#the way I’ve never gotten over this in the past six years like. i hate this fucking show

[soullessjack]

clawing and screaming and skinning myself alive Kelly told Jack he was gonna be so amazing and do so many good things and make the world a better place and he wanted to believe that more than anything in the whole world he wanted to make her death worth it and then every time he fucked up he thought he wasn’t worth it and when he killed Mary when he committed those atrocities he knew for a fact he was never worth it because Kelly’s paradise bringing miracle baby was a fucking lie and. He’s not his father and he’s not his mother but he still wants to be her so badly. So badly he’d go visit her parents just to give them closure and learn more about this side of himself and then they don’t even want him anymore. They don’t even know he’s their actual blood he’s their grandson. He’s just a monster to his own family and he tried so hard to be what Kelly wanted but he just isn’t he’s just jack he’s just stuck with what he is and what he’s done and he can’t fix any of it and nothing will ever be the same way it ever was before and he knows it and he knows it’s his fault because he did that to Mary he did that to the fucking Winchester Matriarch who he loved who he saw as his own mother who saw him as her own son . and he can’t ever take it back and everything will be different with Sam and Dean now because of it and it’ll even be different with Cas now because Cas shared the same miracle baby idea as Kelly and he was so proud of Jack at one point but now he knows that jack isn’t that either and he still loves jack but it’s still just not gonna be the same.I need to lay down

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

[hyuneskkami]

03 ✦ I think i’m addicted to the title ‘you and me’ ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : my favourite chapter by far 🤭 kind of a fluffy chapter! def the longest in the series till rn too (I hate writing long chapters, please save me 🙏); anyway. the time has finally come fr! here’s your the ultimate climax chapter <333

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : mention of kissing , hand holding , talking about being a bottom/top , hands around neck , light neck biting (twice) , y/n trying to internally best-friend-zone hyunjin but it doesn’t work , oblivious idiots in love ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 1.05k

DAY #03 . . .

days merged into one another because all I did was go to school and prep school, nothing more and nothing less.

I internally even sobbed, realising that I hadn’t read any of my books for the past six months.

we got our test scores back an hour ago, leaving the results of a bet looming over my head. a bet I made with hyunjin. a bet, whose loser had to kiss someone.

I bet that hyunjin would score higher than I would, and he bet the opposite. loser has to kiss anyone the winner picks.

except, we weren’t serious about the consequences because he had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship just a couple of months ago, and I was… well, I hadn’t had my first kiss yet.

instead of reminding each other of the bet, hyunjin and I were holding hands under the table—which we did quite often because he said my hands were cold and he was ‘warming them up’—when, one of the days preceding halloween, the topic of being a ‘bottom’ or a ‘top’ came up in the class.

“I think you’d be a… bottom,” hyunjin whispered to me.

“duh,” I rolled my eyes.

“why? you like when the other person does all the work for you, don’tcha?”

“well, yeah,” I said, shrugging.

the conversation quickly moved on to what our type was.

“she needs to be as mentally unwell as I am,” hyunjin said. “and have the same sense of humour, too. a little shorter than me, and smart. like, book-smart as hell. oh, hopefully someone who goes to the same prep school so we could see each other a lot, you know?”

I nodded, thinking of any of the girls in our class who fit the criteria, but failed. I even tried to go out of the way and mentally scrolled through a list of girls from other prep school classes, and still turnd up with nothing.

“y/n, what about you?” he nudged my arm.

“mmm, obviously mentally unhinged, because if not, it’d be boring if they didn’t match my freak, right? also, they better be ready to hear out all the freaky fantasies i’ve collected after being a book girl for so many years. the list is unbelievably long,” I said, half-laughing. “I don’t really mind if they’re younger or older than I am, but I would never date anyone shorter than me.”

he laughed and nodded his head at me, his eyes crinkling. I was honoured to be one of the few people who saw this version of his smile—the kind that reaches his eyes.

classes ended earlier than usual—at 7:50, instead of 8:00 p.m., which is still relaxing—so we spent more time in the park near my house together, before hyunjin could leave.

“come on, i’ll walk you home. it’s getting a bit late,” he said, jumping up from his swing, and extending his hand.

I took it without a second thought, and we talked about everything that happened in our classes at school as we kept walking.

“oh my god,” I groaned, looking at the ‘out of service! sorry for the inconvenience!’ sign taped to the elevator. ugh.

“let’s go,” he said, happy to convert me to his staircase-is-better-than-elevators agenda, pulling me up the stairs immediately.

trailing behind him, I asked, suddenly curious, “what led you to conclude the fact that i’d be a bottom?”

when we reached the third floor, he waited a beat before pulling me towards the wall. he pushed me against it gently, and slowly wrapped his fingers around my throat, towering over me and staring down into my eyes. I looked away to the side in embarrassment, as my cheeks flushed.

a second later, he let go. “the fact that you liked that, i’m pretty sure, is proof enough, don’tcha think?”

I mumbled a ‘whatever’, and we kept walking up the stairs. from the corner of my eyes, I could see his mouth still moving, continuing conversation, but my mind kept straying to his lips. and his nose. and his eyes. oh my god, he was beautiful.

“remember our deal about letting me bite you?” he asked suddenly. I nodded. I always bit his finger to annoy him (as I did to my other friends, as well) and he bit back a remark of ‘you’re just begging for me to bite you too, huh?’ to which I cockily remember replying, ‘try it’.

I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and pushed my hand towards him, assuming he’d bite my hand like I did to him, and get it over with.

instead, he pulled me by my outstretched hand towards the wall again. his hands rested around my neck and tilted my face to my side. he gently nipped at my neck, and I laughed softly.

“tickles,” I mumbled.

best friends, I reminded myself.

he let go, and we walked up another floor to reach mine.

before I could wave to him, he asked, “want another on the other side?”

I quietly took small steps towards him, and his warm fingers found their home on my cheek, tilting my face away slowly. he bit down on my other side for a lot longer than the first time.

I held in a whimper, this time.

best friends.

I was pressed in between the wall and his body. I plopped my head down onto his chest, trying to calm down my racing heart.

best friends, right?

we were both smiling a little and his hand rested against my heart.

“got that heart beating so fast, all for me?” he smirked. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

best friends, I had to keep reminding myself.

I mumbled a ‘good night, hyune,’ to him and walked out of the stairwell. he let me go, knowing my parents would get mad at me if I got home even a minute later than I was supposed to.

he smiled, wishing me a good night and walking down the stairs again.

the cheeky little bastard.

I continued cursing him out in my mind, as I unlaced my shoes and stepped into my house. still scolding him internally for nothing, I tried to calm down my racing heart and shaking legs.

best friends aren’t supposed to have this kind of effect on each other… right?

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kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[buckyssoldat]

Fading (Kate Bishop x Reader)

Summary: You reflect on a past relationship with Kate Bishop, navigating bittersweet memories and the challenges of moving on.

Word count: 1.7k

Requested: No

Warnings: heartbreak, unhealthy relationship, angst, mental health struggles, breakup, mentions of alcohol

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about Kate Bishop from quite some time, so here it is. Also, please check my series, ‘Forsaken – The Fallen Soldier’. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

The air in New York felt crisp as the autumn leaves fell around you. You stuffed your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket, walking through the bustling streets. The city was the same, but everything felt different now. Sunken, maybe. You passed by the familiar coffee shop where you two used to meet, and the memory hit you like a wave.

You and Kate.

Back then, it felt like you two could conquer the world. You smiled to yourself, thinking about all the times you spent in that very shop, huddled close together in the corner, Kate rambling about a mission gone wrong or some ridiculous thing Clint had said. Those were the days when the rest of the world felt like background noise, and all that mattered was the space you carved out together.

Now, the coffee shop was just a place to pass by on your walk to work. You had gotten good at pretending the memories didn’t sting.

3 years ago

It was summer, and New York was in its usual humid chaos. You and Kate had just returned from a mission, tired but exhilarated. The adrenaline buzzed through your veins as the two of you sat on the rooftop of Kate’s apartment building, passing a bottle of wine between you.

“I told you I’d hit bullseye,” Kate said, smugly nudging your arm.

“Yeah, after like three tries,” you teased leaning back to rest your head on her shoulder. She huffed, but you could feel her smile.

The sky was painted with stars, and the city lights below twinkled like they were reflecting the magic you felt between you. You hadn’t been with Kate long, maybe six months, but it felt like you’d known her forever. Every touch, every look – everything just fit.

“You know, I could get used to this,” Kate said softly, her voice cutting through the night. You turned your head to look at her, and there was something in her expression, something vulnerable. It wasn’t like her usual confidence, but a quiet hope that scared you a little.

“What, being on rooftops, drinking stolen wine?” you joked lightly, trying to deflect the heaviness of the moment.

Kate smiled, but her eyes stayed serious. “No. I mean… us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you sat up a little straighter. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kate’s hand found yours, and the world seemed to slow down. “I feel like we’re good together, you know? Like, this could be it.”

You stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words settling over you. You felt the same way – of course you did. But something in you was afraid to say it. Afraid to admit that the thing you had was so precious it could break at any moment.

So you smiled, squeezed her hand, and said, “Yeah, me too.”

But you never said more than that.

Present day

The wind whipped around you as you reached your apartment, the familiar ache of missing her settling deep in your chest. You had tried so hard to move on, but no matter how much time passed, the thoughts of her lingered.

You stepped inside, tossing your keys onto the counter, and your eyes landed on the old Polaroid stuck to your fridge. It was one of the two of you from a summer carnival. Kate had convinced you to go even though you hated crowds. She had her arm slung over your shoulder, the two of you grinning like idiots, her sunglasses askew on her face.

You had never taken it down, even after everything.

You brushed your fingers over the photo, the memory of that day flashing in your mind.

2 years ago

“You can’t seriously think that was fun,” you groaned, rubbing your temples after exiting the dizzying tilt-a-whirl. Kate was laughing beside you, doubling over you as you shot her a glare.

“Oh, come one! You have to admit, it was kind of fun,” she teased, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, sure, if your idea of fun is puking your guts out.”

Kate grinned and wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re such a drama queen.”

You leaned into her warmth, your irritation fading. “Only because you’re a bad influence.”

She kissed your cheek, her lips lingering a little longer than usual. “But you love me for it.”

You stiffened, the words hanging in the air between you. Kate hadn’t noticed what she said – at least, not right away. She kept walking, her arm still around you, but you had stopped in your tracks.

Love.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it. You had. A lot. But Kate was… well, Kate. She was reckless, impulsive, and never seemed to take anything too seriously. You had always figured saying something like that would scare her off, make things too real.

But she had said it so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Kate,” you said softly, causing her to stop and look back at you.

“What?” She frowned, realizing the weight of what she’d said. For a second, her confidence faltered. “I… I didn’t mean-”

But you didn’t let her finish. Instead, you took her face in your hands and kissed her, hard, like you were afraid this moment might slip through your fingers if you didn’t hold tight enough. Kate melted into you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she kissed you back with just as much intensity.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but there was a different kind of fire in her eyes now. “I love you too,” you whispered.

And for a while, that was enough.

Present day

You blinked back tears as you stared at the photo, the weight of the memories crashing down on you. Everything had been so perfect once, so effortless. But it wasn’t meant to last.

You grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet, unscrewing the cap with shaky hands. Tonight, you were going to let yourself feel it all. You poured a glass and sat on the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. It had been almost a year since the two of you had called it quits.

1 year ago

You stood in the middle of your apartment, watching Kate pace back and forth. You had been arguing for hours, but it felt like this conversation had been simmering beneath the surface for months.

“You’re always gone, Kate!” you shouted, the frustration boiling over. “You come back from missions, and it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Kate ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. “You knew what this was when we started! You know what my life is like – what I do.”

“That’s not an excuse!” you shot back. “I feel like I’m not even a part of your life anymore.”

She stopped pacing, her eyes meeting yours, and for the first time, you saw the exhaustion there. Not just from missions, but from this constant push and pull between you. “Maybe you’re not.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. “What… what are you saying?”

Kate’s jaw clenched, and she looked away, her voice quieter now. “Maybe we’re not meant to be together. Maybe this… isn’t working anymore.”

You felt the ground crumble beneath you, the weight of her words threatening to suffocate you. “You don’t mean that.”

But the look in her eyes told you she did.

You had always known that this could happen. Kate was driven, focused on being a hero, and you love that about her. But somewhere along the way, you had stopped being part of her world, and she stopped being part of yours.

“I think we need to let go,” Kate said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Before we end up hating each other.”

You wanted to scream, to tell her she was wrong, that you could fix this. But deep down, you knew she was right.

So you let her go.

Present day

The wine tasted bitter as it slid down your throat, but it was nothing compared to the bitterness in your heart. You wondered if she thought about you too, if she missed you the way you missed her.

You had heard about her from time to time, through mutual friends. She was still out there, still saving the world. You had even run into her once at a party, both of you pretending it didn’t hurt to see each other. But you had never talked about what had happened between you, never addressed the elephant in the room.

Maybe it was easier that way.

You took another sip of wine and closed your eyes, letting the music from your old playlist wash over you. Maybe in another life you would be her girl. You felt the tears spill over, but you didn’t stop them.

Kate had been your first real love, and part of you would always wonder what could have been if things had gone differently. If you had fought harder. If you had let her in more. If you hadn’t been so afraid.

But the reality was, she had been the one that got away. And there was nothing you could do to change that.

The sound of your phone vibrating pulled you from your thoughts. You reached for it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the name on the screen.

Kate.

You stared at the message for a long moment before opening it.

Hey… I’ve been thinking about you.

You started at the words, your heart pounding in your chest. For a second, you considered replying, but then you remembered all the nights you had spent alone, wondering if you had made the right choice.

Some things were better left in the past.

You put the phone down and took a deep breath, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Maybe in another life, things would have been different. But in this one, you had to move on.

You had to let her go.

masterlist

[domenation802]

Got alerted that it was a 7 year anniversary on here today. Felt compelled to make a post for updates but also to clear the air from things I hear through the grapevine, and also for the haters that I know are out there. Most people and I are chill, but there are a couple, for whatever reason, that make it their life’s mission to dog me as some sort of competition to prove they were right about something. Idk. I’m not a psychologist, and maybe that’s the problem. I haven’t always done everything right, but I can honestly say I’ve genuinely cared about every friend and girlfriend I’ve ever had, even when I had to work through the pain of realizing things weren’t going to work out, and I’ve never put hands on anyone or crossed lines for what I feel like it is to be man. At the end of the day, I find that I have higher standards for myself than most people, and I don’t need validation for that.

I haven’t posted on here in years, but it’s been for the best reasons. I’ve taken over a mortgage on a house. I’ve been in the gym, I put on 25 pounds of muscle. I started a business that’s taken off as one of the better cannabis brands in my state. I’ve done events and conventions. I’ve gone and watched my alma mater win back to back national basketball championships. I’ve finally gotten back to festivals. And MOST importantly, I’ve met the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met in my entire life who has loved me, supported me, and made me a better person throughout it all. I was starting to think maybe it would never happen. I wasn’t looking, at all. And then she just walked into my life. I guess they say that right as you give up and submit, it happens.

Never in a million years would I have ever expected to meet a girl like this at a shitty hometown bar, and it was a 1-in-a-million shot that she was even there. She was recently out of a local college, lived out of state, and was just rooming with a friend to help her out. Her friend dragged her out, and I happened to be there with a gym friend sitting at the bar watching the Celtics/Lakers. We all noticed each other, danced together and talked and laughed a lot. When it was time to leave, I got her info and we started casually talking and hanging out more.

The more that I learned about her, the more amazed and obsessed I was. She taught me things I didn’t know. She made me consider things in a different way than I always did. She was quiet, but direct. In a lot of ways, she was very different than me: different race obviously, different family life (HUGE fam with healthy relationships), bounced around a lot in childhood. And yet, despite all our differences, she was interested in me. I couldn’t believe it. This absolute goddess. Bad bitch energy on the outside, like goth witch vibes, but for those in her circle she is the most kind, caring, smart, funny, hard working person I’ve ever seen. She practically raised her SIX siblings with her mom who had a few different BMs, calls them her babies. Why would anyone ever hate on this relationship? Well, I’m 9 years older than her. She will be 26, I’m 35. And I know this sounds like the most based thing ever, but it’s true: she is the most mature woman I have ever been with, hands down, no questions asked, twice on Sunday. She calls me out on my bullshit when I need it, she supports my hobbies. Shes vegan and pushes me to be healthier. I could literally write a novel about the things that I love about her. And I opened up to her. I told her everything. About all of my many past relationships. About my addiction. Everything. And she didn’t hate me for it, she loved me for changing. She made my life, OUR life.

And so I proposed. Last November, in the gardens at an old-ass Victorian mansion where they hung witches in Salem on Halloween under the moonlight for the first time in my life, I asked someone to marry me. Not because it was easy (although it is), not for money, not because “she’s easy to manipulate” (honestly that sounds like projection when people even say it), but because for once in my life, I feel like I am healthy enough and have someone who loves me for me, and who wont leave through the ups and downs. I mean I’m old as fuck now, it’s probably time. And ya know, my Mom is for sure crazy, but she had a few sayings that I liked, and one was: “it’s okay to take your old memories off the shelf every once in a while, but just make sure you put them back”. And I think that’s great advice for everyone.

Peace Tumblr. Maybe I’ll chalk another update down in a few years. Be easy, be well. And most importantly: don’t be a fucking hater man. ✌🏻

[keneestorytimelibrary]

Rockey Chapter 20

When I was ten, I met a girl named Brittney; we sat next to each other in class. I remember trying to be very sweet to her; being new to the neighborhood didn’t guarantee that she’d be miss popular. Turned out, she would spend the next seven years bullying me. Apparently I started it by being “too nice”.

It had gotten so bad at one point, that the name “Brittney” became synonymous with pure evil. To this day, I recoil at the mere thought of her, and the things she's done to me. I’ve had my head dunked in used toilets almost everyday. I never got the chance to eat lunch at school, cause Brittney was “hungry”. My grades suffered the most, and there was one point where I didn’t think I would graduate high school.

