit softly, when the young demoness was reasonable.

"That's my good, little demoness." He would end it with a kiss to the top of her hair, before departing from her and going to do his own work and the demoness would go to do her own thing as promised.

Sometimes the lying habit came to Lucille and because of her, Mammon got in many trouble when it was all her buying the latest of fashion clothes.

"How do you explain this, Mammon?"

"Hey, what have you gotten into you?! I don't buy girly stuff! Maybe you should ask Lucille!"

....

"LUCILLE!!!!"

"What?"

She would come to him with a nonchalant look, as she's wearing highly expensive clothes and from that, is when Lucifer realized that it's all his daughter and not his greedy brother.

"So it was you who spent all of our money to please your nonsense..."

"Nonsense, Dad? I am a demoness in need of good clothes and looks! What if I find some good looking human in the future? They wouldn't like a normie, like how Uncle Levi dubs it!"

Lucifer's poor head throbs with absolute pain and stress. Ugh his daughter, is again causing him to go grey at just the age that he was at currently.

"Apologize to your uncle and then go to your room and write three thousand times I will not lie and blame my uncle into buying items that I don't need. Right now. March."

"But, Dad!"

"No 'but Dad'. Now, Young demoness. Or else, I will make you write it fifteen thousand times. How is it going to be?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Mammon..."

And after her uncle acknowledged her apology, she went up to her room to do that, with a sad face, she didn't want at all to make her father disappointed today. Lucifer took notice of it, but decided to wait until she was done with the writings to talk about it.

It was several hours but she was done, and her handwriting had gotten better, it was because of the writing punishments that it got better, seeing as this was a very common punishment that her father doled out to her when she was being disobedient or a brat.

"I...I'm done..." she said in a quiet voice.

Lucifer had looked up from the papers that he was signing. He frowned softly, the demoness hadn't realized it but she had a few tears rushing down her cheeks. His firm tone from before had softened to that gentle tone, as he approached her and pulled her into his hold.

"I hope this will be enough to end your lying habit. I do not like seeing you sad, but you know I cannot let you get away with something that you have done wrong. It is okay now. You have learned and there is not reason for me to keep mad."

He had soft-spoken to her, the way that she knew that he wasn't mad or disappointed anymore. But Lucille couldn't help feeling bad either way. She in fact, never liked putting her dad mad or disappointed in her, she let the silent tears trickle down. Lucifer said nothing, his comfort was always silent and he showed it with actions rather than words. He held her in his arms, all the time that she needed.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad..."

"There's no need to apologize now, this case has been solved. Don't beat yourself too much over it, your uncle had forgiven you, I have forgotten about it. It's all okay, Lulu."

And by calling her by her special nickname that he had for her, she knew all was well. She hugged more but to show him that she actually loved him so deeply. Lucifer already knew that, he loved his daughter with all his life, it didn't matter how much trouble she was, that wouldn't change anything.

He might be cold, stern and everything else that others said of him behind his back, but the love of a father was above everything else. He loved his demoness quite so much, so that was what was important.

"I love you, Dad. And I mean it."

"I love you too, daughter mine, with all my heart."

[imagines-r-s]

silver - n. patrick

ok, so this is my first time writing anything to do with the NHL, so feedback is greatly appreciated

Nolan Patrick x reader

summary: the one where everyone around you is annoyed of how oblivious the two of you are

my requests are open-- taglist: @sortagaysortahigh

wc: 7.9k

a/n: this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written omg. also huge shoutout to @barbienoturbby​ and @sunsetholland​ for reading this and for validation

warnings: angst, mutual pining, a few swear words, you and nol being oblivious, fighting, brief mention of injury

(gif not mine)

When you got the ‘SOS’ text from Nolan, you quickly assumed the worst. Knowing that he had just gotten out of practice you assumed he had gotten hurt during practice or he was dealing with another migraine and since it was your day off from your job as the Flyers trainer, you assumed the worst - one of your coworkers was there, but that didn’t mean that Nolan would go to them. You were caught even more off guard when he sent a second text a few minutes later, ‘i’m picking you up in 15. be ready’

The cryptic messages from your best friend weren’t helping your confusion, so you decided the best option was to call him. He picked up shortly after the second ring, “Hey y/n/n, what’s up?”

“What’s up? That’s all you have to say after those wack text messages?”

“Um, when you put it like that? Then yes,” you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smirking, “anyways, I just parked, so I’ll be up to your apartment soon, bye.” 

With that, he ended the call, once again adding to your confusion. Deciding the only thing you could honestly do, you got up from your couch and got dressed. You were halfway through getting your hair done when you heard the door to your apartment unlock. 

Walking towards the door you saw Nolan, his hair still somewhat wet since he rushed here after practice. “Okay, do I get some form of explanation, or are you just going to stand there?”

“Look, I kinda fucked up. But just hear me out, okay?” he rushed out as he paced your living room.

“What do you mean you kinda fucked up?”

“Okay, so... at practice, me and the boys were talking about the charity gala that’s this Friday and a few comments might have been made about how I don’t have a date.”

“Let me guess. And your dumbass went, ‘I have a date, blah, blah, blah, who just happens to work for our team and you all know her’ and I got roped into the equation?” you said, jokingly.

“Wait, how’d you know?” he said with no hint of humor in his voice.

“Wait, you’re serious? I just assumed you needed me to find you a date? But you said I was your date?” heat rushed to your face at the thought of being Nolan’s fake date to the gala. You don’t know how you’re supposed to make it a whole night while having to pretend to be his. 

He simply nodded in response, “Please, y/n/n. It would mean so much. You obviously don’t have to and I can just say you can’t make it or whatever, but-”

“Nol, it’s fine,” you said, cutting off his rambling, “I’m pretty sure I need a dress though.” 

Nolan’s smile grew when he heard what you said, “Yeah, that’s why I came here. I kinda figured you’d say yes anyway, so it just kinda worked out.” 

“Oh, don’t try to act all cocky on me now, you were just pacing my living room in fear that I would say no.”

“Besides the point. Anyways, let’s go get you that dress,” Nolan said, grabbing your hand and leading you out the apartment. You did your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as your hand intertwined with his.  

“So, what does your suit look like?” you asked as you glanced around the store for a dress. “Oh, I was just thinking simple black, but I’ll match the tie with whatever color your dress or shoes are. We have to make sure they think we’re actually together.”

“Y-yeah. You’re right,” his words hurt you a little more than they should have. He was right. This wasn’t real and if you didn’t sell it well enough then Nolan would get the backhand of it. “What if I got that black dress over there?” you pointed to a simple off the shoulder black dress with a slit up to your mid-thigh,” and then get colorful shoes that you can get a tie to match?”

You missed the way Nolan gulped when you were busy looking for your size. He already knew the dress would look amazing on you, so when you found your size he knew he was in for it. “I’m going to go try this on real quick, I’ll be back,” you said before making your way to talk to an associate there. 

As soon as you stepped out of the dressing room in the dress, he knew he was screwed. His mind immediately going places that it shouldn’t have.“Nol, what do you think?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was thinking a lot more than he should have. “Oh, uh, you look beautiful, y/n,” he forced out. 

“I feel like this look would need a statement necklace or something to go with it, to kinda draw it all together, you know,” you said before doing a spin, “I don’t think I’m going to get it though.”

“You’re getting it,” he insisted. He didn’t care about the price, he knew that the dress was meant for you. He didn’t care that he might only see it once, but he could tell you loved the dress. He also loved you in the dress. 

Whenever you got home that night, you were met with your roommate in the kitchen. “So, you going to tell me where you and Nolan were all day? And don’t try to deny it, I heard your conversation this morning about the gala,” Mae teased. 

Mae had known you long enough to know how you felt about Nolan, she also knew Nolan well enough to know how he felt about you. Being the photographer for the Flyers, gave her an insight into the many interactions that you and Nolan had - both of you always looking for the other when there’s practice or a game, stolen glances when he’s on the bench, and him going out of his way to see you in your office (even when he isn’t hurt). She knew that if the two of you just said how you felt, that the two you would be happy with each other.  

“If you heard our conversation, I don’t know why you’re asking what we did. We went shopping, that’s all.”

“Have y’all confessed your love for each other yet? Or is it still ‘unknown’ information?”

“It’s all very one-sided and you know that.”

“Not according to Kevin,” you scoffed.

“Okay, so one person says otherwise.”

“Or TK, or Hartsy, or-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

“Pretty much anyone on the Flyers roster would agree with me,” Mae said, making sure her point was clear. Even with everything she said, you still didn’t believe her. “You should honestly just talk to him. And maybe actually be honest about how you feel for once.”

“Anyways, I have to go shower now. I still have to get some stuff ready for the gala tomorrow,” you left before she could say anything more.

…..

Nolan had decided to take it upon himself to make sure you had the best possible day that you could. Since he didn’t have practice, he decided to go to your favorite bakery and get you breakfast and your favorite coffee. Knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be up for a while, he swung by a jewelry shop to get you a necklace to go with your dress to ‘bring the look together’. 

“Hello sir, how can I help you today?” the salesperson said when Nolan walked in. 

“Oh, so I was wondering if you had any type of hockey charms? Or initial charms?”

“Yes, we do actually. Silver or gold?”

“Definitely silver,” he said, thinking back to your shoes and his tie.

“Alright, if you’ll follow me,” the man led Nolan over to a glass display, directing him to the sports charms that they had. When Nolan saw the hockey charms, he smiled at the thought of you wearing it. “And what initial did you want, sir?”

“An ‘N’ “

After he paid for the necklace he made his way towards your apartment. Using the spare key you had given him when you took into account how many times he came over, he opened your front door. 

“I still forget the fact that you have a key,” Mae said looking up from the couch, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Which thing?” Nolan said, setting his keys down on the counter. He noticed that you weren’t in the living room and assumed you were still asleep.  

“I was just talking about the coffee and bag from the cafe, but is there something else?”

Nolan simply nodded, “yeah, I just want y/n to have a good day since she’s going with me to the gala.” 

Mae eyed him suspiciously, “What else did you get her?”

“Huh?” 

“You said ‘which thing’, which hints that there’s more than just coffee.”

“Oh, I got her a necklace for tonight.”

“Did you give her a key to your apartment and an engagement ring, too? Or is that next week?”

Nolan simply rolled his eyes at her statement, “It’s not like that.”

“It’s only that way because both of you are stubborn and oblivious. Did you get me a bagel or just her?” Mae said, glancing at the bag. Nolan nodded before getting everything out of the bag, “thanks, Nolan.”

He made his way towards your room, quietly opening the door to make sure not to wake you. Stopping for a moment at your door when he saw your sleeping form, before making his way to your bed. “y/n/n, I got you your favorite,” he said gently. 

“Too early,” you groaned into your pillow, causing Nolan to laugh. “Babe, it’s 1 pm and Mae said you even went to bed early,” Nolan didn’t realize what he had said, but after hearing him say that nickname you were wide awake. 

“It’s still too early,” you said, finally sitting up, “but what did you get me?”

“Your usual,” he handed you the bad when he noticed you had gotten settled against your headboard. 

“Thanks, Nol. You know you don’t have to do-,” you paused as you noticed the jewelry box that he was still holding, “what’s in the box?”

“Oh, I-uh, I got you something for tonight. Obviously, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I just thought it would look nice with the dress,” he wasn’t even sure what prompted him to get it. 

“Show me,” you said, taking a drink of your coffee. 

“What?” 

“Nol, show me what you got me,” you chuckled at his obvious nervousness. He ignored the fear that you would hate it as he struggled to open the box. When he finally got the box open, he immediately passed the box over to you. The anxious feeling in his chest only grew when there was no immediate response from you. 

“I, uh, wow. Nolan, you shouldn’t have. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Y-yeah, I know. But you said you needed a necklace to go with it and you honestly deserve so much for agreeing to go with me,” he said, finally meeting your eyes. “You deserve the world, y/n/n,” he whispered, averting his gaze down to your lips. You weren’t sure if you imagined it or not, but when you looked back up at him, he had gotten closer than he was before. 

“Nol,” you whispered, as you noticed that he was getting closer, his lips eventually ghosting over yours. 

“Hey, Nol, these bagels are great are you sure that you got them from the usual cafe,” Mae yelled as she barged into your room, causing the two of you to practically jump away from each other. 

“Um, yeah,” he stated, his voice laced with annoyance,” the same one that’s a block away. Just like the bag says.” 

He immediately shot a glare your way at the sound of both you and Mae laughing, “god, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Don’t you agree, y/n?” 

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Nolan’s face softening at the sound of you laughing.

…..

Mae stayed in your room while you got ready for the gala - helping you out anytime you needed with either your hair or makeup. As she listened to you ramble about Nolan and the day you had yesterday, she knew she had to interfere. Quickly pulling out her phone, she pulled up the contact of the one person she knew who would help her out, who just happened to be Nolan’s best friend. 

heyyy teeks, i need your help

tk: i feel like you only text me when you need something. but what’s up

y/n and nolan.

tk : oh ok, yeah. he said she was his date for tonight though? i just assumed they finally talked it out?

well, they’re going as the others ‘fake date’. i’m very impatient and they are very dumb, so i need you to think of something

tk : why can’t you think of something?

i won’t be at the gala + i’m out of ideas

After the exchange of many text messages, Mae and Travis finally had a plan to help their two dumbass friends finally talk about how they felt. 

