#put him in a container and fill it with water. freeze it and a block of ice with mui in it

[munchboxart]

Oh yeah I don't think I've shared these here either. I hand embroidered that plush by the way :3 Jun plush in the works but only when I have more time to do it, it took me a whole day to do Mui. Also the white stuff on his face is extra stuff from the tracing paper

I did these a while ago, especially the first 2. You know those ID photo holders from the first ones are magnetic on the sides? I'm obsessed with these. I wanna collect more stuff like these and put my guys in them. The letters for the 2nd one can be rearranged too, I have other shapes like stars, clouds, rainbows I think, whatever was included.

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |5: Looking Out for the Devil|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 3.8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Y'all get a little Matt POV in this update! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza @cloudroomblog @babygirlmurdock

Monday Night

Shifting all of the bags you were carrying over to your left hand, you tried to stick your key into the lock of your apartment door. It took you a few attempts to even get it into the lock just right because your focus was mostly on the three heavy bags you were currently trying to hold in your left hand while your left leg pressed another bag against the door in an attempt to keep it from falling and spilling its contents all over the hallway floor. 

It was a minute before you finally managed to unlock the door, stuffing your key back into your coat pocket before swinging it open. You gathered up all of the bags in both of your hands afterwards before awkwardly shuffling into your apartment. Once you’d managed to lug everything inside, you reached a foot out behind yourself and kicked the door shut. With a relieved sigh, you dropped all the bags to the floor at your feet before leaning back against the wall behind you, your arms aching and sore from the trek home tonight. 

“That was more work than I expected,” you muttered to yourself.

You took a minute to catch your breath, running a hand over your forehead as you continued to rest your back against the wall. Your heart was racing after having carried all those bags for a few blocks and then having toted them all the way up to your apartment. As you rubbed your sore biceps, you quickly remembered why you always had most of your groceries delivered. 

With another sigh you eventually bent over, beginning to undo the zippers of both of your winter boots before you peeled them off your legs and set them on the entry rug by your door. Straightening back up, you locked your door before tugging your coat off of yourself next, hanging it on the nearby hook. Then turning around, you once more grabbed onto all of the bags you'd dropped before heaving them up into your hands one last time, carrying them all the way over to your kitchen counter before dropping them down with a grunt. 

Reaching into a bag, the first thing you pulled out was the storage bin and its lid that you’d just purchased this evening. You set it onto the counter beside yourself and pulled the lid off, hoping you weren't about to make a complete ass out of yourself with what you were planning on doing with it. 

“Really hope all this food doesn't end up going to waste,” you said to yourself. “But someone needs to make sure you're staying fed and hydrated out there because I know you sure aren't.”

The first thing you wanted to focus on filling the container with was the bottles of water you'd bought. Pulling the grocery bag stuffed full of them towards yourself, you began to pull out multiple bottles as you focused on neatly lining them up on one side of the container. You even added a few extra to the bin since you weren't sure just how many the Devil might need in a night. 

As you worked on filling the container with water, you desperately hoped they wouldn't be frozen bottles of water whenever he potentially managed to stop by your place. You hoped putting the bin out onto your fire escape before you went to bed later at night and bringing it back inside in the morning would help to resolve that issue depending on when he showed up. But at least when it became warmer in a few weeks the water bottles freezing wouldn't be an issue anymore–because you certainly still planned to keep stocking this bin for him for as long as he'd be running around the city at night keeping Hell’s Kitchen safe. It felt like the least you could do.

After the water bottles were situated in the bin, you began pulling out all of the food that you'd purchased from the store after work, taking everything out of the bags and setting them all onto your counter. You quickly set to work tearing open all of the boxes before you began to pull out multiple different packages of food. Working methodically, you neatly stacked the protein bars on top of each other beside packets of trail mix, sticks of jerky, and granola bars in the bin. As you filled the bin, you briefly wondered what snacks were the Devil’s favorite. Would he ever actually tell you so that you could add them to this bin, or would consider that to be too personal of information to share with you, too?

While you knew it wasn't possible to feed the mysterious man an actual meal every night, and you knew that you wouldn’t always be home with a fresh cooked meal all the time, either, you figured maybe if he was aware of the food and water you left out for him like the stray you were affectionately beginning to see him as, he'd find a minute to make his way past your apartment and grab something from the bin on occasion. Because you assumed that he most likely didn't have time to stop by and chat with you every time he was out, but at least this way he might be able to eat something . And you might finally be able to stop worrying about him just a little bit knowing he wouldn't go to bed hungry at night, which was what you figured he currently did and that thought had been bothering you since you'd met him. You hoped this bin of food and water would at least help resolve that some nights.

With the bin finally filled, another idea struck you. Turning around in your kitchen, you began to rifle through your kitchen drawers looking for your pad of post-it notes and a pen. Eventually you discovered both in your junk drawer before bringing them over to an open space on your counter. Smiling to yourself, you wrote out a brief message before peeling off the post-it note and sticking it inside the bin. You let yourself take a moment to admire how neat and tidy everything looked while wondering what the Devil himself might actually make of stumbling on your little Devil’s Pantry. You only wished you could see his reaction when he eventually saw it.

Grabbing the lid from beside the container, you set it back on top and sealed everything up safely inside so the rain and snow wouldn’t ruin the packages of food. You picked up the container and stepped around your kitchen counter, dropping it off on your table beside the window that led to your fire escape. You mentally reminded yourself that you’d need to set it outside for him later tonight before you went to sleep. 

With your task for the evening finally completed, you headed through your living room and down the hall, making your way to your bedroom with every intention of getting out of your work clothes and relaxing for the rest of the night. Though the Devil admittedly wasn’t far from your mind.

Tuesday Night

Matt flung himself over the dividing gap and onto the next rooftop, losing his footing and stumbling slightly as he landed on top of the building. He was exhausted from his night out tonight, his body worn and beaten and his injured rib still not fully healed from the other week. Running around in the cold tonight hadn’t been helping his body either, his muscles already growing stiff from how long he’d been out this evening in the thin layer of clothing he had on.

But yet as he was making his way back towards his own apartment, ready to end the night, he found himself already planning to stop by your place first. He wasn't entirely sure what time it was at the moment or if you were even still awake, but he was curious to drop by your fire escape and find out. It had been a rough night, but the prospect of hearing your bright voice and your entertaining quips were drawing him towards your apartment like a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness that sometimes felt like Hell’s Kitchen on some of his nights out. He couldn’t seem to resist the pull he had towards your place, especially not after what he’d already been dealing with this evening.

Jogging across the length of this rooftop, his breath growing ragged from exertion, he could hear the change in the wind as he neared the edge of the building. Gritting his teeth together before he leapt across, he braced himself for the impact. Once more he stumbled as he landed onto the top of your building, letting out a grunt of pain as his rib throbbed miserably at the jolt. He paused for a minute, wincing as his gloved hand reached down, covering the sore area along his side. Someone had managed to get a decent punch there not too long ago which certainly hadn’t helped, either.

When the sting of pain began to fade enough, he carefully paced his way towards the edge of the roof on the side of the building where he knew your fire escape was located. Once more bracing himself for the series of sharp impacts he was about to endure as he dropped down, he grit his teeth and knelt down on the rooftop before deftly flinging himself over the side of it. He landed solidly on the fire escape below, his injured side already protesting his actions. Ignoring the pain, he rose back up and gripped onto the metal railing of this fire escape before easily throwing himself over once more and onto your fire escape just below. 

With a relieved sigh now that he knew he could take a momentary breather, he rose back up to his feet and focused his senses on your apartment, attempting to ignore the growing ache along his ribs. His head canted to the side as he approached your window, catching the even and soft sounds of your breathing from inside. He realized you were in fact asleep just as the toe of his right boot knocked into something on the metal landing.

Matt instantly paused, taking a step back as confusion crossed his features beneath his mask. His head darted down in surprise towards whatever he’d kicked, his body pausing for just a moment. Then curiously he lowered into a crouch on your fire escape, wondering what the mysterious object sitting outside of your apartment could be. Nothing should have been out here. 

Gloved hands reaching out, he began to feel the object before himself. It was solid and rectangular. After a moment he thought it strangely felt like a container, and if he focused closely enough, he smelled…

“Food?” he whispered in disbelief.

His brows knitted together in deeper confusion, his head tilting to the side once more as one of his hands removed the lid. The unmistakable scent of beef jerky, granola, nuts, peanut butter, and dried fruit hit his nose.

Matt took a moment to remove his gloves, setting them on the fire escape beside his boots as his brows remained tightly knit together behind his mask. He slowly reached his hands back into the container only to have his fingers brush against what felt like a post-it note. He picked it up, running his fingers along the indentation of pen marks carefully a couple of times. Eventually he managed to make out what you'd clearly written as a note for him. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips beneath the mask as he ran his fingertips over the pen marks, reading your message to him again.

Take whatever you need from the Devil’s Pantry. And please DRINK SOME WATER (if it's not frozen). Your kidneys will thank me.

He laughed lightly to himself, very aware of the way you'd emphasized the part about drinking water. You'd even underlined that section besides writing it in all capitalized letters. You certainly were concerned about his kidneys, weren't you? 

“Devil’s Pantry, huh?” he murmured to himself in amusement.

He reached his hands inside the container, a grin on his mouth as his fingertips inevitably met the plastic of a water bottle. He pulled one out, noting it was fairly chilled to the touch but not yet frozen. You must have set this container on your fire escape for him not too long ago. Possibly before you'd gone to sleep. Something warm and unfamiliar filled him at the thought as he twisted off the lid and began to drink down the water. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little thirsty. 

You were a curiosity to Matt. Surprisingly quite trusting of the Devil, a man you didn't even know, who spent his free time lurking the city at night and beating the shit out of criminals. Yet you oddly seemed to admire him for it. And for some reason you kept going well out of your way to help him ever since you'd accidentally met him that evening when he'd fallen onto your fire escape in a snowstorm. Your care and concern for him was something that he just couldn’t begin to understand from a stranger. Or a possible friend, he supposed.

And what he found even odder than your kindness towards him was the fact that you were attracted to him. It was almost impossible for him to ignore with the way your body practically screamed it at him whenever he showed up–especially that time he’d shown up and you’d undressed him and kept him warm. He’d been very aware of your attraction to him then as you sat in his lap. Matt would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t also intentionally done things to see if he could increase your heart rate sometimes, whether it was flirting with you or stepping a bit too close into your personal space. Your body always reacted and he found it interesting. Certainly no one else ever reacted to the Devil like that when he was out. Only you. Everyone else in the city was afraid of him, even those he rescued elicited the scent of fear.

But you were different.

Maybe it was because his blood was always still running a little hot from his time out as the Devil after the things he'd done that night, or maybe it was the constant physical activity as he raced around the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, but he couldn't deny that it excited him a little whenever he felt the way you reacted to this side of him when he showed up at your window. Because you didn't know who he was, and he didn't really know who you were, either. You didn't even know what he really looked like since he had never removed his mask, putting the pair of you almost on equal footing for the first time in his life. Which was…exhilarating, in a sense.

You were somehow attracted to what he considered the darker side of himself. The side he always kept hidden and sometimes even felt ashamed existed. It was a side that was not Matt Murdock–the kind and charming lawyer by day who helped those in need in a different way in Hell’s Kitchen. The side everyone knew him as because the Devil didn't have friends. Except for maybe Claire. Though you were the only one drawn to the side he kept a secret, a side Foggy didn't even know about and Claire had very much rejected. But you seemed to care about him anyway, even when he was injured and covered in someone else's blood. Somehow still wanting to take care of him, still worried about him. And there was something very curious about that. 

As Matt reached a hand out, grabbing a stick of jerky and tearing it open, he reminded himself that that was all this was between the two of you. Your strange desire to help Hell’s Kitchen's vigilante and his strange desire to keep appearing at your window. Maybe for the possibility of a friendship to form between you both because deep down he did feel a little alone at night even if he would never admit it. But there was nothing more than that between you both. Because there never could be anything more. Not without you knowing who he actually was, and that was something that he'd absolutely never reveal to you no matter how many slip ups he had. You would never know the Devil was actually Matthew Murdock, which meant nothing more could ever pass between you two than the fleeting moments you had together in the evenings.

Quickly devouring the stick of jerky, he grabbed another bottle of water and what seemed to be a protein bar before he put the lid back on the container. If you were going to leave him snacks, he wasn't going to let them go to waste. As you already seemed to know and were perpetually bothered by, he certainly wasn't about to go home and find anything to eat in his apartment before he collapsed in his bed. 

Positioning the water and bar in the crook of his arm, he began to descend the fire escape, making his way down towards the alley. His apartment wasn't that far from yours thankfully, only a block over and across the street. You lived so close to him that truthfully, if he had wanted to eavesdrop on you as Matt Murdock while he was home because maybe you’d crossed his mind during the day, he absolutely could. 

But of course, that would be wrong in more ways than one and he absolutely wasn’t going to do that.

Wednesday Morning 

The shrill sound of your phone alarm cut through the dream you'd been having, pulling you back to consciousness. You groaned, burying your face in your pillow as your left hand darted out of the warmth of your sheets, feeling around the nightstand beside your bed in search of your phone. Eventually your fingers found it and you picked it up, unburying your head from your pillow and squinting at the bright screen in your dark bedroom.

Turning off the irritating alarm, you dropped your phone back onto the nightstand with a loud clatter before burying your face back into your pillow. You definitely didn't feel like leaving the comfort and warmth of your bed to go and get ready for work. Another miserable groan left you at just the thought of getting up, the sound muffled in the fabric of your pillow.

But then your body stiffened as you remembered the container on your fire escape. The Devil hadn't seemed to stop by Monday night when you'd first set it out because when you'd brought it back inside yesterday morning nothing appeared to have been removed. You'd been a little disappointed at the sight but you reminded yourself that he was probably busy. Or maybe he hadn't been out that night. Or he may not have even made his way over to this side of Hell’s Kitchen.

Or maybe he thought you were weird and creepy for suddenly leaving him food and water out like he really was a stray cat and now he was avoiding you.

But despite that fear, you found yourself hopeful this morning. Maybe he'd stopped by last night and finally discovered your little Devil’s Pantry filled with snacks and had actually been pleasantly surprised. You certainly hoped so.

Pushing yourself upright, you threw the sheets off of yourself and quickly jumped out of bed. In barely contained excitement that would have been embarrassing if anyone else had witnessed it, you hurried out of your room and down the hallway, making your way through your living room and over towards the window. Unlocking it, you pushed it up before leaning out of it into the freezing February morning air to grab the container. You turned and set it on the kitchen counter beside you before quickly closing the window and locking it once more.

Focusing your attention back on the container, you shivered at the lingering chill from the open window as you removed the lid. A smile quickly drew itself across your mouth at the contents inside. Two water bottles were definitely missing and your post-it note had been moved. It also looked like a couple of snacks had been taken as well.

Still smiling in satisfaction to yourself and refraining from letting out a pleased squeal, you realized he had stopped by sometime last night when you were asleep and had found the snacks you’d left for him. You wondered what he'd thought when he'd found it. Did he think it was strange? Was he grateful? Did he not care at all? Though what had you even more curious was another couple of questions that soon arose in your mind. 

How often had the Devil actually been stopping by your place and you had never known before because you were asleep or not home? And why did he keep coming back? 

Making a mental note to stop by the store after work later today and pick up some ibuprofen to stick in the container with the food, you placed the lid back onto it. The Devil had told you the other night that he was often out even when he was injured. You’d had a sneaking suspicion that if he didn't keep much food in his apartment, his medicinal supplies might not be so well stocked either. He could probably use something to help with the pain he seemed to always be in, especially because you had a strong feeling he didn't sit down and do that weird meditation thing every night to heal himself. He seemed like he barely took care of himself as it was, too focused on helping everyone else, so you doubted he spared the extra time for that unless he really needed it.

But you were determined to make sure someone was looking out for him in Hell’s Kitchen.

You turned and set the container on your kitchen counter before making your way around it and over towards your coffee machine. As you turned it on, your disappointment at having missed the chance to interact with him last night was replaced by the knowledge that he'd yet again come back to your place for whatever reason. You took pleasure in knowing that you’d been able to help him even if you hadn’t been able to see him. But as you began to brew a cup of coffee, you knew he’d be on your mind all day today. Because now you found yourself wondering what it was that kept bringing him back to your apartment over and over.

[systemgoblincore]

an American with severe Not Able To Sweat When Too Hot Issues. I can't really add anything else, but I will say

If you're struggling to keep cool, getting a mist bottle full of water, misting yourself, and standing in front of a fan (or ac) cools you down surprisingly fast. I've used this method in very hot weather (115F / 46C) and it was an absolute life saver.

Other things that helped were sitting in cold water with a fan.

A thing my mom did when she was pregnant with me during hotter weather was sit in the tub with cool water, wet a sheet, and wrap it around her midsection. Also, she soaked a hand towel and placed it on her head with a fan going and constant water intake.

my dog struggles with water intake, too. I've found that putting a small amount of chicken broth (reduced sodium) in his water makes him drink twice as much. Another thing he struggles with is eating when warm. He refuses the water method but will munch broth or gravy (which also has the bonus of Making Him Drink More Water)

Signs of heatstroke in dogs: sources 1 + sources 2

elevated breathing rates

dry or sticky gums

abnormal gum color

bruising in the gums

may appear lethargic or disoriented

and can have seizures

If anyone happens to have rabbits outdoors, bring them in for this. Especially if they are fur heavy. Don't bring them in from hot to cold too fast though, this can shock their system! If you can't I got you anyway!

Indoor bunny heat care: LOTS and LOTS of water. You can even partially freeze the bottle to get a chunk of ice to cool the water down to help cool them. If you have a soda bottle, fill it with water and freeze it solid and put it in their enclosure, they will eventually flop against it and cool themselves down.

You may have to show your rabbit how first! Mist their ears and give them a fan to blow on their cage. Give them LOTS and lots of fruit and veggies with high water content! I've found that watermelon and celery hydrate my bunnies well.

DO NOT give them iceberg lettuce. Another thing is to get some sort of stone tile that you can put in the freezer to cool down and then in their cage to lay on. (Tiles also work great to give your bunny a place to rest if they're in a wire bottom cage!)

Outdoor rabbit heat care: take the info from above, apply it. You will also need to take extra steps to keep them out of the sun. Shade their area with whatever you can, tarps work well to reflect heat off but can ALSO trap heat too depending on the color of the tarp. On my farm, we tended to use thick sheets and blankets on a clothesline to block sunlight. Use what you have, and get creative. You will need to keep an extra close eye on any outdoor animal, but with rabbits, more so. These temps can be deadly very quickly, keep on top of it as best as you can.

Remember to look for signs that your rabbit is TOO HOT and is experiencing heatstroke! Source + Source for image

Red ears, which are hot to the touch

Fast breathing (short, quick breaths)

Open mouth breathing

Lethargy (low energy)

Blood from mouth and nose or anus (bottom)

Blood in poo

Shaking and tremors

Wobbliness and confusion

Seizures

Weakness and collapse

Unconsciousness

I dont have cats so is can't give anyone tips but I can give heatstroke warning signs for your feline friends! Source

Panting and fast breathing

Bright/dark red or sometimes very pale gums

Vomiting

Diarrhoea (sometimes containing blood)

Weakness

Confusion

Wobbliness and collapse

Seizures

Blindness

Unconsciousness

And finally, signs of heat sickness vs heatstroke as well as other heat illnesses for humans. Source

The website listed in source for this has a Spanish translation, PDF, as well as text only versions of this image.

Please stay safe in this heat everyone!

I need UK journalists to not show 43 degrees is not beach weather like people are gonna die

Americans do not interact

[bohica160]

Yandere Chris - Drabble 2

Sorry for the lack of uploads, work has been crazy the past 2 weeks with all the new covid patients we've been getting 😖

This may not be good hahaha....😅

Once again this is purely IF Chris was a yandere. In no shape or form do I see this man as any type of "dere"

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗMinors gtfo, this isn't for youᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Warnings: Yandere Chris, mentions of toxic/abusive ex & relationship, suggestions of violence

TW: This drabble contains slight yandere themes. By clicking 'Keep reading', you have accepted and acknowledged the warning.

It had been a long week for you. You’ve been on edge these past few days due to a certain someone from your past sliding into your DMS on multiple social media platforms. However it seemed like no matter how many times you ignored the messages, and even blocked every new account they made, they would never stop filling up your inbox. Thankfully you had your weekly hang out with Chris to look forward to towards the end of the week. Even though you both work in the same building, it was very rare for the two of you to actually talk during work hours. He was training with his squad or researching for his new mission, while you were mostly in the lab. It was nice to do normal people things and not have to worry about work.

When Saturday came around, you left your house pretty early, to keep yourself busy. The constant harassment from your inbox was only making your anxiety grow. You figured running a few errands would help distract you until you met up with Chris. You ended up getting to the café a little bit earlier than your agreed time. You decided to put in your order and find a spot for the two of you. Once you got your hot cup of caffeine, you went over to one of the empty tables and dug out your phone. Chris should be here soon.

"Hey! Long time no see." Your heart sank. Ice ran through your veins. You looked up and saw someone you were hoping to never see again for the rest of your life. Your ex. Given you haven't seen him in years and you've dated a couple of people after him, obviously nothing became serious, but the bitter taste he left in your mouth never went away. Forever lingering. You did your best to forget about him, but there were times where he would pop into your head out of the blue. Making the scars on your heart ache.

You quickly shot out of your seat, almost knocking your chair over. Quickly gathering your things you pushed past the man and hurried out of the café. Just as you burst through the doors, you walked into a solid large body. The sudden impact on your nose made your eyes start to water. Two large hands clasped your shoulder, “You okay?” The familiar deep voice asked as you rubbed your nose. You quickly nodded only to freeze when a voice called out behind you. “Y/n you forgot your-... Who are you?” “Chris” he glared at the other man. He was about to ask the same questions when Chris suddenly felt a tug on his shirt, bringing his attention back to you. Looking down he noticed your knuckles turning white as you clutch to him, looking straight at his chest. His thumbs rubbed small circles into your tense shoulders, hoping to calm you down.

“Well Chris, maybe you should mind your own business,” Your ex said with a matter-of-fact tone. Each time the man behind you opened his mouth, your shoulders would become more rigid. At some point, your head began to pound from all the intense emotions bubbling over. Wanting to yell, cry, even punch him in the face. You finally released your hold on Chris before spinning around, stalking up to the man and ripping whatever you forgot from his grasps. "Don't talk to me ever again." Giving the man a disgusted look before turning on your heel. You slip your soft hands into Chris's calloused ones tugging him in the opposite direction of the café.

For a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face before looking towards the other man. If looks could kill, your ex would have no pulse. Once when the two of you were far enough the male yelled out. "Good luck finding someone who can put up with your crazy clingy ass! No one will ever want someone as broken as you!" The words pierced through your chest, almost instantly making your eyes tear up, but you refused to cry. Just not now. Once when you get to the comfort of your apartment you'll let all your emotions out. However, for Chris, those words made his blood boil. Just as he was about to turn around, you felt his arm go taut, only to squeeze his hand and tug on his arm again.

You guys were now a few blocks away from your once favorite café. So lost in thought you didn't hear Chris call out your name the first few times. "Y/n" you felt Chris’s hand gave a small tug at yours as he slowed his walking to a stop. You released his hand, mentally preparing yourself for the worst before turning to look at him. "Sorry about all that. I didn't mean for you to get involved in that." You let out a small chuckle. "If you want to call it a day I'd totally understand," you said with the best smile you could muster up without trying to make it seem forced. Though by the looks of it Chris wasn't falling for it. A loud muffler from a passing car startled you, catching your attention for a quick moment. Within that small window, Chris quickly closed the distance between the two of you and pulled you into his muscular body, tucking your head under his chin. “He an ex?” he asked softly enough just for only you to hear. You nodded your head, letting out a big sigh. He gave your smaller body a squeeze as if to tell you it's okay. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his middle, nervous about messing up your friendship with the man in front of you. Chris ended up walking you back to your apartment, worried your ex would approach you again.

As you both continued the journey back home, you gave a little bit of information about your previous relationship. You never really told people about your relationship, because you knew damn well that it was absolutely toxic. How you let him walk all over you. You pretty much threw all your standards out the window without even realizing it at first. In no shape or form was he worthy of you, yet he chewed you up and spat you out like nothing. The emotional scars he left on your heart made you very skeptical and guarded. Afraid to give your heart to anyone. A small part of Chris was grateful for your shity ex to have brought you two a little bit closer, however, he hated to see you so hurt. He was extremely speechless, that someone like your ex had the audacity to hurt someone so wonderful. Even though you didn’t fill Chris on every detail, his blood was boiling. Even though a storm was raging inside him, he wanted to make sure your day ended on a good note. The two of you ended up grabbing some snacks from a convenience store and sat at a park not too far from your place. Talking about anything and everything. The two of you stayed there until the sky took on a beautiful mixture of red and orange. Before bidding Chris a farewell, you apologized again only for him to say, “you have nothing to apologize for”. For once it felt like despite your emotional baggage, it didn't mean you were a lost cause. You’d even say you had a sliver of hope to try to dating again.