I would sometimes hide in one of the stalls in the unused girls’ bathroom, whenever I got a chance to hide during lunch. Brittney and her crew ALWAYS found me. ALWAYS. I’ve had broken bones, busted lips, bruises, and cuts that I was forced to hide from my grandparents.

One day, my grandpa discovered a wound, and immediately sat me down. He had always figured there was something wrong; it was the sight of a particular bruise that set off every alarm in his mind. 

“Rockey, sit down.” he said firmly. His tone of voice set off a few red flags. I quickly recalled the events from the past couple of days, I couldn’t recall anything bad that I’ve done.

I sat down, and waited anxiously for whatever he was going to say or do. I’ve lived with my grandparents since I was six; my parents were deemed irresponsible to take care of me by Family Court. My grandparents, especially my grandpa, meant everything to me. 

My grandpa, Jasper, sat across from me with a serious face. After a few seconds, he reached over to the small table next to his favorite recliner. He pulled out his gun, and began loading the chamber. My heart began racing. 

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’m REALLY SORRY!” I blurted out. Though he had never raised a hand or voice at me, he was still a scary man.

He looked at me with a bewildered look. “What the hell are you talking about Rockey? I’m not going to hurt you.”

The relief on my face was clearly visible. But there was something bothering me: ‘Why was he loading his gun?’

“Rockey, I am going to ask you this once. Is that fruity-tooty, sorry ass excuse of a boyfriend putting his hands on you?” he asked as he held onto his loaded gun and his car keys. It took me a few seconds to fully understand what was going on.

“Oh God no! Danny has never done that, I promise.” I said quickly.

My grandpa looked at me for a few minutes, as if scanning my eyes to see if I was ying. As soon as he was satisfied with my answer, he dropped his keys on top of the dresser. He, however, held onto his gun.

“Then who is the one that is hurting you?” he asked, pointing to my covered arm. Earlier today, I had wrapped a massive bruise that I got recently from school.

Instinctively, I began to rub my arm, despite the slight pain. I began to mumble in response, something that my grandpa hated the most.

“Rockey, you know I don’t like that mumbling shit.” he said. “I’ve always told you to speak your mind clearly.”

“It...it’s from…” I began, but couldn’t utter a word. It wasn’t as if I was afraid of him; I was dreading his disappointment. My grandma, Cielo, told me that when my grandpa was younger, he basically ran his neighborhood. He wasn’t a thug, or anything like that, but he did not take shit from anybody. He was well respected and loved by a lot of people.

I thought he would be mad that his granddaughter was being pushed around, without defending herself. And the last thing I ever wanted to do was to make him feel disappointed. I’ve always felt like a burden to my parents, and they made sure that I knew it. I can’t imagine making my grandparents feel the same way.

He let out a pensive sigh. “Rockey, is it someone from school? A bully?” I could only nod in response. 

He put his gun away, and gently grabbed my hands. “Now, whoever this is will pay for their actions. No one, and I mean no one, touches my baby girl. But I need you to learn how to defend yourself. This is getting out of hand, and it’ll only get worse. Don’t you let anyone EVER hurt you like this ever again.” With that, he grabbed his keys again, and got up. 

“Where are you going?” I asked. 

“To raise Hell at your school.” he replied simply.

I don’t know what came over me, but I quickly got up and grabbed his arm. “No, wait. Let me handle this.”

My grandpa looked at me seriously, before saying, “I’m giving you one chance to handle this before I do.”

That was enough motivation for me to get a hold of the situation. I went straight to the principal’s office the next day, and reported the issue. Normally they wouldn’t expel a student based solely off of one incident, but the multiple injuries, and its severity, deemed Brittney too dangerous to be in school. She was expelled within a week of investigation. After that, I had never seen her again.

But as I opened the door to Principal Lindstrom’s office, a sickly familiar face greeted me.

Mr. Lindstrom’s office was enormous: a beautiful wooden desk was positioned in the center of the room. Pictures of celebrities that had either attended the school, or visited, were scattered all over the place. There was a section of the wall by the door dedicated to the school’s baseball team. There were multiple pictures of every year’s team, and at the center of it, was the school’s prized possession: a wooden bat with signatures from the 2002 winning team. The player who used that bat won a scholarship to Vanderbilt University.

A jade green rug covered the floor, and a gold curtain covered the windows. Like everything else in this school, it was unnecessarily expensive for no reason. 

There were seven chairs laid out in front of the principal. A young girl, whose face was buried in her hands, sat by herself. A young boy, with a small cut on his cheek, sat with a greedy grin. He was situated next to a well-dressed business man, who had the same identical grin as the boy. And on the other side of the boy, sat Brittney, whose psychotic grin grew wider once we made eye contact.

[catpine]

gonna be real this has been eating at me for so long but i can finally get it off my chest since that hellsite is going down!

i’ve been envious of your writing for years. you are such a creative, fluid, and articulate writer i craved so much of your approval and honestly i’m too scared to say it to your face, even with the death of quotev, but i really mean everything i say even if i’m on anonymous.

sasha, you are gonna go so far with whatever you do wether that’s an article writer for some new york magazine or a cookbook writer - whatever it is. i have felt stuck in the same place with my writing for years and i’ve never improved. never gotten better, never gotten good, and i stopped trying. you are such a beautiful writer but i never had the confidence to actively participate in your groups. i would maybe join and never get past the forms because i never started in fear of writing.

when i joined aberdeen, it was so… weird. i don’t know if that’s the right word i’m looking for but when you accepted me it was like, “okay, cool, whatever.” and i convinced myself i was ready to write again and try for the millionth time to improve. reading the description over again and then the pre-planned episode introduction and it made me feel that same twisting in my stomach, one of dejection and excitement. on one hand i wanted to write like you and it motivated me to try again but on the other i knew i would give up too quickly before i could even study another style.

i always wanted to approach you to be like “hey sasha!! can we do a 1x1 roleplay i kinda crave your approval creatively but please don’t think i’m a weirdo for wanting you to like me!!” and i could never say it, could never get it out properly because i always wanted to be your friend, too, but i think i’m living way too different of a life. i’m sorry if this is weird but i just had to say it before it turned me into lilico and ate me from the inside out whole. i’m not saying this to just be like “i hate your writing, it makes me think low of myself” it’s more so just my way of trying to say you have a gift that you should never give up because some shitty site is taking that away. i’m sure you’ll get used to tumblr or discord or whatever else you move on to but don’t let quotev ruin your fun. percy is a character i love because he is so much fun, so realistic in the way you wanna hate him so bad because you’re a shitty, mean sorority girl at heart who has a trashy hot pink bra somewhere in her dresser but you know that growing up in such a lonely space, to know what it means to be a social reject with a sense of superiority that you just… relate to him in this gross way you can’t explain. you wanna scrub the skin off of your body because holy fuck, why are you still alive and your brother is dead? why are you miles away from his grave without a pulse and above ground but he’s six feet below the soil and not coming back? it’s almost unfair - no, definitely unfair.

don’t let quotev take away shit, adapt and develop. like i said, wherever you end up, you’ll do great.

can i just say i'm genuinely sitting here with my mouth wide open and almost crying because this is so unbelievably sweet. i'm writing this and visibly gesturing my head in disbelief. HELLOO????????????? this is the absolute kindest thing ever and i can't articulate my appreciation enough, this kinda made my life. did you know you were gonna make my life with this?!

but i'm gonna encourage you for a minute so buckle up. writing, at least for me, is such a tangible feeling and if i do not feel it, i do not do it. sometimes i'm okay with that, but the majority of the time it is the worst feeling. i'm sure you know, but some of my recent posts on quotev were me airing out (sometimes cathartically, but mostly just screaming to the void) about lackluster feelings within myself, the point of my writing and various other grievances. i say all of that to say: i've been there and will be there again. it comes with the territory of writing, with anything really, but if you truly enjoy it (and from this message, i get the feeling you do) you know nothing feels better than seeing it come together in words. whatever you were trying to communicate from something very literal to a description, to the effect certain verbiage leaves on you; you know it can make you proud, it puts you somewhere. i'm always trying to recreate that feeling. if i get it from my own writing, a quote somewhere, an entire movie: i try to replicate what it means to see so clearly a vision. like you mentioned rereading the aberdeen description, THAT IS THE FEELING. it's an obsession and i know that sounds so radical and comedic, but it's not. it's rewatching particular scenes to entire seasons of a show because there's that liminal, undefinable feeling to it. it's going back to annotated essays because there's something written with articulation pulled from your own unique, lived experience by someone who died before you were born. a song because that specific chord sounds exactly like the way a certain place looks. my simple understanding of it all is that if you get that feeling, you should probably continue chasing it. unless its like fatal, maybe not then.

as for everything else, i would love nothing more than to work with you on some writing project. if it ever comes to fruition or not, that's besides the point. i think it would be a great joy to just work with you and see what our minds cook up as that's always been my favorite part anyway. shoot me a DM, i don't care!

i just want to express how moving this genuinely was and how happy i am you reached out. the one thing better than that aforementioned feeling i described is someone to share it with and i swear by that.

[bookloveravenue]

Never Have I Ever (book 4): Never Have I Ever Wanted My Brother’s Rival by Willow Dixon

“Why is the one person I hate the only guy I can’t stop thinking about?”

West, my older brother’s high school rival. The rich kid who has it all. The guy who disappeared six years ago and destroyed my brother’s life. I thought West and I were friends. I trusted him, but he showed me I was nothing more to him than a means to an end.

Being twenty and in my last year of college isn’t easy. Neither is being a virgin. I’ve never been normal or felt like I fit in, and I don’t feel what I’m supposed to. My online job has given me the perfect way to solve my virginity problem, but then the last person I ever wanted to see again shows up on my doorstep. Not only has West learned what I do for a living, he’s essentially my landlord. I hate him. So why can’t I stay away from him? Why is he the only person I’ve ever felt a connection with, who makes me feel like there’s something in me worth wanting?

Eli and West’s story is an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers romance between a former bad boy who seemingly has it all and an awkward genius who’s never felt like he fits in. Expect lots of banter and hot first times as these two try (and fail) to stay away from each other. It is the fourth novel in the steamy Never Have I Ever series but can be read as a standalone.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123175939-never-have-i-ever

********

My Review: 4/5 Stars

It’s finally Eli’s turn! So glad that when I found this series, Eli’s book wasn’t too far away from coming out. I’ve liked who I had seen of Eli so far in this series and couldn’t wait to learn more. Especially since we’ve only gotten pieces of him in each book to get to know him more and I loved how the rest of the guys really took him under their wing and thought of him as their little brother. Now it’s finally his book and it was great! The house Eli and the guys share hasn’t been great recently. And when the water heater goes out they call management. But Eli is shocked to find that the new guy is none other than his brother’s rival from high school, West. Eli hasn’t seen West since the big blow out that threw his brother’s future off course and West disappeared. So he’s none too happy to see West. Yet, he can’t seem to hate him completely either. Not when West had always proved to be a great guy up until he left town. It may be time Eli finally gets the other side of the story. West has been gone a while and he has returned home. He has been controlled by his father since the incident in high school and starts to realize that he missed some important things while he was gone. And when he sees Eli again, he finds he can’t stay away. Then when a storm hits and West offers Eli to stay with him, things are about to change for the both of them. Loved their story! West and Eli were a great pair together. West totally gets everything about Eli and loves everything about him. He understands him in ways no one else really does and Eli realizes just how much he can be himself around him. And for West, he loves to be around Eli and loves that their relationship is so much more balanced than his past ones. He’s been lonely and never truly finding someone who is his equal. They make each other better. Plus you gotta love the other guys make appearances in the story and giving their two cents. This was such a fun series! I’m sad it’s over but I’m looking forward to the spin off that starts with Eli’s brother, Gray! 

[avarindigenous]

I’m sort of peripheral to silm fandom- I’ve read it enjoyed and I like that people make things about it but I don’t remember enough about the characters to really engage, I just hang out. Also I’m white. When I first found the silm fandom on tumblr one of the things that seemed really exciting about it was the racial diversity in fan works (HEllo Black Galadriel) but I also agree that I’ve noticed a decrease in the diversity of characters in the fanart I’ve seen recently. I wonder if it has anything to do with the new show? I wasn’t in the good omens fandom before the show was made but the impression I’ve gotten is that the characters were much more regularly portrayed an non-white before white actors played them. I wonder if fan artists/writers who were not particularly dedicated to diversity in arda are seeing the predominantly white cast (except for random ocs? What’s up with that?) of a Silmarillion-adjacent show and going oop! guess they were white all along! I don’t know if that’s what’s happening, but I’ve wondered what the effect of the show is going to be on fandom and this might be one of the first things we see. I’m glad to have found your blog and I hope that the trend doesn’t continue.

I think there are a lot of factors at play when it comes to the question of why this has happened, and the frustrating part is that most of it has very little to do with conscious racism.

as I mentioned in other reblog chains of the post you’re referring to, there’s been a downgrade in general fandom activity the past two years or so. the Silmarillion fandom tends to have a “cycle” of three to six years when people are most active - a new blog comes in and starts posting about a particular topic, it attracts attention and other like-minded blogs join in the conversation, the same points get rediscovered and newly discussed and litigated by each group of people, and then eventually people cease actively posting as much, either by leaving the fandom, leaving the site for somewhere else like Twitter, or by simply being less present online. because the conversation can get very toxic and political (from an intracommunity perspective) those of us who do manage to pay attention for years, even by lurking, usually refrain after a while from taking part in discussions and focus on content creation or on appreciating others’ art and fanfiction.

on that note, I don’t think it’s much of a secret that the Tolkien fandom is not a particularly chill or calm fandom space, even excluding questions of bigotry and prejudice. people get very attached to their interpretations of canon (myself included) and many will react very harshly to perceived bad takes or bad-faith engagement, or will take someone disagreeing with them over a characterization detail or a plot point as a personal slight. friendships have been ended, harassment campaigns have been launched, and groups of people have been bullied into lifelong trauma, all over questions of textual analysis. even if there’s no harassment present, a larger blog posting a “controversial” opinion is almost guaranteed to lose followers and receive anon hate or passive-aggressive DMs. you’ll note I’m not giving specific examples of what kinds of opinions trigger this behavior, and that’s because no one is immune to it. the reason I separate this from bigotry is because it truly is about scholarship. it’s the equivalent of giving a controversial talk at an academic conference and having all your friends cease to talk to you because they’ve decided you’re abrasive and rude simply for voicing your own opinions. why this is relevant in a conversation about diversity is that I need to make it clear that in order to be comfortable in this fandom space in the first place, you need to be comfortable with everyone in the world finding fault with your ideas and interpreting them in the most bad-faith way possible even if you’re white and you never talk about racism or diversity or LGBTQ+ issues at all. the people who endure this (which is anyone and everyone who develops some sort of large following on Tumblr and probably Twitter as well) and who decide to stay in the fandom will usually become extremely uninterested in anything but reblogging other people’s work and shitposting, or will else block everyone they never want to see their posts and threat monitor to avoid discourse and backlash.

fanartists, more than fanfic writers and editors and meta writers and analysts and even shitposters, are the backbone of the Tumblr Tolkien fandom. all of the other kinds of fanworks - including songs and fanvids! - are significantly less likely to get serious engagement. what the Silmarillion fandom “looks” like is crafted by the artists, and fandom activity lives and dies by fanart. graphics, fanfic, and other works get more engagement if there is an active fanart scene. the trouble here is that fanartists never stay in the fandom long, usually averaging two or three years. right now, almost all the fanartists regularly posting are drawing white characters, and there aren’t a lot of fanartists period. as a result, nothing is really getting noticed - @arwenindomiel mentioned trouble getting graphics to crack a hundred notes, and other friends of mine who aren’t white and make diverse edits have had trouble for years getting more than twenty or thirty people to like and more than five or six to reblog. even when they include white people, the situation isn’t much better.

as mentioned once more in other posts on the subject, being a POC and not having anyone engage with you is depressing. no asks, no fanfic prompts, no edit prompts, no interest in the creative work we do - even if we never face racism through direct slurs or criticism, the silence is exhausting and isolating. additionally, since several of us had a limited platform only a few years ago that now seems to have dried up entirely, we face the question of why we bother, why we create. this becomes even more frustrating if we love the canon and aren’t constantly angry about Tolkien, and want to reblog and talk about the things we like rather than assuaging white guilt, validating posts made by white allies about how they noticed something problematic (which also comes under assuaging white guilt; no one is helped by self-righteous “look, this thing in the text is bad!” posts because nothing in the text is mysterious or hidden, and fans of color have been aware of the problems for many years), or talking about how the text has problems. I genuinely like the story and the worldbuilding and it is my right to choose not to engage with the racism in ways dictated by an online fandom because I am always engaging with the racism in everything I do, but the posts that get noticed and that start conversations are posts about the problems in the text. this creates a space where fans of color are only allowed to be fans of Tolkien if we always hate him and hate being in these spaces, which is a negativity that takes a serious psychological toll and makes fandom feel like a duty. on top of this, we’re uniquely vulnerable to being singled out for bad takes as mentioned above, which makes wanting to speak out in the first place a daunting proposition. there’s very little room for error, or for opinions that go against the grain, and what little room there is is usually reserved for white fans.

the end result is where we are now - very little fanart, relatively little queer content, and almost everything featuring white faces. I’m unsure if I want to blame all of this on the show, as it’s a consequence of people cycling out and people being less proactive as well as general unexamined bigotry (it’s as if we reserve our vitriol for our fellow fans’ perceived bad takes and not actual structural problems in the community). it’s a frustrating problem that could be solved both by an attempt to be kinder to people we disagree with (and I am including myself, I am making a conscious effort to be as calm and as compassionate and as understanding as possible, but I’m certainly not perfect) and by resolving to champion diversity and diverse voices.

but this is a mess, all told, and I’m not sure how we can solve it.

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

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[honeypiehotchner]

Version of You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Call 1-800-799-7233 if you think you are in danger/a victim of domestic violence, or visit this website for resources, live chat, and more (for the USA). This is a link to the wikipedia page that has international resources. 

(I wanted to put that first because this fic deals with an abusive relationship and some scenes show the abuse. If you relate to any this, please seek help via the resources above. I want desperately to say my DMs are open, but for my own mental wellbeing, I have to let you know that the resources that I give above are about all I can do to help. You’re welcome to DM me if needed, but please know that it might take me a minute to reply, and I still will point you in the direction of resources that can better help you. I love and support and am with every single one of you, but I can only do so much through a screen xx.)