“Who are you texting?” you asked when you saw Mae furiously typing away.

“Oh, just asking Teeks about the practice schedule?” she said, quickly coming up with an excuse.

“You know we work at the same time? Right? Like our schedules are the exact same?”

“Oh, yeah. I just wanted to see when would be a good time to get some statements for the team’s Instagram stories.” 

You nodded hesitantly,” for some odd reason, I don’t believe you. But I also don’t know if I really want to know.”

“Anyways, what time is Nol picking you up?”

“He should be here-,” stopping when you heard the front door unlock, “now.” 

Before you were even able to stand up from your vanity, Mae was already at the door. “Woah, Nolan, who knew you could clean up well.”

“Wow, Mae. You’re always so nice to me,” Nolan grumbled in response, “where’s y/n/n?”

“She should be out soon. She looks hot as hell, by the way. I know you’ll see her, but I just thought I’d let you know beforehand.”

“Well, it is her. She always looks beautiful,” he said without a second thought.

“Ooooh, Nol. You getting soft on us? Over a girl? Gasp. Never saw that one coming.”

“Mae, shut the literal fuck up. I swear if you make one more joke about me and y/n, I’ll-” before he was able to finish his sentence, you had emerged from the hallway wearing the dress. The dress. The same dress that nearly made him pass out in the store. Except now, you also had on the necklace with his initial and the shoes that matched what he was wearing. “Wow.”

You giggled at his reaction, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to your face, “wow to you, too.”

“Was that you were saying, Nolan? I make one more joke about you and-” Mae interrupted, snapping both you and Nolan out of whatever trance you were in. Nolan saw the look of confusion cross your face, “I won’t get you any bagels next time I go out.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t!”

“I would, actually.”

“Okay, did I miss something?” you said, looking between your two best friends.

“No,” the both of them said simultaneously. 

….. As the two of you entered the ballroom that the gala was taking place, you took note of the amount of orange, black, and white decorations filling the room. All the players were scattered throughout the ballroom with their dates, some dancing, some near the bar, others talking. 

Nolan kept his arm wrapped around your waist as he led you near Travis and Joel, who were standing near the bar. He let his arm fall when you mentioned you needed to go talk to Ryanne and made his way over to the boys. 

“Dude, I thought you were joking when you said you were bringing y/n as your date,” Joel said when he knew you were far enough away. 

“She looks hot as hell, I say that respectfully. If Mae found out I said that - in any context - she would murder me,” Travis knew that what he was saying would have an effect on his friend, that’s exactly why he said it. This was the plan that he and Mae had agreed to, the plan they hoped would work. 

Nolan clenched his jaw, his body becoming tense from the words that he had heard from his friends. “Ok, Travis,” he simply nodded, in hopes that the conversation would end there. 

“I mean is she still single?” Joel added.

“Well, I mean, yes, but-”

“I might ask her out soon. I mean you said she was single, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Ooh, Farabee’s getting bold,” Travis added. 

Before Nolan could get another word out, you had made your back to the boys. “Hey, Nols. Did you want to go dance with me?” you asked, using all the courage you had in you. 

“No,” he inwardly grimaced at how sharp his answer came out, but he was upset. He knew you deserve someone better than him. All his insecurities were reaching the surface over a simple statement his friend had made. 

“No?”

“Yeah, why don’t you ask Farabee,” your brows furrowed as you saw him get up and walk away, joining Carter and Hayes at a table.

“Um, what’s up with him?” 

“Farabee made a joke about his hair,” Travis made up on the spot. 

“Oh, his hair?” to which both boys nodded, “um, alright.”

Your thoughts were racing. You knew it was something other than a joke about his hair, he would have chirped back if it was something like that. You hesitantly agreed to dance with Joel, knowing that after you danced you need to talk to Nolan. You and Joel made small talk, but your mind was a thousand miles away. “I can tell your mind is on something else, what’s up?” Joel interrupted your thoughts. 

“I know you didn’t say anything about his hair,” you shot him a pointed look. 

Joel only chuckled in response, “oh yeah, me and Teeks were trying to get him to admit something about how he felt about you, but instead he got all snarky. It definitely defeated the purpose of the joke, but we didn’t expect him to not say anything. If you go to him and talk to him, I’m sure it’ll all be okay.” 

Once the song that was playing ended, that’s exactly what you did. 

Or at least that was what you planned on doing. 

You knew that finally telling Nolan how you felt would be risky. That’s what had stopped you so many times. But right now, the stars seemed to have aligned. Every one of your friends was telling you that things were mutual and that nothing would go wrong if you were just honest. Everything was leaning in the right direction.

Until you hit a stop sign. 

That stop sign being Nolan being nowhere in sight. And once you saw him, you wished you hadn’t. You watched from a distance as the person you were about to confess your feelings to had another girl in his arms. An ex-fling of his that he said he was over. Her making advances, him not necessarily ignoring them. 

Quickly turning on your heel, you grabbed your phone out of your clutch and called Mae. “Hey babes. Are you calling to say you won’t be home and that you and Nol- are you crying?”

“Can you just come and get me? If you can’t I can get a ride home, but-” you sniffled.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m on my way.”

Your feet led you towards the front lounge area near the entrance where you waited on Mae. You didn’t want to talk about anything, so you texted TK asking him to come to the front entrance. 

“Love, what happened?”

“Nolan was- he was, uh. Fuck. tried to-to go talk to him and he was with his ex, but yeah. He was already avoiding me before and I was just wanting to tell him,” by the time you had finished explaining, Travis had already enveloped you in his arms.

“Nolan is an idiot, alright? He’ll realize his mistake, but don’t blame yourself, ok?”

Before you could respond, you got the text from Mae saying she was here. “Mae’s here.”

“Make sure you get some rest and let me know if you need me to beat him up for you,” he said, finally getting you to smile. 

When you finally made it to Mae’s car, she passed you a pint of your favorite ice cream and then the two of you made your way home. She didn’t know ho

…..

“Nolan James Patrick, get your ass over here before I drag you off the ice,” Mae yelled throughout the rink. It was only a few people running drills, so she wasn’t interrupting an ‘official’ practice - she wouldn’t care if she had. Mae had to finish editing some new posts for the Flyers’ social media and she also had to kick Nolan Patrick’s ass, so might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

“So you won’t answer my calls, but you’ll drag me out of morning skate?” Nolan said, as he skated towards where she was standing. 

“Yes, exactly. What the fuck happened? y/n won’t leave her room and she told me she’s debating calling off work tomorrow, which is dumb because she’s the only trainer competent enough for game days.” 

“She just assumed the worst, that’s what happened. And if she wants to avoid me that much, so be it,” he stepped off the ice to get closer to Mae. 

“You aren’t slick, Pat. Everyone can see how miserable you are without her. And it’s only been like 10 hours.”

He knew Mae was right. He felt awful for what had happened at the gala, spending all the time after you left sulking and he only came to morning skate to get his mind off things, but he could only imagine how you had felt. “Look, Joel said something about asking her out, I was mad, and I also happened to run into an ex. Nothing happened between me and her, but I think y/n/n saw. Is she going to be ok?”

“Well, all things considered, if you clear up the air with her and actually talk to her like a man, instead of acting like a prepubescent boy. I’m sure she’ll be okay, but the two of you actually have to talk.”

Nolan’s head wasn’t in the right space, from morning skate or to regular practice. His mind was anywhere else, but in the game. It was so bad that he was close to being benched for his next game. His teammates were aware of what was going on, knowing they had to do something to at least get his head in the right spot. 

You weren’t supposed to come in to work until later tonight to prepare for the game, but Mae had asked for your help with a piece she was working on about the Flyers staff and trainers. So, you quickly packed up your work bag and made your way to the rink. Going to your office first, you expected Mae to be the person in the chair, but you were met with the one person you were trying to avoid. “y/n, hey.”

Your heart skipped a beat after hearing his voice for the first time in a while. “Hey, Nolan. Look about the other night, it wasn’t my place to be upset. I was only there as your fake date, so me getting upset about seeing you with another girl shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.”

“No, y/n/n. What happened on my part wasn’t right, you’re not in the wrong for reacting how you did,” he knew you would take the blame, but he also knew he had to make sure that how you felt was reasonable and there was nothing wrong with you reacting. 

“Look, me and you are fine, I promise. We’re back to being best friends, I have to go talk to Mae. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said before turning around and leaving Nolan. You hadn’t said everything that you wanted to, but right now wasn’t the time.

Nolan started following you out of your office, making an attempt to catch up to you. “y/n/n, nothing happened between me and her, I promise.” He could only watch as you kept walking away. 

…...

“So, are you and Nol going to do your handshake? Or are you going to let the team lose against the Islanders? Like I know you know some of the guys on the team, but that’s very disloyal of you,” Mae asked as she opened the door to the arena, quickly stepping to the side so that way you could jump and hit the top of the door. 

“You do realize that the results of the game don’t depend on if me and Nol do the handshake?” 

“Alright, Ms. ‘I have to hit the top of the doorway or else we’ll lose’. You literally left the arena crying one day because you forgot to do it.” Game days were very ritualistic, for both staff and the players. Many players had their own habits and rituals that they knew helped them win a game, some of the staff had their own rituals - you included. 

You always made sure to get you and Mae your usual coffee order before the two of you made your way to the rink. Every time you entered the arena or left your office, you would jump up to hit the top of the doorway - which everyone on the team thought was hilarious, even though a lot of them started doing it themselves. Then there was the secret handshake you and Nolan do almost every time he goes on the ice. 

“Look, my habits are reasonable, but I don’t know if the handshake will happen today,” you answered honestly. 

“Knowing him, he’s not going to let you avoid it. He needs it just as much as you do.”

“What do you mean?” 

Mae chuckled in response, “you really are oblivious sometimes. Alright, well anytime you two do the handshake, both of you visibly light up. I’ve seen it enough times to know that I’m not wrong. It’s a part of both of your routines and you’ll freak out if it doesn’t happen, so even though stuff is going on between the two of you, it’s not going to change the fact that you’re both a part of the others routine.” You visibly gaped at your best friend, which only made her laugh harder. “Look, you can act shocked all you want, but the two of you are so used to seeing each other at least once a day, that the two of you not talking consistently is driving both of you crazy.”

“I’m not going to agree, but I’m not going to deny it.”

“You literally can’t deny it because I’m right,” she said in a sing-song voice. 

“Anyways, moving on. What posts do you have planned for tonight's game?”

“Well, I’ve kinda been working on a secret project, but I still need a few more shots for it. But other than that, just the usual posts of goals made and action shots.”

“Ooh, secret project? Am I allowed in the secret social media project?”

“No, you’re not at that level of clearance yet, top secret,” she smirked,”also, you know it’s almost time for morning practice and if I remember correctly, you still have to do your job. You still haven’t gotten your bag from your office yet, so you better hurry babes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you down there?” to which she nodded in response. As the two of you made your way down to the ice, you took a detour to get to your office, leaving Mae by herself. 

Mae went to the usual spot that the two of you would stand during morning skate, which also happened to be the same spot that you would stand at during the games, right in between the bench and the tunnel. While you were in your office, Mae was able to set up to get a few action shots - even though it was just morning skate she loved getting pictures of the boys when they weren’t necessarily in their competitive mode. 

While she was taking a few pictures, she noticed Nolan looking around the rink, his eyes always coming back to where she stood after finishing a drill or lap. When she saw Travis skate near the bench, she quietly called him over, “dude, look at Nolan. He looks like a lost puppy.”

Nolan’s head still wasn’t in the right spot, he was able to get it together enough to be able to play, but his head was everywhere else. When he saw Mae, he immediately started looking for you, which only bummed him out more when he realized you might have actually called in saying you wouldn’t be able to make it. 

“Oh, yeah. He’s been like that all day since he hasn’t seen y/n here. Did she actually call in like she said she would?”

“No, she’s just in her office getting her bag. She threatened not to do their handshake, so you know things are serious,” she said, taking a few more pictures.

“Damn, Pat will go insane if she’s actually serious.”

“She’s not serious, she better not be at least.”

“Oh shit, the project. You’re still working on it?” TK asked, to which Mae nodded.

“You mean to tell me Teeks knows about the project and I don’t,” you interjected, causing them both to laugh. 

“Dude, Pat thought you actually called in today and he looked like he was going to cry,” Travis added. 

“Who told him I was thinking about calling in?” you asked, looking between the duo in front of you. 

“I kinda showed up to practice yesterday and threatened him. Nothing serious, just the usual ‘get your shit together or else’,” Mae said, shrugging, “he’s very threatened by those shorter than him.” 

At the sound of your laugh, Nolan’s head immediately snapped over to where he knew you usually stood, seeing you around Mae and Teeks. His face and mood immediately lighting up at the sight of you standing there. 

Teeks left shortly after, leaving you and Mae alone. “Was Nol that worried I wouldn’t come?”

“Bitch, you can’t be serious right now? Of course he was worried, you’re basically his good luck charm at this point.” 