While it seemed like the rest of the city was sleeping, Chris laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. Something about the whole situation with your ex didn’t sit well with him. Just something kept nagging in the back of Chris’s mind, and it seemed like the only way for his mind to quiet down was to go and check up on you. He knew that you would be asleep by now seeing how late it was, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure. The cool breeze flows through Chris’s short brown hair while his footsteps echo down the empty streets. Just as Chris rounded the corner, he saw a dark figure stand at your doorstep. It looked like they were trying to see if you had a spare key hidden. Little did they know, you had already snatched it a while back when the two of you first started to see each other outside of work. The figure was so focused on looking under the mat and in your potted plants, they didn’t even hear Chris come up behind them. He quickly engulfed their mouth and nose with one of his hands. Trying to squeeze the last bit of air from their lungs until they blacked out. Once Chris knew the stranger was out cold, he turned them just enough to get a good look to see who was trying to get into your apartment. It was none other than your ex. Chris quickly looked around to make sure no one was around before throwing your ex over his shoulder and walk off down the road.

“Man why are Mondays so long?” you ask out loud with a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. Chris’s lips tilt up slightly at you. “Don’t you say that every Monday?” You elbow him in the side as the two of you wait for your orders. “You saying you like Mondays Mr. Redfield?” “I mean not having to worry about packing food every Monday is pretty nice” You shook your head with a smile. The man behind the register flipped through the channels on the TV hanging right near the counter, stopping on the local new channel. ‘And now News at 1 with Amy…… ‘Good afternoon. There has been another report of a missing male within the area. Police are unsure if both are connected to each other in some way. Back in ……… Mr……’ “I was thinking maybe one of these Mondays we can try this other place that just opened up a couple of months ago,” Chris said pulling out his phone, pulling up the restaurant’s menu, as he moved closer to get your undivided attention. You looked at the device screen with him as we pointed out some dishes he knew you would love to try. After a few minutes you turned back to the TV, ‘We are hoping if anyone knows anything on these two whereabouts or anything that could help the police, please call the local police department. It is said that Mr….. outside of café…….’ “And I heard they have amazing pancakes on the weekends.” Your ears perked up. “Really!? It’s been too long since I’ve had some” Your eye started to sparkle just thinking about the warm fluffy buttermilk pancakes. “Are you hinting that we should go there this weekend?” You gave him a little nudge. “I am a sucker for breakfast food” he replied with a small chuckle. “Sounds like a plan!” the smile dropped from you face, “Plus it would probably be for the best if we didn’t go to that café for a little bit.” There was that look again on your face that broke Chris’s heart. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.” “Hmm, I bet. Honestly, he stands no chance against you” you gave him a reassuring smile before your order numbers were called out from behind the counter.

Later that night, once Chris got home from work. He kicked off his boots before heading into his bedroom to change into some old clothes before heading towards the back of the house where the basement stairs were located. The sound of him unlocking the multiple locks on the metal door echoed through the house. Once inside he closed and locked the door again before taking a couple of steps to pull at the chain hanging above, to turn on the dusty yellow light. There in front of him sat a male figure with a black sack over his head, slumped forward in the metal chair he was tied to. Chris walked up to the figure, ripping the sack off before moving to a table that sat against one of the stone walls. The man in the chair groaned as his eyes adjusted to the light, “How long do you think you can keep this up Chris” the man asked, looking around the room trying to find any way to escape the room. “Well that depends on how long it takes for you to make up all the pain you gave Y/N” he replied with his back still turned to the captured male. He clicked his tongue, “I didn’t do anything to that dumb bitch. Besides someone's probably out there looking for me right now.” Within a few seconds, the male was on the ground face pressed into the cold metal floor, the side of his head throbbing from the punch Chris quickly delivered. “No one will bother over scum such as yourself.” Chris picked the guy and the chair, sitting right up. Chris walked back to the table before picking up a hatchet and turning back to the man. “Now, which hand should we start with?”

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

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ°˖✧.*:･ Tag list: @thatgoblin , @interviewedchicken

[yandearest]

MTOBEIYF Planned Ending

Apologies for not writing in a long time. I haven’t been able to work on my fic due to personal reasons. Not sure if I will have time in the future but didnt want to leave people hanging so here is the planned ending:

May come back to this one day, so obvious spoiler warning

CH 8 Hide and Seek

The girl from 6 attempts to kill YN but YN wakes up hearing the sound of twigs snapping as she climbs the tree. She feigns being asleep only to swing her knife when 6 gets close, causing her to lose her balance and fall from the tree to her death.

At the sound of a canon Hoseok awakens – immediately seeing Athena, Namjoon and Yoongi all still in the tent. Realizing it could only be 6 or YN Hoseok rushes out and starts screaming her name over the edge of the fall. When there’s no answer, he immediately grabs a bag along with bow and arrow, and leaves camp. Namjoon says he’s coming too and this time they won’t return without her – brings a sword.

Athena notices the boys leaving and follows without them realizing.

Back in the forest YN hasn’t eaten since the games began and is beginning to starve. In desperation she makes her way back towards the cornucopia to gather food but comes across a bush filled with berries. Remembering the training she spent on foods she can’t decide if the berries are blueberries or nightlock and decides to nibble just a little bit first. The taste is initially sweet so she swallows the mouthful before a numbing effect on the tongue and throat- making her realize it’s the poison nightlock. Quickly she shoves her finger down her throat and induces vomiting to bring up as much of the poison as possible, but some is still in her system. She forces herself to throw up again before drinking all the water left in her bottle to try and rehydrate only to throw up again. Makes a run for the river.

Athena sees the nightlock and vomit and thinks YN has gone to the waterfront to try and wash it out of her system given there was no canon – so she’s still alive – but no one is there. Athena tracks. Meanwhile Hoseok and Namjoon are both near the bottom of the hill – they make a truce to not attack each other until Yoongi and Athena are dead before splitting up to cover more ground. Namjoon takes the forest, Hoseok goes towards the water.

YN drags herself in and floats on her back, scooping water into her hand to try and drink before Athena suddenly appears above her. YN is weak, with no will to live, and can tell Athena is about to kill her and asks for a quick death to which Athena promises a stab to the heart. Athena tells her she really does look like an angel and YN responds that Athena is her angel of death, a mercy killing saving her from a much worse fate with Namjoon or Hoseok. Athena agrees and steadies her with one hand under her rib cage, YN holds onto her arm with her closest hand and stares up to the ‘sky’. But before Athena can strike a blow an arrow is launched into the side of Athena’s head and her dead body falls onto YN, who is too weak to push her off. Hoseok sprints out from his hiding place to rescue YN, meanwhile Namjoon, watching from inside the forest, decides to head back to camp before sunset – knowing Hoseok and YN will be safe together.

YN is barely conscious as Hoseok drags her out of the water. Shouldering her bag with the blanket inside, along with his own bag, he carries her over to the waterfall and to 7’s old camp inside. He lays her down before running off to fetch dry twigs and branches in order to build a fire. As the sun sets and the temperature drops YN is still wet from the river and beginning to freeze. Hoseok strips her of her clothes and wraps her in the thermal blanket before another gift from a sponsor arrives of a container of hot soup. Hoseok feeds her and YN becomes more conscious but increasingly depressed about having survived.

She blames him for taking away her painless exit from the games and he asks her what kind of death she wants. Remembering how sweet the berries were she tells him she wants to die by nightlock. She asks him to promise to let her eat nightlock if they are the final 2 and he doesn’t answer. She then asks how he would want to die and he says he doesn’t plan on it and tells her to instead imagine being old together. She jokes about growing old and living in the arena forever before saying the capital would force them to kill each other somehow.

Still shivering under the blanket Hoseok strips off his remaining clothing to warm her up with skin to skin contact from behind. Initially starts with rubbing her arms before his hands circle around to her breasts.

YN feels ashamed at how quickly she responded and tries to push Hoseok away only for him to push her onto her back. She puts her hands against his chest unsure if she was trying to pull him closer or away. Looking her in the eyes he sees them glassy and in shock as he tries to sooth her, running his fingers through her hair lovingly. The other hand holds hers before moving his hand to wrap her thigh around his hip, kissing her as he pushes in. Hoseok wipes a tear from her cheek, a combination from the shame and how good the sex is feeling. Her eyelashes flutter close and she sighs her head tilting to the side resting her forehead against their joined hands letting out whimpers whenever he pushes inside of her.

His other arm braces himself by the side of her head, caging her underneath his body. She stares up at him entranced by the warm light of the fire casting a golden glow on his tan skin, as the shadows emphasize his sharp cheekbones, pointed nose, and strong jawline. If she was an angel then Jung Hoseok was the devil himself and she was being dragged to hell.  Hoseok uses his shirt to wipe her down before holding her tightly against him as they both fall asleep by the fire.

X

CH 9 A fate worse than death

They’re awoken by the sound of a canon early in the morning and quickly realize that they’re now down to just 3 people. YN wants to stay in the cave and wait for the last person to try and find them here but Hoseok wants to confront them at camp, telling her to wait for him. She refuses and follows him. He warns her of traps they set around the camp and holds her hand to guide her through the forest.

Nearing the camp they see Yoongi’s body floating face down in the river, ‘Namjoon wants us to know it’s him’ YN wants to walk through the river to avoid leaving tracks but Hoseok says it’s too visible and steers them back into the forest to take another way around to the camp, along the area he set the traps up in. Hoseok becomes suspicious the traps he set have been moved only to trigger a rope trap that he dodges only for YN to be caught in a net. As Hoseok tries to find the rope to cut her down Namjoon appears, severing the back of his leg with a knife. YN screams and Namjoon remarks that he looks forward to hearing more of that sound after he finishes with Hoseok, saying sharing time is up and that he wants to have his way with his district mate before securing his victory. He toys with Hoseok, making deep cuts that are painful, but not lethal – taunting him. It becomes increasingly clear that Namjoon deliberately toned down his skills in the training and assessment and is even smarter and stronger than his 10. Meanwhile YN is inside the net cutting a hole. As Namjoon teases Hoseok, telling him he’s going to force her to watch him die, then he’s going to fuck her and finally gut her like a fish from their district, YN falls out from the net and breaks her arm on impact – alerting Namjoon. Namjoon decides he wants to force Hoseok to watch and stabs his him through the hand with an arrow pinning him to the ground.

‘Silly little dove,’ Namjoon taunts as he reaches her laying on the ground – falsely thinking she’s cradling her broken arm – but she really has a knife. When he grabs her by the hair and yanks her up she swings her arm and slashes him across the chest, drawing blood. Namjoon sneers and goes to hit her but remembering their sparing session from training YN dodges the attack and is able to land another slash in with the knife, this time across his arm. Namjoon acknowledges his mistake in underestimating her and promises it won’t happen again. YN attempts to surprise him by attacking first but he blocks the knife and slams her wrist against a boulder until she drops it. YN slams her knee up in Namjoon’s groin who retaliates by gripping her broken arm and slamming her against the boulder. In too much pain from the broken arm she can’t defend herself when NJ backhands her across the face, sending her to the ground. She reaches for her knife but he steps on her arm and she screams in pain as Hoseok snaps the arrow in half and pulls his hand out of the broken stem, biting down on his shoulder to try and smother his scream. Namjoon leans down to grab her knife, holding it to her throat as he straddles her waist and tells her he’s going to claim her as his, and if she behaves then he’ll give her the quick death. YN sobs as he reaches for her pants only for Hoseok to appear behind and stab Namjoon in the neck with the tip half of the broken arrow. Namjoon drops the knife in shock and YN quickly picks it up and stabs him in the heart mockingly saying she’s granting him a quick death. She kicks his body off of hers and he floats down the stream towards the edge of the waterfall before disappearing off the side. – a canon sounds

Both injured, YN and Hoseok collapse into each others arms. Hoseok has multiple stab wounds, a bad one on his leg and the hole in his hand from the arrow. YN has her broken arm, a bruise on her face from the hit and a cut on her throat from where the knife had been held. Hoseok confesses he loves her as he cradles her in his arms, YN with her eyes closed and leaning against his chest can’t bring herself to admit her love but instead asks him to let her eat a nightlock berry like she tried to make him promise. Hoseok holds her tighter and asks if she trusts him. She says yes and Hoseok leans down to kiss her one last time which she returns. ‘close your eyes angel’ she does. With his injured hand he wraps his arm around her neck to cut off circulation, his good hand covers her nose and mouth, smothering her. She tries to struggle but passes out within 10 seconds, he keeps the hold for another 10 and the canon sounds

Hoseok is declared the winner of the games

 *

 YN awakens inside of a medical bay. Confused she wonders if she is in a strange version of hell, or if the capitol has somehow found a way to harvest souls, before a nurse realizes she is conscious. She is informed that the trackers injected into the body detect when the heart stops beating which sounds the canon. Hoseok had refused to leave her body and demanded she be taken with him on the ship that came to claim him as the winner and remove him from the arena. Immediately on board he began to resuscitate her and is able to start her heartbeat again. He convinces the capital workers to let him keep her. She had died, he had won the games, if he could revive her afterwards it wouldn’t make a difference to them, they could continue to let everyone think she had died. The capital agrees on the conditions she is to live with him and never able to leave their mansion in the victors’ village and Hoseok is to comply with any future demands of the capital to do with his obligations as a winner. He accepts and the medical team take them both away. YN asks where she is now and the doctor tells her inside of the train. Hoseok is on victory tour of all the districts and refuses to let her be taken away from him – fearing the capital will dispose of her. He fears she could still be killed whilst inside the train but he would also raise hell during one of the stops if that happened. YN is confused, distraught and traumatized when Hoseok walks in to see her awake. He runs to her side and envelops her in a hug, kissing her. He repeats how much he loves her and that nothing can ever take her form this world without him following right behind her. YN is in shock, not believing she is alive, not believing Hoseok is real and struggling to speak. The doctor tries to explain to Hoseok she may have brain damage and it’s a possibility she could never recover. The only thing Hoseok cares about is that she is alive.

A summary of the tour continuing with YN recovering although her speech is permanently impaired (aphasia). When they finally conclude and return to 2 she is moved in a van that is disguised to look like a delivery and transported inside of a box from the van to the house, so no one can possibly see her.

Inside the blinds are shut and all the doors are locked before Hoseok appears again and forces an ‘engagement’ ring on her finger, but there is a device inside that tracks her location. YN begins to panic, she went from being trapped in one arena to trapped forever in this house. She tries to run but there’s nowhere to run to. She runs to the kitchen to search for a knife but Hoseok restrains her before she can injure herself. She goes limp in his arms losing all hope as he whispers in her ear how much he loves her and now they can always be together forever.

[luimagines]

I was wondering how the boys would react to you having a breakdown?

Masterlist

SO so softly.

This one won't be as long as the others but I will be splitting it into two parts.

This one contains Hyrule, Sky, Legend, Warrior and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

Hyrule had noticed that you were having a rough day.

He wasn't sure what had set it off or how it started because you were fine in the morning but something happened along the lines that tipped you over the edge.

You were walking down the trail of this unknown Hyrule. Until you tripped and landed directly on your knee.

Hyrule stopped in his tracks at the sight.

Usually you'd just get back up and brush it off, act like it never happened. But this time...

He hears you sniffle and his heart breaks.

"Hey," Hyrule makes his way over to you. "Are you ok?"

"I... I don't know." Your voice cracks.

You shift to get off of your knee and look at the cut. It appears that you landed directly on a rock and it cut through your pants.

"No... I'm not ok." Your eyes quickly fill with tears and Hyrule all but runs to your side.

He's quick to pull you close and rub circles on your back. The touch seemed to be the final straw on the camels back and sobs began to rack your body with such force that it shook Hyrule to his core.

His heart bled with you as you cried.

"Anything I can do to help?" He asks after a few minutes of silence.

"No." You sniff and hug him tightly.

"You sure?"

"My brother... He's sick." You admit. "And I... I can't-"

You look up and into his eyes. "I can't go see him. He's not getting any better. I'm stuck. I-"

You freeze, glancing over his shoulder and the sobs turn to rage. "YOU!"

Hyrule lets you go and turns around.

A shadow. Formless and floating. A single black mass with no face or discernable features but all the more watchful.

You rip yourself away from Hyrule and stand up again. "Why are you here?!"

You know this thing?

"Is it dangerous?" Hyrule stands up as well and makes a grab for his sword.

"To me? No." You admit and grab his hand. "But it's never really shown itself to be an ally."

You glare at it, wiping the last of your tears away. "You can't hurt my friends, you hear me? I'll kill you if you even try."

Hyrule put his hand on your shoulder and begins to lead you away. "Ca you even kill that thing? Are we safe?"

Your glare hardens. "I don't know, I've never tried. We should be safe though. It's a long story."

"I've got time." Hyrule smiles. "We're at the back of the group, so it's not like we have to worry about the other walking up on us."

"Maybe later." You sigh and take his hand in yours. "Let's go."

Your voice is soft and quiet, he has to strain himself a bit to hear it but he knows its because the sadness has returned.

He takes his hand out and places it around your shoulders instead, holding you close.

Hyrule walks with you, side by side until to reach the rest of the group.

Maybe you just need a friend right now.

He can be that friend.

Sky

Sky had noticed that you were quieter than usual.

And not within the same brand that Link’s were typically used to.

It was like a loaded spring waiting to burst from confinement and he thinks he can see the moment when it happens.

The group was simply teasing and rough housing each other until someone said something and you didn’t appreciate it.

You shoot straight up from where you’re sitting, fists at your side, jaw clenched and what looks like to be tears beginning to build in your eyes. Without a word, you turn on your heel and leave the group behind. 

The camp falls silent at your departure, no one knowing what went wrong.

Sky hums in contemplation and stands up as well, silently waving to the group that he has you covered.

He’s to follow where you went and he picks up the pace to make up for lost time. You didn't seem to go far, just out of ear shot.

When he finds you, you’re pacing back and forth, muttering to yourself in a language he doesn’t understand or even heard for that matter. Your hands are still clenched into fists, but one’s by your mouth, pressed tightly enough that the skin pales and the other is gripping your wrist tightly enough that he thinks you’re digging into your skin.

There are tears openly falling from your eyes but aside from the miniscule voice cracks that he barely catch, you’re silent.

If no one followed you, he doubt that they wouldn’t have even known this was happening.

“Hey.” Sky clears his throat and he sees you snap in his direction. You’re eyes widen in shock and he’s made a witness to all your pain and frustration and he’s aware how vulnerable you’ve made yourself by not leaving them entirely. 

You knew that any of them could have followed you and didn’t actively try to hide yourself.

He doesn’t want to make it worse.

“Hug?” He opens his arms and tries to show how unjudgmental he’s being. He doesn’t want you to think he’ll think less of you. That any of the group would think less of you. It has to be why you just left. But he also knows that there is a time for talking and a time for silence.

This is not a time for talking.

You look at him a moment, your grip on yourself tightening by a fraction.

The spring is wound up even more. 

“You don’t have to talk about it fi you don’t want to.” Sky reaches out.

It explodes.

You run to him and collapse into his arm. He’s quick to wrap you up and hold you tight. As tight as he can manage without the fear of actually hurting you.

You don’t say anything and sob into his shoulder.

He lets you.

He doesn’t lessen his grip until you stop crying, and even then, he holds you until you pull away first.

You stay close to him until you’re breathing easier and the evidence of your breakdown lessens somewhat. At least until it’s not so obvious.

“Thank you Sky.”

“Any time.”

Legend

“Hey, The Old Man is looking for you.” Legend walks to where he knew you ran off.

It wasn’t any of his business to know where you were going or why.

It... tickled his curiosity however, he couldn’t help the want to follow you and make sure didn't just go off and die.

But he knew you could handle yourself if you needed to.

So he shrugged and let you be.

But now that he sees you....

He regrets it.

Your back is turned to him and you don’t turn to face him when he calls him. The air around you is heavy and somber and your completely still in posture. You’re leaning up against a tree with your arms crossed and with one leg crossed around the other.

It’s a blocked off stance that Legend is familiar with. What’s concerning to him is that there was no one around you to consider blocking off- unless you were blocking off the group... And he supposes that you did, since you left... But to still be blocking something off...

He hates to think about the other option.

You’re blocking off yourself.

He creeps closer, trying to be as quiet as possible, until he’s close enough to hear you gulp.

“Yeah I’ll-” Your voice cuts itself off with a slight crack. He knows what you’re doing. You’re trying to project your voice to be as normal as possible. “I’ll be there in a minute. I didn’t mean to be away for so long.”

Legend creeps around you until he’s facing you head on. He sees that your eyes are closed and shut tight and there are tear tracks on your cheeks. Not to mention that you have an iron grip on both your arms, enough so that your knuckles turn white.

Oh... Now Legend feel like a horrible friend.

The worst actually.

He knows he’s probably the last person to be here. He’s not at all equipped for the emotional...anything. But he’s also not inclined to go back and find someone who is.

This.... Looks really personal. He doubts that you want more people to know about this.

Legend takes a step closer and places a hesitant hand on your shoulder you.

You wince and slowly, oh so slowly, lift your head and open your eyes.

Legend gulps and puts his other hand on your opposite shoulder. “I’m not very good at this-”

Your legs give out.

Legend is quick to fall with you and pull you away from the tree and against his chest. You cry openly and loudly this time, clinging to him like your life depends on it. He’s your life line in this vulnerable moment and Legend feels.... Honored is not the word he wants to use. But he does feel a certain way about being the one here to share this moment with you, to be the one you trust with this, to be the one you’re clinging to.

Forget the others right now, he thinks as he begins to cling to you just as hard as you do him, this is more important.

Warrior

Warrior wakes up with a start one night. He’s confused and disoriented, the only thing he’s aware of right now is that something is wrong.

But it’s quiet, his brain registers a second later. So no monsters.

Weird. Why is he awake then?

He sits up slowly, trying to gather his surroundings and what could have woken him up.

Legend, Hyrule and Wind are accounted for, they’ve gathered together in a twisted pile of limbs that makes it difficult to tell where one starts and the other ends, but they look warm and comfy.

Wild and Twilight are both leaning up against Time, the Old Man has both of his arms around them and holding them close.

Sky and Four are by his side, Four is wrapped with Sky’s sailcloth and is snuggled close to the knight and wait a minute...

It was your watch. Where are you?

Warrior shoots up straighter and makes a quiet maneuver to his feet to not wake the others. He gets his sword and stands up turning in a circle to survey the whole camp.

You’re nowhere in sight.

A striking fear hits him right in the heart, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He’s immediately thinking the worst.

You’ve defected. You’ve betrayed them. You’ve been kidnapped. You’ve deserted them. You’re hurt. You’re dying.

He stops himself from screaming out your name.

He’s overreacting.

You’re fine.

Healthy even. You probably just had to relieve yourself and would be back just as soon. He can wait until you come back.

Warrior takes the post and sits by the fire. 

This is fine. You’re fine.

It’ll only a be a few minutes and then he’ll go right back to bed.

Minutes pass.

You don’t show up.

Warrior stands up again and tries to look around for you or any evidence as to where you might have gone. He doesn’t really find anything. He begins to panic again.

He makes the executive decision to move away from the camp and try to find you. He gets a little ways into the tree line and begins to travel in around the perimeter. The group will be fine for a minute. If he can’t find you then he’ll go wake the group up, start a search party and then go find you.

Then he hears something.

A sniffle.

A chocked sob.

Warrior should expect a wave of relief to wash over him at you both being nearby and alive but instead, a different sort of dread washes over him and he all but runs in the direction of the sound.

You’re not fine.

He finds you sitting against a tree, almost camouflaged with how dark it still is, with your legs hugged close to your chest and your head against your knees. 

He places his sword down and kneels next to you.

“Hey...” Warrior reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder. You don’t react to his presence and it breaks his heart. 

He sighs and takes a seat next to you. Warrior takes his arm and wraps it around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. His other arm comes up to cradle your head and his finds that his fingers gently take your hair and methodically begin to run through it.

Warrior resolves to stay next to you until you’re done, until you feel better.

And he does.

Wild

Wild was cooking lunch and minding his own business for a change when he sees you storm into the camp, ignore absolutely everyone, and continue power walking through until you’re gone again.

It stuns him enough that he actually drops his spoon into the pot, losing it to the boiling contents within.

Twilight hisses by his side. “That’s... unfortunate.”

“Watch this.” Wild points to the pot and stands up, not giving Twilight a chance to say his piece.

He storms after you, trying to match your pace before you get too far for him to track.