This is 100% a comfort fic, but I am safe and okay, I promise 💛 (Truthfully, this was really therapeutic to write.)

Small note: mental and verbal abuse is depicted here, not physical (though it does come close), but I wanted to remind you that just because abuse isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not harmful or real. Mental and verbal abuse is still abuse.

Summary: Hotch helps you find the courage within you to end your abusive relationship for good.

Warnings: depiction of an abusive relationship, verbal/mental abuse, violence (domestic and otherwise), angst, happy ending

Hotch Masterlist

Aaron is stunned and disappointed to find you’re still at your desk when he walks out of his office at the grand hour of 8 p.m.

You don’t even hear his office door open or close, but you do hear his footsteps on the stairs. By the time he reaches your desk to say goodnight, you’re already attempting to cover up any traces of emotion on your cheeks.

But Aaron is a profiler. On top of that, though, he’s one of your best friends. He’s known you for six years now, and given how much time the BAU members spend together on cases, he’d argue he knows every single person here better than they know themselves.

You’d agree. You hardly know who you are anymore. But somehow, Aaron knows. Aaron can see.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, already setting his bag down, already pulling a chair over, already sitting next to you.

You’re ready to tell him it’s nothing, to tell him to get home to Jack, that it isn’t important — but it is.

You’ve been with your current partner for almost eight years. Anyone would hear that and ask if marriage is on the horizon, or children, or something of the sort. But not Aaron. Because Aaron can see the pain in your eyes.

Truthfully, he’s seen that pain in your eyes for the past two years. Maybe more.

But recently, it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.

You’re on a “break” with your partner. Whatever a “break” even means, because you still receive phone calls and texts from them all day. You send the calls to voicemail unless you absolutely aren’t doing anything, and the texts you reply to with one word.

Going home is fine because your partner is gone — for now. Work called them away, so you’re home alone for at least another three days, but you expect they’ll want you to pick them up from the airport.

You’ve never longed for a case the way you’re longing for one right now.

This “break” has been easiest because your partner has been gone. You know if they were here, it wouldn’t have been a break at all.

“It’s made me realize that I...I want a break. A real break.”

“You want to break up,” Aaron says it for you, knowing you’re too afraid.

Your hesitant nod confirms this for him. “I do. I think I really do.”

Aaron has known the relationship hasn’t been the healthiest. You don’t open up about your personal life that much at work — you never have — but it has always been telling that you never go out for drinks with the team. And when you did, you’d have to answer texts every ten minutes. Your partner never accepted an invite to join the team for drinks or dinner, but would often get angry at you for being out, as if you hadn’t tried to invite them.

Raised voices, broken glass. Not a single hand was ever laid on you. No, instead, it was a wine glass your mom gifted to you when you graduated college when your partner was angry that you had gone out for drinks with the team after a difficult case. A coffee mug you gifted your partner for their birthday faced the brunt of their anger when you didn’t reply to a text message fast enough — because you were parking your car in the garage. Plates, picture frames. A coffee table once, three years ago. It had been a house warming present.

But they’ve never hurt me, you always argue — only with yourself. No one knows the truth, that you clean up after their outbursts, that you’re grateful to have some knowledge of first aid so you can tend to your cuts from the broken glass, or so that you could stitch up your partner’s hand with ease, because hospitals are expensive and the excuses you’d have to fabricate even more so.

They always apologize. Which is true. Apologies are frequent in your house. Sometimes verbal, sometimes in the form of flowers either on your desk at the BAU (that only Hotch seems to notice with a sad smile) or left on the counter at home. Sometimes, rarely, a fancy dinner and some gift, usually a necklace.

“If you need any help at all,” Aaron says, looking you in your eyes, carefully, intently. “I’m here. For anything.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Your stomach rumbles loudly in the silence, making you chuckle awkwardly.

“Hungry?” He jokes, but is half serious. “I was planning to get something on the way home, if you’d like to join.”

You think it over for a moment. Your mind immediately jumps to say no because you think your partner is home...but they aren’t.

“Sure,” you say. “Why not. What’s on the menu?”

You gather your things and Hotch waits patiently, rattling off some ideas for food to eat until one grabs your attention.

Your phone buzzes with a text. Where are you?

Aaron notices your change in posture with a sigh. “Is that them?”

You nod slowly. “Asking where I am.” You quickly type back, Still at the BAU.

The reply is almost immediate, as always. Just checking. Love you.

Relief washes over you as you type back, Love you too.

Aaron doesn’t like what he sees. The panic that surges through you just from a text message, making you stand up straight, hold your breath, clench your jaw. Then the relief that relinquishes you when a reply comes and it isn’t negative for once. The sudden changes, the way your emotions are yanked back and forth. He hates it.

But he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he says, “Ready?” And waits for you to smile.

+++

Hotch really doesn’t mean for dinner with you to turn into somewhat of a routine. But it does.

It’s brought more smiles to your face than Hotch thinks he has ever seen in the past six years. And for that, he doesn’t regret the dinners.

Neither do you, until the worst thing that could possibly happen ends up happening one night, three weeks since the first dinner.

Your partner is going out with friends, so you think you’re in the clear to get dinner with Aaron. And when your partner asks where you are again, you say you’re still at the BAU. You were, but you and Aaron were in the elevator to leave when you sent that message.

The two of you grab dinner at one of your favorite spots, at a table outside because the weather is perfect, the sky is clear, and stars are beginning to show. It’s magical. Until it’s a nightmare.

“Well, well, well.”

The voice sends shivers down your spine. They’re supposed to be out with friends.

Aaron automatically stands, shoulders squared and face set. He’s wearing his gun, and you are, too, but you’d never use it on your partner. You can’t say the same about Hotch, though, and that terrifies you.

“Babe,” you say with a smile, and Hotch tenses, hearing the pet name fall so easily form your lips. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with your friends?”

Your partner crosses their arms over their chest. “And I thought you were still at work.”

“We are,” Hotch speaks up, startling you. “We’re discussing a case.”

Your partner looks around, raising their eyebrows. “I don’t see any papers.”

“Because we went digital five years ago,” Hotch replies coolly. “But aside from that, a federal investigation is none of your business.”

You swallow thickly, waiting for your partner’s reply.

But to your surprise, they only nod. “I understand, sir. I was only checking.”

Hotch holds back a scoff, but instead returns the nod. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Your partner holds their hands up in surrender. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you at home,” you say quickly. “Love you.”

“See you at home,” they reply, making you frown as they turn and walk away.

When you look back at Hotch, you nearly scream. It takes everything in you not to make the hugest scene right there, outside this nice restaurant, underneath these stars.

Your phone buzzes. One hour. Do not be late.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you say quietly. “Just. Don’t, Hotch.”

+++

The next day, you knock on Hotch’s office door, twenty dollar bill in hand to pay him back for your dinner last night. You left in a hurry and didn’t get to pay. Thankfully, at least, arriving home with forty minutes to spare saved you from an even worse reaction from your partner.

“For dinner last night,” you mumble, sliding the twenty across Hotch’s desk. “Thank you.”

As you turn on your heel to leave, Hotch calls out to you. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Aaron says, making you turn back around. “I hope you’re...alright.”

You’re so very far from being “alright” that you almost laugh. Instead, you shrug. “It’s been worse.”

“Did they hit you?”

You’re too shocked to move. “What? No! Why the hell would you even say that?��

“Because I’ve been worried about you.”

“They have never laid a hand on me,” you snap. “Ever.”

“But they’ve come close,” Aaron says gently. “You know they have.”

You only scoff. You feel hurt. Insulted, even, that he would assume something like that. Your relationship with your partner is rocky, of course, but never physical abuse rocky. Never that bad.

But has it come close?

Sure, maybe you’ve felt the wind off a beer bottle when it grazed by your head on its way to the wall. Maybe you have had to duck to avoid getting glass to the face. Maybe.

Maybe they have come close. Closer than you want to admit.

But they’ve also loved you. Held you while you cried. Rewarded you after you cleaned up the broken glass. Left you flowers and jewelry and love notes.

They love you. Don’t they?

“It’s fine,” you whisper, blinking back the stubborn tears that have jumped to the front of your eyes. “They love me.”

“Love isn’t violent,” Aaron replies gently. “Love shouldn’t make you as terrified as I saw you when you left last night.”

“I know,” you choke out. “But I don’t know what to do.”

Hotch is rounding his desk and gathering you in his arms before the first tear slips down your cheeks. He holds you while you cry, letting you get it all out.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “Don’t worry.”

+++

It all comes to a head a few nights later when your partner springs a question on you. The question.

There, standing in the bathroom, you’re too stunned to speak.

“What d’you say, baby? Let’s get married, you and me.”

You don’t reply. You toss the makeup wipe in your trash can, flick the light in the bathroom off, and walk out into the bedroom.

“Baby?” They ask.

You’re facing the dresser, halfway to setting out a pair of pants for work tomorrow. “I...I can’t.”

“What?” Their reply is immediate and angry. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t,” you repeat, refusing to change your answer. “No.”

By the time you turn around, they’re standing up from the bed, arms crossed over their chest. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said no,” you say firmly. “I’m not marrying you.”

“And why not?”

“I—”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“What?”

“Your boss? Are you fuckin’ him?”

“No!”

“Then why won’t you marry me?”

“Because I don’t want to!”

You’ve never raised your voice back at your partner. They’ve always been the one to raise their voice, and you stayed silent, tried to talk them down, be the quiet voice of reason.

But not anymore. You’ve had enough.

“You don’t want to?” They scream. “It’s been eight years and now you don’t want to. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Baby…” They sigh, stepping closer, lowering their arms. “Why not?”

“Because,” you reply slowly, backing up. “Just because.”

“That’s not a good enough reason and you know it.”

“It’s good enough for me,” you say. You step to the side and keep backing out into the hallway, getting ready to run if need be.

“Where are you going?” They all but growl. “What’s wrong with you?”

You’re scaring me, you want to scream, but you don’t. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine? Well I’m for damn sure not fine, I’m heartbroken,” they seethe. You see the tell-tale signs that they’re about to get angry — angry enough to start throwing things. You realize in a moment of horror that a paperweight is within their reach.

And they reach for it.

“Don’t,” you murmur, freezing when their fingers wrap around the glass. “Put it down.”

“Why?” They ask, calm as ever. “Don’t you want to see what you’ve just done to my heart?”

You shake your head slowly. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, no!” Your reflexes have gotten better since being at the FBI, and you duck right in time. The paperweight crashes against the wall behind you, shattering, denting the wall, and covering the couch in fine pieces of broken glass.

“See what you’ve done!” Your partner screams. “This could’ve been easy! You could’ve said yes!”

You spot your car keys on the counter next to you, and when they turn their back to you to grip at their hair, you slide the keys off and into your pocket.

I have to get out of here. It’s a thought that you never have. Normally by now you’d be vacuuming up the glass on the couch, apologizing every five seconds, pouring them a glass of whiskey or a beer or something. But not now. Not anymore.

You’re a few steps from the door when your partner notices. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Nowhere,” you freeze. “Go take a shower. Cool off. I’ll clean up this mess and then we can talk about this again, okay?”

They almost don’t accept your offer, but after a second, they nod. “There better be a beer waiting on me when I get out.”

“Of course,” you smile.

Your smile makes them suspicious, but they turn and head into the bedroom without another word.

Shaking, you turn to the closet to grab the vacuum, turning it on and beginning to suck up the glass off the couch.

But when you hear the shower curtain pull closed, you escape, leaving the vacuum running.

+++

It’s pouring down rain, you aren’t wearing any shoes, and you’re knocking on your boss’s front door. Can your life get any more pathetic?

When Aaron opens the door, he’s practically hauling you inside and out of the rain.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, already leading you down the hall toward the bathroom. “You’re shivering, we need to get you out of these clothes — you aren’t wearing shoes, fuck, Y/N, what happened?”

“They asked me to marry them,” you choke out. You aren’t even crying. You haven’t cried yet at all. “I said no. They almost hit me.”

Aaron feels a dangerous surge of anger course through his body. “Did they hit you?”

You shake your head, and it turns into a full-body shiver.

“Okay,” Aaron says, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Okay, let me get some clothes for you. Do you want to take a shower?”

You shake your head again.

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

You sit, shivering, on your boss’s toilet for a few minutes before he returns with clothes. A t-shirt and pair of sweatpants of his. Old ones, he says, they don’t fit him anymore. You smile slightly when you realize the shirt is from his college, the sweatpants from his law school. No wonder they don’t fit him anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” you say. “I—I think I left my phone there.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. Just get changed and get warm. Do you want some tea? Anything?”

“Just some water, please,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

After he leaves, you change out of your wet clothes and into his shirt and sweatpants. You carefully hang your wet shirt and shorts over the edge of the bathtub, hoping that’s okay.

You venture out of the bathroom and follow the noise into the kitchen where you find Aaron putting up dishes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, straightening up. “Do you want ice with your water?”

“Um, sure.”

The sound of ice clinking into the glass makes you flinch, and you’re grateful Aaron’s back is turned away from you.

“There you go,” he hands you the glass.

“Thank you.”

You sip it quietly while he goes back to putting up the rest of the clean dishes in the dishwasher. Once he finishes, your heart is still racing, now with guilt from coming here unannounced. What if he was on a date? What if Jack was here?

“The guest room is all yours,” Aaron says softly. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

You nod slowly. “I don’t know what to do.” You pause, rubbing your thumb over the condensation on the glass. “But I told them I’m not marrying them. But I...I didn’t tell them I was leaving. Or where I was going.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not. They’re gonna be mad. I can’t— Oh my god, I can’t go back. Not alone, they’ll—”

“Hey,” Aaron shushes you, walking around the counter to get to you. “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure it out. I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone.”

“Thank you.”

+++

The next morning, you and Aaron head into the office early so you have time to grab your go-bag and change into your work clothes that you left in there.

Thank God for having a job like this where it’s normal to have a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and anything else you need in a duffle bag under your desk.

You and Aaron are the first people in the BAU, so you’re able to grab your bag and head to the bathroom to change without any questions. Once you return, you stuff the bag back under your desk and sit down, ready to bury yourself in reports for the day.

But before you can, Hotch calls you into his office.

“What’s up?” You ask when you step into the doorway.

“We didn’t eat breakfast,” he says, and that’s when you notice the two coffees and muffins sitting on his desk.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “I completely forgot.”

“Me too,” he smiles. “Here, sit.”

The two of you eat the breakfast in silence, but somehow you don’t mind it. You’re not in much of a talking mood, anyway.

Rossi arrives next and stops by Hotch’s office, not at all surprised to find the two of you eating together, though he does join with his coffee a few minutes later. The silence vanishes with Rossi, leaving laughter in its wake as he tells old stories about Hotch.

When the rest of the team arrives, they follow the noise to Hotch’s office, and soon you’re surrounded by your family. Your real family.

Once eight-thirty rolls around, you all begin to disperse, back to your respective spaces to start working for the day, and everything feels normal.

And then, in a matter of seconds, it isn’t.

The second your eyes land on your partner standing down in the bullpen, you fall to your knees, scaring the shit out of Hotch.

“What happened?” He blurts, kneeling down to you. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no, no...No, Hotch, they’re out there.”

Hotch doesn’t need their name. The fear on your face is enough.

About this time, you hear Derek’s voice growing in volume. The most you can make out is, “Put...down…!” And that’s when your blood runs ice cold.

You pat your right hip, hoping, praying, your weapon is magically there, even though you know it’s not. You put it in the safe when you got home last night. You didn’t have time to grab it before you ran out and drove to Hotch’s place. You left it there, in the safe, because you never think twice about it since it’s locked away.

But now…

“Don’t do this, man,” Derek yells. “Put. It. Down.”

“Where is she?” Your partner yells. “Tell me where she is!”

“I’m not telling you shit until you put the gun down,” Derek says, firmly. You’re frozen in place, on the floor next to Hotch’s desk as you listen.

“They have my gun,” you whisper to Hotch. “I didn’t think they— I don’t know how they knew the code, I change it every week, I thought—”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Hotch shushes you. “You stay here. Do not move. Try to get under my desk if you can.” He pauses. “There’s an extra pistol underneath. I want you to grab it just in case.”

You nod, but then a memory of last night grips you. “No! You can’t go out there!” You hiss, gripping Hotch’s arm.

Outside, you hear Emily’s voice adding to Derek’s, trying to talk your partner down. It’s a scene out of a horror movie. Straight from your worst nightmare.

“They already feel threatened by you, they’ll just shoot you the second they see you.”

“Not when they already have five guns on them.”

“Let me come with you,” you offer.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aaron, I have eight years of experience talking them down. I know what I’m doing.”

Hotch doesn’t like that you’re right.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod. You’re shaking all over, but you still nod.

“Okay. Crawl over and grab the pistol from my desk. Tuck it in your waistband, on your back. Go now.”

You stay low as you crawl over, finding the pistol strapped underneath his desk on the right side. Once it’s tucked in your waistband, you stand, facing the window. Hotch stands too, with his back to the blinds, and thank God they’re closed.

“Is she in there?” You hear your partner scream. “Is she with him?”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Shit, shit, shit, they’re gonna fucking kill me.” You hate that the possibility is very real. They have your gun. They could shoot you the second they see you. You’re not wearing any protective gear.

“No,” Hotch replies. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“Come out here, you lying bitch!”

Hotch looks ready to kill your partner himself.

“Babe?” You call out, putting on a false tone, the same one you always use when talking them down. “Babe, what are you doing here?”

You step into the doorway, feeling another frozen chill of fear shoot straight down your spine. They look crazed. Insane, even. Worse than you’ve ever seen, worse than last night, worse than the last eight years.

“Don’t babe me,” your partner seethes, but the gun is still trained on Derek.

You know it makes no sense, but you want them to turn the gun on you. Not Derek. Derek can’t be hurt because of you, not like this.

“Put the gun down,” you say, trying to stay calm and sweet, the way you usually have to be at home.