“I’m not-”

“You are. Don’t even try to deny it. You and I both know it. I’ll see you at lunch”

Nolan took notice of how quickly you looked for him whenever Mae left. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just routine, but the smile that you sent his way had him forgetting any worries he had. Just as he was about to come over to you, Coach ushered him to do media. Quickly sending you a sad smile, he followed. 

As soon as the boys cleared out from morning skate to head to do media, you started getting the benches ready for the game; getting the water bottles filled, making sure there were enough sticks, and checking that all the pucks were there. You took your time, as you still had quite a bit of time before you had to head to meetings with other staff members. 

Shortly after staff meetings and lunch with Mae were done, you got a text from Zach, your assistant trainer, saying that the Islanders were in the process of getting settled. Since you trusted Zach to take care of that, you took this time to check on any injuries that any players had to make sure that they were in the best shape they could be for the game today. 

mattyb: psst. is the room clear? me and tito can’t be seen talking to the enemy

you’re good to come into the training room, idk what the hallway looks like though

When you heard the door close, you didn’t even have to look up from what you were doing to know who it was. Quickly turning around you saw two of your closest friends, “I didn’t think I’d actually miss you guys and here we are.”

“Did y/n y/l/n just admit to missing us? Did I miss something?” Tito said.

“Ooh, I think Philly has made her go soft. Let’s take a moment of silence for our fallen friend,” Mat added. 

“Do you two ever shut up?”

“There she is,” Mat came over to you to give you a hug, Tito following behind. 

“I’m surprised you willingly hugged me. Matty B, I’m the enemy here,” you said, causing Mat to roll his eyes at the nickname.

“Back at it with that stupid nickname.” 

“Don’t worry, y/n/n, we both know he loves that nickname.” 

The three of you took the time that you had to catch up, eventually ending up walking throughout the arena back towards their locker room. Wishing both of the boys luck, Tito walked into the locker room first, but you noticed Mat seemed hesitant on walking in. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up?” you asked, unsure of what he was meaning. 

“No, I can clearly tell that something is wrong. Tito probably noticed too, he just doesn’t mention stuff like that.”

“Um, stuff is going on with me and Nolan. I don’t really know what, it’s just this really long story.”

“Did he do something? I’ll beat him up if you need me to?”

“No, no. Nothing happened, well stuff did, but nothing that you need to beat him up for.”

“Did you finally tell him how you feel? Did he reject you or something?”

“No, um, me and him went to a charity gala together, but only as each other's fake date. I didn’t bring it up as wanting anything else, but then some other stuff happened and now we’re in this awkward ‘we’re fine, but won’t talk it out’ stage. And it’s just hard right now,” you simply shrugged. 

“You know, I don’t know much about him, but I’m sure there’s a lot that has been left unsaid for way too long and now it’s just needing to be out in the open. You two will figure it out, I’m sure,” Mat quickly gave you a hug, “now, I have to go get ready to win this game, so if you’ll excuse me.” 

“Oh, be ready Barzy, my boys will kick your ass.”

“We shall see, y/n. We shall see.” 

Once you saw that Mat had gone back to the locker room, you started making your way back to the Flyers locker room for pregame meetings. You still had at least 30 minutes before the meetings started, but you assumed that the boys would either be stretching or messing around. “You know, you talking to the enemy could get you fired, y/n/n,” you heard Joel say as he walked beside you. 

“Hey, Beezer. How are you today?”

“I’m doing great. I’d be better if my favorite trainer wasn’t seen talking to the enemy,” he nudged you with his elbow. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I didn’t spoil any secrets, I promise. No game plans were exposed.” 

“Hmm. Wait til Nols hears about this one,” he paused when you visibly tensed, “you guys haven’t talked have you? That’s why morning skate was kinda wack.”

“Well, we have talked, but I don’t think everything that needed to be said was said.”

“So, why don’t you go say it? Simple.” 

“He’s not saying much either,” you said, defensively to which he could only roll his eyes. 

“Well both of you are acting like a couple of 14 year olds that don’t know how to talk to the person they like, no offense, but it’s annoying,” he said, matter of factly. 

You knew Joel was right, he had simply said what everyone around you was thinking. You knew that what he had said the night of the gala was right. You knew what Mae had said about the two of you being a part of each other’s routine was right. You knew - although you would never say it to his face - that Mat was right, too. 

Reaching down, you instinctively grabbed the necklace that Nolan gave you. You only looked up when you heard chuckling in front of you, “what?”

“Your first instinct was to grab the necklace he got you, it might not seem like a lot, but it says a lot.”

…..

Nolan stepped out of the locker room and quickly followed the boys towards the rink. He unconsciously kept an eye out for you, knowing that if he didn’t do the handshake it would throw him off. When warm ups started and he only saw Zach, he started to become worried. The handshake only had to happen before each period, but it often happened more than three times throughout the game. 

Midway through warm up Travis nudged him, who pointed towards where you and Mae were walking closer. He watched as Mae nudged you and pointed in his direction, to which you quickly jogged over, “ok, sorry I didn’t get here before warm-ups. But here’s what’s going to happen ok: you go out there and kick some ass. Specifically so I can prove a point to Mat and Tito, but anyways, you go out there and you help win this game. Then once the game is over we figure out whatever is going on with us. Okay?”

Nolan’s smile only grew, he simply nodded. “Of course, you think I’d let your stupid New York friends win?” 

“I would hope not,” you gave him a quick hug and watched as he started to walk away, “I know damn well that you’re not walking away without doing this handshake,” Nolan quickly took off his gloves so that you could do your handshake,“ there we go. Now you better beat them or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Once the National Anthem was over, the first period started. You already knew that this game would be a tough one, you knew enough about both teams to know that it would be a very close game. By the end of the first, the score was 2-1, the Islanders ahead. 

After the intermission, both teams came back ready for more. You knew the signs of the Islanders getting cocky and you hoped it was noticeable, you and Nolan did your handshake one more time before he went back on the ice. About halfway through the second period, Nolan and Travis had helped get another goal, tying up the score. 

As the team was celebrating your eyes found Nolan’s to which he simply pointed at you in response. You scanned the rest of the rink, only to see Mat and Tito pointing between you and Nolan, your eyebrows furrowed to which they only smiled in response. Oh no. You looked back to Nolan, who was skating back to the bench for water, only to see Tito approaching him from the other side. 

You couldn’t hear what was said, but you knew that whatever it was caused Nolan to get angry. His eyes met yours once more and you only hoped he would ignore whatever was said. You let out a breath of air as he skated back to the bench. Nolan wasn’t on the ice for the next play, but you could see the way he kept his eyes trained on Tito. 

You watched as Mat had the puck, passing it to Tito as they scored another goal. As they celebrated you visibly gaped as Tito pointed in your direction. You could see the smirk grow on his face from what you assumed was Nolan’s reaction. 

You prepared for the worst when Nolan went back on the ice. TK, who was still on the bench, looked back at you with a questioning look. “This is bad, this is very bad,” you whispered. 

“Pssh, he’ll be fine. He hardly ever-” before Travis could even finish his sentence, you saw Nolan and Tito’s gloves come off. “Ok, forget I said that.” You watched as the two boys fought, eventually both were pulled apart by the refs and were ushered towards the penalty box. 

“Dumbass.” 

The game continued and the two of them eventually got out of the penalty box. By the end of the second period, the score was 3-2, the boys only needed to get at least one point to be able to win the game. You were beyond mad at Tito and Mat for egging Nolan on, but you were also mad at Nolan for letting it get to him. 

When you and Nolan did your handshake, you took notice of how his hands were already slightly bruised from the fight, but you would tend to that later. The game proceeded, eventually with both teams tied with only a few minutes left, so either someone would score or the game would go into overtime. 

Everyone in the arena is on the edge of their seats, unsure of what the outcome of the game will be. Carter was able to block all of the Islanders attempts at a goal, which allowed the guys to be able to score without fear of a comeback from the Isles. With less than 20 seconds left, a goal is made by the Flyers. We won the game. 

The atmosphere of the arena erupted in cheers and celebration, the boys crowding around on the ice. You smiled as you watched the team celebrate the win that they just had, your smile growing more when you saw that Nolan was once again looking your way. “He’s been looking your way the whole game and you want to tell me he doesn’t think of you as his good luck charm? Okay, y/n,” Mae said, interrupting your thought process. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. No need for that,” you said rolling your eyes, “You’ll meet me by the training room once you’re done?”

She simply nodded in response. Staying in the arena for a while as fans and spectators cleared out, you cleared off the benches and started making your way back to the training room. “y/n,” a familiar voice yelled from behind you as you passed the visiting locker rooms. 

Turning around you saw Tito approaching, Mat following behind. “Look, I’m sorry about what I did. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have, but as long as you left it on the ice we’re cool. Just know that I’m not afraid to punch you out either. I appreciate the apology though, T.” 

“Please don’t punch him again, but now that I know we’re cool. Can we just take a second and mention the reaction that we got out of Nolan?” Mat questioned. 

“Exactly, I wouldn’t react that way unless I was literally in love with the girl. He’s whipped, dude,” Tito added. 

“He’s not.”

“He is,” the pair in front of you said in unison. “It’s so obvious and the two of you are just oblivious,” Mat added. Before you could say anything else, you saw Anders emerge from the locker room, “hey, y/n. Your boys did good today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Always the humble one, y/n,” he sighed,”Anyways, what was up with your boy today?” he added. 

“Well, Tito also chirped him, so I don’t think it was an all one sided ordeal,” you stated. 

“Did you notice how he didn’t mention who he was talking about? He literally just said ‘your boy’ and you immediately knew he meant Pat,” heat rushed to your face at Mat’s statement.

“Anyways, you guys had a great game. Next time we play each other, we have to make plans and catch up more,” you quickly said your goodbyes and made your way back to the training room where a familiar figure was already sitting on one of the benches. “Hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey, Nol,” you set your bag down and quickly headed over to get some ice for his hand, “you’re a dumbass, you know that.” 

“Well, I have you constantly reminding me, so yeah,” he smiled at the fact that the two of you fell back into your normal conversation.

“So, you want to explain why you got into a fight?” you already knew why he did, but something was telling you that you didn’t know something. 

“Not particularly, but I know you won’t accept that answer,” he sighed, “he made a comment about him asking you out and I’ve already dealt with a comment like that about you before, but it really got in my head this time. And then he pointed to you after your goal and I don’t know.” As he ran his hand through his hair, his eyes finally met yours, “I got jealous.”

“Nolan Patrick, jealous? Never saw that one coming,” you walked back over towards him to assess his hand, “well your hand looks fine, you’ll probably just have to ice it for a few days.” Standing back up you noticed Nolan’s eyes on your neck, “what is it?”

“You’re still wearing the necklace I gave you.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, I figured you’d throw it away after what happened. I honestly thought you wouldn’t show up today or do our handshake and it scared me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “why did it scare you?”

“I, uh, after us not talking, I realized how much I need you in my life and I realized I love you a lot more than I thought I did before.” Your eyes widened as you realized what he had said, “you love me?”

“Is it hard that hard to believe?”

“I- I don’t know, I just didn’t realize how you felt the same,” looking up you saw Nolan’s face visibly light up. Before you could say anything else, he pulled you closer to him.

Brushing a piece of hair away from your face, he leaned closer, softly whispering another I love you before his lips met yours softly. Once the two of you pulled away, you simply smiled at one another.

“Yes, finally. Teeks, you owe me $20. Pay up,” Mae said to Teeks, both leaning on the doorway. 

“You two couldn’t have waited another day for that,” Travis said, handing over the money. 

“Oh, you might want to check Instagram really quick. Nolan, I assume you’re taking y/n/n home?” 

The blush on Nolan’s face grew as he looked over to you for confirmation to which you nodded before walking over to pull your phone out of your bag. Opening Instagram, you went to the Flyers Instagram, taking note of a few new posts before seeing the most recent one captioned ‘Pre-game handshakes are definitely the most important part of game day’ with a video of you and Nolan doing your handshake before each game over the few years you had done it. 

“Awe, Mae. Was this the secret project?”

“Yeah, now I’ll leave you two,” she said before walking away, only to come back a few seconds later, “oh and use protection, kiddos.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

Tender

Jiang Cheng can feel his pulse pounding behind his eyes. He has been stressed more than normally at work, with how his father simply keeps unloading all of his own work on to Jiang Cheng, without caring if he can manage it or not, and with the headache Jiang Cheng’s mood has plummeted like it hasn’t in a long time.

He snaps at everyone who steps foot into his office that day and in the end his father comes by to specifically tell him very sternly that he’s more than disappointed with Jiang Cheng and that he expects a better behaviour on the next day.

Jiang Cheng has half a mind snapping at him, too, but in the end he clenches his jaw and simply nods.

His father leaves without another look back and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually feel like putting in over-time that day, so he simply gathers his things and leaves.

His mood doesn’t magically improve when he comes home, even though Thyme and Garlic weave around his feet as if it’s their sole purpose to make him feel better, but the headache only marginally lessens.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure that it’s about to be a full on migraine and he couldn’t care less for that. He hopes he can get it under control somehow before it makes thinking too hard.