Wild considers himself lucky that you don’t go that far from the group, only just slightly beyond what would have been the perimeter of their camp.

You’re entirely wound up, hands by your face and pacing back and forth.

Words fail him in that moment and he watches as you press harder against yourself trying to calm yourself with deep breath.

It’s not working.

Wild calls your name quietly and you freeze up in your spot. “Are you ok?”

You lock eyes with him and crumble.

The Champion rushes to your side and catches you before your knees hit the floor. You curl into him and grip his tunic like a life line as the strongest sobs Wild’s ever heard just completely rack your body. He’s quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close and tight. One arm goes around your waist as the other cradles your head by his neck.

The position is familiar to him and the deja vu Wild’s experiencing is a kin to a smack to the face but he powers through.

It’s not about him right now.

He says nothing while you cry. He asks no questions and makes no claims. Comfort words don’t flow either however and the only sounds that reach his ears are your broken gasps and his own quiet breaths.

I’m here, he thinks. I’m here for you. It’s ok. Let it out.

He’s almost jealous for a moment about how you still have the energy to cry, to still find the strength and space to let out your emotions even after everything you’ve been through.

He’s cried for a long time, coming to terms with what’s happened to his home, his love, his friends, and at the same time he thinks he hasn’t cried enough.

But he’s has no more tears to shed.

He’s also has no shoulder to cry on.

But you need one right now and he’s not willing to leave someone he cares about alone in a time of grief.

Hopefully Twilight doesn’t let the food burn. Good food is always good for the soul.

He thinks that it’ll help when you’re done.

Part 2

[kashimos-hajime]

slipping away | b.b.

summary: and now, he’s not your bucky anymore.

WARNINGS: ANGST, hospital talk, swearing, vomitting,  pairing: amnesiac modern!bucky x gender neutral!reader word count: 5.3k

a/n: a small study on a long-term relationship and the strains and disagreements that come into it. it’s been a hot sec since i’ve posted any marvel stuff. still tryna get back into writing for bucky, but this is written for @mushyjellybeans​​. prompt is bolded :)

“I don’t think this is something we should be arguing about,” you mutter, throwing your phone down into the car’s cupholder as Bucky’s grip on the wheel only intensifies. You slide hands over your thighs, stretching your legs against the red carpet of his newly refurbished Mustang. If there’s one thing you haven’t argued about yet, it’s the renovated ‘87 Mustang Bucky’s done over with his father, not completely done yet, but still, it looks hell of a lot better than it did before. “It shouldn’t have been made an issue tonight, of all nights.”

“You wanted to make it an issue.”

“Because all you ever want to do is fight!”

“I don’t want to fight!” he exclaims, his voice still barely containing itself and you cross your arms, slinking into your seat as you toss him a glare. “I just asked if you could see yourself even considering marrying me, and you said no.”

“Because you said I could take my time with this decision,” you snap, eyes darting from his face to the tense paleness in his knuckles. The car is thrumming beneath your thighs, purring down the highway and you shift your gaze to the window. He always drives fast when he gets pissed. “Put your fucking seatbelt on. You always get so reckless when things don’t go your way.”

The barb is meant to dig in deep, and it does because he doesn’t put the seatbelt on to spite you.

“Bucky, seriously. Put the fucking seatbelt on,” you growl, head snapping to him again. He ignores you, and you sigh incredulously, planting your chin in your palm and glowering out into the night. “Fucker.”

He’s shutting you out. He’s shutting you out, and not listening, and you’re about to throw yourself out of this car if you don’t roll down the window.

So you do and as they travel over a speedbump coming off the highway. It’s green lights ahead, and you hope the twenty minute drive to his parents’ house is enough to let things cool off a titch, but you know it’ll only crop up because his mom will ask when Bucky’ll propose and—

Fuck. They’ll have to talk about it at home later tonight.

Bucky switches on a playlist on his phone to fill the uncomfortable silence and you think this is the kind of choice you don’t make when you’re eighteen. You never thought you might break up with Bucky because of the thought of marriage. When you were eighteen, you thought it would be something like cheating, or university, or some other factor that would force you apart.

But no, it’s marriage. A union.

Ironic, that is.

You bypass the first green light easily and in the distance, you can see the next. Leaning your head against the side of the car, you rest your arm along the window sill and just let the wind whip at your face, numb it until when you breathe, your lungs seem to freeze. The wind softens when they approach the intersection and Bucky slows down just enough to scan the road before heading forward to the next one. There are side streets feeding into the main road but there aren’t many cars. Not a lot of people drive in the suburbs on a Sunday night, and it’s been an easy drive otherwise. As they head for the last intersection between them and Bucky’s parent’s house, you spot the green light and feel Bucky speed up.

He’s eager to get out of this suffocating car, too. An uneasiness curls up in the pit of your stomach as you hear another car’s engine growling into the quiet night. Straightening up, you look around and spot no car in their direction coming close to the speed Bucky’s going. He’s pushing the speed limit, his hand fidgeting with the seatbelt as it tries to slot into the buckle and you reach forward with your closest hand and help it slot into place.

You don’t miss the way his lip twitches in thanks and you merely turn your head back to the road, watching with an empty mind, letting his music wash through you as the growling of that speeding engine somewhere down the street grows louder. You’re about to ask Bucky if he hears that when a car speeds through a red light from a side road.

“Bucky, stop!” The words are torn out of your throat as you throw your hands out in front of you.

His foot slamming the brakes, the harsh whine of the tires burning against asphalt rings in your ears before a sickening crunch sends you forward. Glass cracks, something thuds, and the last thing you know is blood slowly dripping your face, something smoking in the distance and the screams of someone before everything goes black.

.

The lights are bright and blurry as you let out a muffled groan.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

Your face is splitting pain and you groan, trying to turn your head but you’re frozen in place. Something’s wrapped tight around your neck, keeping you in place as someone shines a light into your eyes. Lungs seizing, you let out a choked cough, back arching off the bed as you try to raise your arm to the plastic mask digging into your cheeks. Something is prodding your stomach, something runs along your legs—there’s too much all at once and you try to shift away from whatever keeps touching you, but hands take you, keep you still.

“Try to stay still. I know it hurts, but you’re safe now.”

“Bucky.” His name slips past your lips, throat burning, but there’s no response. There are voices buzzing at the edge of your hearing and you blink, trying to clear your vision. Your head is spinning and you try to raise your hand weakly. Fingers take you by the wrist, gently ushering your arm back down to the bed. “Bucky.” Eyes slipping shut, your mind plays the crash over and over again. You’re nothing but a bystander.

Where are you, Bucky?

“We’re losing ‘em. Give me the paddles.”

Are you still here?

“Clear!”

Please. Stay for me.

.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“How’re you feeling, Y/N? C’mon, stay with us.”

Who? Steve, is that you?

“Bucky had to have brain surgery, Y/N. They said… they said it went well but they won’t know how well it really went until he wakes up.”

He’s alive? Oh, thank God. Thank you, thank you, thank you—

“But he’s getting stronger. He hasn’t woken up yet, but they think he’s getting stronger. Nat and Sam are sitting with him, now. We’re taking shifts to make sure the two of you aren’t alone.”

That’s nice of you, Steve. Thanks for being here.

“Oh, God, hey.”

Yeah?

“Hey, can you hear me?”

Loud and clear, Captain.

“Hey, nurse! I think they’re waking up!”

Eyes opening, you squint at the warm lamplight in the darkness of the room. Your throat is burning and your stomach is twisted, nausea swimming behind your eyeballs as your eyes flutter shut again. There’s something digging into your skull, your abdomen sore, and your whole body is wracked with an exhaustion that barely allows you to move. It’s a slow, dull ache all over you, pressing you deeper into the bed.

“How’re you feeling, Y/N?” one of the nurses asks quietly and you groan, voice cracking.

“I’m thirsty.” As they slowly raise you into a half-sitting position, your eyes barely open and you spot a shape in the corner. “Steve?” The shape moves closer and you spot golden hair gleaming in the lamplight and you laugh despite how much it aches in your chest. “Thought it was you.”

“Hey. How’re you feeling, huh?” Something nudges at your lips and you part your lips just enough for a straw to slip in. Sucking down water like you need air, you let out a silent groan. The water pushes down like a thick block of ice down a swollen throat as you manage to keep it down. “Feeling like turning away from the light?”

“Feel like I got run over by a truck,” you mutter, head sinking into the pillow and Steve’s relieved laugh soothes the ache between your temples. “Where is he?” Blinking, you see Steve’s face clear before you and his lips press together. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face looks a bit too splotchy, but you don’t point it out because it’s Steve and you love him. Your best friend’s trying to be strong as he tries to find a gentle way to put it.

“He’s asleep right now.” Asleep, you repeat dully in your head as Steve sits down by your bedside. “When you’re stronger, we’ll go see him, alright?”

“Okay.”

.

Bucky looks like he’s dead.

It’s the one thing you can’t help as you push yourself to his glass door. He’s inside, awake and talking to your friends inside and there’s a thickness to the air as he sits up straighter. Your whole body is still aching with a pounding in your stomach as you pause at the edge of the glass, frowning when Steve says something that makes Bucky shake his head.

It’s been only a day since the crash and you’ve just gotten strong enough to get up into a wheelchair, and although you’d insisted on wheeling yourself to his room, your nurse still stands a few feet away as you watch Natasha reach out a hand towards Bucky but he slaps it away, running his hands ragged over the bandages wrapped around his skull. Like he wants to pick himself apart because he’s missing something and you know.

Somehow you just know because there’s an emptiness in his gaze that spears right through you.

Tears already begin to bite at your eyes, and you open your mouth but not a sound comes out. He’s paler than a ghost and his expression is one of blank agony. He’s scrambling for something to hold onto and you think you can hear Steve beg, a quiet, trembling thing that frightens you because Steve doesn’t beg.

“So you remember nothing?”

“Nothing.”

The silence that follows hollows you. You turn to the nurse, you think her name is Linda, and silently ask her to take you away.

It takes a long time for someone to come find you. Blinds pulled closed, door shut, your room is drenched in darkness beside the lamp on your nightstand. You feel numb everywhere, but your heart is in pieces in your hands as you shove food down your ungrateful throat. Every bite feels like another bone broken and you stare blankly at the wall ahead of you.

“Bucky, stop!”

If you’d just been quicker—

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Blinking, you swallow the thick pudding, feel it stick to your throat as you let out a hoarse ‘yes’. Sam enters the room, eyes scanning the area and soaking in the bleak aura that is your recovery room. You set down the pudding on the tray beside your untouched lunch and blink again, turning your gaze away dismissively.

“What?”

“Bucky’s awake,” Sam says, closing the door behind him. You can see two other shapes outside your room as you cross your arms over your chest and lean back into your bed that’s frozen in it’s sitting position. You don’t want to look at him—have to look at him and watch his mouth form the words that’ll destroy you. “Doctors give him a clean bill of health. He’s going to have to come in for PT and checkups, but otherwise, he’s good beside a few deficits.”

“Yeah?” You feel sick, feverish. You feel like your stitches are splitting open with every second Sam doesn’t tell you the truth you know is bottled up inside him. “Anything else?”

“He doesn’t remember who you are.” But he knows you, you assume bitterly in your head and you finally look at Sam. He’s staring at you with something you might think it's pitiful and it disgusts you because you don’t want to be pitied. You don’t want anything except Bucky and you can’t have him.  “He doesn’t remember anything after graduating high school, so… that’s seven years he doesn’t remember.”

Seven years.

Seven years of his life gone like smoke.

“Anything else?” you grit out between clenched teeth. Sam’s eyebrows rise but you merely set your jaw and meet that incredulous gaze of his.

“They don’t know whether or not it’s going to go away, they don’t know why it’s that time span, but it just is. They say maybe the amnesia will go away but it's a chance, and he has to regain his strength. So he’s going to have to go through a lot of therapy. It’ll help if he has a support system, you know?”

“Okay.”

You don’t mean to sound cold, but you do, because if you’re anything but, you will shatter. You know Sam wants you to jump at the chance, jump out of your bed and run up to see Bucky. You think Sam might hope that the instant he sees you, all of it will come back like something out a fucking fairytale but this isn’t a fairytale.

You’re not enough to bring him back. You’re not a miracle worker.

Tears are clotting in your throat and it’s becoming hard to breathe when you add, “Is there anything else, Sam?” He’s clearly taken aback but you can’t bring yourself to care about Sam in this moment as you grab your banana pudding again and swirl your spoon within just to make yourself look busy. You look from the yellow goop to him, a smile pulling strangely into your cheeks.

His eyes flitter from your untouched meal to your face, and he shakes his head.

“Let us know if you wanna see him, I guess,” he murmurs and you keep that tight smile on your face until he leaves. When the door clicks shut, you toss the pudding back onto your tray, grab the plastic receptacle the nurse left on your nightstand, and throw up everything.

Water, pudding, breakfast, it burns its way up your throat as you try to keep yourself quiet. You can hear your friends talking outside. Struggling to keep yourself quiet, you choke, spitting saliva out of your mouth as you grab the water from your food tray, swishing it in your mouth and falling back into the bed.

Your whole body clenches as you spit out the water and rinse your mouth again. Every movement is an aching thing as you set the receptacle down on your nightstand and close your eyes.

Your wait until you’re sure your friends are gone before you break.

You fall apart slowly, like pieces of you peeling away until you’re nothing more than your broken heart. The sobs that wrack your body are relentless and you shove your forearm into your mouth to muffle your cries. You want to bite into your skin. You want to distract yourself from the agony tearing you to shreds. You want to feel anything but the pain.

Tears sweep into your hair, cloud your vision and your whole face floods with heat as you try to breathe through the pain. You’re cleaved into pieces on that bed, eyes squeezed shut as the tears keep flowing, and your throat burns.

Shoulders shaking, you suck in gasping breaths as your hand crawls over your face, smearing tears across your cheeks, fingers digging into your skin. You’re suffocating and behind closed eyes all you can see is your Bucky, launched through the windshield. Your Bucky, bleeding as you reach for him but you can’t. Your Bucky, left behind on the scene because they extracted you first and you’re screaming, screaming for him to be alive, and then it’s your Bucky, smiling and laughing and whispering confessions, and he’s crying and then he’s sick with the flu and he’s finished his bachelor’s, and he has flour on his cheek, and—

And then it’s your Bucky, shouting, begging, your Bucky with his back turned, your Bucky frowning and there are new lines in his face, and new questions that never would’ve cropped up, and it’s your fault, your fault, your fault; damaged, damaged, damaged.

Your Bucky slipping away between your fingers.

And now, he’s not your Bucky anymore.

Your fault, your fault, your fault, a voice you can’t shut up in your head chants quietly.

You’re inclined to agree.

.

You sit in the cafeteria, watching as lunch hour draws to its close. You’re nothing but cracked glass slapped together with duct tape and it’s beginning to peel.

It’s only been a day since your world has fallen apart around you and you haven’t spoken to anyone. There’s nothing to say.

Natasha pokes half-heartedly at what’s left of her salad beside you as you stare blankly at the napkin holder. Your own lunch tray is empty because you’ve forced it down your own throat, but every bite had been bland—nothing but a soft mush in your mouth.

“Y/N,” your best friend begins, and your eyes drag dismissively towards her. Her blue eyes are soft, eyebrows drawn together as she sighs. “Don’t you think you should at least see him?”

“Why? He doesn’t even know who I am,” you mutter, dragging your arms towards yourself and crossing your arms over your chest. A heaviness pulls at your shoulders. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Natasha scolds. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Why? It’s not a secret we were basically on the brink of breaking up and it’s not like you’ve told him who I was. Told him that I even existed,” you spit coldly, sinking in your chair, Your gaze drifts off to the little fake plant decorating the cafeteria table and you think, How lucky you are to be forever. “You know, at least this way, he doesn’t get hurt.”

“Except he is hurting,” she says. “His life has been wiped clean and he has no idea what to do next.”

“Get better. Move on.” The words crawl out of your mouth, torturous, and Natasha shakes her head, frustrated, but you don’t care. You’re sick of feeling like this, but you can’t help it. You can’t help feeling half-dead and exhausted and the need to look over your shoulder constantly has become second nature because you don’t want to see the man you love as nothing more than a ghost. “What do you want me to say, Nat? He wasted seven years on me and I couldn’t even say yes to marrying him. I couldn’t give him the one thing he really wanted and he gave me everything.”

“That’s not what matters. What matters is that he loves you and just because he doesn’t remember, it doesn’t mean it’s not real. He knows you’re out there. He knows he loved someone because Bucky has so much love to give, you know that.”

“He was going to leave, Nat,” you tell her quietly. The words drag against your throat like a cigarette against skin and it burns so much you have to close your eyes against the pain. “I know it. He was done.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“He was.” You never needed eyes to see it. You know him in a way no one else does. You know that every time he looked at you, he wanted the future, and it was something he couldn’t pry out of you. “He had one foot out the door last night, so it’s a fucking blessing he doesn’t remember.”

“But you miss him.”

The words ring you hollow.

“Of course I fucking miss him. What kind of question is that?” you ask with half a forced laugh and your chest aches so much you think it might burst. “What kind of question is that?” you repeat, softer, and the laughter is gone because you want to melt away. You’ve missed Bucky for ages.

“Then, maybe you should fight for him. Maybe, you should see this as your second chance,” Nat whispers just as the door opens to the cafeteria and your head jerks up to see Steve push someone in on a wheelchair and she stands immediately. Your eyes find his pale figure before you can help yourself and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself present.

He’s better, although a bit unsteady, and he’s regained some colour but he’s still pale. He looks sick to his stomach with every second he stays awake. Natasha heads over to take the tray from Steve’s hands and retreats back to your table, setting it down in the space on the other side of you. Once Bucky slides into the empty spot beside you, you barely manage a slight smile before picking up your fork and pretending to be interested in your own lunch.

“This is Y/N,” Natasha says and your lungs spasm when you meet his blue gaze. They’re bright, warm but tired, and you swallow, trying to formulate an appropriate response. How long has it been since Bucky—your Bucky—looked at you like that? “We, uh, we were just chatting while I was waiting for you guys.”

“Hey.”

“I’m James,” he says, textbook because that’s how he meets every new face, and if you think you remember eighteen-year-old James Buchanan Barnes, his next words will be: “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

Like you said, textbook.

You drop your fork and shake his outstretched hand, ignoring how warm he is, and it’s like history is repeating itself.

“Nice to meet you.” You want to smile and the corner of your mouth lifts as Natasha grabs her lunch tray and gets up.

“Sam’s probably waiting for us to get him some coffee. He has a shift starting soon,” she says with a pointed look at you. Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and smiles at Bucky when he sends him an unsure look.

“We’ll be back in a jiff, Buck,” Steve says. “Y/N’ll take fine care of you.”

“Uh, okay.” Bucky’s eyebrows quirk and as your two friends leave, you can’t help the anger licking at your insides. You hate the feeling of his gaze on you so you resort to staring after your traitorous companions. “Sorry about that. I can go, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” you dismiss it quietly, resigning yourself to your fate. It’s not like Bucky can go without someone else’s help and his nurse is chatting to yours in the corner of the cafeteria. You don’t want to bother her.  You’ll yell at your friends later. Right now, you just want to sleep it off. “Natasha’s nice.”

“Yeah, she’s like that once you get to know her,” Bucky returns, digging into his mashed potatoes. You pretend you don’t notice how he lowers his head as much as he can so not too much food is lost on its quivering journey to his mouth. His hand is so visibly unsteady, it aches to watch but you know he won’t want your help. “What are you here for? You look a bit banged up.” His eyes dart to the bruises along your arms and your smile grows at the concern laced behind a curious question.

“Got into a crash.” you say with half a shrug. You’ve grown used to the bruises by now. “Wasn’t too serious for me. Just a bit of a scratch on my liver.”

“Oh, me, too. I had a partial splenectomy” he says. “My brain got the worst of it, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, can’t remember a single thing after eighteen. So, that’s seven years ago?” he says it like he’s desperately trying to remember and your smile flickers. His face is wrought with distress now that their friends are gone, and his lips are pressed into a tight smile. “Glad I still kept with the same people, though.”

“Yeah.” He brings a scoop of mashed potatoes to his mouth and his smile sinks into your gut when he notices you’re not eating. “Are you hungry?” You blink at him, at his offer. He even looks younger without the burden of your time together.

“No, I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insist before clearing your throat. Your gaze goes from your lap to Bucky just eating and you try to formulate the words you want to say into a coherent sentence. Do you remember even part of who I am? Can you even see me? “Uhm, do you… do you, like, remember a bit of what you’ve lost?” Your eyes widening, you put a hand over your mouth and duck your head. “Oh, that sounds stupid. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Bucky smiles again, easier, as if he’s happy to talk about it, and it’s so startlingly bright your heart flips in your chest. You duck your head and grab the glass of orange juice just so it doesn’t seem like you’re just watching him eat. It’s sweet in your parched mouth. “I get what you mean. Uh, no. It’s like an empty slate,” he says and you don’t know whether or not feeling so fucking relieved makes you a shitty person or not. “I think I know time has passed, but when I try to think of those years, nothing comes up.”

You’re quiet for a long time, letting it sink in. So, he doesn’t remember the bad at all. The pain, the screaming, the empty beds and silent dinners, and you think you could cry from relief and cry from how you’ll never hear him call you dolly again.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes flickering from his food to you, and your shoulders fall at those eyes. You’d fallen in love with those eyes first. They grounded you when your world was toppling—ever so steady, so collected. Now, they’re weary, lost, and you know it’s your turn.

Reaching forward, you lean on your forearm and place your other hand over his wrist. His hand, on instinct, flips over and your hand falls into his so easily. Your skin is burning at the contact as his fingers wrap over your palm.

“I’m sorry,” you utter quietly, choked out and raw, and his eyebrows knit together as they run over your face. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Uh, it’s okay,” he says with a lilt of his lips. He’s trying so hard to be happy.

“You don’t have to lie.”

The hand holding the spoon tightens, knuckles blanching and you smile softly. That’s your Bucky, trying so hard to keep it in. You scoot your chair closer, not letting go of his hand and he sucks in a harsh breath. You can hear it tremble in his throat as you sit down close enough that your knees touch and you tilt your head to catch his gaze.

This could be a fresh start, a voice in your head whispers. He doesn’t remember the pain you brought him. You could disappear.

“It’s okay. I’m nobody,” you tell him quietly. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” He blinks, lips trembling and pale with how hard he’s attempting to keep the cries in before he drops the utensil in his shaking hand and he brings his palms to his face, hiding himself away as in shame but you only chew on your bottom lip, wrap your arms around him.

He leans into you as if on instinct and you suck in a shuddering breath at his soft weight against you. You’re holding the love of your life. Almost.

Cradling his head against your chest, you let him sob as his shaking body shrinks in your arms. His hands wrap around your arm, fingers like knives digging into your flesh. They’re talons that sink and drag down, falling limpy into his lap, and you let your eyes close, simply using your free hand to brush through his hair.

“It hurts so much,” he whimpers, his hot breath against your arm as he pushes the words out, gulping breaths filling the silence and you feel tears slip down your cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t remember anything. I can’t do anything. I can’t…”

“I know.” You pull your chin back, admiring the mess in your arms and you smile for a moment as he lifts his head up and his gorgeous eyes are glistening with tears. He lowers his head again, drawing back in your arms to wipe at his face with weak, shaking hands and you take the napkin to help him.

You gently wipe his cheeks down and his cheeks are burning to the touch.

He’s blushing.

“God, here I am,” he begins miserably, “sobbing on someone I just met. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The words come out hushed and you smile, running your fingers over his hair again because you know that’s what he likes, and his smile is barely a ghost, but it’s there and that’s all that matters.

“It’s fine. I’m a great shoulder to cry on,” you joke and his smile grows just slightly. “Well, at least it’s better than my first impression on my… ex,” you say, and your throat cinches shut as he arches an eyebrow. You pull your arms back towards you and pick up your fork hesitantly. He nods, eyes focused on you, and you sink the fork into the mashed potatoes, bringing a bite into your mouth.

“How’d you meet them?”

“Uh… at university. First day, freshman mixer or something. I was a bit drunk.” Fresh-faced, doe-eyed Bucky Barnes in a vest and jeans bumping into you. Still a picture perfect moment in your mind where you met eyes with him and didn’t want to be a goner but you were, no matter how much denial was there. “He bumped into me, spilled his drink all over me, and all I could think was, ‘What a handsome guy.’”

“Was he?” His whole face lights up, like he’s genuinely invested in this, and your smile grows, bittersweet as you nod. His smile grows sly and you want to scream. “Better looking than me?”

“I, uh—” You clear your throat— “No. Not better looking than you.”

“So, what’d you say? Or what’d he say?” Bucky asks, sniffing, and you watch as he grabs his spoon again, other hand reaching for the tissue. He blows his nose and you grab some napkins from the napkin holder for him. He dips his head in thanks as you lean against the table.