“I’m not listening to a damn thing you say,” your partner yells, and then the gun turns on you. “There he is.” The gun isn’t aimed at you. It’s on Aaron.

“Put it down,” Aaron’s level voice floats through the terror roaring in your ears. “I won’t ask again.” He shifts and you realize then that he has his own weapon trained on your partner.

“You won’t need to. Come out from behind my fiancé you coward.”

“She’s not your fiancé,” Hotch says. “And you won’t shoot her.”

“Want to bet on it?” Your partner lowers the gun slightly, now pointing it straight at your chest. Strangely, you don’t feel any panic surge through you. It’s telling. That even now, your head is telling you, they won’t hurt me, they never hurt me before.

“Don’t do it,” Derek yells. “I will shoot you, man. Don’t do it. You have six guns pointed at you right now. Do you really want to do this?”

The metal of Aaron’s pistol bites into your lower back when you shift on your heels. Your arms are frozen by your side, too afraid to reach for the gun.

“Put it down,” Rossi yells.

“You’ve got five seconds,” Derek adds. “Don’t make me get to one. Five. Four.”

Your partner’s fingers twitch on the trigger. Aaron catches the movement. Nods once when Derek says three. And on two, Derek pulls the trigger before your partner can do it first.

A broken scream rips from your chest when the bullet lodges itself in your partner’s side, your gun clattering to the ground. Derek steps forward and kicks the gun further away, out of reach.

Hotch lifts you around your waist and pulls you back into his office, kicking the door closed with his foot.

You’re numb to everything as he sits you down on the couch, wrapping his arms around you as you finally sob, letting out every scream that you’ve been holding in.

+++

Your partner is taken to the hospital to be treated for the gunshot wound.

Hotch tells you they won’t stand a chance at being acquitted, too many charges looming over their head already without the addition of domestic violence. You hardly hear his words, but you nod like you do.

He takes care of you while the commotion outside struggles to calm down. A blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, you hug a pillow to your chest, sniffling every few minutes as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks. Spencer brings you a mug of steaming tea that you barely manage to thank him for. Hotch thanks him properly for you before softly shutting his office door.

For months, you’ve been thinking about leaving them. For so long, you’ve wondered what life might be like without them. Now, you don’t know a thing.

You don’t know what to do. Where to go. Will you have to testify in court? If you do, will you have to talk about the...abuse? The abuse that you can barely bring yourself to label blatantly as abuse even though Aaron, your brain, everyone screams at you that that’s what it is — abusive behavior.

When you were a teenager, and even in your early twenties, learning about signs of abusive, unhealthy relationships, you never thought you’d end up in one. You thought surely you’d recognize the first signs and get out of there.

But instead, you did exactly what they said most people do. You brushed them off. You thought, oh, they just love me deeply, that’s all. They want what’s best for me, that’s all. They want me to be safe and protected, that’s all.

And that’s lovely, but there’s a difference. Between caring and controlling.

You never thought the difference would be so hard to see.

“Come on,” Aaron’s soft voice pierces through your thoughts. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You blink. “Where?”

“Wherever you want to go,” he replies gently. “Your apartment?”

Immediately, you shake your head. But then you pause. Because aside from your apartment and the BAU, you have nowhere else to go.

“Would you be comfortable going back to my apartment?” He asks. “I understand if it’s uncomfortable. I’m sure Garcia or Prentiss would be happy to let you stay with them, and I’ll gladly send them home with you.”

As much as you love Garcia and Prentiss, you strangely feel more comfortable with Aaron. After all, Pen and Emily don’t— or didn’t know about your partner’s behavior. Only Hotch knew.

“If you don’t mind, I’m...I’m okay with your place.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he smiles. “The guest room is yours for as long as you need.”

That makes you smile, though the expression feels foreign on your lips. “Don’t you have to stay?”

“It can be dealt with tomorrow,” he replies. “The paperwork will still exist tomorrow at eight a.m.”

“Okay,” you accept defeat. “Can I take this blanket?” You don’t like the idea of this weight leaving your shoulders.

“Of course,” he says.

You fall asleep in the car.

You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted. And by the time you woke, Aaron had already carried you into his apartment. Startled, you gripped his arm a little too tight, but he shushed you carefully, letting you know you’re safe, he just didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly.

He set you down on the guest bed where you tried and failed to get some rest last night, but now, you sleep like a baby.

+++

Months after the incident, the guest room at Aaron’s apartment has become your temporary home.

You still haven’t been back to the apartment you owned with your partner — even though their name is on the lease, not yours. You went once with Aaron to pick up your clothes and anything else important, but it was a quick trip. You were desperate to get out of there.

Aaron didn’t like what he saw. The broken glass, the dents in the walls. The way your body language changed immediately. Your unwillingness to return there is fine by him.

It’s a slow, uphill battle as you begin to heal. Your partner still sits in jail, awaiting their trial date. You know you might have to testify, but you know your team might have to be there as well, so that makes you feel better.

Aaron has been incredibly respectful of your space. You were the one who brought up the idea of carpooling to work, one of you driving every other day, to save on gas for the both of you. He had assumed you wanted to drive on your own and always have your car — which is true, but you didn’t mind riding with him.

He’s the only one your terrified brain doesn’t seem to be scared of.

And you’re not complaining. You’re grateful to feel a small ounce of safety after feeling every sense of unsafe for the past eight years.

+++

Your ex-partner’s trial comes and goes in the following three months. You did testify, along with the rest of your team, the verdict is guilty. Life in prison.

You wept on the steps of the courthouse from the sheer relief of it all.

“They’ll never hurt you again,” Aaron had told you and you didn’t believe him for one second.

Still now, as you know for a fact they are sitting in a prison cell, you have a small fear. But you think you always will.

You continue “rooming” with Aaron — that’s the best way you can think to put it — and you’ve come to really enjoy the weekends when Jack comes over. At the start, Aaron would try to take Jack out to the park to give you time alone, or you’d go spend some time with Penelope, but after a while, you started staying. And after a little while longer, Jack started warming up to you, and expecting your presence.

One weekend, you hear Jack and Aaron playing in the living room while you’re in Aaron’s office, trying to get some work done. And halfway through signing your name on a piece of paperwork, you hear Jack “whispering” to Aaron about you.

“Do you like her?” Jack whispers, but it definitely comes across as more of a soft shout.

Aaron’s eyes widen, and he presses his index finger to his lips. “A lot,” he says, but you don’t hear him — though you were straining pretty hard.

“Me too,” Jack giggles. “Is she your girlfriend?” He teases, poking his dad with his Lego sculpture.

Aaron pokes his son back with his own design. “No, buddy, she isn’t.” Again, you can’t hear him, but Jack’s question made your heart hammer in your chest.

You know you’ve had some feelings begin to develop because truthfully, they were blooming months ago, back when you began having dinner with Aaron. But then everything happened, and you still loved your ex, and things got too complicated.

Now, though, seven months out from the start of it all, the feelings are still there.

Aaron hasn’t made any moves, so you’ve kept silent. You don’t know how much of his good deeds are simply out of his own kindness. And you certainly don’t want to mistake it for something it’s not.

But kids pick up on things adults try hardest to hide.

You continue with your paperwork, listening to them continue to play.

It’s not until after Jack goes home to Hailey that his question is brought up, and it’s only because Aaron asked what was bothering you.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “But I’m here if you do.”

He’s always here. That’s what made you have a crush on him in the first place, years ago. He’s always there for anyone who needs him.

“I heard you and Jack earlier,” you start. “When he asked if I’m your girlfriend.”

Aaron sighs. “I’m sorry. I think it’s just confusing for him because to him, living together equals relationship since all he’s known is me and Hailey—”

“I’d like to be,” you interrupt his nervous rambling. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”

He blinks a few times, then smiles. “You…” He pauses. “Are you sure?”

“Aaron, I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything—”

“I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything,” he counters. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” you whisper.

When he kisses you, it’s what you’ve longed for all this time. It’s exactly what you’ve been yearning for. It’s exactly the kind of love you know now that you deserve.

Recovery has been messy, and will continue to be messy for some time, but you’ll have Aaron next to you every step of the way. Always.

[impishtubist]

for the ask meme: "tell me what's wrong" for sirius & harry!

Okay, this one got way out of hand, so I'm putting most of it under a cut. Thank you for the excellent prompt! CW for the Dursleys being terrible to a child, but don't worry, Sirius makes it better :)

18. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Petunia Dursley opened the door and said, “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

“What?” Sirius stared at her in disbelief. In six years, Harry had never refused a weekend with Sirius. “Why?”

“How am I supposed to know?” she huffed. She reluctantly stepped back to let Sirius in; he couldn’t remember the last time he had been allowed in the house. Whenever he came for Harry, he had to wait on the doorstep until Harry came outside. “I don’t care what you say to him, but get him out of here before Vernon comes home. I will not have him stay here and ruin our weekend.”

Sirius bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and brushed past her. Six years. Six years of holding his tongue (and leaving his wand in his motorbike) around Harry’s foul relatives so they wouldn’t revoke his right to have Harry for a weekend once a month. Six years of playing nice while he slogged through both the wizarding and Muggle court systems, pursuing any avenue that might allow him custody of his godson. He wanted nothing more than to hex the Dursleys into next week, but he was no good to Harry in prison.

He made his way upstairs to the smallest bedroom, where Harry had a bed and a desk and not much else. Sirius had learned early on to keep most of Harry’s things at his own house, lest they be destroyed by his cousin. He knocked on the door.

“Haz, it’s me. Can I come in?” he asked softly.

A tiny voice said, “Yeah.”

Harry was sitting on his bed, his hands folded in his lap, quiet and still the way no seven-year-old should be. Sirius crouched in front of him.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, putting a hand on Harry’s knee. “Your aunt says you don’t want to come with me this weekend.”

Harry wouldn’t meet his eyes. He sniffed and shook his head. “No. I’m gonna stay here.”

“You know that I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do,” Sirius said. “But tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

Harry’s lip wobbled, but he shook his head. Sirius’s heart broke for him.

“Harry, please,” he whispered. “Just tell me what’s wrong, and if you still want to stay here, that’s fine. I won’t force you to come with me. I promise.”

He held up his pinky finger, Harry still being at the age where a pinky swear was the most solemn promise one could make. Harry tentatively clasped his finger, then slid off the bed and padded over to his desk. Sirius stood and followed him. Harry pulled open the top drawer.

“I’m sorry, Siri,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

On Harry’s third birthday, Sirius had given him a framed picture of James and Lily holding their newborn son. It had sat on Harry’s bedside table ever since. Harry loved this picture. He brought it up nearly every time Sirius saw him, wanting to know about the day he was born and the parents he had never known. Sirius had lost count of the number of times he had told Harry the same story, and he’d happily keep telling it for the rest of his life.

The frame was now broken, the glass shattered, the picture ripped in two. Sirius knew at once that this wasn’t Harry’s doing--even if he’d accidentally knocked over the frame, that picture had been ripped by human hands, and Harry would never have done such a thing.

“Harry,” Sirius said, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible, “what happened?”

“I was bad.” Tears were flowing down Harry’s cheeks now. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Sirius sank to his knees so he could properly look Harry in the eyes. “You are not bad, Harry. Who did this to your picture? Was it your cousin?”

Harry shook his head. Sirius’s heart sank. It was one thing for a spoiled, entitled child to ruin Harry’s things, but an adult being purposely cruel to Harry…

Well, what did he expect?

“Was it your aunt?” he pressed, and when Harry shook his head again, he asked, “Your uncle?”

Slowly, very slowly, Harry nodded. Sirius let out a slow breath.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“Broke a glass,” Harry whispered, breath hitching as he fought back sobs. “I didn’t mean to. And Uncle Vernon s-said that I should--that I should know how it feels to have my things broken, since I keep--I keep breaking theirs. S-so he broke it. And he--he ripped the picture. Padfoot, I’m sorry.”

“Baby,” Sirius said, pulling Harry into his arms, “you didn’t do anything wrong. Is that why you didn’t want to come with me this weekend? You thought I would be mad at you?”

Harry nodded against his shoulder, and Sirius didn’t think he had anything in his heart left to break, but oh, he was wrong. He sat on the floor and settled Harry in his lap, trying to console the sobbing child while his mind raced. This couldn’t go on. He had spent six years playing by the rules, doing everything the right and proper way, and what had it gotten him? James and Lily’s son having to live with people who hated him, who were cruel to him, who starved him of love and affection. What good did playing by the rules do when Harry was miserable?

Sirius took a deep breath, clarity settling over him and calming his frayed nerves as he came to a decision. He was about to do something very, very stupid, and Dumbledore was going to be furious.

Good.

“Harry,” he said, “how would you like to go camping with me and Uncle Moony this weekend?”

Harry looked up at him, face blotchy, eyes overbright. “R-really?”

“Really, Haz. I’m not mad at you at all, and I still want you to come with me this weekend.” And forever. “You know that special backpack I got you, the one that’s bigger on the inside?”

Harry nodded, wiping his cheeks.

“I want you to get that, and fill it with all your favorite things that you have here. Any shoes or clothes or books or toys.” There weren’t many here at the Dursley house, but Harry had a few belongings that he liked. “It’s going to be a special camping trip, where we take all of our favorite things with us. Okay?”

While Harry hurried off to pack up his things, Sirius went back over to the desk and peered down at the shattered frame and tattered picture. He regretted leaving his wand in his motorbike, because it would have been faster to use it, but a few passes with a wandless repairing spell was enough to restore the picture to pristine condition. He then repaired the frame and slipped the picture back inside.

“Here,” he said, putting it in Harry’s backpack. “We’re going to take that with us as well.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes were wide.

“Absolutely. You ready to go?”

Harry nodded, and Sirius did one last pass of the room to make sure nothing important had been forgotten. Satisfied, he took Harry’s hand and led him downstairs. A scowling Petunia waited by the door, no doubt to make sure with her own eyes that Harry left.

“We’ll see you Sunday night at the usual time,” she said briskly. Sirius always kept Harry as late as he could get away with, dropping him off at Privet Drive well after dinner.

“See you then,” Sirius said. That gave them a two-day head start--he could work with that.

Outside, he got Harry settled in the sidecar with his helmet on, then swung his leg over the bike and started the engine. When they were high in the clouds over Surrey, Sirius had relaxed enough to start planning ahead, instead of reacting. The first step was to stop at his place in Islington to pack some necessities for them both. Then, the two of them would head to Remus’s and enlist his help, preferably by taking him away with them. Sirius could only imagine how that conversation was going to go.

Hey Moony, I may have just kidnapped our godson and now we probably have to flee the country before they realize what I've done and start looking for us, want to come with?

Beside him, Harry gave a whoop of laughter, and Sirius grinned. Whatever happened now, it would be worth it, as long as Harry was happy.

[breadqueen95]

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

[chubbology]

Inertia

prompt: a man gains weight trying to get his ex-girlfriend back, but goes way too far and gets addicted to gaining

He hadn’t gone to the gym even once in ages.

After a year of singlehood, he wasn’t ashamed to admit anymore that he’d only really gone in the first place to impress women. Ironic, of course, since his ex had never been more than vaguely dissatisfied about his gym habit.

When they first started dating, he had love handles he hated and his thighs had been too thick. He assumed she dated him despite these flaws. Only after he lost weight to please her did he find out that it was his chub that caught her eye. It was bigger guys she was into. It was a lot of miscommunication. A lot of insecurity on his part, since what her preferences meant was that she wanted him to be a little heavy, and he couldn’t possibly accept that with his society-ingrained doctrines about attractiveness.

But those doctrines meant fuck-all now; he was eating a double cheeseburger in his car, helping it down with an orange soda, thinking about dessert. He was wondering if she’d be proud of him now that he’d gained thirty pounds. He wondered if she’d look at him with half-lidded eyes like she used to, if he put on another thirty. Fifty. Whatever.

His phone buzzes. He sits up straighter, belly swelling a little into his lap. It’s her.

Hey. My friend needs to sell her two tickets. I know it’s your favorite band. Interested?

The next text was a link to an information page about an upcoming concert. He’d been so disconnected lately, he hadn’t even heard about it.

Even though he wasn’t actually all that interested, he replied that he was, and they set a date to meet up the next week. Shit. He looked down at himself. If she were someone else, she might be repelled. But she wasn’t someone else…

He was hit with a brilliant, maybe brilliantly stupid, idea. It’s execution began with going right back through the drive thru.

In the days leading up to seeing his ex again, he ate almost constantly. Since he was only doing freelance online at the moment, his work didn’t get in the way of this. He let himself eat whatever he wanted, in amounts three times what his body craved. He pushed himself to a state of being constantly past full. She liked fat guys? Fine. Even if she still didn’t want anything to do with him, he wanted her to see what he could have been, if he hadn’t been such a gym-rat douchebag. If he’d let himself become a lazy, docile boyfriend like she wanted instead, weak and overweight.

It was hard, gaining a lot of weight in a week. The number on the scale didn’t go up as much as he expected, even though he’d eaten enough calories to gain twenty pounds at least. He compensated by showing up to their meeting spot wearing clothes that tightly hugged his body, which now had a good forty-ish pounds of fat clinging to it. Looking in the mirror before he left, he’d almost seen what she was into. His ass had gotten kind of wide and dumpy, but in a sexy way?

He was all nerves when she showed up looking healthy and cute and indifferent about him, holding the tickets in her hands. Almost indifferent. She definitely gave him a once-over, when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could tell she bit the inside of her lip.

“Well,” she said, meeting his eyes fearlessly. Were her cheeks a little red, or was that wishful thinking? “I’ll see you.”

“Really?” he blurted. “Kinda miss hanging out.”

She smiled and turned to leave. “Maybe.”

He went home and binged hard.

*

In contrast to how he grew too slowly in the week before meeting up with her, in the weeks afterward, he gained weight doubletime. Fat rounded him out as easy as if he were a swiftly filling water balloon, engorging his thighs and belly and ass and hips wide and heavy. He ate compulsively as his appetite skyrocketed, as cravings crushed his will to restrain himself. His budget was thrown out of whack as he spent his savings on pantry loads of unhealthy food. His clothes stretched and seams snapped as he struggled to fit in his largest clothes. He shopped in the plus sized section first for comfort, then by necessity.