Jiang Cheng decides to go to bed early that day—maybe sleeping it off will help him—but before he goes to sleep he has to give Garlic and Thyme their treats. It’s not their fault that he’s in a bad mood, after all.

They come running as soon as they hear him opening the cupboard and Jiang Cheng gives one treat to each of them, before he relocates to the living-room to make them work for it.

Everything is fine in one second, and in the next Thyme is making a noise as she staggers around on three legs.

“Thyme? Baby?” Jiang Cheng tries, and watches in helpless horror as Thyme walks backwards, not putting any weight on her left front paw, before she hides under the table.

She only stays there for a moment though, before she retreats into a safer corner, and Jiang Cheng already fears the worst.

She does take the offered treats, but she doesn’t come out and Jiang Cheng still sees her favouring her left front paw.

“What happened?” he asks and carefully takes the paw in his hand, but Thyme pulls it back and then curls around it.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn, because it’s clear that Thyme is hurt, even though he has no clue how it happened, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s late already, and he’s not sure if this warrants a trip to the emergency vet or not, and so he decides to wait.

Thyme is skittish but she does leave her hiding spot at one point and limps through the apartment. She eats and she jumps up on several high places, even though she doesn’t seem to know how she’s supposed to get down from them again and every time that happens, Jiang Cheng bursts into tears again.

It’s objectively not that bad; Thyme lets him touch her and her hurt paw, and she is still moving, albeit carefully, and she’s even eating and purring when he picks her up, so it simply cannot be that bad, but when she walks it’s clear she’s in pain and Jiang Cheng hates to see it.

And with how his day has been going, he really can’t help himself but to cry as he watches her limp around, because he is honestly in no emotional state to deal with this.

Jiang Cheng decides to check on her during the night a few times and then call the vet first thing in the morning and he does feel a little bit better with that decision, but it still doesn’t help the tears that are still flowing down his cheeks.

He just hopes his headache doesn’t get worse.

~*~*~

His headache of course does get worse, and Thyme doesn’t get magically better over night. He slept like shit, jerking awake at every sound in fear it’s Thyme and that she’s in more pain now, but she mostly slept on his stomach that night.

Her limp is more pronounced in the morning—as is Jiang Cheng’s headache—and so he calls the vet as soon as he can.

They tell him to come in at noon and Jiang Cheng decides to sleep his headache off until then.

He swallows two painkillers and goes back to bed, but when his alarm goes off, his headache turned into a full blown migraine and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do.

He is always nervous when he has to drive with Garlic and Thyme in the car—worried that he’ll have an accident and get them hurt—and he doesn’t trust himself to drive with the steady pounding behind his eyes at all, but he needs to get to the vet to get Thyme some treatment and he doesn’t know what to do.

He’s in too much pain to even think about being ashamed when he bursts out into tears again, and there is only one place he can think of to go.

So he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door.

“Holy shit, what’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang greets him with when he opens the door and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to cry harder.

“I need help,” he cries out and Nie Huaisang is nodding before Jiang Cheng even says anything else.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Thyme is hurt, but I can’t drive like this, but I have to be at the vet soon and I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry about this, but can you drive me?” he gets out between his tears and his heart falls when Nie Huaisang grimaces.

So he doesn’t have time, that’s just Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang yells into his apartment and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

“What are you doing?” he hisses through his tears, his heart already beating faster and this confused state is no help at all with the tears or his headache.

“I have a meeting in half an hour, but da-ge has the day off. He will drive you,” Nie Huaisang resolutely says and Jiang Cheng shakes his head but stops when that only makes it worse.

Nie Huaisang knows that he has the worst crush on Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually want Nie Mingjue to see him like this.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks and his eyes go wide when he sees Jiang Cheng. “What’s wrong?” he asks more frantically. “What do you need?”

“His cat is hurt and he needs a lift to the vet,” Nie Huaisang sums it all up for Jiang Cheng, and Nie Mingjue nods before he finishes.

“Of course,” he agrees and honestly, Jiang Cheng is too relieved to feel much shame at all in that moment.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I can’t drive like this and Thyme is limping and I don’t know why and I just need to get to the vet,” Jiang Cheng rushes out and he only relaxes when Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to his shoulder.

“Breathe, Wanyin. Of course I’ll drive you.”

“Did you call in to work?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng goes cold with horror.

He completely forgot about that.

“Don’t panic!” Nie Huaisang rushes out, clearly able to read Jiang Cheng’s face. “I’ll call Wei Wuxian and he can just pretend you told him this morning and he simply forgot to tell your father. Jiang Fengmian will believe that,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it might work.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says. “You go do that. Wanyin, did you get Thyme into her carrier already?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“We’ll do that first then,” Nie Mingjue decides and gently pushes Jiang Cheng towards his own apartment. “I’ll gather my things, and you try to get her in there, okay? Can you do that?” he softly asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

Thyme is limping and in no state to run away from him. He’ll just be able to pick her up and put her in, no problem at all. He can do that.

And he does, with minimal fuss even, and he’s kind of glad it’s Thyme and not Garlic who needs to go to the vet. He would be bleeding all over if it was Garlic, he knows that from experience.

By the time Nie Mingjue knocks at his door, Jiang Cheng is ready to go with Thyme in her carrier.

“Alright then,” Nie Mingjue says and carefully picks up the carrier, waving Jiang Cheng off when he moves forward to carry her himself. “You’ll need to give me the address to the vet.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng mumbles and then his eyes start to burn again. “I’m really so sorry to bother you,” he chokes out yet again, because he cannot believe that this is his life today and he really doesn’t know how to deal with any of this.

“You’re not a bother, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue reassuringly tells him. “I’m happy to help you.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what to say to that and so he stays silent as he allows Nie Mingjue to lead him towards his car.

“No,” Jiang Cheng rushes out when he sees that. “We can take my car. You don’t have to take yours.”

“Of course we’ll take mine, come on,” Nie Mingjue gives back and doesn’t allow Jiang Cheng to argue about this.

Before he knows it, he’s already in the back of the car, Thyme’s carrier carefully buckled in and Nie Mingjue is driving, following the instructions of the navigation system.

The drive is a silent one, mostly because Jiang Cheng is still in too much pain to hold a decent conversation and Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

“We’re here,” is the first thing he says during the ride and Jiang Cheng looks out of the car window.

They have arrived, but what Jiang Cheng mostly notices is that there’s no free parking space for them.

Nie Mingjue seems to realize that in the same moment.

“Do you have my number?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head in confusion.

“I’ll tell Huaisang to send it to you. I’ll park somewhere else and you’ll just call me when you’re done so I can pick you up again,” he decides and Jiang Cheng never knows how to deal with kindness, but especially not today.

“You really don’t have to,” he chokes out, his eyes dangerously watery again, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Of course I do,” he easily gives back and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but nod.

“Fine,” he agrees and gets out of the car when Nie Mingjue pulls up at the side. “I’ll call you,” Jiang Cheng says as he takes the carrier out of the car as well and Nie Mingjue gives him a thumbs up.

“I bet it’s not that bad, Wanyin. She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Jiang Cheng mutters and then closes the door before he steps into the vet clinic.

He doesn’t have to wait long and everyone is kind enough not to mention the more than obvious tear tracks on his face for which Jiang Cheng is grateful.

He gets a text a few minutes after Nie Mingjue dropped him off; it’s Nie Huaisang forwarding him his brother’s contact details and Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the flutter of his heart as he saves the number in his phone.

This was not how he ever imagined to get this number, but he’s not going to complain about it. Not that he’s ever going to use it beyond this day, either, but before Jiang Cheng can delve too deeply into that spiral, the vet calls him in to tell him the diagnosis.

It’s stupidity. Thyme got diagnosed with stupidity.

She actually has a sprained paw, but since it happened on plain ground in the apartment Jiang Cheng has lived in for more than two years already, it cannot be anything else but stupidity.

The vet doesn’t even do anything besides giving him some pain meds for Thyme that she’s supposed to get once a day.

Jiang Cheng can’t believe this.

He’s out of the clinic before he realizes it, and dialling Nie Mingjue’s number.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng hums.

“We’re done,” he tells him.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue more than two to come and pick Jiang Cheng and Thyme up and he seems to realize that Thyme is not seriously injured because he smiles at Jiang Cheng.

“It’s not so bad?”

“It depends,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown at Thyme. “It’s just a sprained paw, but what’s really worse is that she’s too stupid to walk straight without getting injured,” Jiang Cheng says and his stomach does a funny thing when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

Jiang Cheng settles into the back of the car again, wanting to be close to Thyme who doesn’t seem as stressed out as she normally is, and now that all the worry about her finally falls off him, Jiang Cheng’s migraine comes back with a vengeance.

He groans softly and closes his eyes, and he must have drifted off because the next thing he knows is that they are back at their house.

“You alright?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng jerks with the question, which causes him to let out a painful groan. “Do you have painkillers at home?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, even though he doesn’t think he should take any more today.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng whispers as he climbs out of the car, Thyme’s carrier in one hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“No problem at all,” he promises him and then leads Jiang Cheng to his door.

“Did you eat today?” Nie Mingjue asks as Jiang Cheng fumbles with the key and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

He was too worried to even think about eating, and with his migraine he doesn’t think he’s about to change that now.

“Let me make something light for you. You have to eat at least a little bit,” Nie Mingjue says, and walks into Jiang Cheng’s apartment before he can protest.

Garlic meets them at the door, clearly anxious to have Thyme with him again and Jiang Cheng is quick to get Thyme out of the carrier.

She’s still limping and Jiang Cheng remembers the pain meds the vet gave him. It’s probably time to give that to her.

It’s a liquid painkiller and getting it into Thyme is easier than Jiang Cheng feared it would be and soon enough she’s limping away from him, clearly eager to hide and rest for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches after her and he can’t help the relieved laugh he lets out because besides some stupidity there’s nothing wrong with his cat.

“Hey, she’s alright,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says from behind him and tugs him around with a hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng sobs out. “She’s just stupid,” he mutters and then he leans forward to rest his forehead on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “I cannot believe she was diagnosed with stupidity,” he says again, because really.

She’s a cat, for heaven’s sake. How she can sprain her paw while walking is beyond Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng lets out a relieved giggle and he’s aware that the events of the last few hours are all catching up to him now, but he can’t help it.

And Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind at all, seeing as he’s currently pressing a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he doesn’t dare to move in fear that Nie Mingjue will stop and never do it again.

“You’re exhausted,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering him. “Come eat something and then go to bed. You need some rest.”

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks as he pulls away from Nie Mingjue and he’s not prepared for the tender look on his face.

“And when you’re feeling better, let me take you out for dinner. On a date.”

Jiang Cheng blushes at that—which really only makes his migraine worse—but he nods.

“I would like that,” he admits and Nie Mingjue cups his face in one hand and presses another kiss to his forehead.

“Good. But now food and rest. Clearly you need both,” he decides and Jiang Cheng allows Nie Mingjue to guide him towards the kitchen, were a simple congee is waiting for him.

He does get drowsy after he ate—not even the migraine enough to keep him up anymore—and he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up, Nie Mingjue is gone, and Jiang Cheng would chalk it off to a particularly vivid dream, but when he picks up his phone there’s a message waiting for him.

Barring any more cat emergencies, dinner is still on if you want. Call me when you feel better.

Jiang Cheng immediately dials his number, because he does feel very good. Especially about going to dinner with Nie Mingjue.

Yes, believe it or not, my cat got this very diagnosis today. A sprained paw out of pure stupidity. The only difference is that I didn't have a migraine, but also no Nie Mingjue :(

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[imagineteamfreewill]

A Good Kind of Not Okay

Title: A Good Kind of Not Okay

Pairing: Nanny!Reader x Director!Sam

Word Count: 4,414

Warnings: A little bit of pining

Square Filled: Director!Sam

Summary: Sam is a single dad who also happens to be one of the world’s most famous movie directors. When he struggles to care for his daughter like he wants, he hires the reader to help care for his pride and joy.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2020-2021 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

X

_______________

Sam was running late. Again. Filming was behind schedule for the third time that week, and as the director, he had to stay until everything was finished. Of course, he was part of the reason why the filming was behind schedule. He couldn’t help it. Sam was a perfectionist, and he always had been. That’s what got him hired.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Sam said. He glanced down the street and then turned. “I’m on my way, I should be there in ten minutes.”

“Mr. Winchester, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be there soon.” He ended the call before the center director could chew him out any further. He felt bad enough as it was, he didn’t need more reminders and warnings about being late. He really did try to keep a normal schedule, and he always made arrangements if the filming was scheduled to go late into the night or early in the morning, but there were some things that were out of his control.

The roads were blessedly empty and Sam pulled into the parking lot in just over five minutes. He wasn’t normally one to speed, especially if Elsie was in the car with him, but it was times like these when he was thankful for the extra horsepower. The Charger was the last big thing he’d bought for himself before his daughter was born and he rarely took advantage of its capabilities. Dean constantly nagged him about it.

Climbing out of the car, he grabbed his phone from the cupholder and rushed inside where he knew Elsie was waiting. The day care was completely deserted except for her and the director, who was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, alternating between watching the front doors and the small child perched at the plastic drawing table beside her. Even the lights in the back playrooms and the office were off.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m glad you made it here okay.”