“Well, he was stumbling through his apology and I just let him finish.” Your body fills with warmth as you remember his embarrassed smile, the way he shoved his baseball cap farther down his head, chin tucked to his chest, trying to hide that face. “When he was done, I opened my mouth to say something polite but what came out was ‘You look like someone I’d very much like to kiss’.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?” you ask, smiling.

“Kiss him.”

“Yeah.”

He smiles, then, happy for you for a moment before he remembers ‘ex’ and then there’s a silence in the cafeteria.

“Do you love him still?” Bucky asks quietly. His gaze is cast off, some far off corner that you don’t see, and you realize you’re still close to him. Close enough to smell the sickness clinging to his skin, the sweat. He smells like an antiseptic grave of all the memories lost.

“Yeah. I didn’t believe in love until I met him,” you say softly, watching as Bucky raises a trembling spoon to stab at his potatoes. It’s you. It’s you. It’s you. Your heart is screaming, but your mind is a muzzle. “I wish he was here.”

“I wish he was here, too.” He blinks and it’s like he’s back with you again, gaze on yours. “I wish he was here for you. You deserve a shoulder to cry on, too.”

You barely croak out, ‘Thank you’.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

cats and babies

This is the first piece I’ve ever written so if anyone sees this be nice pls and thank u

There could be typos/ weird formatting, this was typed entirely on my phone

I also feel the need to say all of my medical knowledge is from Grey’s anatomy and googling things I saw on grey’s anatomy so this is probably not that accurate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

Word count: 6,160

Warnings: Car accidents, blood, angst (but with a v happy ending ofc bc sad endings are Not For Me), hospitals/medical stuff, again a very happy ending, I would like to emphasize the happy ending so no one gets scared away from reading this, did I mention there’s a happy ending?

"So, what'd'ya say? Chinese?"

They were deciding where to go for dinner after a long day of touring their favorite art museums. Harry and Y/N had been dating about two years now, and (cheesy as it sounds) they loved each other more and more every day. 

"Chinese sounds great," Y/N smiled, glancing over at Harry. The golden sun reflected off his curls, making him look absolutely angelic. 

He smiled, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into full blown laughter. She was confused. "What is it?" What's so hilariou- eyes on the road!!" 

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed. "Nothing, just- do you-" he breathed slowly, calming down a bit. "Do you remember the first time we had Chinese food? She blushed, laughing with him at the memory. 

Their first date had been... disastrous, to say the least. They had both been nervous, but both trying to act confident. They had decided on a nice, fancy, black tie restaurant, and Y/N was excited. When he picked her up in a limousine, she was hardly unable to contain herself.

However, their plan fell apart almost from the beginning. When they got to the place, a big red sign read "CLOSED FOR REPAIRS"

"Ooook... that's... weird," Y/N had grimaced. "What should we do now?" 

"Uh... we could... try the one a few blocks over? Yeah, that's a good place too, I know the owner. He always has a table for me. That'll work!"

Y/N hasn't quite cared about the wrench thrown into their plans. She really liked Harry so far, and she though he liked her too. So she chirped "Sure! Sounds great."

She hadn't noticed how embarrassed he looked when he opened the car door for her. He couldn't believe his luck! He was finally on a date with a girl he really liked, really wanted to impress, and the best restaurant in town closed with no notice? How could this happen? But he shook it off, climbing in after her and alerting the driver of their change of plans. 

When they got to the next place, Harry immediately got worried. It looked very crowded, and while the owner usually held a table for Harry, it didn't seem so tonight. 

He pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Luke! Yeah, I'm great! Listen, do you by any chance have a table-" He paused, and then his face fell. His voice kept its happy tone, though. "No, no problem at all, I understand. Yeah, for sure, a different night. Thank you!" He hung up, looking more than a little dejected. 

Y/N put a hand on his arm. "It's ok, I promise. I swear I didn't just agree to go out with you for the fancy food. We can go anywhere, 'Im really not upset!" 

"Agh, thank you. You're very sweet. But really, you deserve a fancy place. Only it seems everyone in the world is determined to make sure we don't get to do that," He huffed. "Maybe..." And he pulled out his phone again. He glanced at her curious face. "How do you feel about Chinese?" He asked sheepishly.

  Y/N beamed. "I love it," and there was no trace of insincerity on her face. 

"Right then, Chinese it is!" he found the closest place on his phone, telling the driver the address.

After a few minutes of eating, Y/N looked around the table for a fork. She could handle big foods, like the chicken, with the chopsticks, but definitely not the rice. 

Harry asked what she needed. She was a bit embarrassed to tell him she wasn't good enough with chopsticks to eat her rice, but he was kind about it. He helped show her how to use them without making too big of a mess. Still, she dropped half her plate on a napkin in her lap. 

At the end of their meal, Y/N burst out laughing when she picked up her napkin. Harry looked at her, confused, until she placed what was basically a full serving of rice on the table. He was also unable to contain his laughter, to which Y/N responded by throwing a few grains of rice at him. 

He threw a balled up napkin at her, and she blew a straw wrapper in his face. This escalated until she splashed what was left of her water glass on him. There was stunned silence for a moment, and Y/N thought she went too far. Then he looked at her and burst into laughter. She sighed in relief, laughing with him. "I'm sorry, that was too much," but she couldn't keep the smile off her face at the sight of the water dripping down his face.

"A little water never hurt anyone," he said, his eyes twinkling as he splashed her with his own water. 

Y/N was pulled from the happy memory of their first date when the car skidded on the ice. 

"Careful... if I'd known it was this slippery we'd have found a closer place," she said nervously.

"Nah, we've talked about this, the only good place is the one two towns over. I understand you love Minnesota and all but it is NOT the best place to find good Chinese food," he smirked.

"I will not have this Minnesota slander, not in this house. Maybe you're the issue, with your sophisticated taste and all," Y/N said, laughing at his disgruntled look. "Sophisticated? I took you for Chinese food on our first date. Nothing about that screams "sophisticated" to me." 

"Yeah, but we were dressed VERY fancy. That counts," Y/N laughed. 

"Oh really? that's what makes me sophisticated? alright then, you're right, I'm, extremely-" 

The car slid just a little too far for Y/N's liking. 

"Harry, are you sure it's safe to be driving on this? I think it's getting worse, and- look, it's starting to rain." She checked the weather on her phone. "Yeah, it's at that weird temperature where it's halfway freezing. The road will be worse on the way back." 

"I think we're ok," He reassured her. "The car has 4 wheel drive, and I'll go slow. I think the biggest danger is us not getting our Chinese food," he smiled at her. "Uh, no," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "I'd say the biggest danger is crashing and dying in a firey car wreck." 

"Always so negative, Y/N," Harry laughed. "We're perfectly fine-" he spoke too soon, because right then the car slid again. A lot, this time. They almost slid right through a stop sign. 

Y/N clutched the armrest. 

"We're almost there, you better not kill me before I get my Chinese food, Styles. I finally know how to eat rice with chopsticks without..." She stopped halfway through her sentence because she was laughing so hard. "Without... dropping all of it on my lap." 

They dissolved into giggles, especially when Harry said, "got any more water to throw at me?" 

The car slid once more, and Y/N felt her pocket nervously. She had bought a ring for Harry. It was nothing too special, but it was the one year anniversary of the first time they had gone to an art museum together. She wanted to commemorate that with something special, so she had gone to the museum gift shop and found the perfect ring. It had a silver band, a little thinner than the rest of his, and a labradorite stone set into it. She thought it would complement his other jewelry nicely. 

She kept her hand on the little box in her pocket, careful not to make Harry suspicious. 

He wasn't looking at her, though; he was completely focused on the road. His hands gripped the wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Y/N felt a little more nervous seeing this. Harry was an excellent driver, and he usually had one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers. He only gripped the wheel this tightly when he felt unsafe driving. 

Y/N looked out at the darkening sky. She was not a fan of storms, especially ones that make the roads icy. Like a true Minnesotan, she knew that under the right circumstances, a bit of rain could make it nearly impossible to drive.

A car sped past them, almost veering into their lane when it went over a particularly icy patch. 

"Harry, really, I don't know if we should keep going," Y/N said nervously.

"I know, but I'm not sure what we should do. I think it's safer to just keep going and hope the rain stops. We're about 10 minutes away, but if we turn around it's almost a 2 hour drive." 

"Yeah... you're right. It's better to just keep going. Just... go slow," Y/N said, biting the inside of her cheek. 

"Stop doing that," Harry chided in a singsong voice. 

"How can you even tell? you weren't even looking at me," Y/N laughed. 

"I know how you are when you're nervous, Y/N. Biting your cheek won't do anything but hurt." 

Y/N smiled. She had never had someone care this much about her. Someone who knew her this well, almost better than she knew herself. She was so hopelessly in love... 

She was so busy thinking about what she would say when she gave him the ring that she didn't hear the horn blaring. She looked up just in time to see the truck driving straight down the middle of the road towards them. 

She could tell instantly the driver of the truck couldn't do anything. He was sliding on the ice like they had before. Harry jerked the wheel to the right, moving the car out of the way. 

It wasn't enough.

Y/N heard a horribly loud crashing noise, and then there was nothing. 

Y/N shot straight up out of the bed she was in, gasping. Someone put their hands on her shoulders, trying to soothe her and get her to lay back down. She pushed the hands away as her vision came into focus. She was in a room filled with people and noise and 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦.

She panicked for a minute before she realized where she was. Clearly an Emergency Room. There were 4 doctors and nurses around her, checking her eyes, ears, reflexes, pulse, breathing. She threw her arms out to try and get some space. One of the nurses caught her hand, holding it in both of hers. 

"Y/N, you're alright. You're in the hospital. You were in a car accident. Do you have any pain? Whe-"

"Harry! Where's Harry?? I need to see him, I have to, I have to go-" She stuttered as she pushed the doctors away from her, trying to get up again.

  The same nurse held her back.

"Y/N, we need to make sure you're ok before you can get up. If you let us help, you'll be able to see Harry sooner. Can you lay back? Do you have any pain?"

  "No, no I'm fine, I'm ok! I need to see Harry, I need to know if he's ok! Please!" Y/N looked frantically around at the doctors, hoping one of them knew something. 

The doctor who appeared to be in charge ordered, "Someone go get an update on the guy they brought in with her. See how he's doing." 

"Thank you, thank you so much," Y/N breathed, finally laying back. 

"There we go. Do you have any pain Y/N?" The nurse asked again. 

"No, I'm totally fine. I'm- " Y/N brushed her hair out of her face. When are brought her arm down, she saw that her hand was covered in blood. "I'm bleeding!" She cried, panicking. 

"It's ok, it's not too bad," one of the doctors said, examining her head. "It looks like it'll need maybe 5 or 6 stitches. We can fix that up right away." 

Y/N closed her eyes. How had this happened? Harry moved the wheel, she knew he did. How had they crashed this badly? 

The doctor who had been sent to check on Harry came back into the room. Y/N snapped her eyes open, looking at her expectantly.

"He is stable. That's the important thing right now. However, he's been pretty badly injured. He broke his femur and clavicle. He has a small brain bleed, and he is covered in cuts from the glass. He's also pretty bruised from the airbag and seatbelt. He is intubated, because he was having some trouble breathing. He might need surgery to repair the brain bleed, but right now they're waiting and hoping it will get better on it's own." 

Y/N exhaled. "But... he's ok? I mean... he's alive?" 

The doctor smiled. "Yes. He's doing ok." 

Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. She noticed she was crying but she didn't do anything to wipe her tears away. 

"Ok, Y/N," said the doctor stitching up her face. "I'm finished here. You need to stay here for a little while longer so we can monitor you. There is an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated. If you need anything, call for a nurse. Also, and this is important, don't get out of this bed without someone helping you. You've been through a lot today, but the adrenaline is wearing off, which might make you feel shaky. Do you need anything right now?" 

"No, I'm... I'm fine. Thank you," Y/N said, wiping her eyes. 

After he left her bed, she felt her pocket. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the ring still there. Then she mentally kicked herself for being worried about a silly ring when Harry was... no. She wouldn't let herself think that. Harry was 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. They were both alive, and they were both ok.

About an hour later, a nurse came in. After confirming that she felt totally fine, Y/N anxiously asked when she could see Harry. 

"I'm sorry, the ICU is family only," The nurse said. She really did look sorry, but this did nothing to make Y/N feel better. 

"I- I'm his wife!" Y/N said quickly, not even thinking. She most definitely was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 his wife. She wasn't even his fiancee. She slipped the ring from her pocket onto her finger, then held up her hand to the nurse. 

The nurse pretended not to notice the fact that the ring hadn't been there before, and that the ring was easily a size too big. "Oh! Then of course you can see him," She said, helping Y/N off the bed slowly. "I'll take you to his room." 

"Thank you so much," Y/N said, taking her first few steps slowly. 

"Careful- you're still attached to this IV pole," The nurse said, adjusting the tubing so it wasn't in her way. "You can hold onto it for support- yes, just like that." 

Y/N got more nervous with every step towards Harry's room. What would he look like? Would he be in pain? Would he know who she was? Would he... be mad at her? 

When she walked into his room, she almost started crying all over again. He looked, well, awful. He was covered in cuts and bruises. He had several tubes and wires connected to him, as well as a large tube taped in his mouth. He had a cast on his leg and a sling on his arm.

Y/N looked at the nurse who was taking his vitals. 

"How is he?" She asked in a small voice. 

"He's ok for now. He is stable, which is very good. He's unconscious, but we hope to see him wake up soon. You can sit with him, hold his hand, talk to him. If you need anything, just press the call button." 

She left, leaving Y/N and Harry alone. This time, she really did start crying. This was awful, and it was all her fault. She was the one who wanted to go for Chinese food. She was the one who picked today, the first wintery stormy day of the year to go for a long drive. And now.. 

"Harry... Harry I'm so sorry," Y/N said, sniffling. She held onto his hand, the one that wasn't attached to a broken collarbone.  "This is all my fault, and now you're... and I got off with nothing but a cut on my forehead, and it's not fair and I'm so sorry," She let out a sob. 

She continued on like this, crying and talking and crying some more, for a few hours, before she fell asleep in the chair next to him. She woke up around 9 the next morning with a stiff next and puffy eyes. She looked at his face, still covered in bruises, and kissed his hand. The nurse came in to check on him and told Y/N to go get some breakfast, reminding her that she couldn't care for Harry if she didn't care for herself. Y/N reluctantly agreed, going as fast as she could. The nurse had disconnected her IV sometime in the night, and she could move much faster without it. 

She got back to the room with her bagel and resumed her position in the chair right next to Harry. She talked to him as if he was awake, imagining she heard his beautiful voice responding to her. 

She had managed to keep the crying to a minimum today. She kept telling herself that if- no, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 Harry woke up, she didn't want to look like a monster with red eyes. 

Her phone had been found by some paramedics, so she found Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone online and began to read to him. It was a little weird, but Harry loved these books, especially when he was sick.

Y/N was used to just imagining she heard his voice with her in the room, but suddenly she heard something that wasn't her. She gasped. 

"He's choking!! Nurse!!" She yelled for help, frantically pushing the call button. "Help!" 

Several nurses rushed in. One ushered Y/N back and out of the room, telling her to give them space to work. 

"What's- What's happening? What are they doing??" Y/N tried to go back in, but the nurse held her shoulders. 

"He's trying to breathe over the tube, Y/N. That's a very good sign. It means he's breathing on his own," The nurse said, trying to keep Y/N calm. 

"Does- does that mean he's waking up?" Y/N asked, not wanting to get her hopes up. 

"Not for sure, but it's a very good sign."

After a few minutes, the nurses came out of Harry's room, looking excited. "Y/N, he's awake! He's very groggy and can't speak yet, but he is definitely awake. You can go in and sit with him again if you'd like. We gave him some more medicine for the pain, so you have about 15 minutes to talk before he starts going a little..." She made a swirling motion next to her head. 

Y/N didn't care if he was high on morphine. She just cared that he was alive and awake and didn't... hate her. 

Harry was laying in the bed, looking at her with great concern in his tired eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Y/N rushed over to take his hand. 

"It's ok, they said you might not be able to talk for a little while yet. It's ok, I'm here, it's ok," Y/N said, smoothing his hair. 

Harry cleared his throat, coughing. He gestured toward the water cup on his side table. 

"Oh, of course." Y/N picked up the pitcher and poured him a glass, setting it in his good hand. 

He raised the straw shakily to his lips as   Y/N watched carefully to make sure he didn't spill. She gently lifted the cup out of his hands when he held it up to her.

His small smile was enough to make Y/N cry all over again.

"Oh, Harry," She cried, holding her head in her hands. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry this happened, I did this to you- you almost died!" 

"W-what?"

Y/N whipped her head up. "You can talk?" She said, overjoyed.

Harry coughed and spoke again. "Of course I can talk." 

His voice was rough and it sounded like it hurt everytime he spoke, but it was the most beautiful thing Y/N had ever heard. 

"What are you talking about, it's all your fault?" He rasped, looking utterly confused. "What even happened?" 

With tears leaking from her eyes, Y/N explained all she knew, which still wasn't much. Harry remembered everything as she told him, both their eyes watering as her voice shook.

"Why... why're you crying? Does your forehead hurt? I can call the nurse..." He reached for the call button.

"No, no, I'm ok," She took his hand in hers. "I'm just so sorry, because it honestly is my fault, I'm the one who wanted Chinese food and picked 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 of all days to drive 2 hours away and-" 

He cut her off by raising his finger to her lips. 

"It's not your fault... it's mine. I'm the one who convinced you the only good Chinese food is so far away and I'm the one who was driving. I couldn't keep you safe..." 

Harry had never looked so sad. 

"No!" Y/N exclaimed. "Do you not see me right now? I'm absolutely fine, you did keep me safe. You swerved out of the way... wait a minute," She paused, realization hitting her. "You didn't think we could avoid the truck at all, did you? You knew it would hit us either way, but you made sure it would hit as far from me as possible." 

Harry looked down. "I figured you're more important than me, I had to do what I could."

"Harry Styles!" Y/N whisper-yelled. "If you weren't so 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 I would 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬 you right now! How could you do that? How could you put yourself in 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 like that?" 

"Oh, that's actually why I got so injured, because I knew you'd try to hit me for this," He smiled charmingly at Y/N. She just scowled. 

"Did you really expect me to just say, "oh well, guess she's a goner! bye Y/N! nice knowin' ya!" No, of course not. Of course I'd put myself in danger for you. Always." 

Y/N's lip trembled. "Why do you have to be so romantic after you do such stupid things? it makes it really hard to stay mad at you," She said, wiping her eyes. 

"Yeah, that was the goal there," He laughed. 

Then he caught sight of the ring on her finger.

"That's pretty, when did you get that?" He mock gasped. "Did you get engaged while I was in a coma?" 

“No," Y/N laughed. "It's funny actually. I bought it from the museum gift shop. I wanted to give it to you as a present, for the anniversary of the first time we went there together. I was going to give it to you over Chinese food, and it was going to be 𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 and 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘤 and 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭." 

Harry smiled. "That's lovely of you, darling. Why... why's it on your finger though?" 

"Oh! right." Y/N sheepishly pulled the ring off her finger. "They wouldn't let me see you because I'm not family, so I threw it on and said we were married," She said, blushing furiously. "Sorry about that." 

Harry smiled. "Why are you sorry?" 

"Um... we're 𝘯𝘰𝘵 married... so... I don't know, I just thought you might think it's weird, or, something..."  Y/N finished lamely. She held the ring out to him. 

"Happy anniversary." 

"Why don't you keep it?" 

"Right, of course, you don't need a reminder of this day," Y/N slipped the ring back into her pocket, on the verge of tears because she messed up 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

"No, that's not... I meant, why don't you keep it... on your finger?" 

She pulled the ring out of her pocket again, looking confused. "Why?" 

Harry plucked it out of her hand, holding it up to her. "Because I want you to marry me," He said, slipping it onto her finger with the sweetest smile she had ever seen. 

Y/N smiled at him. "It's ok, Harry, you're very high on all the painkillers right now. I won't hold you to anything you say," She laughed a little. 

"I'm not... why would I be on painkiller... oh yeah," Harry grinned, looking around. "I remember why I'm high right now." 

"Riiight." 

"I might be high, but I still want to marry you," he said is a singsong voice. 

Y/N laughed. "Harry, why don't we talk about this when you're sober, ok?"

Harry pouted. "Please? Please marry me? I love you, and you're so pretty, and you're so nice to animals..." He started crying, apparently at how nice Y/N was to animals. "And... a cat! We can get a cat together!" 

"Harry, baby, don't cry, of course we can get a cat," She gently wiped the tears from his bruised face. 

"I won't stop crying until you say you'll marry me," Harry said defiantly, gripping    Y/N's arm. "Pleeeaaase?" 

"Ok, Harry, yes, I will marry you. Sure. You can stop crying now, ok?" 

"That's good, I'm glad, because you're my favorite person, and I looooove you, and you're my baaaaby..." 

At this point Harry was just singing random words, usually circling back to "baaaaby" and "looooove youuuu". 

Y/N felt happy for the first time in what felt like years, while really it had been less than 24 hours. 

Eventually, he wanted to see the ring again. Y/N held up her hand and he gasped. 

"It's so beautiful! I'll buy you a real one though, a real ring for our real wedding. Then we'll get a real house and have real babies, and a real cat," He said, with the dopiest grin Y/N had ever seen. 

"Oh? We'll have babies, huh? How many babies will we have?" 

"3," He answered quickly. "Two girls and a boy. No... 4. Two of each. That way they won't team up one of them." 

"Oh, sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Y/N laughed.

  "Every single day since we started dating, you know why?" 

"Why?" 

He motioned for her to lean closer.

  "Because I looooove you," He sang in her ear.

She pulled back, kissing his swollen cheek. 

"You're a sweetheart," She said affectionately. 

"So're you," He smiled. 

"I kind of like drugged Harry," Y/N laughed. "He's very cute." 

"Drugged Harry also likes drugged Harry, he feels like he's floating." 

"Oh, so drugged Harry talks about himself in the third person?" 

"He does now!" Harry smiled at her again. "Drugged Harry is tired... he's just going to..." 

Then the monitors started beeping rapidly. Several nurses ran in, bustling around and shouting various medical terminology. Another nurse ushered Y/N out of Harry's room for the second time that day. 

"No! No, I need to stay with him! I can't-"

"Shh... it's alright. They're going to do everything they can to help him. You have to let them help him. Why don't we go to the waiting room?"

Y/N exhaled shakily. If she couldn't stay with Harry, she might as well sit instead of hovering around the corner. 

"Yes, let's go to the waiting room," She said, after a few deep breaths. 

Y/N had been sitting on the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, but a glance at her phone told her it had only been 45 minutes. 

A woman in a surgical gown approached her, and Y/N stood up quickly. "What happened?" She asked immediately.

"Unfortunately, your husband's brain bleed did not resolve itself like we had hoped. He is in surgery, and for right now he's doing well," the surgeon said, looking sympathetic. 

"Ok... why did the monitors freak out? Did his heart stop? Is he going to wake up from surgery?" 

"The monitors went off because his heart was having trouble, but they were able to resuscitate him through CPR and defibrillation. It's too soon to know if he will wake up, but the surgeon is hopeful. I will come back to update you as soon as I can."

"Ok, thank you," Y/N said, sinking back into her chair.

  She felt a pain in her chest, like real, actual pain. What would she do without Harry? How would she live with herself, knowing he died trying to save her? 

She caught a glimpse of the ring on her finger and choked back a sob. Would she tell people she was engaged? No, of course not. Harry had been completely out of his mind when he'd asked her. 

She slumped down in her chair, wanting to curl up and cry. Instead, she called her mom. Through her tears, she explained everything that happened. 

"Oh, honey," Her mom sighed. "I'm so sorry. I'm on my way. I'll be there in about 7 hours, I'm sorry it'll take so long. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

  "No, I can't," Y/N sniffled. "I have to call Harry's family."

  "Do you want me to do that? I wouldn't mind, they're-"

"No, mom, thank you, but I should. I- I'm going to go. Love you," Y/N said, hanging up the phone. 

Checking her phone, Y/N realized it was the middle of the night in London where Harry's family lived. She didn't think she should wait, so she called Anne without another thought. 

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. We're getting the soonest flight. We won't be there until tomorrow morning. Will you be alright alone? Is your mother coming?" 

"Yes, my mom's on her way. I'm ok, thank you," Y/N said, rubbing her eyes. 

After she hung up the phone, it set in just how exhausted she was. She had slept poorly the night before, because of the awkwardness of sleeping in a chair and because she was so, so, worried for Harry.

She drifted into a fitful sleep where she dreamed of cars crashing, rings flying around, and Harry standing just out of her reach. He was like a rainbow, the closer she got to him, the more he faded. 