All the while he could only think: I wished she was watching.

He started imagining her with him. In the car as he ate fast food. At the store as he bought new clothes. Walking beside him as he forced himself to get exercise.

“Slow down, big guy.” “No, I think you need one size bigger.” “Sweating already? You’re so out of shape.”

Why did he like it? Imagining her mocking him? Teasing him? Eyeing his body, fleshy and overfed.

The next time she texted, it was late at night, and his eyes were glazed watching television, eating huge spoonfuls of that miracle drug called Nutella. His belly swelled out of his shirt. His breasts and face were puffy. According to the numbers he punched into Google, he had long crossed the threshold of obesity.

How was the concert?

He stared at the words. This was it. Maybe his only chance. He replied: Didn’t go after all. Been feeling off lately.

To his (very manly) delight, this prompted more questions, and it became clear she wanted a real conversation. Was she thinking of him? Missing him like he missed her? He thought out every response with the careful focus of a rocket scientist. He wasn’t going to mess this up.

He didn’t seem to, and they texted into the early hours of the morning, catching up. Finally, finally she asked to meet up with him again, and - feeling more eager, a little reckless - he tapped out a disclaimer. Or to her, hopefully: motivation.

Just so you aren’t shocked when you see me, I’ve put on weight since I bought those tickets from you. I’m not sensitive about it or anything, but it’s a lot. So here’s a fair warning.

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. Held his breath. Held it…

Oh. Really?

Like before, they set a time the following week. This time, to get coffee. No big deal.

He knew he had more than fulfilled his little scheme of putting on weight to catch her attention, and he could push the breaks now, but he felt helpless against his inertia. At this point, he’d cultivated half a dozen habits that had his weight steadily rising, and he couldn’t just turn them off. If he so much as thought of eating less, his whole body seized up in fearful anticipation and unhappiness, and he found himself cramming a couple moonpies into his mouth just to calm down.

He gained another six pounds between their text conversation and their coffee date. He felt so out of control, so out of shape, so out of line with the standards of popular society that he felt oddly…free. In a way, he felt free of anxious self-consciousness as he heaved himself out of his car and waved at her through the coffee shop window. She was sitting in a corner at a table for two. Despite his warning, she looked a little shocked.

When he sat down across from her, his huge ass hanging off the ends of the seat, she appeared to inhale deeply. Her expression was inscrutable.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said.

Blushing, he supposed he deserved a bit of tactlessness, for the tactless way he broke up with her. “What? Oh. Yeah, no. I wasn’t.”

She sipped her coffee, eyes flicking between his flabby chest and his flabby face. In a low tone that no one else would hear, she said, “What happened? For you to get fat as fuck.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. This wasn’t how he was expecting this to go. “Well. I’ve been working from home, stressed out. I let myself go and…” He trailed off when he realized her eyes were cold. No - so hot they seemed cold, like his shower water when turned to the highest setting.

“Is this because of me?” she asked, cutting to the chase. She crossed her legs, now openly surveying him. “Did you decide it was okay to gain a hundred pounds because you thought I’d be into it?”

He was speechless. He swallowed.

“Well? Do you want me back that badly? Ever since I saw you last time, all chubbed out, I’ve been thinking maybe I should give you a second chance.”

“Um.”

“But I don’t know…” She shrugged, but a smirk was hiding just behind that indifferent frown, and he wanted. He wanted her forgiveness, whatever that meant. “How about you gain a hundred more and we’ll go on a real date? Sound good? You’re not the only fat guy out there.”

She was full-on grinning now, and he missed her little games like this. He could play them, too.

“Maybe, but I bet I’m the only guy who’s gotten this fat for you,” he said. She was immediately affected by this, and he licked his lips. “You really want to wait to see me a hundred pounds bigger than this, or do you want to stick around to watch?”

Even quieter, she said, “You saying you like gaining weight? How convenient.”

So she still doubted him. He put out his hands for her to see. “Just look. Look at how fat my hands are. I can’t…” And finally his composure cracked a little. “I can’t stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted. Even if you never talk to me again, I’m gonna gain weight.”

Any playfulness was gone now from her. She looked like she wanted him, too. “Hmm. Maybe we should go before you break that poor chair, huh?”

He blushed again. God, he was getting docile. “I’m not that bad,” he muttered. But she gave him a cruel grin. She hadn’t entirely forgiven him. “You will be.”

And he knew then: he was doomed. He was already a little bit into his own heaviness, and she was going to take that feeling and amplify it tenfold. She was going to enable every bad habit he had, watch him flounder under his increasing size and become weaker under layers and layers of fat until he could barely lift a two pound dumbbell.

He knew she wanted this to happen, and maybe he’d broken up with her before because he’d been afraid.

But he wasn’t anymore.

“Let’s go then,” he said.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[viastro]

in a span of three months | joshua hong

ミ★ synopsis: in which you teach joshua how to live.

ミ★ genre: strangers to lovers!au, terminally ill!reader, angst, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: mentions of depression (not mentioned heavily), implied suicidal thoughts and intention (very brief), major character death

ミ★ word count: 20,351

ミ★ pairings: joshua hong x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! here’s the longest oneshot i’ve ever written so i’d like to apologize in advance BSJKGBDKB i just wanted to mention that this isn’t necessarily realistic before you go into it, and that the reader’s illness is not mentioned in this oneshot as i didn’t want to explicitly list one. i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, it’s my best work and i put a lot of time and effort into it <3

ミ★ taglist: @coppertrashi @magicalhannie @brinnalaine @minluvly @wonunuu @suhfluffy @shuajeong @euphorencia @imjustuhhvibing​ @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me @shuahaeee @jaeyuni @sunflowergyeomie

january 2, 2021 

The date flashes back at you from your lockscreen, and a breath escapes you as you turn off your phone. Your leg bounces against the floor in anxiousness as you wait for him to tell you the results from your recent test.

“I’m sorry, yn.” You slowly look up towards your doctor, seeing the grave expression on his face. Your grip on the chair tightens when he folds his hands together, turning towards you. 

“We estimate that you only have three more months to live. We will give you medication…” The rest of his words are tuned out as your gaze falls down to the table, the sound of your heartbeat is loud against your ears. You bite the inside of your cheek, listening to it thrum. 

I’m dying, yet I can feel my heartbeat right now. I can hear it. It’s beating.

I’m alive.

You stand up from your chair when Dr. Park does, and you give him as bright of a smile as you can muster when you bow towards him. He stares at you with pity in his eyes, and you hate it.

You hate it so much.

“Eat whatever you want, do things you’ve always wanted to do. Live your life, yn. I’ll see you at your next appointment.” Dr. Park tells you, and you nod your head. Giving him a small smile, you grab your bag and walk out of the room, tightly squeezing the strap as you exit the hospital.

Once outside, you suck in a deep breath of air, having felt as if you were suffocating in that building the longer you were in it. Rubbing the back of your neck, you look over towards the Han River, seeing the Banpo bridge shine brightly during the night. 

Letting out a sigh, you head in the direction of the bridge, deciding to walk home rather than take the bus like you usually do. Your heart remains heavy as you look around at your surroundings, wondering what you should do during your last few months of living. 

It’s strange.

Having a known deadline on your own life.

As you make it onto the bridge, you turn your head to look out along the Han River as you walk. The slight wind from the water breezes past you during the night, and you somehow find that it’s the only thing able to calm you down from the raging storm within you. Letting out a small smile, you notice how pretty Seoul is at night.

With the city lights shining brightly back at you, the busy streets roaring with life even during the relatively late hours. The bright stars glowing down from the sky, surrounding the beautiful moon that reflects its light across the Han River. 

“Ah, life is beautiful.” You mutter softly, turning your head and looking forward. You raise an eyebrow when you see a blonde head of hair standing in front of the railing along the bridge, just staring out at the water. Coming to a stop, you stare at the person a few feet from you, wondering what they’re doing. 

Your eyes trail down to see his hands gripping the railing tightly, and you tilt your head at the sight. Taking a few steps forward, the man seems to have not noticed your presence. He just looks out across the water with a blank stare, the whites of his knuckles becoming more prominent when he tightens his grip again. At this point, you decide to interrupt.

“Hi.” You greet cheerfully, and the guy blinks out of his dazed state from the sound of your voice. He slowly turns his head towards you, and you feel warmth flood your face immediately at how ethereal this man is.

His platinum hair falls softly over his forehead, wisps of it flying up slightly due to the light wind. His deerlike eyes stare into yours, and you find that they emphasize his beautiful features that much more. However, the exhaustion is evident in his gaze.

“Hey.” The stranger replies, voice soft and airy, somehow matching his appearance even though he seems tired. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, stepping forward so that you’re now right beside him. His eyes widen slightly, before they relax to their normal size. He shrugs his shoulders, glancing over at the road when a car drives by. “Just standing on the bridge.”

You give him a close-lipped smile, tilting your head as you press on, “Why?” 

“Just cause.” 

You nod your head, turning around so that you can rest your forearms onto the railing. Raising your hand up, you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, letting out a sigh of content as you lay eyes on the beautiful scenery once again. The ethereal man turns to glance at you, wondering what you could possibly want.

“Live your life.” You say in a soft tone, and he simply blinks at you.

“What?” 

You turn your head towards the pretty man, “Life is short when you think about it. It can suck a lot of the time, as well as be unfair, but sometimes…” 

Your voice trails off as you look up at the stars, realizing just how small you are in this great, big universe. “Sometimes it can be beautiful.” 

The stranger tilts his head up and stares at the sky along with you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you as you do so.

“I wish I could see it like you do.” You look over at him, finding that he’s still staring up at the sky. His breath is visible due to the cold temperatures, and you watch as he lets out a sigh. He turns towards you, giving you a heartbreaking smile, “Life hasn’t been kind to me.” 

The two of you stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and you find that you’re more similar than you originally thought. You feel the exact same way about life, and you’ve asked life for years, why you? Why did it have to be you? 

You could never find the answer.

And so, you smile at the stranger, who tilts his head at you, wondering how one can be so bright and cheerful. You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, handing it towards him after you unlock it. He raises an eyebrow as he reaches out and takes it, “You know I could totally just take this and run, right?” 

You nod your head, letting out a quiet giggle that rings in the blonde’s ears. He finds the sound to be rather pleasant. “I know, but I have a feeling you’re not that type of person.”

He purses his lips, nodding his head in agreement. Glancing down at the cellular device, he sees your wallpaper, a photo of you holding a cat with a big smile on your face. His eyes trail back up towards your face, as if to ask what you want him to do with your phone. 

You sigh with a teasing look on your face, and you take the phone from his grasp, opening up the contacts menu before holding it back out towards him. “Put your number in.” 

The blonde’s eyes widen slightly, before he tentatively types in his number, handing it back to you. You grasp the phone in your hand, a breath leaving your lips when you finally learn his name.

“Why do you want my number?” He asks, and you look up from your phone, giving your new friend a smile. 

“Since life hasn’t been kind to you, I wanted to be.” You answer simply, and he stares into your eyes with an indecipherable emotion to them at your answer. 

After a moment, he turns his body towards the railing of the bridge again, staring out at the city without saying anything else. You follow suit, resting your forearms onto the cool metal as you breathe in the fresh air. 

“My name is yn.” You tell him in a soft voice, not expecting a response. A few minutes pass when you finally hear his voice say,

“My name is Joshua.” 

Joshua taps the eraser of his pencil onto his notebook, blankly staring off at the projector screen while he tunes out everything the professor is saying. The only thing on his mind is you, the person he met last week on the bridge. 

You haven’t contacted him yet, and he’s beginning to wonder if you were just a figment of his imagination. That deep down, he wanted to stay, so his consciousness created a positive person to appear right before him, convincing him to live another day.

“Yn.” Joshua whispers underneath his breath, and he tilts his head to the side, having not realized how nice your name was until this very moment. He only pays attention to the lecture when his professor announces the homework, and he quickly jots down the page numbers to read. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he steps out of the auditorium and begins to walk off campus. 

Some university students would usually go and meet up with their friends after class to go and eat, or they’d go and meet their significant other to study together. Then there’s Joshua, who does neither of those things. 

“Hey Josh.” The blonde nods his head at his boss in greeting, letting the door close behind him as he walks over into the back to change. 

Everyday Joshua just goes through the motions, doing what he has to do to survive, as dramatic as that sounds. Go to uni, work a six hour shift to pay for his tuition, head home and study, then barely sleep. He wakes up the next day and does it all over again. 

Joshua has gotten used to the feeling of being numb.

He tiredly ties the apron onto his waist before going and washing his hands. The call of his name makes him glance up from the floor as he wipes his hands on a paper towel, his boss appears at the doorway, holding the notepad and pen towards him.

Joshua sends him a tight smile, stepping forward and taking the pen and paper from his hand. He feels himself get a pat on the back as his manager walks past him, and he lets out a breath, before walking out into the restaurant. 

His eyes trail over to two women seated at a booth, waiting for their orders to be taken. Joshua doesn’t feel like going over there yet, as the words you told him that night ring in his head. 

Live your life. 

Joshua scoffs quietly, remembering the bright smile you showed him. He looks down at the notepad in his hand, wondering how you could find life to be so beautiful when he’s never seen it that way. His head snaps up when he hears his name be called, and he immediately walks over to the table, clicking open the pen.

“Hi. What can I get started for you guys today?” 

“One sikhye please!” The woman nods her head at you, and you smile as you hand her the correct amount of money. She hands you your order number, and you walk over to the other side of the food stand, waiting to be called.

Your hands make their way into your pockets, your hand wrapping around your phone. Tilting your head, you remember the pretty blonde you met on the bridge. You suck in a deep breath of the cool air, looking up towards the sky to catch the beginning of the sunset. A smile makes its way onto your face at the different pink and orange hues of the sky.

You fail to notice the blonde head of hair looking in your direction, wondering how you always manage to have a smile on your face. It’s only when you feel that tingly feeling of someone staring at you that you look back down, turning your head to find those deerlike eyes boring into yours.

Your mouth drops open in surprise, and you grin happily, raising your hand up and waving towards the ethereal man. 

“Hi Jos-” You’re cut off when your order number gets called, and you hold up a finger at the blonde to signal him to wait, before quickly grabbing your sikhye and walking over to him. 

“Hi Joshua.” You finally greet properly, taking a tiny sip of the sweet rice drink as he stares at you quietly. He clicks his tongue, tilting his head at you, “You never texted me.” 

Pursing your lips at the fact that he was waiting, you slowly hold out the drink in apology. Joshua glances down at it, before looking back at you with a raise to his eyebrow. 

“Don’t you want it?”

“Take my apology drink.”

“But you just ordered this-”

“I can buy another one.” 

The corner of Joshua’s lip quirks up slightly, before he takes the drink from your grasp and takes a sip. You let out a smile, before pointing back towards the drink stand, “I’ll go buy myself another drink and then we can hangout.” 

You’re about to turn around when you feel a hand grasp your wrist, stopping you from walking over. Your eyes slowly glance down, before they trail back up to see Joshua staring at you, straw in his mouth as he takes another sip of the sikhye. 

He lets go of your wrist and walks over to the stand himself, ordering the drink for you. You’re left flabbergasted as he hands the employee his card, and you watch as a blush rises to the woman’s face the longer she communicates with the pretty man. 

Once he’s handed his order number, he walks back towards you, seeing the shocked look on your face. He raises his hand up and waves it in front of your face, and you finally look back into his eyes. 

“Why do you look so shocked?” Joshua asks, slightly biting on the straw as he awaits your response. Your mouth opens and closes, before you just let out a huff, reaching out and hitting Joshua’s arm softly. He still feigns pain, his hand reaching up and rubbing the area.

“Ow.”

You giggle at his reaction, “Thank you for the drink, Joshua. Except now I feel like the apology drink I gave you doesn’t count since you bought me one.” 

Joshua shrugs, looking back over towards the drink stand when he hears your order number be called. He shoots you a glance over his shoulder, “Consider it a gift.”

It’s only when Joshua walks back and hands you the sikhye that you wonder how he’s been doing. You stare at him for a moment as he places the receipt into his wallet, and you find that the darkness under his eyes is still evident. You even think they might be a bit darker than when you first saw him as he looks back up at you. 

“Is something on my face?” Joshua asks when he notices the furrow to your brow. Your eyes widen slightly and you shake your head, giving him a reassuring grin. “I just thought you were handsome.” 

Joshua’s mouth drops open at your honesty, while you internally panic at the fact that that was your coverup for staring at him. You watch as a tinge of pink appears on his cheeks, and you honestly find the sight so endearing that you have to look away. 

“Let’s go to the arcade!” You exclaim, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that you called him handsome as you point towards the colorful arcade down the block. Joshua raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair when he nods his head. “Okay.”

The two of you go on your way to the arcade, walking in a relative silence, the sounds of you both taking sips of your sikhye filling the quiet. Joshua pushes open the door for you, and you smile, nodding your head at him. 

“What a gentleman.” The blonde lets out a scoff at the nickname, and you giggle at his reaction once he steps inside after you. You both walk over to the machine that gives you the game card, and you quickly shove your credit card into the slot before Joshua can, effectively paying for the game card the two of you will share.

Joshua rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink, “You should’ve let me pay for it.” 

You don’t respond, instead heading over to the racing games without another word. Joshua pauses when you glance over your shoulder with a smile, “Consider it a gift.” 

He watches as you skip towards the game with the motorcycle, the sight of your bright smile still imprinted in his brain. He shakes his head as if it’ll clear his thoughts, before following after you. 

Joshua’s head falls back onto his pillows as he stares up at the ceiling of his dark room, the comforter resting over him. 

He’s always had trouble sleeping. It started out by him sleeping later and later as he grew older, until he could only fall asleep at around 4 or 5 in the morning. 

Joshua’s eyes trail over to the window beside him, and he lets out a quiet huff when he sees that the moon isn’t shining back at him. The stars are a bit dim, but they’re still evident in the dark sky. 

He looks back up towards the ceiling, and he closes his eyes when the thought of your smile comes into mind again. 

Joshua glances at you when you let out another giggle, and he finds himself wondering for the nth time how you can be so happy. You rest your head onto his shoulder for a second while you laugh, and he freezes slightly at the contact.