“Daddy!” Elsie bolted from her chair, abandoning her backpack and leaving the crayons to roll off the table and onto the floor. Sam crouched to scoop her up as soon as she was in arm’s reach, and his daughter immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his shoulder. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry I’m late,” he murmured, and he cradled the back of her tiny head in his hand. He still couldn’t get over how tiny she was, even at four years old.

The director stood from her seat, clipboard and radio in hand. She gave him a scolding look. “Mr. Winchester—”

“Please, call me Sam,” he interrupted. “And I know, you can’t keep waiting with her. It won’t happen again.”

Her expression turned withering. “That’s becoming a catchphrase for you. I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester, but Elsie can’t keep coming to Gilded Hearts after the end of this week. We have very strict policies about parent pick-up and you signed a contract agreeing to uphold them. You’ve broken that contract multiple times this week alone, and I can’t count the number of times you’ve broken it otherwise.”

Sam frowned, shifting Elsie in his arms so he could pick up her backpack with one hand. “You’re kicking her out? Please, don’t kick her out just because I messed up a few—”

“It’s been more than a few times,” the director pointed out. “If it had been an emergency, it would be a different story, but we can’t keep staying late with her because you can’t seem to be able to pick her at the time you agreed upon when Elsie first started coming here.”

Lifting her head, Elsie looked up at Sam with big, hazel eyes. She’d perfected his own puppy dog expression solely to use on Sam and her Uncle Dean, and Sam’s heart sunk. The guilt settled in and suddenly all he could think about was how selfish he’d been. He’d been putting work in front of his daughter, something he promised he’d never do, and now he had to face the consequences.

“Okay. You said the end of this week?” Sam asked, sighing. The director nodded and gave him a polite, albeit tight, smile. “Alright. Thanks for staying with her. Have a good night.”

The director waved goodbye to Elsie, then watched in silence as Sam carried her out to the car. It was still sunny out and Elsie squinted, whining a little when he stepped out of the shade provided by the enormous oak trees that guarded the day care’s entrance.

“I know. Your sunglasses are in the car, honey.” Sam dug his keys back out of his pocket and unlocked the backseat, then carefully situated Elsie in her carseat. The tiny pair of Minnie Mouse sunglasses were right where they always were, and once his daughter was buckled in, he handed them to her so she could slip them on. She did so immediately.

“Are you sad, Daddy?” she asked. Elsie reached out a hand, grabbing onto Sam’s coat before he could back out of the doorway and go around to the driver’s side.

“I’m not sad, babygirl. Daddy’s just tired from work. Are you hungry? You ready to go home and eat?”

After a moment, Elsie nodded and let go of his coat. Sam shut the door and let out a long sigh as he went around the back of the car. His head was pounding and he was exhausted from shooting in the heat all day, but getting food in his little girl’s stomach and making sure that she got everything else she needed before bedtime had to be his priority right now. Then he would have to figure out where she was going to spend her days after the week was over. She couldn’t exactly come to work with him on an R-rated movie set. The impending migraine would have to wait.

_______________

“What’s your name?” the little girl asked, and you raised your eyebrows at her for a brief moment, then crouched down to her level.

“I’m Y/N. What’s yours?”

She held onto the door handle with both hands, swinging her weight on it as she stared at you. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name.”

“That’s very smart,” you replied, smiling. “Is your daddy home?”

“Who’s asking?”

A laugh almost slipped out at the cliché response, but you carefully held it back. You started to answer when a very tall, very handsome man in a suit stepped up behind the little girl in the tutu.

Nodding, you stood and held out your hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N, from the nanny agency. Are you Mr. Winchester?”

The man smiled politely and shook your hand before reaching down to scoop up Elsie. He held her on one hip and stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. He didn’t even seem to be bothered that his shirt and jacket were now rumpled from being squashed by the little girl and her very fluffy tutu, nor did he seem phased when she reached out to hold onto the tie around his neck.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Please, call me Sam. I’m glad you could come on such short notice.”

“It’s not a problem,” you replied. You glanced around the entryway of Sam’s enormous house, a little surprised. It was grand, but compared to some of the others in the neighborhood, this house seemed more… lived in. Turning around, you smiled politely. “Is there anything you wanted to ask me that wasn’t in my file? I know that they already sent over my resume, references, and bio, but there’s always something that people want to know.”

Sam gave you a once-over before closing the door. “You’re a live-in nanny, right?” he asked. You nodded. “I don’t have any questions, but how about you check out the guest room before you decide if you want to stay? The last nanny we tried had some issues with it.”

“Issues?” you repeated, suddenly a bit more hesitant, and Sam gestured for you to follow him up the stairs. You did, glad that you’d left your suitcase in the car. The staircase was immense and it would’ve been a pain to drag it up all the way.

As you walked, Elsie chattered to Sam, who glanced at her and replied when necessary. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear that he cared deeply for her. Every nod, every thoughtful reply, every second of eye contact he offered her reassured you that this would be a good family to work with for your next position. It would certainly be better than your last one, that was for sure.

When you finally arrived at the opposite end of the hallway, Sam pushed open a door and gestured for you to enter first. You did, taking a look around. The “guest room” was more like a deluxe suite and you had to remind yourself not to let your mouth hang open as you took it all in. It made you wonder if there was some sort of housekeeper or maid that cleaned Sam’s house, because there was no way he kept the room as beautiful as it was, worked, and took care of his gorgeous little girl.

“It’s got an attached bathroom with a shower and a tub, and you’ll have your own private balcony. It overlooks the backyard and the pool, which you’re welcome to use at any time. There’s a walk-in closet through that door,” Sam pointed to a closed door off to the right of the bathroom, “And there’s an office across the hall you can use if you want. There’s a printer and internet hookups in case you’re having problems with the WiFi. You shouldn’t, but it never hurts to be prepared. Of course, if you don’t like the furniture I’ve got in here we can move it and you can put your own things in. I hired a decorator for the whole house when I first moved in and I haven’t done anything with the room since then.

You nodded, a bit overwhelmed. “Right. Can I ask what the issue was? That the last nanny had?”

“She didn’t like the view from the balcony, apparently, and she complained that she was too close to Elsie’s room.” You frowned and Sam shrugged. The distaste was clear in his voice as he continued, “She said she preferred to have a room near the other adults in the household instead of the child that she cares for. My room is on the other side of the stairs we came up.”

Elsie started to wiggle in his arms and he set her down, not looking away from you. She instantly ran over to the bed and climbed on top to sprawl out over the plush white comforter.

“The room is great, Sam,” you replied, nodding. “It’s amazing, actually.” You glanced back at Elsie and sat on the edge of the mattress. “How’s the bed? Comfy?”

Elsie giggled and nodded before rolling onto her stomach to look at Sam. “Is this my new nanny?”

“I think so,” Sam replied. He looked over at you and you nodded. “Looks like it, Elsie girl! You can show her your room and your playroom in a few minutes, okay? First we gotta do the grown-up stuff.”

Grinning, the little girl scrambled off the bed to run off to another part of the house. She shouted a quick “Okay!” on her way out of the room.

“So, you think you’d be okay being her nanny? Obviously I’ll let you look over the contract and you can take it to a lawyer if you need—”

“That’s not really necessary,” you told him, holding up your hand to stop Sam from going any further. “I’ll look it over downstairs if you wouldn’t mind getting me something to drink while I read.”

“Water okay?”

You nodded, and you and Sam headed downstairs where the contract was waiting.

_______________

Working for Sam was one of the best things that had ever happened to you. Not only was Elsie adorable and one of the smartest, funniest kids you’d ever nannied, but her dad was amazing, too. He never failed to make you laugh and though he was constantly overworking himself during the day, you admired the way that his focus was entirely on Elsie and his homelife as soon as he parked in the garage. Even if he finished work at three in the morning, he came looking for his daughter the minute he was home. If she was awake, she was always more than happy to cuddle up and watch a movie, go swimming in their pool, or just show him the pictures she’d worked on for him during the day. Then, as soon as the little princess was in bed, Sam’s attention turned to you. That was one of the best parts of your job, though it was becoming a problem. No matter what Sam did and despite your best efforts, your crush kept growing. He was just too great, and you worried that someday you’d be heartbroken when he brought home some gorgeous movie star. Then you’d have to quit, and not only would you be out of a job, but the best two people in your life would immediately become a part of your past. That was the last thing you wanted.

It wasn’t until you’d been the nanny for eight months that Sam asked you to bring Elsie to set. The request caught you off guard—usually he avoided involving Elsie in anything that had to do with his work because of the nature of his films—but you knew that he was a smart guy, so you loaded up the almost-five-year-old into your car and drove to the address he’d texted.

“Daddy!” Elsie squealed. Sam’s head turned towards you and he smiled wide when he saw Elsie dragging you by the hand across the packed dirt of the filming site. She had insisted on wearing her princess dress, and the sight of her in the poofy, sparkly dress and Minnie Mouse sunglasses was enough to make anyone laugh. You were thankful you’d put your own sunglasses on before you’d climbed out of the car, otherwise the sun’s glare would have been too bright for you to even see Sam. He had his glasses on as well, and you briefly wondered if he’d take them off at some point so you could see his eyes in the sunlight.

“Hi, Bug!” As soon as she was within his reach, Sam picked her up and swung her up onto his shoulders. The move was almost one fluid motion and though he did it all the time, you still marveled and Elsie still giggled.

The man Sam had been talking to—you vaguely recognized his face from a magazine in the grocery store checkout—was dressed in an elaborate suit of leather armor. He glanced over at you as you approached, but he quickly turned his attention back to Sam.

“So what are you going to do about her?” the man asked.

Sam glanced at him before looking up at Elsie, smiling wide. “We’ll have a talk. Don’t worry about it, Erick.”

Ah, so he’s the action hero, you thought, and you looked the actor up and down. He looks shorter in person.

Erick turned and caught you staring at him, and his lip curled up in disgust. “Who are you?”

“She’s my best friend!” Elsie replied before anyone else could. You smiled on instinct.

“Right...” Erick drawled. He looked up at Elsie and the disgusted look on his face didn’t fade even as he walked away to a u-shaped cluster of chairs and makeup vanities. He was immediately swarmed by women fussing over his hair, makeup, and costume.

Once he was fair enough away, you turned towards Sam with raised eyebrows. “So. This is the movie business,” you retorted.

He laughed and adjusted his grip on Elsie’s little legs. “Something like it, yeah. Don’t worry about him, he’s always like that. It’s not one of his redeeming features, but he was the favorite for this role. Do you guys want a tour of the set?”

Elsie cheered and wiggled a little on Sam’s shoulders, and he tightened his grip accordingly. You nodded in agreement.

“A tour would be great, Sam, but aren’t you on your lunch break?”

Sam shrugged and started walking. You followed close behind as he began to explain the set in terms that Elsie could understand. She was smart, and she loved big words, but she was still just a kid. After a while, he managed to commandeer a golf cart for the three of you, and you ended up riding around not only just the set, but in between all the trailers and the service roads that surrounded the site. You had to admit that the area was beautiful, even if it was hot and dusty.

Eventually, you, Sam, and Elsie ended up outside his trailer. It was smaller than the actors’, but he explained as you followed him up the steps that he really didn’t use it much, and he only had one for this part of production because they were filming in a more remote location than usual. Food was waiting for you on the small dining table inside, and all three of you breathed a sigh of relief at the air conditioning.

“Can I come to set tomorrow?” Elsie asked as she climbed up onto the couch.

Sam handed her the hot dog from the container marked with her name and smiled a little. “Not tomorrow, Ells. Maybe another day,” he said. He picked up the two remaining containers and held out the one with your name scrawled across the top.

After murmuring your thanks, you settled down on the opposite side of Elsie from him and opened the styrofoam box. Your favorite sandwich was inside and you smiled over at Sam, a little bit surprised that he’d remembered. He didn’t make or order you food often, since you normally ate with Elsie during the day and on your own at night so that Elsie’s attention wasn’t divided between the two of you.

“You mentioned that it was your favorite that one time we went to the boardwalk,” Sam said, noticing your surprise. “It just kinda stuck in my brain, and I saw it on the menu when I was ordering our lunches before you got here.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you replied, honestly shocked. No one had ever remembered your usual order. “Thank you.”

Sam nodded in reply and the three of you dug into your meals in relative silence. Elsie finished first, like usual, and she was starting to dig through the things in Sam’s trailer when there was a knock at the door.

Elated, the little girl ran over and tugged it open, the force of which pushed her down to sit on the top step of the entry. “Hi!” she cried, and you sat up on the couch to see who she was talking to.

“Hi!” a woman chuckled. After a second, Elsie popped back up and led the short-haired woman into the trailer by the hand. “Is this your daughter, Sam?”

“No, this is a monster!” Sam grabbed Elsie around the waist and pulled her into his lap, growling playfully. Elsie squealed and squirmed as he tickled her, and the woman laughed. You smiled too, but you reached over to move Sam’s half-eaten meal out of the way. You’d seen this play out too many times to think that he and Elsie would be able to avoid knocking it onto the rug.