She startled awake and realized there were tears on her face. She checked her phone, seeing that it had only been 3 hours.  

She saw the same woman from before approaching her, this time wearing just scrubs. 

Y/ N stood to meet her. 

"Harry is out of surgery and doing well. We were able to repair the brain bleed. His heart stopped on the table," Y/N gasped at this, "But we were able to get him back. His ribs will be very sore and possibly even broken. All that aside, he is doing well, Mrs. Styles, and you can see him now," She said, Leading Y/N to the elevator. 

Her breath trembled as they walked towards his room. 

Harry was laying in his bed, looking like a fragile child. Even though he was so much bigger than her, right now he seemed so... small. 

Y/N looked at the nurse, asking to sit with him. She nodded and explained that two of his ribs were fractured and his collarbone would hurt him a lot when he woke up. 

Y/N held his hand with a featherlight touch, unwilling to jostle him even the smallest bit. 

After about an hour of her reading to him, she felt a small movement, barely even noticeable. Was it...?

She felt another movement. This time she was sure of it. He was squeezing her hand.

"I'm here Harry, I'm right here," She soothed,  moving her chair closer to him.

  He groaned sleepily before opening his emerald eyes and looking at her.

  "Hi," he smiled, squeezing her hand again. 

"Hi," Y/N said, crying more than a little bit. 

"What... did... are you ok?" Harry's brow furrowed. He seemed to have a hundred questions, but he settled on asking how she was. 

"Yes, Harry, I'm ok. How do you feel?" 

"Hurts," he said, closing his eyes. "But if you're ok, so am I." 

Y/N kissed his hand. "I see drugged Harry is still here? The one that is 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 cute and sweet?" 

"No, he's not. This is just regular Harry. I can tell because everything 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 hurts," He said with a small grimace.

"Oh, I'll get the nurse. They'll give you something," Y/N started to get up, but Harry's grip on her hand tightened. 

"Wait," he said pulling her back to him. "Before they make me go all loopy, I just want to say-" He paused, looking at the ring on her finger. "I love you, to my fiancee. I think it counts more when I'm not high." 

"Your- your fiancee? Harry, I told you I wouldn't hold you to anything you said before. You weren't in your right mind at all, I didn't even think you'd remember saying all that." 

"Yeah, but I remember asking you to marry me and you said yes. You might not be holding me to anything I said, but I'm holding you to that," He grinned. "You really want to deny a dying man his last... dying... wish?" 

Harry flopped his good arm dramatically over his forehead, wincing at the motion. Y/N helped him slowly lower it again. 

"First of all, you're not dying. Secondly, I don't want you to go through with this because you feel obligated, or because you think I'll be upset if you aren't ready to propose. It's totally fine, I promise, but why don't we talk about this when you're feeling better?" 

"No, I feel fine," He insisted.

Y/N gave him a look. "Really? You do? Aren’t you the one who just needed help moving your arm?" 

"Irrelevant. I feel fine, like, mentally. If you don't think you're ready to be engaged to me, that's ok. But don't say no because you think I didn't mean it. I did, with every part of me. I love you, and I want you to be my wife." 

"...Really?" Y/N asked, cheeks heating up.

"Really," Harry smiled. 

"And according to drugged Harry, you want to have a cat and 4 children." 

Harry laughed, wincing immediately.

"Don't make me laugh, my chest really hurts," He said, still holding her hand. 

"Sorry, sorry, they said you have some broken ribs. Also your collarbone. Also your femur. Geez, Styles, you're kind of a mess," You laughed. 

"Yeah, really," He smiled. "But seriously, will you? Will you be my wife?" 

"Of course I will, Harry. I love you so much, of course I will," Y/N said, gently kissing his cheek. 

"Great," Harry beamed at her. "Now that we've worked that out, can you get the nurse? Drugged Harry is ready to make a comeback." 

"Oh, right, sorry," Y/N said, reaching over for the call button. 

The nurse came in, giving Harry more medicine. 

"You'll start to have some relief within a few minutes," She said, leaving them alone again.  

"One more thing Y/N," Harry said. She could already tell he was a little more relaxed. "I have to get you a ring!" 

Y/N smiled, holding up her hand. "I already have one, remember?" 

Harry waved her hand away. "No, no, a bride can't buy her own ring! What kind of... chivalrous... gentleman... would I be if I didn't buy you a beautiful ring?" 

"Ok, Harry, as soon as you get out of here, we'll go ring shopping," Y/N promised. 

"And... to the cat shelter? You said we could get a cat... a kitty, a cat, a little kitty cat..." 

Harry had started singing mumbled words about cats and love and babies. Y/N knew it was going to be a long night. Still, she had never been happier.

[chaeiimimi]

How I Met Your Mother

Timeskip!Kuroo x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: None 

it was a fine afternoon, the sunlight illuminated your whole house, the noise from the tv in the background and  Kuroo was on the coffee table catching up with some of his paper works he failed to finish during the weekend, he casted a quick glance at your five- year-old son who was reading a science encyclopedia, Tetsuya was basically his carbon copy, from his feline eyes, to his raven black bed hair not to mention the same love for science and hyena laugh, they would pass as twins. You were out with your friends (Yaku’s and Kai’s wife), therefore he was in charge of the house for the day.

Kuroo went back to his task when he saw his son immersed in his encyclopedia. Not even five minutes have gone by and his son was walking towards him dragging along his Brontosaurus plushie his Uncle Kei got him, his son tugged on his shirt and he tears his eyes away from his computer to look at his son

“hey buddy, you want a snack?” he lovingly ruffled his son’s hair

Tetsuya nod “want dino nuggies daddy” man literally had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from screeching at how adorable his son is

“alright, daddy’s gonna make you dino nuggies” he says taking off his reading glasses and going to the kitchen while his son trailed behind him like a lost puppy

He sat Tatsuya on the counter’s chair while he brings out the dino nuggies and some ingredients for a sandwich and lemonade as well

“daddy?” his son called out to him and he answered with a hum while taking the nuggets out of their container

“how did you and mom meet?” he looked at his son who was looking at him with the most curious eyes

There was an instant tug on the corner of his lips as he remembered that day, internally slapping his face for feeling like a giddy teenager again

He went back with his work on the chicken nuggets and started

 “well…”

Aside from the sound of the chalk screeching against the board and the voice of his Literature teacher, it was a rather quiet afternoon.

Time seems to be going by slowly for Kuroo, he was uncontrollably tapping his feet and drumming his fingers on his desk, he was eager to get out of this class which was the last class for the day, he was eager to practice, the pressure of the upcoming nationals weighed heavy on his shoulders, his mind was filled with volleyball and classes and college applications that he was barely eating and sleeping

When the resounding bell that marked the end of the class, he immediately got out of his seat and hurriedly walked towards the door only to be blocked by the class president

“where do you think you’re going Kuroo-san? You’re on plant duty today”

He inwardly groaned, how could he forget? Today was Friday

He dragged his feet back inside, placed his bag on his chair and proceeded to look for the water can

He found it on its usual place and walked outside to fill it up, once done, he went to the classroom’s backyard and saw you with gloves on, your hair on a clip as you patiently pull out weeds

Kuroo swears his heart skipped a beat when you looked at his way and gave him a small awkward smile

He walked over beside you, took the gloves in his pocket, put it on, and started pulling some of the weeds as well

“so, which class are you from?” he asked nervously trying to strike up a conversation

“the same class as you, see?” he looked up and saw that you were pointing at the sign with your class on it

A million thoughts were running in his head like, “how come I never saw her before?” “Has she always been in our class?”  “Did I come out as rude?”

Until he heard a chuckle coming from you

“don’t worry, I get that a lot” you say as you continue to pull out weed

“I’m L/N Y/N by the way, Ayumi-chan is sick that’s why you’re stuck with me for now” you said and gave him another smile

‘I don’t mind’ he wanted to say that but he decided to just nod

“the nationals, it’s next week right?” you asked still not looking at him

“yeah” he answers

“well, good luck to you and your team, I’m the only one in the class who hasn’t wished you luck yet” you said as you started digging some holes to put your new seeds in

“thanks, I need a whole lot of that stuff” he chuckled nervously 

“well, I never thought I’d see the great Kuroo Tetsuro get nervous” it was true, Kuroo always appeared composed and confident, the total opposite of you who was shy and demure

“I’m still human you know?” you watch him as he pulls out a particularly large weed

You chuckled and nodded

“you look like you need a break” you say and went back to your own work

It was now his turn to look at you and tilt his head in confusion

You looked at him and pointed your finger to his face

“the bags under your eyes are telling me you haven’t had a goodnight sleep in these past few weeks, your cheeks has slightly deflated implying that you haven’t been eating much, plus you don’t laugh at Tadashi-Sensei’s stupid science jokes anymore, meaning you’re not really having fun or something’s wrong”

You put your finger down after voicing out your long observation and went back to your task

Kuroo was stunned to say the least, he thought he was putting up a good façade, boy was he wrong

While realization was just hitting you and your eyes widen

“PLEASE  DON’T TAKE THAT IN A CREEPY WAY, PEOPLE RARELY TALK TO ME SO I LIKE OBSERVING THEM FROM AFAR!” you immediately blurted out

There was a long deafening silence before a hyena-laugh broke out

“its fine its fine” he said in between laughter while you stood there with a flushed face

“It’s just that you were the last person I expected to hear that from” he said after laughing

You gave him a small shrug

“I just don’t like to see people losing interest in something they’re passionate about” you look at him and smiled

“if you envision the ideal outcome of what you’re doing and it doesn’t spark you joy, then there’s no point of doing it” your words dug its way into Kuroo

You went back to your work and continued “I think that you are very passionate about volleyball and I can see that school is important for you as well, you just need to take a step back, look at the bigger picture and tackle every situation one by one, you can’t experience the dream you had for three years with that depressed look in your eyes”

He freezes on the spot, everything you said digging its way to his system, a flash of relief spreading throughout his body, he felt his vision slowly widening, and for the first time in two weeks he felt tired and hungry

The birds chirping, and the sound of water trickling from the water can were the only things that were heard, the setting sun illuminated your skin as it perfectly glowed and you happily planting the new seeds into the dirt will always be engraved in his mind and heart as one of his most peaceful memory 

“hey, I’m getting food after this, do you wanna come?��� he asked his eyes pleading you to say yes

You were taken aback but you eventually nodded with a small “sure”

and so you spent the rest of the day eating at a ramen store with Kuroo (man was hungry he literally finished three bowls) and went to an ice cream parlor for dessert 

After walking you home, Kuroo laid in his bed his hair wet from the shower as he sends a chat to the volleyball team apologizing for skipping practice

           “good thing you did, you looked like you were falling apart”- Yaku

           “you looked like a zombie from the house of the dead”- Kenma

           “you badly needed it man”- Kai

He shook his head as he opens another chat box, his bright smile turning into a soft one

           “hey, thanks for today, I had fun”- Kuroo

      “i don’t even know what I did but you’re welcome? Thanks for the treat”- Y/N

 “… and that’s how I met your mother, we went hung out very often after that and I asked her out after the Nationals” he said as he placed the food in front of Tetsuya, the giddy smile still plastered across his face

“Mom talked a lot to cheer you up even though she’s shy” he says as he takes a bite of his dino nuggies

“well she did confess to me that she liked me since the first year of junior high on our wedding night” he says with a smug look on his face

“you could’ve just leave that part out” both of the boys turn their heads toward you

your son immediately got off his chair and ran towards you as you lift him up and hugged him tight, he started talking to talk about everything he discovered while reading and you listening to every word he says, with a mother smile plastered on  your face.

your husband stood there, staring at you, eyes filled with love and adoration. He was pretty sure he was a hero who died for his country in his past life. There was no other explanation on how he got this lucky, how he managed to get the most perfect wife the world could offer and how he was given the most perfect son he could ever ask for. 

staring at you as you smile gently to your son, he didn’t know it was still possible to fall even harder even after being together for fourteen years.

omg this is my first ever post, It’s kind of a mess but please bare with me I am still learning.

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | you choose to stay

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2.5k

warnings: cussing/mature language, soft smut, some breast and clit play, slight begging, multiple orgasms, honestly more so into the soft love-making over anything rough

notes: we’ve made it to the end 🥺 yes - there is an option for you to choose to leave as well, please check the masterlist if you don’t catch the post alone! ily all, thank you for sticking through the series! stay tuned for bands, it’ll be just as much of a crazy ride! 💘

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead@bluesharksandfish@photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1​ @thebeebi​ @brightcolorsoffendme​

"Jin?" You ask as he slowly turns around, his expression warm and inviting. He carried a huge bouquet of flowers in front of him, so huge it almost covered that small smile he gave off.

"Y/N."

"W-what're you doing here? How'd you know when I'd be home?" Ryujin.

He scratched his head nervously and chuckled. "Ryujin."

"Figures." You chuckle.

"These are for you, I got them at the farmer's market earlier. I saw them and thought of you." You smile as you take the bouquet and bring it close to your nose. They smelled sweet, and fresh. Just like Jin. "I, uh, was hoping we could talk."

"Sure." You nod as he takes your duffle bag from you while waiting for you to open your door. You set the flowers aside in the vase, Jin dropping your things in the living room before making his way over to the couch.

"How was spending time back home?"

"Good, much needed." You looked up from the vase. "What did you do this weekend?"

"Not much. Spend some time with Jungkook." You nod, feeling relieved that they had been able to spend time together and slowly fix their relationship.

"That sounds nice. I'm glad you two are fixing things."

"Slowly but surely." You make your way over to the couch and sit next to him, your thigh touching his. "How's school been?"

"Fine, not the same since you left though." He chuckled.

"Sorry I, uh--" He looks at you. "I had my reasons." You nod, knowing full well what those reasons were.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain." You give him a toothless smile. "So, what's up?" You ask, as if you didn't have things to say to him yourself. He slowly tilts his head to look at you, lips slightly parted before speaking. His eyes tell you everything you need to know. He missed you. And you missed him too.

"I'm just going to come out and say it." He says softly. "I miss you, Y/N. I-I can't keep going on like this, you know? Without you. You're not gonna be the one that gets away. I refuse to tell that story in the long run because you matter too much to me." He sighs. "I love you, and I'm here for you. I want to do this with you, and I know we didn't exactly have that fairytale meeting or whatever that even fucking means Jin, get it together." He shakes his head at his own words, causing you to softly chuckle to yourself. "But I'm always going to be by your side, and I'll never give up on you, or us. My past actions haven't exactly said that but I'm sure about you, about this. More than I've ever been before." He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Please let me love you." You don't even know what to say, or, I guess it's just that Jin has said all the right things. Everything that needed to be said. You didn't need to say anything else.

So, you silently cup his cheek and bring his face to yours, planting a soft kiss on his plump lips before pulling back to look at him. He smiles, his hand is now holding onto yours, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. He leans in for another kiss, his lips slowly parting from yours when he pulls away.

"Sooooo is that a yes?" He breaks the silence, causing you to giggle and fall back onto the couch.

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay." He smiles, the dimples from underneath his eyes poking out. "In that case, will you also allow me to cater to you today?"

"Hm, what does that involve, Seokjin?"

"Come with me, you'll see."

"Okay." You respond softly with a smile. Jin sits silently, watching the TV while you clean up a bit and grab a few things before heading out. The car ride is silent, and you realize Jin is taking you back to his place.

It definitely feels a little weird and different being here, now that you don't see Grace's car in the driveway, nor do you see any pictures of the two or anything that signals Grace in general. You follow Jin into his room, setting your things off to the side as he takes off his jacket. He comes to you, cupping your face in his hands before placing a kiss on your lips.

"Come, I wanna cook something for you." He nods you to follow him to the kitchen. You sit at the island, watching him prep his ingredients together and begin to prepare whatever dish he had in mind. He had began to update you on the past couple of weeks, which wasn't much, but he still figured he'd tell you how work was going, or how his friends were doing. Namjoon being completely caught up with Ryujin.

You continued to watch how delicate he was, cooking a meal for the both of you. He pulled out two tupperwares and a few smaller ones, slipping the freshly cooked meal into the bigger containers before getting a few snacks into the small containers. You furrowed your brows, wondering what in the hell he was doing, and why you couldn't just eat here.

"What are you doing?" You chuckled.

"We're not eating here." He looked at you before fixing the food into the containers.

"Where are we eating then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Jin."

"Y/N?" He says, his brow slightly raised. "Just relax. I think you'll enjoy it." You nod silently as he packs them into a canvas reusable bag that he pulls off of the hook on his wall. He removes his apron and hangs it onto a free hook before putting his jacket on again. "You want another jacket?"

"Will I freeze to death in this outfit?" You stand and he looks at you up and down. Granted, the sun was out and it was a nice day out. You just threw on some grey-ish Gymshark leggings and its matching sports bra under a cream-colored puffer jacket.

"Ummmm." He says continuing to eye you up and down. God, he wanted you.

"Earth to Jin?" You cross your arms and tilt your head, making him snap out of it with a chuckle.

"No, you should be fine. I'll make sure it's warm enough for you."

"You're too much."

"Sorry, you just look really good in those leggings."

"Uh huh." You playfully roll your eyes and grab the canvas bag from his hand. He leads the way to his Audi SUV, opening your door before situating himself into the driver's seat. The sun was slowly setting, and Jin took you over the bridge and into San Francisco. Except not, because his car continued to drive off towards the Peninsula. He took the exit towards Pacifica and it suddenly clicked in your head - he was taking you to the beach to eat. In this weather though? You hoped not. He said you'd be fine in your outfit, but you were starting to think he planned it all along just because he liked how good you looked. But, you sat silently, letting him take you to the final destination. The sky was now filled with dark orange hues, one side of the sky quickly darkening before the other.  He turns onto a road, about three houses lining the road way before there's a patch of dirt and a car or two parked facing towards the water in front of you. The cars were pretty spaced out, Jin finding his own spot to park into - the only thing blocking the car from the heavy waves in front of you was a flimsy, rusty railing and a small stone wall. He gets out and immediately pops the trunk open, laying his back seats down and spreading out a few blankets he had hidden in the trunk before calling you over.

"Come join me." You hop out and sit next to him, tucking yourselves away in the opened trunk, watching the waters roll in and crash against the wall.

"Oh shit, this is beautiful." You say. You never knew of this spot, and it was isolated from the main beach itself. It was nice to have some privacy, but also get this front row view of the water.

"Isn't it?" He wraps another blanket around your shoulders for you to snuggle into before laying out the food in front of you both. The sun is about to sink into the horizon as you quietly start to dig into the food, thanking Jin in between chewing for the amazing dinner he had prepared for you two. He uncapped a bottle of wine, mainly for your enjoyment, pouring it into a fancy plastic  cup. He pressed his back against the side of the trunk, allowing you to crawl in between his legs and get comfortable while you sipped on the wine and picked at the grapes he brought. He leaned his head back, his arms wrapped around your neck, holding you tightly as you both watched and listened to the waves.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For all of this."

"It's no biggie." He says softly, your temple resting against his jaw. "I don't think you'll ever understand how much you mean to me. You make me feel complete." He turns to place a kiss against it, causing you to sink deeper into his body. For a moment, you both are just still. In peace. Listening to the waters ahead. Your hands rest on his arms, caressing it gently with your thumb before turning to look at him. "Hm?"

"Nothing." You smirk.

"That's not nothing."

"I just wanna show you how much I appreciate you and all of this."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckles as he watches you stir in your position to fully face him. You're on your knees, keeping yourself steady as you lean in to kiss him. He deepens the kiss, his hand tugging your jacket to keep you close. You straddle him in his position, gripping his chin with your hand. "Fuck, I missed you." He says breathily before your tongue licks his entire bottom lip, causing him to tilt his head back and hiss.

"Wanna close this up?" You nod towards the trunk, causing you to giggle when he quickly shuts the door with his car remote and wraps his arms around you to lay you down gently. He takes off your jacket, tossing it aside in the front seat before softly kissing your neck and nipping on the surface of your skin. You feel his tongue swipe up your neck before he plants a kiss on your jaw, then back up to your lips. He aggressively lifts up your bra, exposing your breasts for him to play and suck on. He grips them as he sinks his mouth lower onto your nipple, sucking and letting his tongue explore on your bud. "Ohhhhhh." You mewl as he lets go with a pop, moving onto your other nipple, his hands now starting to pull your leggings down.

He begins to make his way down, leaving kisses on your stomach, abdomen, inner thighs, then your clothed clit. You slightly hiss at the feeling, causing you to wiggle a bit underneath him, signaling that you want more. He doesn't argue, or tease, and instead immediately pulls your soaked panties off, allowing his tongue to freely explore down your folds and push in and out of your entrance. "Jin." You moan as he's now sucking gently on your clit, two digits pumping in and out of you. "Fuuuuck, Jin. Stopppp." You whine. "I'm gonna cum."

"Why would I stop?" He says in between sucking your clit. The more he's pumping his fingers in and out of you, the more you feel yourself unraveling. It's not long before you're trembling under his arm, almost squeezing Jin's head in between your thighs as he continues to suck on your clit slowly while you ride out your high. Once you've been able to regulate your breathing, you watch as he undoes his belt and slightly pulls his pants down just enough to let his hardened member spring free. He spits onto his hand and pumps himself a few times while you've taken the initiative to suck on the two fingers he used to help make you cum the first time. He groans at the sight, wasting no time to line his tip with your entrance.

His body is lowered onto yours, your heels planted steadily as your hands explore up his back and inside of his shirt. He leans down to kiss you as he's inserting himself slowly, your moans being captured by the kiss. When he bottoms out, he begins to roll his hips into you, your kisses becoming messy and wet. Your hands are getting tangled in his hair, gently gripping the strands as he works his way with you, careful not to shake the car too much.

Either way, he feels fucking good. You feel fucking food. He fills you up so well and you're sure he'd make you cum any second with the way he's rolling into you. The moment is sensual, and full of passion. He's holding you closely as you with him, the crashes of the waves still echoing in the car even though the trunk is fully closed.

"Jin, please." You whimper, causing him to let out a small moan.

"God, I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that." He says, your hips now working against his.

"Fuuuuuuck!" You cry, your nails digging into his back, causing him to slightly groan and pick up his pace just a bit - he still manages to fuck you slowly and deeply, his tip hitting your core every second. "I'm gonna cum. Cum with me."

"Cum, baby." He nods, his hips slightly moving at a faster pace. Just as the waves crash against the wall, you feel yourself hurdling over the edge for the second time. It hits you so hard that you aren't able to make any noise, except let your body tremble and your face make the expression for you as your eyes roll back and your hands grip onto his hair and shoulder. The look sends him over, especially with your walls constricting tightly around him. He groans into your neck, thrusting hard but slowly just to let you both ride out the last of the high. He stays there for a minute before he's slowly raising his head and brushing the hair out of your face. The windows are all fogged up and it suddenly feels like that one scene from Titanic. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too."

And in this moment, this is when you felt completely still. At peace. Like you could finally breathe. You rested your head against Jin's chest, listening to his heartbeat in one ear and the waves through the other, closing your eyes to take in this entire moment.

Let yourself live, and be happy.

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

On Illness and Recovery, or: Sickfic, Baby!

You know the drill! Please let me know if you liked it, and check my Twisted Wonderland fanfiction tag if you want other shit I’ve done.

Contains coarse language and emotional whiplash.

~*~*~*~

Some things stay true no matter where you are; the truest, right now? Schools are disgusting fucking petri dishes, as your miserable cold will tell you. Your cough had only been getting worse as the days went on, with it came exhaustion and a chill that wouldn't leave your bones. You should probably be holed up in your dorm instead of going to class, but that had it's own issues that you were struggling to solve.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat." Grimm's nose, and little else, poked out from a pile of blankets on your bed.

"Nowhere close. Shh." You taped the last bit of plastic over the balcony entryway, and swapped the roll of tape for a heavy duty stapler. "Hold that right there."

The skull-faced ghost held a packing blanket over the plastic as you stapled it in place. By the time you were done, you couldn't see much, which at least meant you could no longer see your own breath. Maybe now, you would be able to feel your own fingers.

Ah, they joys of your own rotten, ancient place - you wake up with frost on your bedsheets and your washbasin shattered from the ice within it. There were other rooms in the place, but most had holes in the ceiling or were too big to heat effectively. So now, you were going to live in one room, that you'd yet to figure out how to run electricity to, and only leave for class or the bathroom. Even if you were ill, could anyone blame you for still going to class when your own home had a nasty quirk of being even colder than outside?

Anywho, it was time to do some homework. By the light of an oil lamp. In five layers of clothing. Curled up so close to a tiny fire you might as well be inside of it. While your not-a-cat complained the whole time.

Yaaaaaaay.

~*~*~*~

"You really should be resting."

You scoffed. "You just feel bad because you're the one who got me sick."