“Your face when I beat you at air hockey was so funny.” You manage to say through your laughing fit, reaching up to cover your mouth with your hand in an attempt to stop more giggles from pouring through. Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, remembering how happy you were when you won the arcade game. 

“Was it really that funny?” Joshua asks, and you nod your head with an incredulous look on your face. He lets out a sigh, placing his hands into his pockets as he looks up towards the night sky. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the scenery as you calm down from the joys of the arcade. 

You turn your head to look at the blonde, “Did you have fun tonight?” 

The blonde doesn’t respond right away, instead letting his head fall so that he’s now staring at the sidewalk while the two of you walk to the bus stop. You nod, understanding that he probably didn’t enjoy the games as much as you did. 

“It’s okay if you didn’t. I know a few people who don’t actually like arcades-”

“I enjoyed it.” Joshua answers, turning to look at you with a close-lipped smile on his face. He watches as your eyes practically sparkle back at him from the sight. “Really?” 

Joshua nods his head, and you raise your hands up to your warm face, feeling accomplished. He looks away from you as the two of you continue to walk, finding you to be rather endearing. Once the two of you make it to the bus stop, you turn around to face the ethereal man, giving him a bright smile that makes his heart stutter within his chest. 

“I’m happy you had fun, Joshua. I’ll make sure to text you this time!” You say happily as the bus pulls up, and you raise your hand up to wave at him. 

Joshua keeps his hands in his pockets once you turn around and head onto the bus. He watches as you walk towards the window seat, immediately pulling open the window once you sit down. You give him another smile and a wave, and he tilts his head at you. 

It’s only when the bus pulls away from the curb that Joshua raises his hand up and waves back at you. 

Joshua’s eyes glance over to the window again, and he decides that you were brighter than all of the stars in the sky tonight. 

He manages to fall asleep earlier this time, around 2 am. 

Your smile was the last thing on his mind before he did so. 

Joshua sits at his desk, mindlessly doing his homework as the soft guitar instrumental plays in the background of his room. He taps the eraser against his bottom lip, before pressing the led onto the paper again.

The sound of his phone receiving a notification captures his attention, and he glances down at the cool metal, seeing an unfamiliar number. He slides up on his lockscreen and reads the message.

you: joshua ! it’s me yn >:D

The blonde lets out a breathless chuckle, lifting up his phone and sending a response back.

joshua: so you actually texted me this time

you: don’t make me feel bad ! D: i was busy after i met you that night 

i gave you my sikhye last week to make up for it !

The corner of Joshua’s lips quirks upwards at your use of emoticons, knowing that you most likely pouted as you typed the message.

joshua: it was very good

you: i know right

anyways, do you wanna hangout later today? i wanna go to the park to take pictures when the sun sets

joshua: so you’re using me as your professional photographer

you: of course :3

joshua: pft

you: see you at around 5 <3333

joshua: i’ll see you

The blonde sets down his phone, running a hand through his hair as he looks out his window. The blue skies stare back at him, and he watches as a few birds fly past. His eyes trail back over towards his laptop, and he sighs. 

“I’ll finish this assignment before I start to get ready.” 

It’s only a few hours later that Joshua’s walking towards the park, hands in his pockets as he listens to the sound of life around him. He looks around at his surroundings, about to enter the park entrance when he catches sight of a tteokbokki stand.

He watches as a couple hands the lady some money, before she prepares their bowls that will hold the yummy rice cake. He specifically eyes the mozzarella cheese she layers over it, and Joshua suddenly wonders when he became hungry.

“I wonder if yn would want some.” Joshua mutters to himself, tilting his head the longer he debates on whether or not to spend his money.

He fails to notice you standing not too far from him, smiling as you watch him practically waddle in place as he stares at the food stand. You walk up to the blonde, reaching out and resting your hands on both of his arms, peering over his shoulder.

“Are you hungry?” Joshua chokes on his saliva at your sudden appearance, causing you to double over in laughter and apologies as you try to help him breathe properly. He squints at you when he finally regains his composure, still clearing his throat as he pats his chest. 

“I’m literally so fucking sorry.” His eyes turn into slits at your apology, watching as your shoulders shake from the laughter you’re trying to hold back. Joshua gently pushes you with his hand, before turning around and walking into the park, tteokbokki now forgotten.

“Joshua! I’m sorry!” You laugh from behind, walking faster in order to catch up to him. Joshua doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pick up his pace either, instead letting you hurry to his side. You smile at him, peeking your head in front of his face so that he can look at you. “Do you forgive me?”

“You thought me choking was funny.” 

“True.” You admit, and Joshua scoffs at your answer, rolling his eyes teasingly as he nudges you with his shoulder again. You grin happily, nudging him back as you pull out your phone from your pocket. 

“The sun is setting which means we probably only have 20 minutes to take the best sunset photos known to man. You’re my designated photographer today, remember?” Joshua begrudgingly takes the phone from your grasp, and you walk onto the relatively empty field of grass, raising your arms up towards the sky. The blonde just lets out a sigh loud enough for you to hear as he goes onto the camera app, 

“Ah, what a tragic life I live.” 

“You should be happy that you’re photographing such beauty!” You shout, and the corner of Joshua’s lip quirks up when he sees the furrow to your brow. He lifts up the phone so that you’re in frame, but peeks his head out from behind it.

“Do you want me to just take a billion photos?” He asks, and you give him a thumbs up. The blonde nods his head, going back into photographer mode as he starts to take photos of you. 

You’re quite surprised at how seriously Joshua’s taking this photography gig, with the way he’s angling the camera and the straight face he has on. You find yourself giggling at the sight, causing the blonde to pause when he sees your smile through the camera. 

Your eyes widen slightly when you see him stiffen, realizing your laughter might’ve accidentally thrown him off his game, “Was my giggling bad? Sorry!”

Joshua shakes his head immediately at your apology, lowering your phone from his face so that you can see him properly. It’s as if your heart stops when you do look at him.

His platinum hair is flowing a bit with the wind, similar to when you first met him that night on the bridge. His deerlike eyes are boring into yours, and you find a tinge of pink dusting across his cheeks as he runs a hand through his hair. 

Joshua hides his face behind your phone again, wanting to capture your reaction when he says, 

“Don’t apologize. Your smile is pretty.”

Your mouth drops open at the compliment, having not received one from the past couple weeks of knowing the man. Joshua captures the moment on your phone, a breath leaving his lips when he sees a smile make its way onto your face. 

“Thank you.” You mutter, radiance to your features as you start posing again underneath the sky painted with various shades of pink and purple. He nods his head as he continues to capture more photos of you, silently wondering how he finds you to be prettier than the beautiful sunset behind you.

“No problem.”

You stare into those lovely brown eyes with a determined look on your face, making the blonde raise an eyebrow at you in confusion. He reaches his hand out towards you, and you stare at it, wondering what he’s going to do. 

“Ow!”

It only results in you rubbing your forehead with a glare, while Joshua just goes back to drinking his coffee—now happy about flicking your forehead. You slam your fists gently onto the wooden table, and the ethereal man just stares at you in silence.

“You know what we should do?” You ask, and Joshua stays quiet, knowing you’re going to answer the question anyways. A grin makes its way onto your face as you give him jazz hands, “Go to the store so that I can buy groceries because my fridge is low.” 

Joshua lets out a sigh, giving you an unimpressed look as he turns to face out the window. He’s not surprised, really. The last time the two of you hung out was just Joshua accompanying you to the library so that you wouldn’t have to return your books alone.

“Come on! I’ll buy you any snacks you want while we’re there. Besides, grocery shopping is fun.” Joshua continues to sip from his drink, somehow not surprised that you find restocking your food supply to be fun either.

“Well, more fun when you’re with someone at least.” You correct, and the blonde finally peeks at you, seeing the knowing smile on your face. He glances out the window, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to appear indifferent. “As long as you buy me the snacks I want.”

“Of course, Joshua. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t buy you your favorite snacks?”

“No, not those snacks. Those are expensive.” Joshua just stares at you in silence, bag of chips in hand as he watches you reach out towards the off-brand version. You pick up the bag, holding it out towards the pretty man and waving it for good measure. “These are cheaper and taste the same. Trust me, Joshua.”

“You told me that you’d buy the snacks I wanted if I went grocery shopping with you.” Joshua mutters with a pout to his lips, and you simply flash him an apologetic smile as you toss the bag into the cart while taking the original one from his grasp and returning it. The blonde scoffs, nudging you with his shoulder, and you giggle as you walk off towards the next aisle. “Yes, but we’re on a budget here.” 

Joshua pushes the cart after you, listening contently as you explain what you’re missing at your apartment and what food you should make for dinner. His eyes follow your movements as you gesture with your hands, now explaining a story of how you almost set your toy kitchen on fire when you were younger. 

Your eyes twinkle underneath the fluorescent light, and your lips are turned upwards in a warm smile as you look back on the memory. Your voice is soft but cheerful as you tell him about the memory while throwing in some items into the cart, and Joshua finds that there’s a lump in his throat as he watches you giggle.

You turn your head to look at the blonde, just to find his pretty eyes staring at you with an indecipherable emotion in them. Feeling warmth flood your face from his stare, you look down at the cart to place the box of tea in your hands. 

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, proceeding to walk out of the aisle to go to the bread section. Joshua stays quiet for a moment, staring at your fingers peeking out of your sweater paws as your arms swing back and forth.

When you don’t hear a response, you move to glance back at him, only to pause when he pushes the cart forward so that he’s now walking right beside you. Joshua raises his hand up and fondly pats your head, making your eyes widen at the sweet gesture. 

You slowly turn towards him, just to find the smallest hint of a smile on his face. Warmth floods your face at the lovely sight, and you can’t help but feel slightly disappointed when Joshua’s hand falls back onto the cart handle. 

The two of you gaze into each other's eyes in silence for a moment, and you begin to wonder when that hint of a sparkle began to show in Joshua’s eyes over the last month of the two of you hanging out. He turns away when he feels the tips of his ears turn red, looking over towards the bread aisle. You watch as he takes a step forward with the cart as he suddenly says,

“Let’s get this bread.” 

You let out a loud laugh at the old meme, startled at the fact that Joshua even said that as you follow after him. 

As Joshua watches you choose the bread you want while also picking out some cookies for the two of you to share on the way to your apartment, he finds himself feeling content for the first time in a long time. 

“Hope you enjoy it.” Joshua says as he places the last dish onto the table, giving the customers a tight smile before walking back over to the register. He rests his head into his hands, grimacing at the oncoming migraine he knows will come later in the hour. 

He peeks through his fingers to look at the clock, seeing that he’s still on shift for another three hours. The blonde lets out a quiet groan, wondering if his boss has any aspirin he could possibly take.

The sound of the bells chiming from the door opening is what has him look up, trying to mask the pain from his headache as he stares towards the entrance. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you standing there, a bright smile on your face as you wave at the pretty man. 

“Yn?”

You quickly walk up towards Joshua, feeling happy that you were able to come visit him during his shift. You slam your hand on the counter that keeps the two of you separated, while raising ₩20,000 towards his face with your other. Joshua simply raises an eyebrow at you, wondering why you look so determined.

“I’ll have your favorite dish from here and for you to eat it with me during your break.” 

“Are you trying to buy me, yn? My favorite dish is only 7,000 won-” 

“Now don’t make me sound like a bad person! You should be grateful I’m buying us food—your favorite nonetheless.” You whine, and Joshua just chuckles at the pout to your lips. You squint when he doesn’t take the money from you, only for your mouth to drop open in protest when you see him pull out his card.

“Joshua!”

“I’ll pay for the meal. It’ll keep me safe since you wanted to buy me-”

“I did not!” You laugh, watching as the receipt comes out from the printer after he pays for the meal. He places his card back into his wallet, before motioning towards a booth near the wall. “Go sit down, I’ll let my boss know I’m going on my 30.” 

You nod your head, walking over to the booth and sitting down on the rather worn out cushions. While you wait for Joshua, you rest your head onto your arms over the table, closing your eyes. A sad smile forms on your face when you hear your heartbeat in your ears, a reminder that your time left here is dwindling. 

It’s been a month and a few days since you found out about your ill-fate on that cold, January night. 

However, you haven’t found yourself thinking about your inevitable doom as often as you thought you would. Instead, you’ve been spending your days hanging out with Joshua, and using your nights to plan out the next place the two of you should go to.

You don’t know when you decided to spend your last three months trying to help Joshua see the beauty in life.

But as you look up from the table and see his pretty eyes starting to sparkle at you when he places the food down onto the surface, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he explains how his boss was teasing him,

You realize that you wouldn’t want to spend them any other way.

The two of you walk down the street side by side, taking sips of the sikhye you bought for the both of you to make up for the meal. The comfortable silence is settled over you guys like a blanket, not needing any words to be able to spend time with each other contently.

You take a peek at the beautiful man, suddenly noticing that the dark eye bags that once adorned his features have diminished significantly. The roots of his platinum hair are beginning to grow, but it seems like he doesn’t really care. 

You wouldn’t care if you looked like Joshua, either.

He’s too pretty.

“Who?” 

God fucking damn it.

You immediately look away from Joshua’s curious gaze, warmth flooding your face at the fact that you just blatantly announced that he was too pretty when the two of you were walking in a relatively comfortable silence. 

“Cha Eunwoo from Astro.” You lie, and the blonde nods his head in agreement after a moment, turning back to face the front. Silence falls over the two of you again, and you’re incredibly grateful that he didn’t ask more questions.

But you also find yourself a bit disappointed at the lack of them.

When the two of you end up at the front of your apartment building, you both turn towards each other to say your goodbyes. However, as the streetlight lays over Joshua’s blonde hair, almost mimicking the appearance of a halo, you realize you don’t really want the night to end.

“Thank you for visiting me at work, yn. Make sure to text me when you get into your apartment.” Joshua tells you with his soft voice. You hum in response, shifting from one foot to another. “Thank you for the food. I’ll try to visit more.” 

Joshua nods his head, raising his hand up to send you a tentative wave. “I’ll see you later, yn.” 

You smile softly, waving back at him as he turns around and starts to walk away. An internal battle goes on inside you as you try to figure out what you want to do, watching as his figure gets smaller as the distance grows between you.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shout out:

“Do you wanna come in and watch a movie with me?!”

Joshua pauses at the question, like, physically and mentally freezes. His eyes are wide as he stares at the pavement, and he wonders why his heart is beating so fast in his chest at the question. There’s a small breeze that passes the both of you, and you bite your bottom lip.

The silence is deafening.

Joshua slowly turns to glance at you, and you feel your heart sink slightly at the shocked expression on his face. You’ve come to realize as the two of you look at each other, that you asking him to come in was a mistake. So you open your mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to,

“Okay.” Your mouth remains open at his answer, believing that you must’ve just imagined him agreeing to your suggestion. 

And so you respond, “Heh?”

Joshua huffs, walking over so that the two of you are only a foot apart. He squints at you, and you furrow your eyebrows in response to the expression on his face.

“Yes. I’ll come in and watch a movie with you.” 

“Oh.” 

The two of you stare at each other for another moment. With you just gauging what he said while Joshua stands in silence, amusement and shyness written across his features. 

You suddenly let out a gasp, the fact that he said yes now sinking in as you step over towards the entrance and slide your card so that the doors will open. Joshua chuckles at the obvious embarrassment on your face when the doors finally open and you gesture towards the inside of the lobby.

“Let’s go up.” You say with a tight smile, and the blonde nods his head, following after you as the doors shut behind the both of you. 

The way to your apartment is rather quiet, except for the quiet chuckles Joshua lets out whenever he glances at you and you having to elbow him in the stomach. 

When you finally unlock your door and the two of you step inside, you suddenly realize all of your medication that you have to hide. You turn to face Joshua as he slips off his shoes and steps into the pair of slippers you have for guests, and his beautiful eyes land on you, signaling that you have his attention.

“You can go and sit on the couch, I just need to tidy up a bit.” The blonde nods his head, watching as you scurry off to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. He lets out a breath, before walking over towards the couch, gaze travelling around your cozy apartment. 

His eyes latch onto a framed photo on the table next to the couch, and he carefully picks it up, feeling warmth flood his chest at the sight. 

You’re standing underneath a fully bloomed cherry blossom tree, a bright smile on your face as you look at the camera. Your arms are lifted up towards the sky in excitement, a habit of yours that Joshua has noticed in the month that he’s known you. 

He gently places the photo back down onto the table when he hears your bedroom door open, and he looks over to see you now dressed in a set of strawberry pajamas. The sight is so precious to behold that Joshua lets out a soft smile, and your eyes widen when you see it.

He smiled. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile.

“Are my pajamas funny to you?” You squeak out in an attempt to not make him uncomfortable by mentioning his smile. Holding back from slapping yourself at your strange tone, you just watch as Joshua nods his head, an emotion akin to warmth flooding his beautiful eyes as he stares at you. 

“I expected nothing less from you, yn.” Joshua responds softly, and you find no sign of teasing in his voice. You cough into your shoulder, breaking the eye contact as soon as you feel heat rush up to your face. Reaching out towards the remote, you turn on the TV and point towards the couch. 

“Go sit and choose a movie, I’ll go and get us some snacks.” You tell the blonde, and he plops down onto the worn out sofa as you walk into your kitchen. His eyes trail after you for a moment, before he turns back to the TV and starts scrolling through your Netflix.

You come back a few minutes later with snacks in hand, just to smile at the movie he chose. Joshua glances towards you, quietly thanking you for the snacks as you settle down beside him, making sure to place a bit of distance between the two of you. 

“Have you watched this?” Joshua asks as he takes a bite of popcorn, and you nod your head, turning to him with a grin. “A Silent Voice is one of my favorite movies.” 

Joshua’s mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape, before suggesting if you want to choose another movie. You shake your head, instead grabbing the remote from the table and pressing play. 

“You chose it, so we’re going to watch it.” You mumble, leaning back into the couch and taking a sip of your water. The blonde’s eyes linger on you as the opening of the movie plays, wondering how one person could be so kind, so bright. 

You feel Joshua’s eyes on you. You know that he’s staring at you. 

But you know that your heart would just go feral and your face would turn warm if you look back. So you blindly reach out towards him with your hand, turning his head to face the TV instead. You retract your hand afterwards, a small smile on your face as you notice Joshua shaking his head in disbelief at your actions.