Elsie finally freed herself from Sam’s grasp and scrambled into yours. You wrapped them around her, hugging her tightly, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Sam caught your eye and grinned wide before looking back at the woman still standing in his trailer.

“What’s going on, Jody? Are we having a wardrobe problem again?” he asked, getting to his feet.

She shook her head. “No, but I heard a certain someone in here really likes princesses, and I thought I could give her a little tour of the wardrobe trailer,” Jody replied with a slow smile.

“Right, the wardrobe trailer with all the princess dresses…” Sam looked back at Elsie, who was watching him and Jody with wide eyes. She’d cued in on the key words in their conversation and was practically vibrating with excitement in your arms. “What do you say, Elsie? Would you like to go with Miss Jody to see the princess dresses for daddy’s movie?”

Elsie nodded vigorously and you let her down off your lap. She grabbed Jody’s outstretched hand with a wide smile and waved at Sam as she was led down the steps that led out of his trailer. The door slammed behind her and Jody, and after a second, you stood and gathered up two of the discarded lunch containers. 

Sam stared at you as you carried them over to the trash, and finally you looked up at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring at me, Sam. There’s not something on the back of my pants, right? Or shirt?” You twisted, trying to get a look at your back just in case, and your face grew hot at the idea that you’d been walking around with Sam-freaking-Winchester, the super hot, award-winning director, all the while looking like a slob.

“No, no. I just…” Sam sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He watched through the window as some of the crew members walked by outside, then dropped his hand back down and looked back at you. “We need to talk about something.”

Oh no.

“Sure, is everything okay?”

Sam sat back down on the couch and gestured for you to return to your own seat. You did, and you purposefully folded your hands in your lap so that you wouldn’t fidget and give away how nervous you felt. Your stomach was twisted up in knots.

“Yes. I mean, no, but… It’s a good kind of not okay.”

“Oh…Okay.”

“That didn’t make sense,” Sam said after a second.

“No, it didn’t,” you agreed, smiling a little. “Is this about Elsie? Is there something different you maybe want me to do with her? Or do you think it’s time for her to go back to a daycare, or even a preschool? She’s almost in Kindergarten anyway. I really don’t mind just watching her in the mornings and afternoons, if that’s what you need.”

“Do you not want to work with Elsie anymore?” His eyebrows furrowed and you quickly backtracked. “Because if you don’t—”

“No! No, I love Elsie. She’s an amazing kid, Sam. I just… I’m trying to figure out what you mean. A good kind of not okay?”

Sam sighed and nodded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees for a few moments as he thought, then leaned back and relaxed against the couch cushions. You watched in silence, and with each passing second, the feeling that you might puke just from the suspense of the whole thing grew.

“I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot,” Sam finally said.

“I like you and Elsie too, Sam, but what’s that got to do with this?”

“No.” He shook his head, reaching over to put one large hand over your folded ones. You froze, absolutely stunned. Sam had never touched you except for handshakes, or maybe in passing when he took Elsie from you.

“Y/N, I really like you. I like you in the non-professional sense.”

Oh.

“I like you in the romantic sense,” Sam continued. “And I’d really like to see you romantically, but you’re my employee. I don’t want to cross any boundaries, and the only reason I’m telling you this is because I think that you might want the same thing.”

You swallowed, looking down. Slowly, you relaxed your grip on your hands and let him take one of them in his. After a second, his thumb began to rub over your skin and the feeling was hypnotizing. “I do. Want the same,” you added. “I’ve liked you a long time, Sam.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured, Y/N.”

Looking up at him, you shook your head and squeezed his hand. “I don’t. I don’t feel pressured, Sam. I really do like you, and I was honestly worried I’d have to quit if you ever brought home some famous movie star or something. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

Sam smiled wide, his eyes lighting up. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that?” You shook your head. “A really long time, Y/N. Almost the whole time you’ve been Elsie’s nanny,” he admitted, and you grinned back at him.

Any nerves you’d had were completely gone now. Sam’s touch—even though it was just his thumb on the back of your hand—was more soothing than you could’ve ever imagined, and though the butterflies in your stomach were alive and well, you’d hoped for a while that you and Sam would have this conversation.

“Really?”

He nodded and brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it. The butterflies leaped for joy.

“That’s a long time. I didn’t even catch on,” you told him.

“I had to be careful. And to be honest, the only reason I suspected you liked me back is because Elsie started talking about how you and I act like one of her friend’s parents whenever we’re together. She started asking questions and it made me think.”

You laughed. “That little girl has got a brain bigger than yours. She’s gonna grow up amazing.”

Sam hadn’t stopped grinning at you and you felt your face grow warm under all the attention. If this was an old black and white movie, you would’ve swooned by now, but now his smile was beginning to fade. You sensed that the other shoe was about to drop and your own smile wilted.

“I’ve got you to thank for a lot of that,” Sam said, his voice softer. “We can’t be together if you're my employee, Y/N.”

“We’ll figure it out,” you murmured. After a second, you gave him a sly smile. “You and Elsie just need to put your big brains together.”

_______________

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[lilfellasblog]

Tolerable

Summary: Virgil's been accepted by Thomas and the famILY, even after they found out his secret. But will this be too much for them to handle? Or: Virgil has endometriosis, thinks he has to hide it, and that works out as well for him as you think it will.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Past bullying and harassment mentioned, endometriosis, menstruation, this is a sick!fic, painful cramps, unsympathetic dark sides.

Word Count: 2351

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil groaned and curled into himself. Not for the first time, he cursed the Mindscape’s sick sense of humor for not only making him the only trans Side, but also for giving him the period from hell. After researching his symptoms and checking in the Subconscious (he tried not to think about how he could see everything in there), he had discovered he had endometriosis. It certainly explained what he’d been experiencing. He didn’t even want to think about the number of tampons and pads he burned through. Alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen could only take the edge off so much. The websites he visited suggested some, ahem, all-natural pain remedies, but Virgil was the opposite of in the mood when he was on his period. He felt tired and dizzy and light-headed and nauseous, and he always seemed to get migraines at the same time of his period because apparently God hated him personally.

He ground a fist into his lower abdomen during a particularly painful cramp that felt like his internal organs were ripping each other in half, and kept it there until the pain subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure why, but pressing his knuckles into the spot where he felt the most pain seemed to help lessen the severity of that particular wave.

Virgil sighed, trying to figure out if he wanted to ask the others for help. He was exhausted, having dealt with this for a day already on his own. They’d all accepted him, including Thomas (thank fuck), but he didn’t know if they wanted to deal with everything that came with him being a trans guy. Yet, now that they knew, even though he’s dealt with this on his own before, being alone feels even harder.

What if they’re grossed out? They weren’t grossed out by me being trans, they seemed sad whenever I had even asked, but this is… yeah. I don’t know, I don’t want to push it. Just as he finished that thought, an excruciating pain ripped through him. He bit his knuckle and held his breath to keep from crying out.

“Virgil? You okay in there buddy? You missed breakfast, so I brought some up if you want any,” Patton offered through the door.

Virgil had to breathe through his nose to battle his nausea at the thought of breakfast food. “Thanks Pat. I’m good, just not feeling too well. I’ll be fine in a bit.” It’ll be manageable in a few days.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry to hear that! Is there anything I can do? Would soup help?”

Actually… “Yeah, I think I might be able to handle soup.”

“One bowl of soup, coming right up!”

“Thanks Pat.”

“Anytime!”

Despite his pain, Virgil smiled fondly. He’s too good for me. Before, if he’d shown any indication that he was on his period, the consequences would be more pain, some kind of humiliation, and a nightmare sequence courtesy of Remus that always lasted so long he’d bleed over.

Virgil rode out the waves of pain, unable to concentrate enough to follow Buzzfeed Unsolved, until Patton knocked on his door again.

“Virge? I have your soup,” Patton called quietly.

“Alri-” Virgil’s voice cut off as he was bowled over by a powerful tearing sensation that left him seeing stars.

“Virgil? You okay in there? Are you hurt?” Patton called, much more loudly this time.

Shitshitshit, I can’t let him see me, he’ll know I’m in pain and he’ll ask why and then I’ll have to tell him.

“I’m worried you’re hurt or unconscious, can you answer me?”

Virgil took a few deep breaths. “I’m here,” he croaked out.

“Oh honey, you sound like you’re in so much pain! Are you okay?!”

Since he wasn’t holding his breath, a pained keen left him against his will.

“I’m coming in.”

Fuck.

Virgil tried to uncurl his body, but he couldn’t find the willpower to counter the pain. As soon as Patton caught sight of him, he quickly set the bowl of soup (with crackers and cheese, Virgil noticed) on the nightstand and rushed over.

“It’s okay, I’m here. What’s wrong? You look and sound like you’re in so much pain!”

The worst of it passed, and Virgil managed to relax his body a bit. “I’m okay, I’m… kind of used to it.”

Patton’s expression darkened. “Did they hurt you again?” he asked, voice nearly a growl.

“No, nothing like that!” Virgil quickly promised. Patton sagged in relief.

“Thank goodness.” Patton frowned. “This has happened before? Do you have a stomach bug?”

Virgil thought about lying for a brief moment, but was too scared of accidentally summoning Janus to risk it. “No…”

He cursed when Patton’s puppy dog eyes came in full-force. “Is it something bad?”

Just as Virgil was about to hedge around the answer, he felt a telltale dampness. “Uh, nothing dangerous for us since we’re Sides, but I do need to go to the bathroom.”

Patton immediately scooted aside. “Okay! I’ll be here when you get back,” he reassured.

Shit. “Thanks.”

Virgil uncurled himself from his position on the bed, then carefully made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up since he had bled over a bit, changed out his pad and tampon. Just as he was about to flush away the bloody water and toilet paper, there was urgent knocking at the door.

“Virgil, are you okay?!”

Virgil was a little annoyed, but knew to rein himself in. “Yeah Pat, I’m good, just about to wash my hands.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? There’s blood on the bed.”

OH FUCK.

“Um, I’ll be out a in a minute.”

Think think think think THINK!! Okay, what can I tell him? I could just fudge the truth a little bit, but that might be too close to a lie. I could just tell him I don’t want to tell him, but he’d be so sad that I don’t trust him and he deserves better than that. Shiiiiiiiiiiit.

Realizing he’d been staring into space, he dried his hands, then went out to face the music.

Patton was studying the comforter that had gotten stained, and looked up and smiled at Virgil as he emerged. “Hey Virge, I was just gonna wash this for you, is that okay?”

Virgil could feel another wave coming on. “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Let me lie down so I don’t double over in front of you.

Patton waved him off. “Nonsense, you’re sick and I wanna help!”

SHIT. “Okay, I can help get it off.”

“Sure!”

Virgil frantically tugged at the comforter, while Patton calmly gathered it up in his arms. As soon as the comforter was off the bed, Virgil laid down and curled up, hopefully in a way that made it look like he was just lying down.

“Virgil, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer!”

Virgil assessed Patton. Patton was looking nervous himself, biting his lip and eyes averting themselves.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Patton took a deep breath. “Well, I know you’re in a lot of pain, you’re not feeling well, you said it’s happened before, and there’s blood that you don’t seem too worried about.” He fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to ask. “Is there anything I can do to help with… this?”

Virgil sighed. Of course he’d figure it out. “Honestly, the soup is more than what I usually get-”

“What?!” Patton cried.

Oops.

“Um, usually I just kinda deal with it on my own?”

Virgil kicked himself for the devastated look on Patton’s face. “Oh Virge…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind dealing with it by myself!”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to! And you don’t have to anymore!” Patton declared. “You’re in so much pain, is that normal? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Normal for me, yeah, and I don’t think so.”

“Normal for you? Why just you, are you in more pain than other people who get periods?”

Way to put it on the nose Patton. “I-”

“What’s this regarding?” Logan asked as he walked in.

Patton didn’t close the door, shit!! “Nothing!”

“Patton seemed to be implying that you’re in a great deal of pain-”

“WHO DARES HARM YOU?!” Roman thundered, sword already drawn.

GODAMMIT. “NO ONE. Okay, Jesus Christ. Look, I’m fine, I’ve just got the period from hell. I’m sorry you guys found out, I didn’t mean to, I’m fine dealing with this on my own, I know it’s weird and-” Virgil cut himself off at the sorrowful looks he was getting. He sighed. These guys aren’t the Dark Sides, they probably don’t think it’s weird and gross and something I’m doing to them on purpose. “Sorry. Just, I have this thing that makes this harder, I can’t think of the name because I can’t think during this, and I’m fine. I’m just miserable for a week and then it’s manageable. This is better treatment than I usually get, and now I can at least get food. Just ignore me.” Virgil cursed God as another devastating cramp chose that specific moment to be an asshole. He held his breath, but couldn’t stop from curling in on himself. Concerned Patton noises could be heard, and Logan was trying to encourage Virgil to breathe. Roman just stood there, feeling helpless.

Once it passed, Virgil unclenched and took a few breaths. “Sorry,” he panted.

“Please do not apologize. Average menstrual cramps-” Virgil winced. “-have been shown to be at a similar pain level as a heart attack, and it sounds like you experience more severe cramping. If you wish to be left alone, then we will respect that,” Logan stated, agreements coming from each of the other Sides. “But there is still the concern of unusual pain. Do you require pain medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it helps me not lose my mind, but it can only do so much. I’m on the max dose for ibuprofen and tylenol right now, and I’m alternating them.”