"You can't prove that, everyone's had a cold the past few weeks."

"No one else has been exploring my tonsils, dude."

Idia clapped a hand on your mouth, which you did not lick solely because you were wearing a cloth mask. "Quiet! That's secret intel."

"What? No it's not, everyone knows."

"I don't want to advertise. Then I'm a raid boss and you're the rare loot drop."

You elbowed him in his boney ribs. "No one's going to kick your ass out of jealousy. Just because I'm the hottest bitch in this place doesn't mean I've got universal appeal."

"You're still the only girl and people are weird about it." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and winced. "You're too warm."

"How can you tell? You've got gloves on."

"That's how bad it is. I'll make some tea."

"I'm not drinking anything out of the damned lab equipment."

He frowned. "I've never had anything bad happen, it's cleaned correctly."

"You're smarter than that. One of these days you're going to grow a tail due to residue in the glassware, and I'm going to haul you around in front of god and everyone by it, going 'I told you so' the entire time."

He blanched, knowing that that was not an idle threat, and someone laughed. "I think I should make that happen, just so we can see that."

"Jade, no. No magic mushrooms for my man, or any other concoctionary bullshit either."

Idia looked ready to die, so to take attention off of him you leaned over and poked Silver awake before he fell face first in the potion he was working on. Logically, you know his narcolepsy was debilitating. Right now, you wish you could have borrowed it last night. You don't remember walking up during the night, but you must have, because why else would you be so tired?

He started up, mumbled "thank you" and went back to stirring as if he hadn't been about to drown in dubious magichemicals. God, you wished that was you right now.

"Idia, deal. You help me get through this class, I'll grab some hot food and go home."

He made a show of hemming and hawing before saying, "Grimm needs to let me hold him when I drop you off, and I will."

Ordinarily, you would have just said "Ask him yourself and don't be weird about it," and Grimm would have simply told him no until sufficiently bribed. But Grimm was still in bed at home, saying you kept him up all night, so instead you bumped Idia with your hip and said "What, you can't think to ask for better pussy to fondle?"

Of course, you just had to say something crass at the moment where everyone went quiet. Even Crewel raised his head and both eyebrows at you. The only reason you didn't get a riding crop to the face and a week in horny detention (where, you assumed, they punished you for being a bad girl indeed) was Idia, rapidly going through every stage of confusion and grief, with a few currently unknown to man. You'd intended to tease him, but that sheer amount of confused, horny misery on his face was just too much, and you laughed so hard you bent over.

And coughed. In a short time, there was no laughter left, only miserable coughing from the depths of your chest that left you on the floor with your eyes watering. Someone thumped your back a few times, and when you yanked your mask off to catch a proper, if shallow breath, your mask was full of a red-streaked, pus coloured slime.

A fur coat was draped over your shoulders as everyone made various noises of disgust. "Class dismissed. Let's get you to the nurses."

~*~*~*~

"How in hell are you still mobile."

"Pettiness and a desire to not freeze to death."

Crewel narrowed his eyes at you. "Both lungs."

"That is what double pneumonia means, Professor."

You could see his whip fingers itching. "Yes, well. You can't come to class like that. And... Is it really that bad in Ramshackle?"

Idia raised a hand. "It was really cold the last time I was there."

"Ugh. I told Crowley we should have razed the place for an expansion on my dog run." He looked at you with a curious mix of genuine fondness and even more genuine disgust. "I'm not putting you up until your place gets fixed, you'll leak all over my furniture. Anyone here going to babysit?"

"I've done perfectly fine in my own dorm, I don't need to become the pet of another dorm."

"Those little fairies said that if you don't stay on bedrest and stay warm, you will die. I am not filling out that paperwork." He looked to you classmates. "Speak up or I'm docking a letter grade."

Silver raised a hand. "I think we could do it but I don't think D- Lilia would let me. Malleus would end up trying to play nurse and skip class."

"Oh god, no, we don't tell him I'm sick until I'm safely ensconced somewhere, he would lose his damn mind and I'd try to strangle him after a week of it."

"There are no spare rooms in Octanivelle. However, I could try some experimental medicines I've been-"

"Jade, no."

Idia was quiet, before speaking up. "I... I don't know if Ignihyde has a spare room, or would be good for healing."

He'd not left your side since your collapse, and gone so full of writhing, barely concealed anxiety he'd broke through the other side and simply shut off. You didn't get it, it wasn't actually anything serious. The nurses had pumped you full of medicine, you'd be up and about a week or two at the most, instead of the month's worth of hospital rooms and bad food it would have been.

Crewel sighed. "Time to start checking the files to see where you can be squeezed."

There was a cough, from the fifth student so quiet despite his size. Everyone had honestly forgotten he was there.

When he spoke up, it was to you, and not anyone else. "There's an unoccupied room down the hall from me. I think the weather in the Savannahclaw dorms will be good for your health. You shouldn't have to stay where you won't be wanted, or get sicker. Would that work?"

You looked at him, assessing. You and him hadn't talked overmuch, and he didn't seem to mind. But as severe as he looked? You could see the sincerity in his offer.

"That should work. Jack, right?"

His ears flicked, and his tail twitched. "Yes."

"Thank you, Jack. You're very kind."

~*~*~*~

Easy to see why the room was empty. You suspected it might have been a storage room, or that there had been a monastic order in the dorm at one point. A single bed just fit the far wall, with a chair, a desk, a bureau, and little else. But the far wall had a large window, and the room felt... nice. And a hell of a lot warmer than than your room in Ramshackle.

"It'll make an excellent sickroom." You set your schoolbag and an entire case of tissues on the desk. "Thank you again, Jack. You sure it won't be any trouble?"

"I've already cleared it with our dorm leader, he said he doesn't care as long as you don't rub phlegm on his things." Jack was a solid block of frown and muscle in the corner. "The window does open, you should keep it that way for circulation. There's a bathroom down the hall, there's showers in there. If you need anything or anyone tries to bother you, please let me know."

"Will do." You were already unpacking the few things in your bag, trying to get them arranged before another coughing fit took you.

"I can help get your things, if you need?" For a dude who was very do-that-shit-yourself, he was being very helpful.

"Idia's grabbing Grimm and anything else I'll need. He'll know what I want."

"I see." Silence, and more interesting ear flicks. "So."

"So?"

"You and him are..." He made a guesture with interlaced fingers.

"Yeah. Jealous?"

He snorted. "No. Just curious. He's a bit..." Hand wiggle.

"I'm a bit too. It works. Would have been nice if he'd gotten the hint before I had a ghost turn me inside out in front of him and everyone else."

"You know that's why you're so sick, right?"

You made a noise that was hard to decipher, that he used as cue to continue. "You never smelled quite right after that happened. Even after the healing. You're always a little..." He moved his hands, trying to grasp the right simile. "Like when a flower's starting to drop petals. Overripe."

How in the hell were you supposed to take that. What do you even say to that? Does everyone know you smell? Does - 

"Oh god, you all know when I'm on the rag."

A single, curt nod, and you put your head in your hands and groaned.

~*~*~*~

A knock on the door

"Who is it?"

"Your worst enemy."

"Get your ass in here, Vil."

Vil had on... good lord. Mask, gloves, face shield. An absurdly fashionable CDC agent. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Vil. Means so much coming from you."

He stayed by the door, ready to flee if a spare germ came floating towards him. "Heard you're out of commission. Thank the seven, I'll get some peace in my life."

You flipped him the bird, but smiled as you did. "Don't say that. I'll made a sheet ladder and mix sputum in your cold cream."

"If you do that I will personally burn your clothes and replace them with something decent that you will hate."

"Try. Come to gloat?"

"Just a bit." He set a large cup with a straw at the very edge of the desk, straining at arm's length as he did. "This should unfuck your throat somewhat."

"Such language!" You waited until he retreated to the door before you took the smoothie. It was... very, very purple, and smelled minty. "Trying to poison me, finally?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I decide to poison you, it's not going to be through something that obvious. You will never see it coming, and then I'll sell your corpse to Floyd and everyone will just think he finally decided to go full crazy and Riddle is next."

You snorted. "Honestly? I think he'd shit his pants if I actually returned the affection. One time I saw Riddle give him a genuine smile and he had to go sit down because he started shaking so bad." That might have been because the smile was caused by Floyd cracking his head on a doorway and falling flat on his ass, but the point still stood.

When he stopped laughing, he turned to leave. "Take at least an extra week to get better, for my sanity. And don't give the creature any, it won't agree with him."

"Shh, I just got him down for his nap-"

Grimm made a horrible snort from your feet and say up. "Food?"

You made a look-what-you-did guesture at Vil, but he left instead of helping you deal with your beloved yowling idiot.

~*~*~*~

You woke up coughing in the dark. It took entirely too long for you to figure out where the hell you were, and why, and you took the offered tissue with great-

"JaySUS FUCKING CHRIST" You jumped back so much it was only Malleus's grip on your arm that kept you from going through the open window.

"People are sleeping, please do not yell."

"Don't yell my ass, how long have you been there?"

He shrugged. "Since before sunset. Ortho was here first."

You leaned around Mal, to see Ortho sitting on the desk, scritching the belly of a drowsing Grimm. "Hello, Yuu. Your fever has gone down half of a degree since I took over."

The audacity of these idiots, you swear. "Both of you go home and go to bed."

"No. You need watching." Mal had not blinked once since you'd woken up, and how about that? His eyes glowed in the dark, or he had very strong eyeshine; either way, there was no iris around the blown out pupil. "You are very ill and need taken care of. I can do that, I took care of Silver when he was ill."

"Mal."

"Yes?"

"Do we need another boundaries talk?"

He frowned. "But you are ill."

"Mal, I will call Lilia and tell him what you are doing right now. I will personally write your grandmother and tell her you're neglecting your studies. I will get Leona down here and he will call you a simp until you go outside and fight him on compulsion."

"Those all sound terrible!"

"Ortho, don't kiss up because you're next. Why are you here and not home charging?"

"Idia wouldn't go home to sleep until I said I would let him know if you got worse."

You opened your mouth, and shut it again. Why's he so worried? You had to physically shove him out the door to go to his next class, looking like his heart would break, and he'd still skipped board games to fidget miserably in the chair Mal now sat in, looking ready to burst into tears every time you coughed.

Ortho seemed to read your mind. "He gets worried when people get sick. I got sick once."

Ah. That explained a hell of a lot that you were too polite to ask.

"... Okay, you can stay."

Mal perked up.

"You go home. I'll never go back to sleep if you keep staring all night, and you do need to sleep some."

Mal's face fell.

"You can come back tomorrow, after class."

He perked back up. "Goodnight, Yuu. I will see you tomorrow!" A brief kiss against your sweating temple, and he was out the same window he most likely came in.

"Hey, Ortho?"

"Yes?"

"If you can dim your lights a little, you can come lie down with me."

~*~*~*~

You were rudely poked awake by a giant asshole.

"Why are you in my nap room." Leona hovered over you with obvious displeasure.

You blinked and sorted yourself. Ortho was crammed between you and the window, hopefully dreaming of electric sheep, and Grimm was still dead asleep, the little bastard. "Jack put me up here because my dorm's a block of ice and I can't stay there on doctor's orders." Crewel might have a doctorate, it's not a lie.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I did." Jack was behind him, his own link in a chain of hovering displeasure. "You said it was fine as long as she didn't make a mess. I brought yogurt."

"Thank you-" More miserable coughing, with now everyone either rubbing your back or passing you tissues. Except Leona, who simply held back and watched. By the time you were done, he just nodded.

"I'm not moving you, but..."

"What."

"I'm calling in a favour next time Cheka gets pawned off on me. He likes you."

You'd argue that, but you liked the kid. "Aight. Everyone get out, there's too many fucking people in here and I'm discovering new and interesting depths of claustrophobia."

Leona didn't need to be told twice.

"I'll be back after class with your homework. Maybe at lunch with something. Not before then. Stay put."

"Oooo, oo. I'm going with you, big guy." Grimm scampered over. "I'll get bored here all day. You can just nap."

You rolled your eyes "I can just nap. Jack, if he sticks with you, he's going to want to eat everything you do."

"I'll manage."

"Would you like me to stay?" Ortho was finally up, or maybe you hadn't noticed him exiting screensaver mode.

"I'd like you to tell your brother that I'm not going anywhere. Use those exact words."

He nodded, a faint whirr as he did.

"I'll see you guys later, okay? I need more sleep."

~*~*~*~

Someone gently shook you awake, and said someone was leaning in the window.

"Hey, Kalim." Why'd you have to be the center of attention when sick, and therefore couldn't kiss anyone to thank them for said attention.

"Hi! I asked Jamil to make extra lunch for you!" He set a covered dish on your knees.

"Thank you. Was he okay with that?"

"He was when I said it was for you. Everyone's heard that you're laid up!"

"News travels fast. Am I about to get even more popular?"

"You're always popular because you're great. Feel better! Jamil said he'll have extras tomorrow too. See you!" And off he went.

You needed to tell Jamil thank you, but he would probably just tell you to just stop talking about abolishing the monarchy instead. (Not because he didn't support the idea, but because he didn't want to be punished for not keeping the idea from Kalim.) What did he make, anyway?

"Oh, curry. Sweet."

~*~*~*~

The days progressed roughly the same. Drowsing most of the morning, lunch, more drowsing in between laptop stuff, maybe actual sleep. Coughing up far less gunk as the days went on. And entertaining an absurd fucking amount of people. Everyone seemed determined to check on you, even people who you'd never seen before in your life; Ruggie made something like 10k madol charging people to try and see you through the window before you cursed him out. Your Heartslabyul boys dropped in every couple of days to relate shit that they hadn't simply texted you (along with a pile of pastries from Trey and handwritten instructions on recovery from Riddle, the latter far less appreciated than the former). Floyd dropped in once to mostly complain about how you weren't around to eat the mushrooms he picked out of his food, tried to convince you to let him carry you over to the Monstro Lounge himself, and when you refused, kissed the tips of your fingers and left pouting. Jack, true to his word, dropped in at least twice a day to deliver food and homework, and once spent forty-five minutes glowering at anyone approaching the bathrooms while you took a shower that ached on your oversensitive skin.

Some people were far more regular. Every day like clockwork, Malleus perched in your window and was the world's friendliest, most affectionate vulture. Twenty minutes after that, Idia would come in, sit in the chair, and exude such concentrated grief that you were at a loss for what to do beyond asking if he wanted to talk about it, to which he would shake his head and simply resume sitting there, tapping away at his screens until the next panicked flurry of activity every time you made a unhealthy noise.

"You are allowed to go home. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm much better than I was."

He just shook his head.

"I will come get you if something happens," Mal offered.

More head shaking, and a "no" from his tablet, before adding, "Never again."

"I'll call Ortho and make him tag you out."

"I said no. And Ortho is with Lilia."

Lilia, small, beloved pest, has what you like to think of as a compulsive need to parent. He was god knows how old, had raised at least three of your classmates that you know of, and seemed to consider you his newest fledgling. After hearing about what happened, he'd taken it into his own hands to fix Ramshackle to... well, not OSHA compliance, but you wouldn't be cold.

"Does he know how much I appreciate it? Appreciate all of you, really?"

"Of course he does. He loves talking about you. He wears that shirt you made all the time."

"Which one? I've made him seven so far."

"When do I get one?"

"When they make T shirts that'll fit over your horns." Something drooped in the corner of your eye, and you looked over to see Idia shaking himself upright. "Hey, babe. When was the last time you slept?"

He took an embarrassingly long time to lie through his teeth and say "Last night" through his tablet.

"Yeah, no. Get over here." You took a moment to drag Mal's hand down before he could just do a sleeping spell, or something equally well meaning but deeply inappropriate.

"No."

"Please?"

You held your arms out until he couldn't resist, and soon you'd arranged his head on your chest.

"You hear anything more sloshing around in there?"

He shook his head.

"I am on the mend. I... don't really know what happened before. And I sure as hell don't know what you did to get him back. But I'm not going anywhere. So rest." 

He gave a faint nod.

"I will wake you, if need be?"

To both yours and Mal's surprise, Idia answered him with a pat on his leg.

"Thank you."

Idia was already asleep.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what 'cyanosis' is?" You’d been stroking Idia's head for hours. Or minutes. Time flies, and you could not tell the difference.

"Not immediately, no."

"It's caused by a few different things. Hypoxia, hypothermia, that sort of thing. The blood in you doesn't have enough oxygen. So little that, instead of red, parts of your body turn blue or grey due to the lack of oxygen."

"I see." He looked intently, much as you did, at Idia's greyish nails and blue lips. "That doesn't seem survivable."

"Not if it's severe, no." The flames from Idia's head curled around your fingers, grasping at you even when he's not aware of it. "It's not something you see on someone as... lively as him. It's something I think about a lot. Whether it's to do with his magic, or that curse he won't elaborate on."

"I've heard rumours."

"Oh?"

"The Shroud family curse. Nothing concrete, for an origin. Madness, misfortune, and illness have plagued the family throughout history. Add in a trend of cousin marriage beyond the norm for upper-class families due to people not wanting to subject their loved ones to a cursed bloodline, and the tree is more of an notorious, ingrown shrub."

"That just sounds like shitty genetics and what happens to every family as the years go on, not a curse."

Mal shrugged. "is there a difference? Even in the sleeping curse my grandmother bestowed so easily, much of the power came for the fear of it. A girl grew up without her family because of the fear of it."

"True." You leaned down and kissed the top of Idia's head, feeling an unconscious smile as you did. "There must be a little hereditary something. He gets so anxious about this beautiful hair! He hates people looking at him, and he doesn't even realize it's because he's the most beautiful thing in any room he walks in."

"Thing?" Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Even the finest art in a museum doesn't have the benefit of being actually alive."

"Your capacity for love and beauty is enviable. Hunt would be jealous." He reached out and brushed a stray lock away from Idia's face, and you could feel another smile against your chest.

~*~*~*~

"Aight, so we've patched up holes in the walls, insulated the windows - Idia here," Lilia clapped Idia on the small of his back, causing him to make a distressed squeak - "smart boy, found some solar panels and we've got electricity up in your room, the kitchen and the bathroom by your room, not just the front room anymore! The rest we got the ghosts to help seal off to hold the heat in. I got you a space heater for your room, so you don't have to do a fire the whole time, and as long as you don't open the windows back up before spring, you won't freeze."

"Thanks, guys. One question."

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to my room."

Lilia smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a walking prank and can't keep out of there, what did you do."

"Nothing this time! I promise!" He held his hands up. "At least you can stay home for the next few days, Crewel says you gotta be back Monday or he's going to start making funeral prep."

"I'm literally better, but if he does that I get to help. Always wanted to plan my funeral, I have very specific ideas about what flowers to use and preferred corpse disposal."

"Maybe you should go upstairs and not talk about funerals and their associated things."

"Sure thing, dear."

After settling in your room, most everyone cleared out, even Idia. The only person still there was Jack, looking this way and that with a stern look.

"Hey, Jack?"

He grunted in assent.

"So like, why'd you put me up and help take care of me? We've hardly talked before then."

He sighed. "You've been very nice to me."

"You sure? I'd remember you."

"Uh."

"Jack?"

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day, if chilly in the wind. The sun was warm, the trees turning, and you just came across one of your best friends.

"Hi buddy! Are you lost today?"

The very large dog shook it's head and pressed into your knees.

"Okay, you wanna walk with me? Come on."

You'd found this enormous white Malamute wandering campus the first time a few months ago, and after checking in with a few other students who kept laughing when you asked if he was their dog, simply decided to enjoy your new friend and run and play. He was very smart, and initially standoffish, but could not resist a friendly face and good ear scritches. Today, you and Buddy here simply ran around like a couple of idiots after a lost soccer ball until it was time to go eat.

"I'll see you later, buddy. Bye!" You held out a hand, and after a firm shake, kissed the point where his snout met the rest of his face. "Stay safe, I love you."

Buddy made a low grumble and rubbed his paws over his face, and you went off to supper.

~*~*~*~

"You couldn't have told me?"

"How do you explain that? 'Hey, I run around as a wolf sometimes and you mistook me for a lost dog so you lovebombed me and I was at a loss and by the second time it was too awkward to say anything'?"

"I've been playing with you for months! I let you run with Crewel's dalmatians!"

"I run with them as a person, too, that's nothing special."

You pinched your nose. "Everyone must think I'm an idiot."

"I'll deal with them. I'm sorry, Yuu."

"I know. You are my good boy, after all."

His tail started wagging in spite of itself, and you laughed.

[catofulthar000]

"ii requiire maiintenance."

Scully's voice is soft from the doorway, so quiet Tavros might not have even heard him approach. He hasn't been looking too hot, lately; sagging loose skin and sunken eyes, working his jaw back and forth like a grinding hinge as he feels one bony hand along the wall.

List of things you wouldn't wanna see standing over your bed at 3PM on Alternia: he looks like a daywalker at this point.

Tavros perks up immediately, pushing back from his desk and looking over him with gentle concern.

"Hey Scully, Uhh, What do you need?" He asks, biting his lip.

He'd really been trying, feeding him and cleaning him, giving him games to play or tasks to complete. Any time he wasn't out getting food or occasionally visiting with people he spent watching over or caring for Scully. He still had hope, that he would get better. He had to get better.... Right?

"Uhm.... Do you want something else to eat before bed? Or.... Are you tired?"

Scully has been following him like a shadow, quieter and quieter as the cycles went on, glued to Tavros's side whenever he wasn't working. He stands now, half-hunched over and gaunt, peeking out from under his overgrown hair and clinging to the doorframe.

(He's been having a lot of trouble getting around. Bumping into more things, having to feel along the wall as the ambient buzz of his psionics becomes less and less. Voidrot is a bitch.)

"food, ii thiink. ii'm experiienciing 2ome abdomiinal tor2iion."

He stands without hesitation, smiling soft even if he can't see it, it carry's into his tone. "Alright, Uh, I have some more of that grain and broth soup I can heat up for you. That should be pretty gentle" he humms.

He crosses over to him to take him to his computer chair, still warm from where he'd been sitting, and helping him into it. "It'll just be a minute."

He fishes a half full container of soup from his mini fridge and pops it in the microwave, grabbing a spoon and making sure it's clean.

"You went and sat with the bees earlier? They were happy to see you..." They were also worried, but so was he. They were all worried about Scully, but it'd be okay...

He takes out the container, checking it's not too hot to hold, or eat, before handing it over to him, taking his hands and guiding them around it before placing the spoon in.

"Thank-you."

Scully follows--he doesn't even swing his arms when he walks, which is ... weird, maybe--and hovers at his elbow, staring blankly off to the side rather than straight ahead. His brow knits, momentarily, but he turns his attention to the soup as soon as his hands are nestled around it.

It's ... probably hard to watch, sometimes. His hands shake so much now that most of the soup doesn't even make it out of the bowl, and what does make it to his mouth stays there for a moment with the stilted, shuddering motion of his adam's-apple (he called it his rumblesphere, weird biology) as he struggled to swallow.

Most of it goes down half-chewed. Thankfully, it's Soup™️. He can't manage more than soup these days; poor guy bit into a slice of an apple, the other day, and a crumbled chunk of one of his teeth came with it.

He manages about a half a cup, though, sagging slightly with his head resting on Tavros's shoulder for balance.

"ha2 DK contacted you?"

Tav tries a little to steady his hand without being too invasive about it, a warm, steady palm resting over his as he kneels next to his computer chair.

The soft mush of broth soaked rice doesn't need any real chewing, and Tav watches him eat quietly. He reaches up once to brush some of his hair back from his face, it's getting so long, but he doesn't seem to care to cut it, but at least he was keeping it clean for him....

He takes the container when he stops eating, setting it on the desk and putting an arm around him as he rests his head on his shoulder.

"Uhm.... Not yet.... You want to get in bed?"

"ye2 plea2e," he murmurs. He never seems to mind Tav's hands--sometimes when they're on his face he even leans into it, a twitch at a time--but this time he halts, his knees stuttering. That uncut hair hangs in his face as he slouches forward a little, with a shaking inhale.

"Tavro2,” he says, his shoulders hunching forward slightly as he tucks a hand over the seam of his own lips, "ii'm about two rumiinate."

He pauses as he's helping him up, almost anticipating it and changing direction once he confirms.

"Oop, Okay, Hold on." He mumbles, gently lifting him, (he's so light) and taking him just around the corner into the ablution block, steadying him over a basin.

"We're here." He confirms quietly, quickly pulling all his hair back and away from his face, gently rubbing his back with his other hand.

Scully is barely draped over the lip of the sink when he loses the contents of his gastric-sack. It's sparse, and it's thin, and this is probably the third or forth time there's been blood in it. His knees shake a little--Tavros's hands on him are just about the only reason he's upright, pitiful as he may be.

He nods, gasping, and feels until he finds the faucet to wash out his mouth. It's routine, now.