“Watch the movie.” You mutter, warmth flooding your cheeks as you try to appear indifferent. The blonde takes another bite of popcorn before turning back towards the TV, trying to suppress his chuckles.

The two of you watch the movie in silence, except to offer each other snacks or to shit on one of the characters you each dislike. 

It’s nice. Joshua thinks to himself at one point, turning to glance at you when you giggle at a specific scene. He looks back at the TV, biting back a small smile from forming on his face, This is nice.

When the movie hits the 45 minute mark, Joshua finds that you haven’t been taking any sips of your water or stealing some pieces of his popcorn. He’s about to comment on one of the characters when he feels a weight slump onto his shoulder. 

“Yn?” Joshua asks quietly, turning his head to look down at you. Your eyes are closed, mouth slightly open as you release puffs of air. He lets out a smile when he realizes you fell asleep, reaching out and patting your head softly. 

“Silly.” He mumbles, before taking a glance at the clock and sees that it’s already midnight. The blonde carefully grabs the remote that sits on the table and turns off the TV, before moving the snacks and drinks off the couch to the best of his ability as he tries not to wake you up.

Once he’s done with that, he carefully settles you down onto the cushions so that you’re laying comfortably. He takes the throw blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over your body. Letting out a breath once he’s finished, he grins at the angelic expression on your face as you sleep peacefully.

“I’ll see you later, yn.” Joshua says softly, before turning around to walk towards your door. 

Except for the hand that grasps onto his own, preventing him from taking another step. 

He slowly turns to glance down at you, seeing you with your eyes still closed, hand holding onto his. Joshua makes a move to carefully release the grip you have on him, but freezes when you say in a soft voice,

“Stay.” 

Joshua stares at you, unsure of what to do as you continue to hold his hand. 

“You don’t want me to stay, yn.” Joshua mutters, an indecipherable feeling flooding him when your grip on his hand tightens a bit. 

“Stay with me, Joshua.” 

And so he does. 

He scoots you over on the couch, wondering whether or not he’s gonna fall to his inevitable doom during the middle of the night as the two of you can hardly fit on the small surface. Carefully, he lays onto his back, staring up at your ceiling as silence fills the room, the fuzzy throw blanket covering you both. 

You turn over so that you’re facing him, and your hand falls onto his stomach. The blonde just listens to the sound of your steady breathing, wondering how you fell asleep so fast as he feels himself beginning to become drowsy. After a few minutes, his eyes softly fall shut, breathing now matching your own.

Joshua finds that sleep comes easier tonight.

You’re seated on the bench, waiting for Joshua to arrive as you stare at the date on your phone.

february 17, 2021

Letting out a breath at the harsh reality check, you tap your shoe against the pavement, turning off your phone to look out towards the road.

You have a month and a half left. 

“When did time move so fast? Whenever I was in the hospital it moved so slow.” You mutter, a sad smile gracing your features as you look around at all the people walking past you. Turning your head, you suddenly lock eyes with those  deerlike eyes you’ve come to know. 

Your once sad smile turns into one of pure joy as you stand up from the bench, waving your hands excitedly as Joshua walks over to you. The blonde reaches out and pats your head in greeting once he’s a foot away, and you chuckle in response, ignoring the fact that your heart rate is a bit faster now.

“How were classes?” You ask as the two of you begin walking towards the cat café. Joshua mentioned in passing a week ago that he wanted to go to a cat café, so you set up a reservation for the two of you. 

The blonde purses his lips, realizing that he’s been enjoying attending classes a bit more as of recently. You gaze at him expectantly, grinning when Joshua simply just nods his head and looks back at you. “It was alright. I was excited thinking about the cat café though, so I’ll probably have to add some stuff to my notes later.” 

“I expected you to be more of a dog person, if I’m being honest.” You state, and Joshua looks back towards the front, letting out a small grin. 

“I am.” 

“Then what are we doing going to a cat café that I made reservations for a week prior?” 

The blonde shrugs his shoulders, turning to you with mirth filling his pretty eyes. He motions towards your phone, and you raise an eyebrow, raising it up so that the two of you can see it as it unlocks. Your mouth drops open when you see your homescreen, the photo of you and your old friend’s cat that was taken a couple years back, and all the pieces suddenly come together. 

“Joshua! Did you only say you wanted to go to a cat café because you knew I liked cats? That ruins the whole purpose of this-” 

Joshua cuts you off by simply holding open the door to the cat café, and you blink in a state of stunned silence, having not realized that the two of you have already arrived. He chuckles, “I’m a dog person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like cats. I’ve always wanted to go to one, so hurry up and go in.”

Pursing your lips, you walk into the café, but not without poking the middle of Joshua’s stomach as you do so, letting out a satisfied grin at the sound of his quiet squeak. Your mouth immediately drops open when a black and white cat snuggles up to your legs, and you kneel down, petting the soft fur as you let out inaudible excited sounds. 

Joshua lets the door close behind him, the sound of the bells attached to the door letting out a little ring throughout the café. He glances down, seeing you happily petting the cats before the two of you have even ordered. 

“Yn, I’ll go order for us.” Joshua tells you, and you simply nod your head without a verbal response, still softly squealing as more cats walk up to you. The blonde lets out a breath, shaking his head with the hint of a smile on his face as he heads over to the register to place your guys’ order.

You regretfully stand up from the floor, hoping the cats will follow you as you walk over to the table you reserved. You sit down in the booth, watching as Joshua converses with the employee as he orders the food and drinks. 

Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you smile fondly when Joshua glances around to find you. Your heart warms when his eyes finally land on you, a grin forming on his face as he walks over to you. 

“There was a cat laying on the table behind the employee at the register. He was so cute, I hope he comes over to our table.” Joshua tells you as soon as he sits down into the seat across from you, placing the receipt onto the wooden surface. You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a quiet squeal when a cat jumps onto the empty space beside you. 

“Hi pretty!” You greet, sparkles in your eyes as the cat nuzzles against your hand, asking for more pets. Joshua smiles at the sight, unlocking his phone and taking a photo of you happily petting the tabby cat. The sound of the camera shutter catches your attention, and you turn to glance at the source, seeing Joshua smiling fondly down at his phone screen. 

“Did you take a photo of me playing with the beautiful cat?” You ask with a teasing grin on your face, not expecting an answer from the pretty man. You stroke the cat’s head fondly, only for your hand to stutter when Joshua says, 

“You looked cute.” 

A brief moment of silence passes between you, with Joshua staring at his phone, and you listening to your heart beat against your ears as warmth floods your face. Your brain tries to formulate a response, but it can only form inaudible screeching noises. So instead, you turn your head to glance at the blonde, only for your eyes to widen when you see a fluffy grey cat trying to get his attention.

“Joshua!” 

“What?” He asks, looking up at you when he hears the urgency in your tone. You point towards the cat sitting patiently beside his chair, and Joshua furrows his eyebrows in confusion, turning to where you pointed, only for his eyes to widen when he locks eyes with the cat.

“You followed me from the register!” Joshua exclaims in a soft voice, reaching down to pick up the cat. You let out a bright smile as Joshua coos at the precious animal, petting the cat softly as his eyes sparkle with joy.

“Yn, this is the cat I wanted to show you.” He tells you, letting out a soft chuckle when the cat nuzzles his head into Joshua’s chest. You nod your head, about to respond when the waitress walks up to your guys’ table and begins to place your order down onto the surface. 

“Thank you so much!” You say, and the waitress gives you a smile, bowing her head in response. She makes a move to leave, only to stop when she sees you and Joshua continue to play with the cats that stayed near you both. 

“Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?” You and Joshua pause, both turning to glance at the waitress as she stands by your table, a knowing smile on her face. 

You and Joshua don’t have a single photo together in the month and a half that you’ve known each other. You’re not sure how he feels about his photo being taken, as he’s usually the one behind the camera rather than in front of it when the two of you are together.

Taking a peek at Joshua to see his reaction, you notice the indecipherable look on his face, and that’s how you know his answer. You give the waitress a small smile, moving to open your mouth when you see Joshua’s hand outstretched towards her through your peripheral vision. 

You turn your head to look at him, only to see that he’s giving her a grin, phone in hand as he nods his head. “That’d be nice, thank you.” 

Joshua lifts up the cat in his lap and stands up from his chair, taking a step forward and sitting down in the booth beside you. You continue to stare at him in silence, the slight shock evident on your features when he finally turns to glance at you. He gives you a soft smile, before pointing towards the waitress preparing to take your guys’ photo. 

“Say cheese!” She says, but you continue to stare at Joshua, watching as he smiles at the camera, raising the cat’s paw as if he’s saying hello. Warmth floods your heart as you turn towards the camera, a bright smile on your face as you hold up your cat’s paw as well, matching Joshua’s pose.

As you lay in bed hours later, you turn your head towards your bedside table when you hear the vibration of your phone. Reaching out, you pick up the cool metal, seeing a few messages from Joshua.

joshushushu: [attachment 4 images] 

thank you for taking me to the cat café :3

i think you’re some sort of cat whisperer based on how many cats came up to our table lol

it’s late, so you’re probably asleep

i’ll text you in the morning ^^

sweet dreams, yn

You tap on the images Joshua sent, and you let out a smile when you see the first photo is of you smiling happily down at the tabby cat, softly petting her head. Downloading the image, your thumb swipes across the screen, and you feel warmth flood your face at the fact that it’s the photo of the two of you. Except you’re not staring at the camera.

You’re staring at Joshua.

There’s a fond smile on your face, eyes sparkling brightly at him as he smiles at the camera, seemingly having no idea of the fact that you’re staring at him rather than the camera. Biting the inside of your cheek, you download the image and swipe to the left, now seeing the photo of both you and Joshua smiling at the camera, a cat paw in hand as you each make them wave for the photo. 

You download the photo before swiping to the left one more time, and your breath hitches when you lay eyes on the image.

You’re laughing happily down at the tabby cat who was protesting the grabbing of the paws for the photo, not paying attention to posing anymore. While Joshua is now staring at you, the softest of smiles on his face as he watches you laugh with the cat. 

You let out a shaky breath, zooming into the photo and seeing that he really is looking at you. 

He’s looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You download the image, a small smile on your face as you go to your settings and replace the homescreen you’ve had for the last two years, exiting the app to now see the photo of you and Joshua as your wallpaper. The warmth from the photo covers you like a blanket, and you turn off your phone, placing it back down onto your bedside table. 

You roll over onto your side and close your eyes, ignoring the harsh reality check that’s looming in the back of your mind in order to try and retain that happy feeling.

You fall asleep with lingering thoughts of pretty cats and Joshua Hong’s smile.

“Thank you, have a good rest of your day.” Joshua says warmly as he hands the to-go bag to the customer. She gives him a smile, reaching into her pocket to take out ₩15,000 and place it onto the table. The blonde’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks back up at her in a stunned silence, as if to ask if she really means it. 

The woman nods her head, “You deserve it. Thank you for the food.” 

Joshua watches as she leaves the restaurant, still shocked as he watches her figure disappear out the door. He glances back down at the ₩15,000, reaching out and picking it up from the counter, eyeing the money for a moment. 

“I’ve been working here for six months.” Joshua mutters quietly, taking the ₩15,000 and placing it into his apron. He lets out a grateful smile, grabbing the spray bottle and towel to go and clean some tables. 

It was the first tip he’s ever received.

“See you on Friday!” Joshua calls out as he pushes back the curtain to exit the kitchen, only to stop and turn back when he hears his boss call out to him. The older man walks over to Joshua, grinning and resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“I just wanted to tell you that you look great lately.” Joshua raises an eyebrow, wondering what could’ve changed. He does a onceover of his own appearance, and his boss lets out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“I mean you in general. You look happier, brighter even. I’m happy for you.” Joshua blinks in surprise, before letting out a small smile. He bows his head as his thanks, and his boss pats his shoulder once more and turns around to walk back towards his office. 

Joshua lets out a breath, before closing the curtain behind him and walking over towards the exit. He tilts his head, “How does a person look happy?” 

He pushes open the doors and moves to step out from under the cover, only to pause when he registers the rain falling onto the road. He sighs, glancing down at his empty hands, cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. 

“Guess I have to sprint-”

“Joshua!” The blonde’s eyebrows furrow at the voice, and he looks up, seeing you hurrying over with a bright yellow umbrella. It’s a stark contrast to the rather gloomy atmosphere and all the black umbrellas around you. His heart rate picks up at the sight of your smile, watching as you make your way over until you’re standing a couple feet away from him.

“How’d you know I forgot my umbrella?” Joshua asks teasingly as you hand him the yellow umbrella, taking it from your grasp and holding it over the two of you as you begin to walk down the sidewalk. 

“Had an intuition.” You answer with a grin, and he rolls his eyes. The two of you update each other on how your days were, chuckles exchanged as you explain how you made the best kimchi fried rice of your life. 

“You should make it for me sometime.” Joshua says, and you peek at him, smiling and nodding your head. 

“Of course, Joshua.” 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, walking close beside each other in order to fit under your small umbrella. It’s when you’re close to Joshua’s apartment, and the streets are relatively quiet, that Joshua glances over and notices your hand sticking out of the umbrella. He watches in silence as you let the rain hit your skin, moving your hand as if it were a wave in the ocean.

“Your hand is getting wet.” Joshua points out, and you pause, turning to him as warmth rushes to your face at the fact that he caught you. You give him a bashful smile, nodding your head as you let your arm fall back to your side. “Yeah.” 

“Why?” You notice that he looks genuine, there’s no teasing tone in his voice, no mirth in his gaze as he stares at you. He just wants to know why you were letting your own arm get wet. You break the eye contact, looking down at the ground as the two of you continue to walk. 

“I just realized I’ve never played in the rain before.” 

Joshua stares at you for a moment longer, having not seen you so shy about something you wanted to do before. He lets out a breath, turning away as he reaches up and closes the yellow umbrella, promptly removing the shield that had been protecting the two of you from the rain.

Your eyes widen as you feel the rain hit you, and you turn your head, seeing Joshua place your umbrella down on the sidewalk. He looks back towards you, raising an eyebrow when he sees the shocked expression on your face. 

Joshua simply just closes his eyes and tilts his head up towards the sky, outstretching his arms as he feels the rain soak his clothes. That’s all you need to see for a smile to finally form on your face, and you let out a laugh, raising your arms into the air and spinning around. 

Joshua opens his eyes when he hears your laugh, and he looks over at you—only to feel his breath get taken away. The rain falls softly from the sky, landing on you as you laugh happily, a bright smile on your face. Time seems to slow down as he stares at you, heart stuttering in his chest as he watches you spin around, pure joy radiating from your features. 

He’s reminded of the first time the two of you met on the Banpo bridge almost two months ago, when you told him that life was beautiful and he didn’t understand how you could see it that way.

“I wish I could see it like you do.” Joshua mutters, and you look over at him, finding that he’s still staring up at the sky. His breath is visible due to the cold temperatures, and you watch as he lets out a sigh. He turns towards you, giving you a heartbreaking smile, “Life hasn’t been kind to me.” 

As Joshua watches you dance in the rain, he realizes that he finally understands what you mean. 

Life is beautiful.

You lay in bed, still shivering even after having taken a hot shower as soon as you finished dancing in the rain with Joshua a couple hours prior. With a shaking hand, you pull up the comforter closer to your chin, wondering when you’ve become so frail, weak you should say.

“At least Joshua hasn’t noticed anything.” You mumble, knowing that your time left is short as you’ve been feeling more tired as the days go by. Rolling over, you look out the window to try and get sleepy, seeing the moon staring back at you. 

Your hand slips out of the covers, reaching out and grasping the air as you tried to reach for the moon. Letting your arm fall back onto the bed, you let out a breath.

You always wondered if you’d ever be able to reach the moon and the stars when you were younger. 

“Yn?” Turning your head, you see Joshua standing by the door to his bedroom. His blonde hair falls softly over his forehead, almost hiding his pretty eyes from sight. You watch as he walks over, reaching out and resting his hand over your head when he notices you shivering. 

“Do you want another blanket? You’re shivering.” Giving him a soft smile, you shake your head as you simply pull the comforter up more. 

“Why are you still awake?” You ask, and he stares at you for a moment. 

The corner of his lips quirk upwards, “I should be asking you the same thing.” 

“Touché.”

Joshua chuckles, patting your head fondly before pointing back towards the bedroom door. You peek through the doorway, seeing his dark living room. “I’ll go back to the couch. I just wanted to check on you.” 

It’s when he’s about to leave that you reach out and grasp his wrist softly, promptly stopping him from taking another step. He turns to look back at you, seeing the same shy look on your face that he saw earlier. 

He’s reminded of the night where the two of you slept on the couch a few weeks prior, having experienced this exact scenario before. 

“Mm?” You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to respond. Instead, you weakly pull him towards you, and he takes a few steps towards your bedside. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment in silence, numerous questions flooding your guys’ brain as you do so. However, you can only bring yourself to mutter out one word.

“Stay.” 

Joshua’s stare doesn’t waver, and you feel yourself growing more embarrassed the longer you wait for his response. You fully believe that he’s going to say no with the way he doesn’t hold your hand in return, and your belief comes true when he lets your hand fall back to the bed. 

It shouldn’t hurt. You know that you shouldn’t have gotten attached to him, or let him become so close to you. 

You’re going to die anyways.

Joshua turning down your request is for the best. It means there are still barriers between the two of you, that the last time you woke up with his arms wrapped around you was just a moment of weakness. That it won’t happen again.

The regret pools in your heart as you watch him turn and walk away, and you wonder whether or not you should apologize for even asking him in the first place.

Only for your eyes to widen when you see him walk to the other side of the bed, pulling up the comforter and climbing in. He arranges his pillows, before laying down and turning over onto his side, now facing you. 

You stare at him in shock, and he squints at you in amusement. The blonde reaches out and pokes your forehead, snapping you out of your surprised state. He chuckles, “You asked me to stay, so I’m staying.” 

A smile finally makes its way onto your face, and Joshua lets out a breath at the sight. The moonlight rests over you, illuminating your features beautifully, even in his dark bedroom. He feels himself smile back at you, eyes softening with fondness as he stares at you.