Logan frowned. “This is your pain level even with medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it’s this thing that starts with an “e”… shit, what is it…”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Endometriosis?”

“Yeah!” Virgil squinted. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’m Thomas’ center of knowledge. Gracious, Virgil…” Logan trailed off. “Has a TENS unit ever proven helpful?”

“A what?”

Logan straightened up. “A TENS unit administers small electrical pulses to pain points or trigger points via electrodes placed on the skin. Research, as well as personal anecdotes, have shown them to be effective in combating menstrual pain. Would you like me to conjure one for you?”

Whatever, worst thing that might happen is it could hurt worse for a few seconds. “Sure, why not.”

Logan closed his eyes, and a few seconds later a rectangular device with a bunch of wires coming out of it appeared. “Would you like me to apply the electrodes, or would you like to?”

The thought of someone touching his bare skin, especially where he was in so much pain, still scared him, even though he knew these weren’t the Dark Sides. “I can put it on.”

No one said anything as Virgil rolled over to his side and placed the electrodes where Logan instructed. He turned back over, blushing slightly and feeling weird. He could feel another bad one coming on, and he hoped that this would work. Logan handed Virgil the unit.

“There are a few levels of electricity. Since this is your first time, it’s recommended you start at 1 and see if you need to increase from there.”

Before the next bastard cramp could come to do its damage, Virgil just nodded and turned on the device, bracing himself for electrocution pain. Instead, the cramps was… not as bad? It still hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t as godawful as it could be. He cranked it up a few more dials, and the pain dimmed to a level he couldn’t remember ever feeling.

His eyes widened as he uncurled and sat up, jaw slack. The pain was still there, and he could still tell that his muscles were freaking the fuck out, but the pain was down so much he could almost ignore it.

So Logan just made my life about a thousand times better. How do I let him know?

“What kind of bullshit wizard magic is this?” Nice, REAL kind of you to say after Logan literally changed your life.

Logan just did his proud little smirk of his and drew his shoulders back. “No magic involved, merely science, and,” he adjusted one side of his glasses. “logic.”

Virgil sighed, still light-headed and dizzy, but the amount of relief that flooded his body without the pain was helping him feel so much better.

Logan frowned. “If you’ll excuse me, Thomas requires my help with a business e-mail.”

Virgil looked out through Thomas’ eyes and Sanders what the HELL. “Yeah, you’d better go deal with that.”

Patton waved his hand over the bowl of soup to warm it. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Virgil fidgeted. “Not to be a stereotype, but I’m currently willing to commit homicide for chocolate.”

In the next moment, Virgil found his lap full of his favorite dark chocolate-sea salt-almond bars.

“I should probably go too, make sure Thomathy gets the tone of the e-mail right,” Patton said regretfully.

Virgil waved him off. “No worries, go do your thing.”

“I’ll keep our brave knight company!” Roman declared.

Patton said goodbye and sank out. Roman and Virgil stared at each other.

Roman broke first. “Soooo, friendo…”

Virgil sighed, putting Roman out of his misery. “I don’t usually feel like being a people, but this TENS unit thing is really helping. I’d be down to play some video games after lunch.”

“Sounds wonderful! I’ll get the game set up!” Roman sank out with his usual flair.

Virgil snorted and shook his head. Thank god for TENS units.

He flushed as he thought to himself, Thank god for famILY.

[honey-dewey]

Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU 

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren’t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. “I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”  

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU 

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

[beeexx]

A little Tarlos moment fron 2x09

Read on ao3

TK’s headache has moved further down from his forehead, to settle like a blanket of pain wrapped over his eyes instead. It makes sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair all the more worse, the bright light doing nothing other than adding to his growing discomfort and slight nausea. He is tapping his leg, the sound bouncing off the quiet sleepy room, and he thinks that the only reason Marjan hasn’t whacked him to make it stop is because she’s still pitying him over his brief spell in a room similar to the one Judd is in for a concussion that still hasn’t completely gone away. He moves his head between his legs, closes his eyes to try and drown out some of the blinding lights and breathes through his nose. 

He keeps bouncing his leg though.

TK hates hospitals. He has many reasons for disliking them but he’s never had to spend a night on the edge of his seat, worried sick for people he cares about before, not in this capacity at least and it’s making him feel sick.

The worst thoughts rush through to the surface unbidden. What if he never gets to see either one of them again, hear them laugh, joke around with Judd, dinner at their place every other Sunday. What if Judd doesn’t make it? What if Grace dies? What if -

“Hi, you okay?” It’s Carlos of course, back from his coffee run, who gently places a hand on his shoulder. TK tenses for a moment, caught off guard and suddenly ready to bolt right out of his seat. He can’t fully tamper down his reaction and Carlos notices of course. TK thinks he’s probably frowning and it doesn’t take long for Carlos to start to shuffle around until he’s sitting on the ground in front of TK, coffee cup left forgotten on the chair. TK opens his mouth-

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, it’s very obvious that you aren’t.” Carlos chastises making TK look up from the ground he’s been staring holes at. His lip twitches though and he nods.

“Yeah, I won’t.” He promises and it makes Carlos’ worry lines less prominent for a moment. His hair is still a little sleep tussled, a few strands of curls at the back Carlos spends ages on each morning to lie flat are now loose and he looks tired, he is probably as tired as TK feels. 

It’s been just a few days since the kidnapping and TK’s gotten used to having a particularly sort of nasty headache as his daily companion since then, ruining both his days and nights with spells of pain that won’t go away. Well, it’s probably ruined Carlos’ nights too, judging by the growing circles underneath his eyes, and TK’s constant tossing and turning every time they’re in bed. It’s been a few days of bad sleep and lounging around the house with Carlos worrying. It makes TK feel really bad, he hates it when Carlos worries about him. 

Both he and Carlos had however gotten their best night’s sleep in days when the call came through, waking them both and sending TK into a near panic attack when he heard what had happened. He’s strung so ridiculously tight he’s scared he’s going to snap in half and he goes back to bouncing his leg, trying to distract from his discomfort, averting his eyes.

“Hey, no shutting me out.” Carlos gently cups his chin and forces him to meet his eyes, thumb stroking up and down in comforting motions, eyes kind and understanding. TK sighs but he nods.

“Sorry.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, trying to get the lingering thickness away. He looks away for a moment, sees Mateo is asleep with his head resting on Paul’s shoulder while Paul is reading, frowning slightly as his eyes move across the text, flipping pages now and then. Marjan left with Tommy a while back to go do something TK isn’t sure of exactly and he hasn’t seen his dad for a while either. They are all somewhere near of course, lurking, in case something changes.

“I’m scared.” TK keeps his voice down though, just in case. Carlos nods and moves his hands to cover TK’s thighs, pressing gently down on his right leg to stop the movement. It’s an involuntary reaction on TK’s end that he stops, the effect of Carlos’ touch on him, anchoring, calming him down almost immediately. Carlos gently squeezes his knee.

“I know baby, I am too. But the doctors are optimistic and we have to believe them.”

“They are cautiously optimistic and I don’t know what that means in doctor lingo but cautiously sounds like it’s not something to celebrate yet.” He mutters. 

“Maybe not, but it’s not cause for sitting here looking close to fainting either. I don’t think Judd would like it if you ended up in a hospital bed yet again after getting out of one so soon.”

“I would do it if it would make him wake up and bust my balls.” 

Carlos' mouth twitches.

“He’s going to wake up.” Carlos says with such conviction TK believes him.

“But what about Grace?” He whispers, dread filling his stomach. Grace with her kind eyes, easy smiles, never ending patience and generous support TK’s not realised he’s cherished this much until she’s suddenly been hurt, with the outlook not seeming good. He is scared, terrified even that she might not make it. He doesn’t know what it would do to Judd if that was to happen. Carlos grows serious and his eyes travel to the room she is in, sadness passing over his features. With Michelle gone a lot Carlos and Grace had formed an easy friendship to fill up that empty space, and so it wasn’t totally unusual that when TK came home after shifts to find Grace and Carlos out on the patio together, drinking lemonade and chatting away, smiles wide and whatever task they had said they would do, long forgotten. It’s not just TK it pains to see Judd and Grace hurt, it pains Carlos just as much and TK immediately reaches forward, cupping Carlos’ cheek and leaning his forehead on his, offering his comfort up like it’s second nature. They both exhale, breathing through it together. 

“It’s going to be okay, it has to.” Carlos says quietly and gives himself over to the worry for a moment before he pulls himself together, pushing the worry down. TK knows compartmentalising like Carlos can do is something that isn’t always the healtihest of coping mechanisms. Right now though, TK isn’t going to say anything, god knows he has a terrible track record of bad ways to deal with things, and he wishes at this moment that he could do it too, push it down and focus on something else. 

“The doctors say Judd is going to wake up but it will be a few hours until then, so we’re going to have to believe that everything is going to be okay. In the meantime why don’t we go home and shower and change clothes.” He suggests.

“Not to sleep?”

“I’m not aiming that high today, I don’t think either of us will be able to do that. But you don’t look too good right now and it’s worrying me a little, so instead of checking you into this hospital myself I suggest we go back to mine and recharge for a moment and come back with food for everyone. I’m sure they’ll all need it.”

It’s a distraction, probably as much for Carlos as it is for TK, but it’s a distraction born out of kindness and a big heart, the need to do something other than sit here and worry sick. Carlos, TK has learnt during this year, is the kind of person that needs to do something, he’ll feel absolutely useless sitting still. His brain works best when he’s doing things while TK tends to be the other way around, shutting down, unable to do anything other than freezing, standing still in his growing anxiety, until everything boils over and the urge to either get high or do something almost as equally stupid gets too much and he can’t stop it, sending him down bad paths. 

So he takes the opportunity and nods. Carlos gets to his feet and holds his hand out for him. TK takes it and gently and carefully Carlos pulls him to his feet and wraps an arm around him immediately. For a moment TK snuggles close, nosing at Carlos’ neck before he moves his head away, focusing on walking instead.

“How’s your head?”

“Sore.” He admits out loud and Carlos frowns. “It’s feeling more like a migrain though so maybe it’s just stress?”

“Maybe, do you want an ice pack?” TK thinks of saying no but he isn’t looking forward to getting into the car with the raging monster banging against his eyelids so he nods. Carlos gently kisses his forehead, squeezes his hand before he walks away, leaving TK alone in the mostly deserted hallway, with his thoughts again. 

Being a firefighter has made TK somewhat immune to certain high risk situations, gruesome injuries, fright so visceral people become unpredictable, or shock so silent it feels it lasts for days unable to break free of, and death too, to some extent at least. His dad’s cancer, which had been a suffocating presence, expanding each day inside of TK’s ribcage, making it impossible to focus on anything other than it, giving him little room to exist outside of the anxiety and constant worry. Tim more recently, which had been quick and taking the breath out of him, slamming straight into TK like a block of concrete, catching him unaware. 

His own overdose is a reminder that it takes different shapes.

And then this. Relentless, big, sudden. Impossible to escape. Scary.

They all wear their worry on their faces and clinging desperately to hope that feels like it’s dimming with each moment he stands here. 

He twists the string of Carlos’ APD hoodie, the first thing he had gotten his hands on when they were rushing to get here in the middle of the night. It was a few hours ago now and there hasn’t been an update for a while now, other than that they can only wait which anyone knowing him should be aware he’s terrible at. 

Carlos comes back shortly after, holding the promised ice pack, TK looks behind him at a nurse with red cheeks and a bright smile as she watches them. 

“Carlos Reyes did you flirt with a nurse to get me this?” But he accepts it gratefully and presses it to his face, exhaling in relief at the cold seeping onto his clammy skin. 

“I charmed her more likely, by talking about my very cute but bratty boyfriend.”

“Yeah I’ve changed my mind, I don’t care how you got it, I’m just happy that you did.” Carlos snorts and ruffles his hair. 

They drive back and Carlos helps TK up the stairs before he disposes of him gently onto the bed. When he goes to leave, TK tugs him back, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Where are you going?” He sounds small, he feels small right now.

“Just to get some water, I’ll be right back -” But TK shakes his head, moves the pack of ice away and pulls harder on Carlos’ hand until he gets the hint and climbs into the bed. TK pulls him close, arms wounding around his neck and tucks his face into Carlos’ neck. Carlos' hands come to rest on his waist, big and strong, secure around TK. He feels the heath of them through the shirt he is wearing. He can feel Carlos’ heartbeat against his ribcage too, riverbating through him.

Still here. Still alive. 

TK is used to danger. 

But he isn’t used to this kind of danger, when it feels deeply personal, like an attack. 

And it’s all so sudden, after Carlos’s suspension that has luckily been lifted but had given him enough stress and worry making TK wish he could march into Carlos’ precinct and yell at his boss that one of their best officers deserved better. It comes too soon after he was taken hostage and hurt, the wound hasn’t even begun to heal and it’s been roughly torn open again making TK feel so goddamn unsteady, the fear he’s suddenly been slammed with so tangible as it presses down on him from all sides. He feels he’s been edging closer and closer to a panic attack all night and the only thing that hasn’t sent him completely over the edge is having Carlos near. 