"2orry," he says, like he says every time.

"S'okay." He mumbles back, grabbing the glass by the basin to fill with cold water "Wanna try drinking a tiny bit before you lay down?" He asks, hand still slowly stroking his back as he stands behind him.

Mischief, the worm off the string peeks in the ablution block, sniffing Scully's ankle with a soft whine.

He nods, and when Mischief comes snuffling in, he nudges it gently with his foot in greeting. He likes Mischief a lot--more than once, Scully has been found curled up in it like a feather boa, sound asleep.

"thank-you," Scully murmurs, out of the sudden silence. His bony hand dangles around Mischief's snout, letting the baby Snuffle About with his fingers, "ii'm 2orry ii wa2n't your friiend."

The long blue beast fondly licks at his fingers with a golden tongue before pressing it's muzzle against his palm.

Tav smiles a little at the interaction before pausing when Scully appologieses.

"Oh.... Uhm.. It's okay Scully. It is not like everyone is always going to be friends with everyone...." He reasons as he stoops to gently pick Scully up, cradling him in his arms as he carrys him to the bed. "And, We are maybe kind of friends now.... Right?" He adds tentatively as Mischief follows.

He lays him down on the soft blanket he tucks him in with every night, waiting for Mischief to jump up on the bed and nestle under his head and around his neck, fluffy and warm, like an extra pillow.

Scully is silent, carefully feeling along it's muzzle, cradling it as he stares into space.

"ii treated you pretty poorly, though. you diidn't de2erve iit."

Tavros scoops him up, and he curls himself a little smaller. He's always fucking freezing now. It makes sense--he lost a lot of weight very quickly, and the heat leeches from him as easily as if he were standing outside in winter. We love a heat-sink king.

"ii don't thiink ii can be your friiend," he admits, with a whisper of something that might even be regret--just a smidgen, barely-there, "iit'2 not wiithiin my current functiional parameter2. ii would have, though."

Mischief nuzzles up, and Scully hesitates for a moment as he struggles to lift his head, so Mischief can nestle in with him. He buries his face in it's fur, and a little of the tension looses from his jaw. Better. Safe.

"Oh...... Well, That's okay.... You're still my friend, I think...." He humms as he tucks the blankets warm around him, making sure he's in a comfortable position before stepping away for a moment.

The two fluff bugs crawl over the blankets to curl up against him, and are soon joined by a pufftapod and a nugget, all gathering around to help keep him warm. Even Tink flutters down to nestle by his neck, licking his ear a couple times before settling down.

Tavros opens a shaded window to let some of the warm, morning air in, smiling as a few pairs of bees buzz into the room. "Uhm, Anyway, If you think you would have, Then that still sort of counts."

He comes back around to the other side of the bed, carefully crawling over to lay down beside him, pillow propping up his head a bit as he lowers himself face down, reaching out to let the warm weight of his arm rest over Scully.

One by one, everything Warm in the room curls up around him. Maybe they know, maybe they don't. Maybe they just know he's cold and he shouldn't be. The fluffbugs settle around his feet, the pufftapod at the small of his back. He tilts his head for Tink without thinking, a little more tension melting off of his face.

He thinks he might miss his lusus, sometimes. He doesn't know if it's a biological function or a sentimental one.

He shakily lifts one rail-thin arm from the nest of covers for the bees to alight on, eyes fluttering a little as Tavros settles in.

It may have been harder to notice before, but Scully is so ... fragile. Smaller than ever now that his skin clings to him like paper. He was 4'11 to begin with, and under Tav's arm he probably feels like a ragdoll, chilly and gangle-edged.

Scully nestles up to his arm with a sound that might have been exertion, might have been a weak little trill. The bees bumble over his wrist, between his fingers as he curls himself up small against Tav's side.

His eyes crack open, and he tilts his head suddenly, towards the blank ceiling as if staring at something.

They know something, in the way beasts do. Tavros should probably know too, but.... they're just worried. He's worried too. He shifts closer to help share his own warmth, arm curling around him to pull him in when he strains, returning a quiet trill.

They all settle in, safe and warm and still, a half a dozen beating hearts, breathing slow. Scully looking up so suddenly rouses Tavros from drifting off. His eyes flutter open as he peeks over at him, humming a curious noise, soft and sleepy.

"Hmmm.... Scully?"

"Hm?"

His head twitches towards Tavros, but his eyes stay glued to the ceiling, silent. One of his hands scritches idly atop the worm-on-string's head. He sags with exhaustion, but his eyes remain open, fixed above them even in his drowsiness.

"You okay....?" He mumbles. He can't turn his head to see what he's looking at, but he shifts his arm slightly, his hand resting over his on top of Mischief's head.

"yeah."

Scully nods against his arm, nestling a little closer. His voice rests at a murmur. Peaceful, unhurried as he dozes.

"ii wa2 ju2t watchiing the 2tar2."

Tav smiles sleepily, gently squeezing his hand as he settles back down. He assumes he means the fairylights hung around the ceiling, forgetting for the moment that he's blind.

"Hope they're pretty...." He sighs, nuzzling back into his pillow to drift off to the sound of buzzing bees and ambient city noise playing on his palmhusk.

He always liked the city noise better.

Scully curls in on himself, nuzzles against Tavros--safe, and warm, and more cared-for than he has been since before Dart disappeared--and Sleeps.

(When the cool light of the moon washes in, and the room starts the take on a little chill, and the animals start to whine, Tavros can find him. Still curled up so, so small, so cold he must have been lying there for hours, eyes still half-lidded open, staring up at the Stars.)

It's the soft, sad mooing of his lusus that wakes him first, then the slight chill that rouses him. His hand still rests over cold, stuff fingers, and he pushes himself up as he starts to realize just how cold they are.

He stares down at him, slowly tuning into the beasts' emotions, Mischief squirmed out from under him to lay on his unmoving chest, Tink nosing sadly at his ear with mournful lows. He doesn't have to check, he knows through them, but still he gently squeezes his hand, murmurs "Scully?" before his breathing starts to catch and hiccup, before tears start streaming down his cheeks.

His face scrunches up, eyes squeezing tight as he starts to cry, shaking with open sobs as he leans over him, one hand holding his tight as the other gently brushes over his hair. The falling tears burst instantly into bright red flowers with black and white centers, greenery stretching from under them to slowly weave a carpet of tiny blue flowers beneath them.

He doesn't know how long he cries, but it's long enough that by the time he opens his sore eyes, his entire room has been carpeted in flowers of grief, coating the floor and climbing up the walls, tangling through his bookcase and out the window, and encircling Scully's still body in a bower of red and blue and black and white...

He... has to get out of here. He needs to get away, from this, from anything, everything. He shakily let's go of his hand, climbing off of the bed and stumbling a little to catch himself on his desk. He can't just leave him here though, can he?

He fumbles on the surface for his palmhusk, brushing away forget me nots and pushing at the screen with leaden fingers and bleary eyes. Ringleader was Scully's other caretaker. He could take care of this, because Tavros, just

Couldn't.

A brief message, and he shoves the device into his pocket, more out of habit than anything, Before stumbling his way out of the room. He stretches his wings out in the cool moonlight and flys away from it all without a second thought.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Blacker Than The Foulest Witch - II

Marauders x Reader - Young!Sirius x Reader eventually

A/N - This is the second part of the story - here’s Part I if you want to catch up.  Set during the 1st Wizarding War.  Quick warning! - This part contains some violent imagery (blood, etc.). Please be aware!  Taglist: @someinsanefangirl (I’m sorry if i forgot to tag someone? Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the future!)

Thank you so much for reading!

The sun was touching the black horizon with a faint red tip by the time the unlikely trio arrived to the Borough of Islington; tension hung heavy in the air, despite Potter’s attempts to diffuse it with bits of awkward small talk. Sirius did not speak, just watched the girl - Y/N - from the corner of his eye every time she made a quiet sound of approval, indicating that she’d actually been listening.

There was something entirely too perplexing about her. She moved with ease and almost swan-like elegance, seemed genuinely interested in whatever vague information Potter threw at her regarding their endeavours during this seemingly never-ending war… All in all, she didn’t seem stressed or hostile towards them.

However, when Sirius reached out his hand to her outside the mansion so that he could apparate her to his family home, she gave him a long and a very chilly look before telling him flat out that she’d rather not touch him.

He must have been quite a sight to contemplate once her answer reached his ears, for Potter gave him yet another warning look. Feeling like an utter moron, Sirius dropped his good hand to a side, his mouth a thin line.

“I will shadow you”, she simply said, like it was supposed to make all the sense in the world. Sirius caught himself frowning while Potter just shrugged. She did look like she knew exactly what she was doing, so none of them asked any more questions as they disappeared into the night. As expected, the girl was there, hot in their steps, as they arrived.

Sirius made sure no one followed them before he led James and Y/N to the square in front of 12 Grimmaud Place. The snarl on his face became even more apparent as they reached the porch. God, he still hated this place with passion - even now, despite it becoming the Order’s primary place of residence. Nothing could ever erase the memories beaten into those walls - or the hate they emanated.

As Sirius whispered the uncloaking spell under his breath and the house started to stretch, he could feel the girl’s intense stare on a side of his face. It had an almost tangible quality to it.

Oddly enough, when Y/N turned back to face the house, he almost missed the feeling of her gaze boring into him. Almost.

“Someone’s hurt”, she suddenly said, her body tensing like a drawn bowstring, her eyes fixed on the door. “He’s dying”, she added, turning her head just a little to a side, as if she was listening in on something.

Sirius felt his heart skip a beat as he shot James a panicked look. Potter’s eyes were wide as he ran up the porch, swinging the door wide open, barging in.

When Sirius burst through the doors, following him, he almost threw up - the stench of blood quickly filled his lungs like water, nearly drowning him in fear. The whole room was whipped into a frightened frenzy - he couldn’t make out any faces in the dim lighting as he rushed to the kitchen table. Even though the body’d been beaten into a bloody mess, one look at the man sufficed to put a name on the victim. Alastor Moody’s magical eye was spinning like an enchanted carousel in its orbit, begging them to do something - anything.

“Out of my way, Sirius!” with his eyes wide and his hands trembling, he felt Molly Weasley push him to a side as she hurried over to Moody with some nasty-smelling potion. He barely registered seeing Evans sitting at the table’s end, holding Alastor’s head in her bloody hands, her eyes pooling with tears.

“I’m so sorry, Alastor, dear, this will hurt”, Molly whispered as if not trusting her voice, pouring the potion all over his ribcage. Despite the pain it must have caused him (as the potion came in contact with his torn-apart skin, it sounded like an egg frying in a red-hot pan), Moody didn’t even utter a sound.

“Molly…” Sirius heard Remus speak from somewhere behind him, breath still caught in his throat. Lupin’s voice sounded so far away… “Molly, there’s nothing… There’s nothing we can do, just…”

“Don’t you boss me around, Remus!” she snapped at him without looking, still perched over Alastor’s body with the potion bottle clenched tight in her tiny hand. “Just another drop, Alastor, last one, I promise…”

“Molly…” someone spoke, their voice hoarse and low - as if they had been screaming for days. “Molly, stop”.

When the red-headed young woman spinned around to face him, with her usually smiling face distorted with pain, Sirius realized that the voice belonged to him.

A barely there sob escaped Lilly’s mouth as she dropped her head like a broken doll; the sound of it so sad, it seemed to break Sirius out of his stupor.

His breaths were now rugged; the rage seemed to take his body and his mind prisoners as he turned around on his heels, pushing his way out of the house.

“Sirius”, he heard Lupin’s voice again, a faint attempt to stop him.

When he didn’t listen, Molly’s shrill tone nearly made his ears bleed.

“Sirius Orion Black! Stop this very second!”

He paid her no mind, running straight into Arthur. They collided in the doorway - seeing nothing but red, Sirius pushed Weasley into the wall, marching on, blood roaring in his ears.

“Just where do you think you’re going, huh?”

He could swear she appeared out of nowhere; lilac sparkles dancing on the surface of her frozen eyes. Her hands crossed on her chest, she flashed him a valiant look. In the back of his feverish mind, Sirius caught himself marvelling at how small she actually was, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders; yet the craving for blood pushed him forward. She might as well have been the death itself - there was no way of stopping him now.

Without even as much as a quick glance at her beautiful face, Sirius made an attempt to sidestep her… Before he knew it, he was shoved aside, straight into the ancient clock he hated, the wood of the intricate design moaning under his weight.

The force with which she’d pushed him away, like he weighted nothing, left him lying there in the remainders of the family heirloom, gawking at her like a flabbergasted idiot.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one - a new wave of shock with a taste of terror spread all around the room like cancer eating at a body. As if expecting this kind of reaction, Y/N didn’t hesitate as she made her way to Alastor’s lifeless body.

She stopped just a few steps short of the table.

Half-closing her eyes, as if she were in some kind of trance, she rolled her head back, her lips slightly opened. A soft sigh escaped her mouth as she slowly brought her hands into the air, their movements slow and delicate, like those of a ballerina. Her words were barely a whisper as the strands of her hair danced around her head, soft warm glow forming slowly all around her.

Nobody moved. Completely mesmerised and helpless, all they could do was watch.

The air now buzzed with tender kind of energy as quiet sounds of gentle voices echoed in the room. When Y/N  lowered her head at last, her eyes fluttered open - her irises shone like liquid gold. With an almost sensual moan, she closed her eyes again, throwing her head back and arching her back.

Sirius watched, hypnotised and unblinking, failing to believe his eyes.

Pure white light, like curls of dense glimmering fog flowed out of her chest; it writhed and creamed, without a sound whatsoever, like a thought trying to form itself on the edge of consciousness. Slowly at first; then all of the sudden it all poured out, blinding and all too warm, caressing Black’s bruised cheekbone, but most importantly, his hand, just moments ago broken to bits.

The glass in the room sang; the chandelier cried softly and then the light started to fade. Sirius blinked something fierce, trying to see without the bright-coloured spots blocking his vision. He was able to catch the last remnants of light as it faded in Y/N’s eyes, before she closed them on a heavy sigh.

A round of suffocating cough filled the room followed by a heavy thump. With his face still covered in blood, Alastor Moody rolled off the table and fell, rather ungraciously, on the dusty floor.

Still staring at Y/N open-mouthed, with her eyes rounder than two galleons and just as shiny, Mollie rushed to Alastor’s side. Once she saw his eyes and heard his mile-long curses signaling that he was, indeed, very much alive, Molly cried out in relief, squishing Moody’s head in her tight embrace.

“You reckless bastard, what in Godric’s name did you do!” Potter cursed out loud, brushing nervous fingers through his hair, wet trails still glistening on his cheeks. His eyes never quit Moody’s frame.

“Come off it, James, he almost died!” Lily chastised him rather weakly, now sitting on her knees, by Moody’s side as well. “How are you feeling, Alastor?” she asked softly, “How do-“

“I died,” Moody suddenly said, sitting up straight as his hands roamed all over his chest. “Those sons of witches, they ambushed me! They-“ he stopped mid sentence, not sensing any cuts or broken ribs under his touch. “What did you- I died, I felt them kill me!”

And the world seemed to freeze all over again, as if enchanted by Alastor’s words. Every person in the room - Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Alastor Moody and Sirius Black - turned their eyes towards the girl who brought the wizard from the dead.

In her usual nonchalant yet not overconfident fashion, Y/N slowly raised her chin.

“Do excuse me for intruding on your secret…” she gave it a quick thought. “Fight Club”, she continued with a raise of her eyebrows. “But does any of you know where I can find Igor Karkaroff?…” -

The corridor had been quiet for nearly ten minutes now. Clearing his throat, Remus stole a look at his waiting companion.

With her head resting on her left shoulder, she appeared to be sleeping; but Lupin knew better. The moment the commotion from Moody’s revival settled, and his eyes fell on Y/N he immediately recognised her as one of them. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise - during his long werewolf career, he learned to pick up the signs, no matter how subtle they were.

It was in the curve of her neck. In the movements of her wrists. It was sleeping upon her lips.

The suffering.

He recognised her as one of them - one of his own - one of those who were destined to struggle all their lives for the choices that were made for them.

He didn’t know her story but he knew. 

Remus knew that Y/N was one of them.

“So you just brought her here!” Moody’s booming voice whipped the walls of the study again, echoing in the hall.  “No questions asked, nothing! You just rolled out the red carpet straight into one of our secret locations because you felt like it! Would you like to whip her a Butter Beer now that she’s here? Maybe offer her some biscuits?”

Remus squirmed at Alastor’s words. For someone who had very narrowly escaped death just mere moment ago, he sure had some strength in those windpipes.

Cursing the reason for which he was, de facto, still alive.

“Don’t… Don’t listen to him”, Remus spoke at once, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, not looking at Y/N. “He can’t think straight… He was dead just five minutes ago, after all”, Remus reasoned more with himself, nodding his head eagerly.

He stopped dead, however, as soon as a soft melodious laugh reached his ears. Sharply turning his head to face his companion, Remus felt a smile emerging on his scarred lips against his will.

Y/N wasn’t asleep anymore (that is if she’d been sleeping at all). She sat straight in the leather chair by the dirty window, bringing her legs to hug them close to her chest. Throwing her hair to a side, she faced Remus, her features relaxed and peaceful.

“I don’t blame him,” she said with a soft shrug. “I would probably be just as pissed if I was him. I mean… “ she paused, a mischievous gleam glazing over her eyes. “…He was, indeed, dead just five minutes ago”.

Remus held her stare for as long as he could - until the two of them burst out in a fit of infectious laughter, nearly missing on Sirius’ response coming from the other side of the door.

“You have some nerve, Alastor. She brought you back from the dead!!” Black roared like a wounded animal. “I don’t trust her and I don’t think I ever will, but we have to give her a chance to tell us her story before we jump straight to conclusions - we owe her at least that!”

The sound of his voice seemed to bring both Remus and Y/N back to the real world - where a war was raging outside the walls and where wizards were dying by dozens with every passing hour.

“He actually sounds like he doesn’t hate me”, Y/N observed out loud, a bit impressed.

“Who, Sirius?” Remus pushed back against his seat, folding his hands on his chest. “If your surname isn’t Black, then you have nothing to worry about”.

Y/N grunted in response, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“I think I heard him whispering to James that I was probably “Blacker” than his mother”, she shifted her gaze to face Remus again. “Do you think that counts?”

Lupin chuckled whole-heartedly.

“A profession of love? So soon?” he faked astonishment.

A soft laugh bubbled out of Y/N’s chest; it was cut short, however, by the slamming of the door as Alastor Moody resurfaced from the study, his face so red, Remus almost got afraid the veins in his neck would pop like champagne bottles.

“We would like to ask you a few questions, Miss…” Moody managed through gritted teeth, stepping aside to welcome her into the room.

“Y/N”, with her usual grace of a swan, she rose to her feet, throwing Moody a wicked smile. “I would, however, expect a man to remember the name of his saviour”.

Something sounding a lot like a chortle reached her ears, right before Remus cleared his throat.

Gritting his teeth some more, Moody mentioned for Y/N to come in.

His bright blue eye then focused on Remus.

“We won’t wait for Dumbledore”, Alastor announced curtly. “Fetch the Weasleys and Evans, Lupin. I’m sure they’d love to hear the witches’ story.”

[subverbaldreams]

Asylum in Winter

Chapter 9:  Sir

(smut)

Pairing:  Bucky x Steve in this chapter. (storyline also contains Bucky x Venom and Bucky x Rumlow)

Overall Synopsis: Venom and Rumlow help Bucky escape Hydra to go find the man from the bridge. Mayhem ensues. And sex…lots of sex.

This chapter: loving, dominant Steve, Bucky’s memory loss, Bucky waking up after having his trigger words spoken, jealous Steve & Rumlow, 1.7k words

*******************

Steve’s stomach is in knots. Every time Bucky’s breathing changes he leans forward in his chair, hopeful yet terrified to see those eyes open. It’s not fear of another attack, but fear of the emptiness. Fear that nothing remains inside the body of the man he’d loved except Hydra’s killing machine. No compassion, no conscience, no heart.

Calm down, he tells himself for the hundredth time. He escaped from Hydra for a reason.

Unless, his mind whispers, that reason was Rumlow.

Bucky is laid out on a plush leather couch, towels underneath him to keep blood and dirt off the furniture. The scratches on his throat have all vanished, but there’s a suspicious row of bruises still tattooed into his skin that look like—they can’t be—hickeys. 

Outside, birds wheel joyously around fir trees and sunlight reflects up from the water below. He’d had to call in a favor to get access to this lake house, but he trusts Tony Stark at least enough to stay out of this one. He may have told a slightly skewed version of the truth to get here, but for Bucky’s sake he’d do a lot worse.

Bucky’s been out cold for the last four hours, after being put down twice more by whatever that black stuff is; Rumlow refuses to tell him. The scumbag finally, finally got out of Steve’s hair to go shower a few minutes ago; he’d been hovering over Bucky like a vulture protecting its meal.

A sharp intake of breath. Steve leans in. Bucky’s eyelashes flutter, then his eyes slit open.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes.

Bucky’s face contorts as if in pain. Steve reaches out to touch his shoulder, but Bucky jerks back from him, eyes flying wide open.

 ***

 Blue eyes. Blond hair. A voice. A name.

“Bucky,” the man murmurs, and the sound itself means nothing but the voice—that voice. A flood of longing roars through the soldier’s chest, so barbed with the edges of forgotten dreams that he’s lost in it for a second.

Only a second. Then he realizes where he’d been only a moment before, on the field of battle, and there had been a voice in his head, changing him, owning him. Everything after that is a blur like spilled paint. All he knows for certain is that Hydra had taken him back, at least for a time.

He jumps up, rolls off the furniture while reaching for his knife (it’s gone) and then his gun (also gone) while doing a quick sweep of the room. They’re alone. 

His agent should be here. The soldier can think of only one reason why he isn’t.

“Did I kill him?” he blurts out, his voice cracking over the word “kill.” 

“Who? Rumlow?” The man’s voice goes hard as he says the name. The soldier tries to remember if that name fits the right person.

Yes, Venom interjects. Brock Rumlow is the name of our agent. The soldier nods and the man answers, “No. He’s fine,” in a voice cold as ice.

Have to find him, the soldier thinks, but Venom responds: He is here. He and the Cap have been antagonizing each other for hours and he went to a different room. Finally, it adds in a grumble.

The cap? the soldier repeats, confused all over again. But the blond man has stood up and is walking toward him, one hand slightly lifted as if to touch him. The soldier backs up warily. His mission is complete, it seems; he’s found the man from the bridge, but nothing is any clearer. The pictures in his head are just as elusive and disjointed as ever.

“Hey, easy, Buck. D’you remember me at all?”

The soldier shakes his head. One backward step after another. “I don’t know you.”

But I knew him.

He draws in a hiss of breath. 

He is here, inside of your mind, Venom affirms. You know him.

“No,” the soldier says out loud. His heel hits the edge of the wall, forcing him to stop his retreat. He should raise his arms. Protect himself. But he’s utterly still as the man’s hand closes the gap between them and lightly brushes against his jaw. The man’s face shows no aggression. His eyes are soft—and, the soldier realizes with a strange, giddy swirl, full of tears.

“You know me. You do,” he insists when the soldier shakes his head. “That’s why you left Hydra, isn’t it?”

That, the soldier can’t answer. Because it’s true, he had left Hydra to find this man, but now that he’s got him, the soldier doesn’t know what to do about it. He hadn’t planned beyond the search. There is no plan beyond any search, except to eliminate the target.

Everything has changed.

“My name’s Steve. Remember? You used to call me Stevie.”

He shakes his head again. The man’s fingers have traced behind his ear now and it makes the skin tingle all the way down his neck on that side.

“And your name is Bucky Barnes, and you know me.”

“No, I don’t!” The soldier shoves the other man with both hands, sending him skidding back six feet. Venom whirls through him, forcing calm into limbs which feel electrified with adrenaline. He’s shaking all over. “That’s not my name. I don’t know you.”

He is our mission. We came to find him.

“Shut up,” the soldier hisses between his teeth. He feels weightless, like he’s stepped out onto a tightrope and it’s fallen suddenly out from underneath him. Like he’s falling and falling and he doesn’t know what’s down below. He takes no defensive measures as the man closes back in on him. Line of heat across the front of his body, heavy weight pushing him back against the wall. The man is breathing as heavily as he is, though there’s no reason for it. He isn’t afraid, isn’t angry—not exactly—nothing about his behavior makes sense. 

His knee wedges between the soldier’s legs. The soldier knows he should move, should block that leg and make space between them, but there’s this scent, along with the weight and the position. It smells like crawling under barbed wire and drinking arm in arm at night. It smells like being held, and being held down, but not in the ways he’s known with Hydra. 

Something deep and old inside his chest rips open and comes out of his mouth in a strange, whimpering moan.