But he’s also so goddamn scared suddenly. He’s suddenly terrified of losing Carlos. A car accident, those happen so often and maybe TK’s been naive but this has never felt like such a palpable threat to him before, until now. Until Judd and until Grace. 

“Talk to me?” Carlos whispers, forcing TK out of his thoughts for a moment and TK hugs him closer, biting down the tears that have come unwillingly. 

“You can never leave me.” The words come pouring out of him and his voice breaks, unable to be kept steady. He bites down hard on his lip but an audibly sniff escapes and when Carlos tries to move his head away TK hugs him tighter, not wanting any space left between them.

Carlos is quiet for a moment, but no longer than that. He takes his hands away from TK’s waist and wraps them gently around TK’s wrists to gently tug them away from his neck so he can look at him. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks and takes TK’s hands in his, holding them delicately, stroking his thumbs soothingly across TK’s skin. TK angles them slightly against Carlos’ chest, closer to his ribcage, where he can feel the thumping of Carlos’ heart underneath his shirt. It comforts him, the only steady rhythm to latch onto at the moment, to try and steady his own breathing, copying the unwavering rise and fall of Carlos’ chest. 

“I don’t know…” TK whispers, unable to meet Carlos’ eyes. He focuses on his and Carlos’ tangled hands, trails the blue veins with his eyes, Carlos’ slender and long fingers, trying to find the right words, while also buying some time. 

“No?” Carlos gently pushes and TK shakes his head. “TK.” Carlos sighs before he cups TK’s cheek and angles it up so he can meet his eyes. TK blinks a few times to clear his watery eyes and Carlos wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, expression stricken, like it gets when he wants so badly to help but doesn’t know what to do. 

“When I was taken hostage…” He begins, clears his throat a few times, can’t bear watching Carlos upset. “I didn’t really stop to consider how awful it was for you during those hours, and I haven’t been able to grasp the intent completely behind your worrying these few days and now it makes me feel like such an ass. But I understand it now too, what happened to Judd and Grace, it could happen to us too and it’s so scary, so scary Carlos, what if -” He stops, gulps down more tears and bites his wobbling lip hard. 

“Hey, hey.” Carlos says gently and TK’s eyes snap to him. They are sad, but determined too. “It could, but even so I will always promise to fight to get back to you.”

“I wish you could promise me you won’t leave me or that I could promise that nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Well knowing you, letting you out of my sight has proven to be a massive mistake, I swear you’re the most accident prone person I know.” TK wetly chuckles and Carlos’ mouth twitches, the joke easing the tension between them.

“I get scared too, all the time…” Carlos confesses and TK searches his face, reaches out automatically to smooth over the worryline on his forehead, itching to kiss it away.

“Yeah?” TK asks. Carlos nods.

“Yeah, all the time. Especially where you are concerned. But I do think it’s only normal with our jobs and so on. Just… I don’t know, try and be more careful?” The frown grows into a wry little smile and maybe if TK wasn’t so shook from earlier he would have joked it away, but he nods seriously instead.

“I promise. I will always come back, always. Even if I leave.” It’s a painful reminder of TK walking out on Carlos a few months back, still making TK feel ashamed of how he acted. But things are different between them now and walking away from Carlos and from everything they have built together and are going to continue building, that is not an option anymore. “Good.” Carlos whispers and kisses his nose making TK smile. “I will always come back too. Always. I will fight every day to make that promise true.”

“Me too.” TK promises, takes their intertwined hands and kisses the promise into their hands, hoping that the day will never come where he doubts it, doubts them and their future. 

“We’re going to be okay.” Carlos promises and TK closes his eyes and rests his forehead on Carlos’, slowly starting to accept it. 

“Yeah.” TK whispers. 

“And so is Judd and Grace.” 

TK isn’t fully there yet where he dares believe it to be true, but he isn’t giving up hope that it’s all lost either. 

“So, how about a shower?” 

TK opens his eyes, yawns before he stretches, pops his back and nods.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Carlos helps him to his feet and in the bathroom they undress each other before they get in together. TK hums in content as the hot water washes over him and with it the last doubts he has about the future, down the drain where it belongs. As soon as Carlos joins him inside TK walks close, presses his body to Carlos’. It’s not sexual, but it’s a need, to have him near, to let the calmness of Carlos’ wash over him and bring with it a comfort only Carlos can bring out in him and judging by the harsh breath escaping Carlos’ he craves the contact almost as much as TK does. TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’ heart and it grows comfortable between them. That’s until Carlos decides to squirt shampoo loudly on top of TK’s head, breaking them out of the moment. TK’s glare turns into a laugh and Carlos’s eyes sparkle, so very much alive and TK’s insides flutter.

They shower for longer than what they had planned and when they do make it back to the hospital, carrying food from a place Carlos knows to be one of Grace’s favourite takeaways he feels better, more hopeful and willing to believe that things will work out. Carlos’ hair is messy from TK running his fingers through it, but his arm is secure around TK’s waist and TK’s leaning on his shoulder, watching their family help unpack the bags.

And then Judd wakes up.

[albino-whumpee]

First mistake

In which we learn Albus can´t see anything.  

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread​ @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70​ @twistedcaretaker

CW// Pet whump, dehumanization, defiant whumpee, migraines, whumpee as caretaker. Pretty mild one. 

Days later, Albus was having a headache.

It was getting harder to read the reports or even his own notes, and his eyes weren´t taking lightly the increasing strain.

“Are you taking anything for that?” Sasha asked with cards and papers scattered around their table on the cafeteria.

Albus grunted “I can´t take medicine” he said squinting harder at his excel document. Re-reading it for the tenth time.

“You allergic?” Tony asked scratching his head before showing the boy the piece he was working on “Hey, what do you think of this?” Albus sighed, giving up on trying to understand.

“I don´t need them” The boy took a look at the man´s tablet and was marveled as always. But the colors made him stare away. Too vibrant for him “It´s good” he said closing his eyes for a second.

“Dude are you sure about that?” Sasha asked stopping the sound of rushed typing.  

“I have gone through worse without them. I´m fine” he growled annoyed at her insistence “Why does this have last week´s numbers?” he showed her his tablet. She took a look and then directed an even more worried look at him.

“Because it´s last week report, Albus. I sent you the new version an hour ago” she explained making him look at her and then at the tablet.

“No, it´s version 8 right? It´s this one, look” he said feeling a tug on his chest when she shook her head and Tony stretched his neck.

“Ah, no it says right there it´s version 6″ the man said as Sasha pointed with her finger the number 6 at the top. Now more visible at the distance. “See?” the boy sighed before covering his face with his hand.

“Good thing you haven´t sent it to Zarai” Sasha tried to comfort him, but when he didn´t say anything both stared at him. “You didn´t…”

“No, not yet” he said making both sigh in relief. “I have two hours left at least” he said opening the mail app and downloading the correct document. Using index and middle to expand the screen and verify the file´s name.

Sasha looked at Tony and then back at the boy “No, it´s due in half”

“What?” The boy jumped and rushed to check on his notes. His breath growing quicker until he read the actual note and his heart skipped a beat. His eye trembled, before he let himself fall on the table covering his head in a quiet attempt to soothe himself from the anxiety.

He had had trouble reading back at the facility. They had partially erased that part of him before, only to reinstall it later as “costume training” as the handlers liked to call it. It had taken more than just a few hits on his right hand and on his thighs to learn to read and write again without passing out. Despite the white pain he had felt at the beginning, he had gotten used to the small burn at the back of his eyes.

His sight was blurry and even now making up letters up close was difficult sometimes. But he thought it would be fine as long as he squinted enough. He was slow because he always expanded the screen to read…

Was it really something so small, reason enough to get him fired? He shivered and hugged himself harder as he realized that it was enough. Ma´am had a long history of firing slow workers and he couldn´t let that happen.

He trembled at the thought of being returned to the white walls, with its freezing tiles and the muffled sounds of people screaming. The electricity ran through his limbs like a ghost´s caress.

Tony looked at Sasha and reached to tap on his shoulder. Only making him jump away “Hey, hey! It´s ok, Albus, hey, don´t worry man, let me help you with that” the words made Albus teary eyes look up at him at the exact moment Tony gave him his glasses.

The boy blinked a few seconds trying to accustom to the clear view. If just a bit blurry but definitely an improvement.

“Ah, just like I thought. Look here” he pointed to his tablet and he followed his finger to see the document with literal new eyes. “You can read them better right?” Albus nodded.

“Hah, welcome to the four eyes club” Sasha giggled as she went back to work “So you were cranky because your eyes hurt huh? You don´t need to go through pain if I can help it you know. I´ve got ibuprofen in my bag all the time”

“I´ve heard its normal for albinos to have poor sight, didn´t you use glasses before? Your eyes have that little...hm, tremble, you know?” Tony asked him, but he put the act as if he was too busy fixing the document to avoid answering. He didn´t know anyways and time was running out too fast for him to worry about the blinding pain from trying to summon memories kept under the fog.

“Thank you Tony, you´re a life saver” he said so meaning it more than the man could know “I´ll do anything to pay back the favor…just…need to finish this…” he wasn´t lying, but for his luck, he took it as a joke and allowed himself to focus in making his fingers fly on the screen. After Tony simply nodded and waited a few minutes, the man chuckled at the concentration face he put.

“You´re sticking your tongue out” he giggled taking a photo, just before he stood up to sprint to the printer down the hall. 

“You´re done?!” Sasha and him yelled, jaw hanging open. 

He took the paper and read it on his way back to the table “It took me an hour because I couldn´t see the numbers but now?” he smiled shaking the papers in his hands. “Thanks Tony! I´ll give them back later!” the albino shouted, trotting to his owner´s office.

“Good luck!” he managed to hear before he entered the elevator.

He recomposed as he entered the office. Only to find Zarai crying.

She quickly turned around to face the window wiping the tears off. 

“M-Ma´am?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door. “Are you…?”

“Where´s my report, Albus? You´re two minutes late” she cut him out with a husky voice. Albus shifted the papers on his hands.

“I´m sorry, ma´am”

“Knock on the door next time” her voice shifted to that of anger. The boy stared at the documents for a second, before laying them on her desk.

“I´m sorry, ma´am. I´ll do better next time” he replied in a low voice. He stood there twisting his fingers anxiously, until she turned to face him. Her face looked older, showing some signs of fatigue that didn´t have anything to do with work.

“It´s not like you have a choice right?” she said taking the papers and quickly passed them over to let her prodigious memory work as Albus kept his head down in submission. She put the document down and stared at him. “Are those Tony´s glasses?” Albus hadn´t noticed until now that he still had them on. It was comfortable seeing clearly, but he quickly put them on his pockets. “Why do you have them?”

“I, uh…” he stuttered thinking how to string the words together “He lent them to me”

One eyebrow shot up, “I can see that. Since when do you need glasses?” she asked with her brows in a knot. Albus swallowed, fearing he might have become an inconvenience. Undesirable. But he couldn´t ignore her.

“I´m not sure ma´am…” He managed to say.

“They didn´t say anything about bad vision… its recent then?” she mumbled to herself “Do you see well on those?” the question left him frozen.

“…yes, ma´am” he answered after a second. She nodded absent mindedly before standing up.

“Well, check where there´s an optic store and we will go after work. You have to give Tony back his glasses before he stamps himself against a wall” Albus stayed still as he realized she had joked with him. She gave him a look “Yes, I can try be funny sometimes too. I´m not made of ice” she wiggled her hands in a Duh- gesture. “You´ll have to pay for them yourself though. You can do that now” She proceeded to walk out the office for her evening smoke. “Thank you ma´am” he managed to say before she made a gesture as if to close the door but regretted at the last second. “Yes, ma´am?”

“Do you need a pill for that?” she asked leaning on the door frame. 

“No, ma´am. I´m fine” he lied, putting a smile the woman didn´t fell for. 

“I have ibuprofen on my purse. Take one, please” she ordered him before turning on her heels and closing the door. 

The boy let out a sigh. 

She was so hard to read. 

—-

He stayed there for a while, searching for a place like she had ordered him to. But couldn´t stop thinking about her.

How he had found her crying.

It was true he had seen her gloomy and contemplative lately. More than usual. Definitely more emotional than normal. Hugging Momo and staring at the garden for a long time until she stood up and left to her room.

He wondered if it didn´t have anything to do with that weekend´s trip with Claude and Mister Robert. What was it? Why was she in so much pain?

Albus glanced at the photo on her desk. The one with the kids and Sann´s clone. He already had a hunch about what could it be, but… it wasn´t his place to ask and if she didn´t tell him, it wasn´t information he needed to know.

Browsing the internet the sudden realization he would be seeing Sann for the weekend popped on his head and made him blush. He looked at his hands and tried remembering the lady from the sign language video.

“My…” He pointed with his index at his chest and then pulled up both hands in front. Forming “H” with both hands and then ticking one above the other. “Name is…” then he formed each letter. Stumbling a bit between U and S. Sighing at the way he still needed practice to teach it to Sann.

He was breaking one of the most endorsed rule of the facility by thinking about him.

“Don´t get attached to the others”

But he wasn´t there anymore.