“Tell me you don’t remember this,” the man growls in his ear, then his thick thigh rises between the soldier’s legs, a kick against his instep lifts one of his feet off the ground and a hand on his ass guides his hips so he’s riding that thigh, cock grinding against the junction of the man’s thigh and hip. Another hand on his throat; the grip is firm, bordering on cruel. The man takes nearly all of the soldier's weight onto his thigh and moves the hand from his ass to fist in his hair and jerk his head back. Another whimper wrenches out of him as the man’s mouth crashes down onto his, not to kiss but to bite, painful and wet, pulling his lip away from his teeth. He grabs wildly at the man’s shoulders, starts to twist away but he can’t make himself do it; that grinding leg has him pushing right back like a dog humping its master and something about that…about all of this…

The man’s tongue dives into his mouth and any coherent ideas fly from his mind. There is nothing but sensation. Head forced into a sideways bend to open him for the man’s ravaging mouth. Fingertips and thumb clamped around his throat, making his head light. Fist pulling his hair back, controlling him. Five o’clock shadow scraping his lips raw, the man’s heavy, insistent weight, that scent which is everything he never knew, never thought he needed to know and it’s all so much, it’s cresting, it’s crashing over him—

“Aaah!! Aaaaaahhh!!!”

The man eats the screams out of his mouth as the orgasm takes his whole body in a hurricane blast. He ruts helplessly into the man’s thigh, grinding out every last shudder.

“There’s my boy,” the man grunts, face rooting into the hair behind his ear and thick body pushing him even harder into the wall, panting like he’s just run for miles. The soldier feels the man’s huge, hard cock pressed up against him through their pants. He’s locked into that eternal moment between one breath and another when the man’s voice, rough with hunger, growls against his neck:

“Sir is very happy with you.”

The soldier’s next breath doesn’t come. His eyes fly wide open. Venom, swimming drunkenly inside him on the waves of their orgasm, freezes as well and it’s as though they’ve become no more animated than a photograph. A snapshot in time. Something like warm sleet, if there were such a thing, rains through the soldier’s body from head to toes and turns his legs to water. He can’t hold himself up and the man doesn’t try to help him do it, either; the man controls his fall, putting him on his knees, and this is RIGHT. He BELONGS here. It’s better than a memory; his entire being knows this. He looks up into a face that’s flushed and panting. The man’s eyes have turned wild and dark: an endless ocean filled with starving predators. His rigid, clothed cock is just inches from the soldier’s mouth. The man cradles his face in both hands to gaze down at him, one angled to cup his throat in a gentle reminder of a crueler grip, and the soldier reaches up to hold the backs of the man’s hands with a reverence that shivers down to his very core. The smell of him, his touch, his voice, what he’d said—

Sir. The title dances just behind his tongue. 

He doesn’t know what will happen if he says it out loud, only that it will be different than any other time he’s said it; to this man, to the two of them, it means something different.

And I KNOW him.

The soldier’s mouth opens.

Click-clack of metal against metal. The soldier reacts instinctively, twisting into a crouch, ready to spring in any direction as he and the man both swivel toward the sound.

His agent stands there, gun pointed at the man (at Steve) in a two handed grip. He’s shirtless, belt off and his hair dripping wet.

“Back the fuck up, Cap. NOW.”

******************

The rest of the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950409/chapters/79128799

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Thorin x Siren!Reader: Sink or Swim

(Author’s Note: Soooo, I was conflicted about writing a non-human reader, but here we are!  Just so you know, the reader isn’t necessarily a “siren,” like the type to drown sailors: she is more like a regular mermaid.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!  Thank you for being so patient while I take forever to publish new fics!  I’ve had a lot going on, and I appreciate the support!)

   Thranduil was suddenly very quiet, blue eyes flickering from Thorin to you.  You withdrew, hugging your torso as if you could hide.  The Company leader beside you noticed your fear and stepped forward in an attempt to shield you from the blonde elf’s probing gaze.

  The Company were now prisoners of the Mirkwood realm after wandering the mysterious forest for some time and having a gruesome encounter with giant spiders.  You had fortunately been rescued by the Mirkwood guard only to unfortunately be captured and brought to the halls of Thranduil.

  Thorin had been summoned to speak with Thranduil himself, and for some reason you were dragged along with him.  Now you stood before the Mirkwood ruler with Thorin seeking to protect you and your identity.

  “Please,” Thranduil scoffed.  His robes trailed elegantly behind him as he took strides across the floor.  “Do not think you can hide from me, Siren.  Elf eyes see things that many others cannot.”

  Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest.  With one look, he knew who you were.  You had never encountered Mirkwood dwellers before, and you had no idea they had such good eyesight

  The question was: what would he do with this knowledge?

  As was your fear during the entirety of the journey so far, you wondered if he might keep you prisoner.  Sirens were sought after for the treasure that was inlaid in their scales.  It wasn’t uncommon for these gemstones and pieces of gold to drop off for a fortunate individual to find in shallow waters; however, if someone had the skill and means to capture a siren, they’d end up very wealthy.  Not to mention sirens in general were rarely found, but when they were, they’d sometimes be kept by the extremely wealthy for entertainment.  What if you were separated from the Company and kept here?

  “Fear not,” Thranduil halted your spiraling train of thought.  “I have no use for you.  I do not seek the riches of the seas.”  He looked at Thorin.  “You seek the Arkenstone, that which would bestow upon you the right to rule.  There are gems in the mountain that I too desire…white gems of pure starlight.  I offer you my help.”

  Thorin raised a brow.  “I am listening.”

  Thranduil tipped his head to the side, eyes fixed on the Company leader.  You could see the rigidity of their rivalry that had built up over generations.  “I will let you go if you but return what is mine.” 

  Even with the situation at hand, you felt a minnow-sized dash of hope.  Thranduil didn’t seem cruel, just eccentric.  It was clear that he simply wanted to cut a deal and be done with things.  Perhaps the situation would work out after all.

  “A favor for a favor,” Thorin mused, turning his back to Thranduil. 

  That bit of hope you felt earlier diminished like the setting sun behind the sea line.  The Company leader had a strange expression, and you got a funny feeling he would refuse the deal even at the cost of the journey.  He hadn’t been very fond of Rivendell, and the inhabitants there were very kind and generous.  Something told you he wouldn’t take too kindly to being bribed by this fellow.

  Your heart sunk as Thorin turned down Thranduil’s offer.  The willowy ruler maintained a cold stare at the Company leader before giving the order to have him thrown in the dungeon with the others.  You were to be put in a cell alone.

  Despite Thorin’s stubbornness, his eyes softened when he saw the fear flashing in your eyes for a brief moment.  He knew very well why you feared being captured and contained, since you had told him in confidence a while back.  You tucked away the feeling, and a bitterness took its place.  Bitterness that Thorin could not be rid of his pride even in a situation like this.  Not only did you feel he was betraying you, but he was jeopardizing the mission he claimed to care so much for.

  As you were being pulled away, Thorin bellowed your name.

  You paced in the narrow cell, arms folded.  Your only comfort was the occasional, echoing hollers of the rest of your Company somewhere else in the dungeon.

  Your feet ached.  It was so dry here.  How you longed to swim in the deep again!

  This journey only seemed to cause you pain.  From the beginning, you were chosen to leave your home and accompany the group to reclaim Erebor.  

  You did it for your people.  

  Long ago, sirens and dwarves were distant trading partners.  A fraction of treasure that the dragon Smaug so greedily guarded was indeed siren jewels and goods.  When Erebor was taken from its rightful people, it was a financial blow to the sirens who dealt in land-goods.

  Upon hearing of the opportunity to restore Erebor and resume trade, the leader of your world called on very few that he trusted to join the Company on this expedition.  The others refused to travel on land for so long.  Only you were willing to go to such lengths.  Even so, you weren’t entirely enthusiastic about it.  It was a job, a duty.

  So, here you were many months later, locked in a cell, so close and yet so far away from the nearest body of water surrounding what they call “Lake-Town.”

  Oh.  Also...  As if things weren’t complicated enough, you had fallen for a certain Company leader, too.

  Which also brought more heartache when he was the reason for you being locked in this cell.

  Sirens used to be a romantic bunch.  It wasn’t entirely surprising for them to forge bonds with land-dwellers.  It was curious, but not unheard of, since they have a history of being fascinated with the world above.  Nonetheless, as times grew darker on land, it became less common for such things to occur.  They hid from all but dwarves, and even then contact was limited.

  It made you feel silly.  Every time your heart skipped a beat, you felt silly.  Every time his voice gave you comfort, or you sought to comfort him in return.

  Hours passed.  At one point, you had curled up on the splintery bench for a nap.  At least you could enjoy the sound of the waterfall.  Your eyelids shot open when someone whispered your name.

  “Bilbo?” You mumbled.  “Is that you?”

  “Shh,” he hushed.  “Yes, it’s me.  Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”  Keys jingled, and the door popped open.  You emerged from the cell and wrapped your arms around the little hobbit.  “Thank you, Bilbo.”

  He glanced up at you, cheeks red and eyebrows raised.  “You’re very welcome.  Now let’s go.  There’s not much time.”

  Thorin was waiting off to the side, and as soon as Bilbo scurried to lead the others out of the dungeon, he was in front of you.  “_________,” he said, gazing deeply into your eyes, his own filled with regret.  “I am sorry.”

  You knew what he meant, and while you appreciated the gesture, now was not the time.

  “It’s alright, I forgive you,” you replied.  “But let’s discuss this later.”

  He nodded and turned to follow the others out.  Inwardly, you were pleased that he paused even for a moment to acknowledge his prideful mistake.  You hurried after the group, tired.

  The rest was a bit of a blur.  Before you knew it, you were hiding in a barrel with the others arguing and complaining in their respective barrels around you.  Bilbo had led you all there, and Thorin insisted that you trust the hobbit.  

  You already did, but the others still needed convincing from time to time.  They tended to underestimate him.

  Suddenly, the barrel was rolling. 

  And then you were plunged into freezing water.

  Once you had recovered, you were able to comprehend the relief you felt at being in the water again. The transformation happened so quickly. Soon, you glanced down and saw the familiar glistening of (favorite color) scales and the sparkling treasure that was inlaid. You gave a powerful kick and swam out of the barrel into the strong current of the river. The current was no match for your experience in the water. You were able to pause and glance up at your friends being thrown around in barrels on the surface.  The poor dears.

  You glided forward, looking ahead to see the river gate closing.  Someone must have sounded an alarm above signaling the prisoners’ escape.  The others were scooped up against the gate in their barrels, but it looked like Kili was making an attempt to pull the lever to open it.

  Through the surface, you saw him get shot by an arrow.

  An orc arrow.

  As if escaping from Thranduil’s prison wasn’t difficult enough…

  It was time for the others to see what you could do.  You’d told them stories, but now they could see what you were talking about.

  Breaking through the water’s surface, you looked to Thorin.

  “Cover your ears!” you yelled.

  He nodded and barked the order to the others.   

  You went underwater to gain momentum as you swam up again.  Mid-air, you reached deep into your chest and let out a screech-soong. It was a way to ward off predators in the ocean, and you were told it could do some serious damage to land-dwellers who heard it.

  Some orcs fell over, ears literally bleeding.  The stronger ones (or perhaps they simply had bad hearing) remained standing but were knocked back by the sound.  It had halted them long enough for the Company to regain control of the battle.  A few of your friends had stolen orc weapons and were using them against the enemy.

  You ducked underwater as a few arrows whizzed by.  Your move made you a target.

  Fortunately, the Company came to your aid.  Thorin cut the orcs down swiftly, glancing at you to ensure you were safe.  Fili and Kili also pitched in, throwing you a barrel to use as a shield of sorts.  After using it to block some arrows and a sword attack, you continued to put it to good use.  You launched it from the water to hit a group of orcs, knocking them down.

  Bofur nodded, impressed.  “Very nice!”

  “Thank you!” you nodded back.  With a wave of your hand, water shot from the river and knocked down another orc that was ready to throw a blade at Thorin.  You were intrigued when you saw the she-elf with the long, red hair aiding the Company.  The one who you recognized to be Thranduil’s son also joined in the effort.

  The number of orcs dwindled as the river’s current carried the Company farther away from Mirkwood.  It was easier for you to swim at this point, but without a current, the orcs would catch up to the others.

  Thorin ordered that all head to the shore, and you sighed.  How wonderful.  More land.

  You floated into the shallows reluctantly, closing your eyes to enjoy the feel of the cold water for just a moment longer.  When they opened, you saw two boots on the shore in front of you.  Thorin knelt down, eyes soft, as he reached forward with his hand.  In the past, when anyone reached toward you in the water, your fight or flight instincts kicked in.  But for some reason, you remained still.  It was most likely because you finally had grown to trust Thorin immensely. 

  His movement was careful as he reached into the water beside you.  When his hand returned, it was grasping something.  He relaxed his fist to reveal a piece of gold resting on the palm.  His beautiful blue eyes that reminded you of the sea stared at you in wonder.

  “Does it cause you pain?”  The question was asked so gently, like one far younger than he was.

  “When the treasure falls?” you clarified.  “No, I don’t notice.  It only hurts if it’s taken off forcefully.”

  Thorin nodded, thinking this over as he presented the gold to you.

  You shook your head.  “Keep it.  I have nowhere to keep it anymore.”

  While he hesitated, you pulled yourself up to the shore and focused on returning to your land form.  Your pants had been torn down the middle in the transformation, so now you were left with something that resembled a tattered skirt.

  “Here ya go, lassie,” Bofur spoke up beside you, tossing a new pair of pants.  They were soaked, like the rest of the leftover supplies, but they weren’t ripped at least.

  “Thank you,” you chuckled.  A warm hand wrapped around one of yours, pulling you to your feet with ease.  Thorin’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before you finally convinced yourself to break away to change into the new clothes.

  What a journey this was.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Basketball Court Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Note: This is a cancelled date which will unlikely come to EN :’(

More from this Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC in the gym. She comments that it’s usually fully packed, and today is no exception. While leaving, she coincidentally meets Gavin at the entrance. 

He offers to send her home (even though he just arrived lol). He also invites her to join him for outdoor sports next time.

MC: Sure, but what are we going to do? A night run? Or our usual running?

Gavin: Let’s do something different. I’ll teach you basketball.

Basketball?!

This term leaves me shocked, and I suddenly feel like fleeing…

Even though getting smacked by the ball was something that happened back in high school, just the memory of it leaves me feeling faint.

It is nothing but a shadow of life.

MC: …but I have no idea how to play basketball...

Gavin: It’s okay, exercising is the main point.

MC: …

Gavin: Don’t worry, I’m here.

I look towards Gavin, his eyes carrying with it assurance, as though calling me to trust him.

MC: Mm… I’ll give it a try then! …don’t make fun of me if I play badly!

Gavin: Of course I wouldn’t. Are you free this weekend? I can pick you up.

I nod, agreeing to a date that I am both anticipating yet slightly worried about.

-

On Saturday afternoon, Gavin and I head to the outdoor court in Central Park. Although it is still morning, the courts already have quite a number of people.

I take in my surroundings and discover that most of the people consist of school boys, their movements bursting with energy. The sheer number of basketballs flying around the courts leave me shocked, and I unconsciously shirk backwards.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: …I don’t know how to play basketball…

I lower my head and stare at my sport shoes, unable to say the five words: “I am afraid of basketball”.

Gavin hands me the ball.

Gavin: I picked up basketball late, and only started in Junior High.

MC: ?

Gavin: Back then, I was quite short so the seniors made fun of me. A year later, they couldn’t win against me.

I’m left flabbergasted. Minor mentioned that Gavin is amazing at basketball, but I didn’t expect to hear such a story behind it.

Although Gavin only gave me a brief summary, I know that he must have gone through a lot, and put in much effort during that one year.

Gavin: MC, enjoying the process of exercising is more important than anything else.

There is a smile on Gavin’s face.

He… must really like basketball. I can almost imagine him in the court, playing to his heart’s content.

Realising how much Gavin likes basketball, it no longer seems that frightening.

I muster my courage and pat the basketball, crinkling my eyes into a smile.

MC: A goal of mine today is to throw the ball through the hoop once! I’m going to trouble Coach Gavin to teach me from now onwards!

Gavin freezes for a moment.

Gavin: All right.

Gavin does a simple dribbling demonstration. It’s as though the basketball can understand his every command, remaining entirely in Gavin’s control.

I take a deep breath, deciding not to care about the flying basketballs around me. I focus on learning how to dribble the ball.

My current standard limits me to dribbling the ball in position. With a slight movement of my foot, the ball rolls away…

MC: I didn’t think dribbling the ball would be so difficult…

Gavin: There’s no rush, I’ll help to correct your movements.

I nod, cheering myself on once again.

Although my posture is awkward and odd, it seems like… basketball isn’t that scary after all…

Standing beside me, Gavin rests his hand on the small of my back.

Gavin: Relax a little more, your movements can’t be too stiff.

The warmth from his palm seeps through the thin material of my sports outfit, finding its way onto my skin.

It is only now that I realise how close we are. Just a slight lean of my head is enough to make contact with his face.

His eyebrows are bathed in sunlight, casting him in a gentle glow.

Gavin: When doing a low dribble, let your wrist be the axis. Use your wrist and the strength in your fingers to dribble. Like this.

His other hand gently holds onto my wrist. The resulting warmth and the warmth at my back mix together, painting my face a slight tinge of red.

I find myself in a daze, and am unable to speak for a long time.

Gavin’s eyes trail from the basketball to my face. Looking at my dazed state, the seriousness in his lips turns into a smile.

Gavin: Do you know what to do now?

His low voice and warm breaths enter my ear.

I unconsciously avoid his gaze, but accidentally make contact with his arm when dribbling the ball.

With a light cough, Gavin releases his hold on me. He rubs his neck, his ears turning red.

I apply Gavin’s techniques, and find that dribbling does become much easier.

Gavin: Try taking a few steps.

I try taking a few steps forward.

After an early afternoon of “intimate contact” with basketball, I no longer have a phobia of it. However, it is still difficult to master. With a slight movement, the ball rolls to a corner.

Gavin hands me the ball, comforting me once again.

Gavin: It’d be fine after you try a few more times.

Before I can say anything, I hear a man’s voice coming from the side.

Random man: If you’re playing like that, don’t take up space on the court!

Three young men are standing at the side of the basketball court. The one who just spoke has short hair.

Gavin moves to stand in front of me:

Seeing this, the short-haired man starts laughing.

Random man: Give us the court and go elsewhere to concentrate on your date! Your girlfriend can’t play well anyway haha!

The other two men join in the laughter.

I’m a little embarrassed and at a loss for words.

Gavin sweeps his eyes over them, then pulls me towards the basketball hoop, ignoring the three men.

It seems to be the first time the short-haired man has experienced being slighted, and his expression turns ugly.

Random Man: Let’s have a match. Whoever wins will get the court! How does that sound - do you dare to take me on?

Hearing this, Gavin stops and turns to look at him. The short-haired man laughs even more exaggeratedly.

Random Man: You’d lose out if it’s a 2-on-2 though, considering how your girlfriend doesn’t know how to play haha! I’ll give you a chance, how does a 1-on-1 sound?

I tug at the corner of Gavin’s shirt, a little worried.

Gavin: It’s fine.

Gavin assures me in a low voice, and then faces the three men.

Gavin: I’ll take on all three of you.

I widen my eyes in shock, and the three men are also visibly taken aback.

MC: ?!

The three men: What?!

Gavin: If you don’t dare to, then leave.

Random Man: Hmph, don’t accuse us of bullying you later!

An unplanned match begins. The rules are simple – whoever gets the ball through the hoop first wins.

Gavin takes on a casual posture as he dribbles the ball. Although he is alone, he exudes the aura of an entire team. The three men remain in front of the hoop, defending cautiously.

I am filled with a sudden spurt of spirit, running to the court and shouting:

MC: All the best Gavin!

Gavin doesn’t look towards me, but he suddenly goes on the offensive!

He is undeterred by the attempts of the three men to block him. The wind tousles his hair, and sunlight is reflected off his earring and into my eyes.

Building momentum with his spring-like movements, he takes a large leap. The sweat on his brow slides off his face and enters the air, glistening in the light.

He has a serious look on his face, entirely focused on the ball.

With a lift of his hand, the ball leaves the palm of his hand and fingers, forming a perfect parabola in the air.

With a “thud”, the ball steadily goes through the hoop!

MC: Amazing!

The three men are rooted to the spot, their expressions betraying utter disbelief.

-

After another period of training, I finally learn the basics of dribbling.

Gavin: Very good.

MC: It’s all thanks to your good teaching… even I find myself stupid…

Thinking of Gavin’s beautiful form when he shot the ball through the hoop, my heart does a flip.

MC: Um… could you teach me how to shoot next?

He nods and takes the ball. Within the span of a breath, Gavin dribbles the ball towards the net. The ball once again goes through the hoop!

MC: You’re amazing!

I copy Gavin’s movements, but the ball I toss completely misses the mark. The ball doesn’t even touch the board, much less the hoop.

MC: This is too difficult…

No matter how many times I try, the result is still the same… the basketball is in a completely different state when in my hands and Gavin’s.

I release a sigh.

Gavin moves to stand behind me, pulling both my hands over the top of my head, correcting my posture.

Gavin: Like this.

Perhaps due to our strenuous exercise, both of our breaths are warm. The temperature of the air surrounding us rises as a result.

My hands tremble and the basketball falls to the ground, rolling away.

Gavin: [coughs lightly] …let’s try again, following the same action as before.

MC: Okay…

I take deep breaths and try shooting the ball again, with slight improvements.

The temperature rises as noon sets in. Without realizing it, my forehead is completely drenched with sweat.

At this moment, a cool and refreshing object is pressed against my cheek.

I jump at the sudden coldness, whipping my head around to see Gavin standing behind me.

His lifts his head as he drinks from his bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

The contents of the bottle refract the sunlight, morphing the white rays into a colorful, tiny rainbow.

Gavin: Drink some water.

MC: Mm!

I open the can and prepare to down several gulps, but Gavin stops me.

Gavin: Don’t drink too much. You’ve just finished exercising.

I nod, drinking a few small mouthfuls. The blazing heat of the day has left me in a slight trance.

Suddenly, a basketball comes flying towards me!

Before I can react, I find myself wrapped in a hug.

Gavin shifts us to the side quickly, avoiding the ball.

Gavin: MC, are you all right?!

MC: …

My eyes are wide. Gavin furrows his eyebrows, his expression worried.

The owner of the ball apologises profusely.

MC: I… I’m fine…

Looking at my frightened expression, Gavin holds my hand.

Gavin: That’s all for today. Let’s go.

MC: …why so sudden?

Gavin: You were really scared just now.

Gavin opens his mouth as though about to say something, but simply holds my hand tightly.

Could he have sensed that I’m afraid of basketball…

With this in mind, I summon my courage.

MC: I haven’t fulfilled my goal for today!

Seeing my smile, Gavin relaxes.

MC: Could you give me a demonstration again? I’ll definitely learn it this time!

Gavin nods, bringing me to a safer area on the court. He demonstrates how to dribble and shoot the ball.

Gavin: Try again?

MC: Okay!

Mimicking his posture, I take a leap, both arms raised over my head, exerting strength in my wrist to throw the ball…

The ball circles the hoop twice and falls through the hoop!

MC: !!!

I jump up excitedly, turning around and running to Gavin, excited to the point that I can barely form coherent sentences.

MC: Gavin, you, you saw that right! It went in, it really went in! I’m not dreaming, am I?

Gavin: You’re amazing.

He looks at me, his eyes smiling and filled with commendation.

The look in his eyes alleviates the tightness in my chest, and I finally relax.

MC: Before today, I was quite scared of basketball… I was smacked by a basketball in high school, and I’ve been scared of it ever since. I never thought that I’d be able to shoot it through a hoop today!

Gavin reaches out and rubs my head gently.

Gavin: Does it still hurt?

MC: Ah? …it stopped hurting a long time ago! It was quite strange actually – even though I’m afraid of basketball, every time I’m on duty for P.E. class, it’d always happen to be a lesson on basketball. I think I once met you in the gymnasium…

It was already very late back then. I thought the gymnasium would be empty, but I saw Gavin shooting hoops. He played for a long time, and there were several basketballs by his feet.

By the time I finished my homework and returned to the gymnasium to clean up, the floor had not a single trace of basketballs. They were all neatly returned into the basket.

MC: …at that time, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.

Gavin: Thank me for what?

MC: You might have forgotten… you helped me pack up the basketballs in the gymnasium…

Gavin doesn’t respond. He turns to look at me, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile. He takes my hand.

I look at him, not knowing what to say.

MC: You…

In the next second, Gavin embraces me gently.

His breath envelops me.

I hear the sound of steady heartbeats.

Gavin: MC, I remember everything.