You tentatively reach your hand out, trying your best to hide the shakiness to it as you let it rest on Joshua’s cheek. He doesn’t seem unphased from the touch, he just continues to stare into your eyes as the look on your face softens.

“You look best when you’re happy.” You say quietly, and the blonde doesn’t respond. You watch as tears slowly fill his eyes, and your eyebrows furrow. You’ve never seen Joshua cry, not once in the time you’ve known him. Unexpectedly, Joshua’s hand comes out from under the covers and rests over yours, encompassing your cold hand in warmth. 

“I want to be a better person for you.” Joshua mutters, blinking away the tears as he tries to look at anything else in his room. You shake your head, your own heart breaking within your chest at how vulnerable he looks. You swipe away the tears from under his eye, and his eyes flit back to you, watching as a soft smile forms on your face. 

“You… you have always been more than enough, Joshua.” 

The blonde lets out a breath at your response, before his eyes softly fall shut. Your heart is warm within your chest as you let your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, his hand still resting over your own as he tries to fall asleep. 

Your gaze trails over back towards the window, seeing how bright the moon and millions of stars are in the dark sky. 

You may not have reached the moon and the stars like you originally wanted.

You look back towards Joshua, content washing over you when you listen to his steady breathing, seeing that he’s already fast asleep. You remove yours and Joshua’s hand from his cheek, letting it rest onto the mattress. A smile escapes you when you feel his hand tighten softly around yours in his sleep. After a moment, your eyes slowly fall shut with Joshua being the one to keep you warm, hand holding your own as the two of you fall asleep facing each other.

But you’ve reached the sun, and that’s more than enough.

You stare at your medicine, wondering if you should even take it when you don’t have much time left. Shaking your head, you let out an aggravated sigh, taking out the pill and dry-swallowing it. 

You immediately regret dry-swallowing the large pill as you grab your glass of water, taking a large gulp to try and swallow it properly. Letting out a cough, you walk over to your fridge, not even feeling hungry as you stare at the food in it. 

march 18, 2021

It’s been two months. 

Your time is running out.

You’re about to grab a small container of yogurt when you hear your phone go off, and you glance over to see the screen lit up. Closing your fridge door, you walk back over to the counter and pick up your phone, a grin immediately forming on your face when you see that Joshua texted you.

joshushushu: be ready at 8 later, i’ll come pick you up !

you: so you’re the one planning now, huh? 

since when were you coming for my career

joshushushu: you’re just jealous cause i’m better at it

you: take that BACK.

joshushushu: see you at 8 <3

you: JOSHUA

You chuckle, turning off your phone and looking back towards your refrigerator. Letting out a sigh, you walk over and take out the yogurt, grabbing a spoon and dipping into the snack. You quietly eat the yogurt as you walk over to your living room window, staring out at the city. 

The skies are blue, a contrast to the cloudy days Seoul had for the last couple of weeks. Your eyes follow the birds that fly past your window, watching as they get smaller and smaller the farther they go. You let out a sigh, taking another spoonful of yogurt.

“What a beautiful day.” 

“Are you okay?” You turn your head to glance at Joshua, seeing the look of concern on his face as he looks at you. Giving him a smile, you nod your head, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck as you look out the window of the bus.

“I’m okay, just tired.” The feeling of Joshua’s eyes on your side profile remains, and you hope that he doesn’t question it anymore. The blonde simply smiles, patting the top of your head fondly. “You can sleep, yn. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek at his kindness, and nod in response. You rest your head against the window and close your eyes, ignoring the rumbling from the bumpy road. 

A few minutes pass of Joshua scrolling through his phone when he sees your head moving out of the corner of his eye. He looks at you, seeing your head bumping against the window whenever the bus drives over a pothole in the road, somehow still fast asleep.

Joshua reaches out and softly grasps your head, pulling you over so that you’re now resting on his shoulder. He stares at your sleeping face for a moment longer, finding that you look at peace as you sleep. 

“Pretty.” Joshua mutters, before looking out towards the window for the rest of the way.

It’s only half an hour later when you feel a hand gently shaking your shoulder, and Joshua’s soft voice telling you to wake up. Groggily, you open your eyes and sit up in the seat, scratching your head. You turn and look up to find Joshua standing up from the bus seat, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He lets out a giggle at how sleepy you look, “Come on. We’re here.” 

Turning towards the window, you see the Han River glimmering back at you. Raising an eyebrow, you stand up from the seat and look at Joshua, who’s just giving you a close-lipped smile. He extends his hand out towards you, and you stare at it.

After a moment, you reach out, feeling his warm hand encompass your cold one. He grins, giving your hand a squeeze before turning and guiding you off the bus. The two of you walk in silence as he leads you towards the top of a hill, but it soon becomes hard to breathe. 

“J-Joshua.” You wheeze out, and the blonde pauses, turning to see you doubled over. 

“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break here?” You don’t respond, instead trying to catch your breath as you hold onto Joshua’s hand like a lifeline. His eyebrows furrow, and he squats so that he can look into your eyes, watching as you begin to breathe properly again.

“Yn.” 

“Mm?” 

“We gotta work on your endurance.” Joshua jokes, and you let out a laugh, reaching out and slapping his shoulder as you stand up straight. He giggles, feeling relieved that you’ve caught your breath. He gives your hand a squeeze when he gets up from his squatting position, and you look at him. “Ready?” 

You nod your head, squeezing his hand in return, “Ready.” 

Joshua smiles, leading you towards the top of the hill once again. He makes sure to keep glancing back at you and even slows his pace as a means for you to not get exhausted again. 

When the two of you finally reach the top of the hill, he lets go of your hand, and you pout at the loss of warmth. You’re about to ask why he brought you here, only to stop when you see him unzip his bag, pulling out a picnic blanket and laying it onto the cold grass. 

“A picnic? At 9 pm?” You ask, only for Joshua not to respond as he just slips off his shoes and lays down onto the checkered blanket. You smile in amusement, tilting your head as you wonder what he’s doing. 

Joshua lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching out and patting the empty space beside him on the blanket. Pursing your lips, you slowly slip off your sneakers and climb onto the blanket, carefully laying on your back. Your head is turned to him, and you’re about to ask what now? Only for Joshua to gently grasp your chin, turning you away until you look up towards the sky and-

Wow. 

The millions of stars are shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. It was as if someone gathered a handful of sparkles and scattered them across the wide expanse of the dark sky, bringing light to unappreciative eyes. 

Joshua turns his head to see your reaction, and he smiles at the bright look to your eyes, your mouth being dropped open slightly in awe. 

He knew of your fascination with the sky ever since the two of you met on Banpo bridge. From the way your eyes sparkled at the sight of the moonlight reflecting across the river, to the content smile that would make its way onto your face whenever you’d look up towards the moon.

And so, whenever he would finish his evening classes at university, he’d take the bus to different parks and look for the spot that had the best sight of the sky at night.

Joshua wanted you to be able to reach the stars. 

“Do you like it?” You turn towards the pretty blonde, seeing the slight apprehension on his face in fear that you won’t be happy with his surprise for you. You watch as it melts away from the sight of your bright smile, and a breath of relief escapes him. 

“I love it.” 

The two of you turn back towards the sky, pointing at different constellations and talking about which star shines the brightest among the millions you can see. You let out a laugh when Joshua mistakenly points out lights from a plane as a shooting star, and he rolls his eyes, but the fond smile on his face tells you that he’s anything but annoyed. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence afterwards, just appreciating the beautiful sky. You feel warm, even though you’re in this cold weather, you somehow feel warm just by being with Joshua. The bright stars shine down at you, and you slowly raise your arm up to the sky.

Joshua’s eyes follow your hand, watching as it grasps at the air. His gaze trails down to your face, seeing you stare up at the stars with an indecipherable emotion in your eyes. He turns away, and your arm falls back down to your side. 

“What’s something you want to do with me?” Joshua asks, breaking the comfortable silence. You purse your lips, finding the question hard as you wonder how you could even answer this. 

You want to do everything with him.

You want to go to a karaoke place with him, go bowling, go to an amusement park and eat all the festival food. Watch a movie, play in the snow and build a snowman. Go to the beach and make sand castles, go grocery shopping, visit him at work. Go to uni with him, go on a walk, talk about your day, make him kimchi fried rice. Everything. 

You want to do everything with Joshua. 

Letting out a shaky breath, your eyes trail over to the trees down the hill, lined up on the sides of the pathway. You stare at the unbloomed buds, already seeing the beautiful flowers in the back of your mind that you know you won’t be here in time to see.

“Cherry blossoms.” You utter, and the blonde turns to you.

“Hm?”

“I want to see the cherry blossoms with you.” Joshua lets out an, ah, a smile forming on his face at the thought of seeing the beautiful pink flowers with you. He looks back up towards the stars, “Cherry blossoms were always my favorite flower.” 

You listen to Joshua’s soft voice, holding onto every word as you stare down at the unbloomed trees. The blonde lets out a breathless chuckle. “April was my favorite month because that’s when the cherry blossoms would bloom, but I stopped being excited for them a couple years back.” 

Joshua grins, heart growing warm in his chest when he thinks of you spinning around excitedly underneath the cherry blossom trees, the pink petals softly falling around you. 

“But I’m excited to see them with you, yn.” 

Your heart wavers in your chest at Joshua’s sweet words, and you clench your fist at your side. Tears fill your eyes as you look away from the unbloomed cherry blossom trees, gaze trailing back up towards the stars. A tear escapes your left eye as you choke out, 

“I’m excited to see them with you too, Joshua.” 

Laying in bed, you stare up at the ceiling tiredly, having lost almost all your energy a week ago. You roll over and look at your phone, watching as the screen lights up.

march 23, 2021

You let out a shaky breath, knowing that you should admit yourself to the hospital within a few days. However,

You open up your messaging app, tapping on your conversation with Joshua.

you: joshuaaa 

be ready at 2 ! i prepared a fun day for us :)

joshushushu: does it involve you paying for our meal? 

you: capitalism is the root of all evil.

but yes. yes it does.

joshushushu: okay epic, i’m in.

i’ll see you later ^^

you: see you <3

Turning off your phone, you take in a deep breath, before slowly climbing out of bed. The exhaustion weighs over you like a blanket, but you push yourself to make it to the bathroom to shower.

You need to get ready to spend one last day with Joshua.

Sitting on the bench at the bus stop, you stare down at your sneakers as you wait for the pretty blonde to show up. It took you a while to get to the bus stop, as you felt even more exhausted by the time you stepped out of your apartment complex. You took your medicine and attempted to eat some food, but to no avail. 

The sunlight that was once shining down onto you suddenly disappears as you were thinking to yourself, and you look up to see Joshua grinning down at you. 

“What did you plan for today? Grocery shopping?” He asks, and you roll your eyes, standing up when you notice the bus heading your way. Nudging his shoulder, you answer, “No, something better than restocking my food and cleaning supplies.” 

Joshua lets out a mock gasp, making you giggle as the two of you climb onto the bus. You sit down in the window seat, the pretty man following soon after and continuing what he was saying. 

“Better than following you around the grocery store while pushing a cart for an hour? No such thing.” You laugh, slapping his leg and shaking your head at him. He grins, reaching up and patting the top of your head fondly. 

“I’m kidding. Doing anything with you brightens my day either way.” Joshua confesses, and you freeze slightly, before regaining your composure. Giving him a tight smile, you turn and glance out the window, watching as the world passes by. Cars filled with people going to wherever it is they’re going, people waiting on the crosswalks to cross the street, children screaming and playing on the playgrounds.

The world is roaring with life. 

“I’m happy for them.” You whisper, before closing your eyes. 

“Yn, you shouldn’t have.” Joshua says when you lead him towards the entrance of a dog café. You grin, shrugging your shoulders as you muster enough strength to pull open the door. “You’re a dog person. I am simply returning the favor.” 

The blonde chuckles, stepping into the café with you following after him. You reach up and hold your bicep, lightly rubbing the area as it feels a bit strained. Your arm immediately falls back to your side when Joshua stops and turns to glance at you, wondering why you’re behind him. 

He lets out a fond smile, reaching his hand out towards you. “Come on, let’s go see the dogs.” 

Your eyes slowly trail down to his hand, warm and inviting. A stark contrast to what yours have become, cold and lonely. You look back up at Joshua’s face, seeing him tilt his head at you, waiting for you to grasp his hand. 

He watches as an indecipherable emotion passes your eyes, before you let out a smile and walk up to him, intertwining your fingers with his. He grins, and the two of you walk further into the café, only to be greeted by a golden retriever. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at the beautiful dog, and you’re about to bend down to pet it—only to stop once the sound of Joshua’s happy laugh rings in your ears. You turn to look at him, finding him patting the dog’s head with a bright smile on his face. 

“Come on puppy, yn and I have to go order our food.” Joshua says softly, before leading you towards the register. You let out a happy squeal when you see all the other dogs roaming around the tables, feeling excited to play with all of them. 

You and Joshua tell the employee what you’d both like to order as a few dogs come to stand beside the two of you. When you’re told the price, you reach into your bag with your free hand to pull out your wallet, only for your mouth to drop open when you see Joshua already handing the employee his card. 

“Joshua! I wanted to pay for us.” You whine, and he simply squeezes your hand with an accomplished grin on his face. He thanks the employee once he’s handed back his card along with the receipt, before turning to face you. 

“You’re just too slow~” Joshua teases, and you squint. You open your mouth to start complaining more, only to pause when you hear the employee’s voice ring out. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but if you’d like, we have a photobooth that you both could go take pictures in.” They tell you with a shy smile, pointing towards the back of the café where the photobooth is, and your eyes brighten at the idea. 

“Thank you so much!” You say, before pulling Joshua in the direction of the photobooth, your free hand already holding your wallet so that you can pay for it. 

“Yn-” You immediately shove your card into the reader when the two of you step into the small box, closing the black curtain. The blonde chuckles at your determination, and you smile as you pull out your card once the payment is accepted.

“How should we pose?” Joshua asks, and you shrug as you watch the timer start to count down. 

“You just gotta feel it.” 

“That’s not helpful at all.” 

“Just follow my lead.” You say with a laugh, and he grins in amusement, turning back towards the screen. The two of you lean your heads closer to each other, and you wink while Joshua simply smiles as the first photo is captured. 

This continues for the next three photos, with the two of you laughing and doing different poses for the photostrip. You both climb out of the small box, waiting for the two photostrips to be printed as you talk about how silly you each must look.

“Ah, they’re printed.” You say once the two photostrips fall out, and you grab them both. You hand one to Joshua, and you hear him let out a small giggle. 

You stare at the photostrip quietly, gauging the photos. Warmth floods your chest at the third panel in particular, and you let out a breath.

This was when the two of you missed the countdown as you were both facing each other and laughing. Joshua’s eyes are bright and filled with warmth, a smile on his face as he looks at you in the photo. Then there’s you, mid-laugh, nothing but joy over your features.

“Wow.” You breathe out, and Joshua chuckles at your reaction, nudging you with his shoulder. You blink, looking away from the photostrip and redirecting your attention towards the blonde. “Mm?”

He points towards the table in the corner, where quite a few dogs are resting around. “Let’s go sit there.” 

You bite back a laugh, knowing exactly why he wants to sit at that exact spot. Nodding your head, you grin when you see his features brighten, and the two of you walk towards the table. The dogs perk up at your guys’ arrival, almost all of them going around Joshua as the two of you sit across from each other.

“So cute!” Joshua exclaims, a big smile on his face when the golden retriever from earlier rests its paws on Joshua’s chair, licking his face excitedly. The corners of your lips quirk up, and you take out your phone, opening the camera app. 

You watch as Joshua grins, petting the golden retriever to try and calm them down as they continue to attempt to lick his face. Tilting your head, you take the photo right as Joshua breaks out into laughter. 

You lower the phone from your face when Joshua turns towards you from the sound of the camera shutter, and he lets out a grin when his gaze trails over to your left hand side.

“So busy ogling me that you didn’t even notice the cute puppy waiting for your attention.” Your eyebrows furrow at Joshua’s sentence, and you turn your head to the left, expecting nothing, only for your eyes to widen when you see the precious corgi sitting beside you in the booth, tail wagging as they stare at you. 

“Oh my God. Hi baby!” You coo, reaching out and finally giving the attention the corgi had been wanting from you. The corgi licks your wrist, and you giggle, petting their back as you turn to shoot a glare towards the blonde. He raises an eyebrow at the squint to your eyes, and he tilts his head in question.

“I was not ogling you!” You exclaim, and Joshua lets out an angelic laugh that makes your heart do a somersault within your chest. A sheepish smile forms on your face, destroying the “angry” persona you were trying to put on.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.”

“Joshua!” You laugh, and he laughs along with you. 

Your guys’ laughter rings throughout the café for the rest of the afternoon, pure happiness exuding from the two of you.

“Oh sikhye, how you never fail me.” You say lovingly to the drink in your hand. Joshua simply chuckles at your antics, taking a sip of his own sikhye as the two of you walk on the sidewalk towards the bridge. 

“Thank you for taking me to the dog café, I had a lot of fun.” Joshua tells you, and you nod your head, a smile forming on your face when you remember how many dogs had been around your table. 

“You’re like a dog magnet, while I’m a cat magnet.” You point out, and the blonde purses his lips in thought, before nodding his head in agreement. “That makes sense.” 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you make your way onto the bridge, the sounds of the cars driving past you both filling the quiet.

“I feel like you could be a catboy, though.” Joshua accidentally snorts his sikhye at your abrupt comment, and you burst out into laughter as he doubles over, coughing up the drink. Patting his back, you wait for him to calm down as he slowly stands back up to his full height, taking deep breaths. 

“A catboy?”

“I cannot believe me calling you a catboy made you snort your drink.” You say, the corners of your mouth twitching as you try to hold back from smiling. The blonde catches this though, and he reaches out and pinches your cheek. 

“Hey!” 

Joshua smiles at your reaction, feeling satisfied that he got his payback after you made him snort his rice drink. He’s about to ask why you think he’s a catboy when he notices you walking up to the railing of the bridge.

You rest your hand onto the cold railing, staring out at the sight laid before you. The skies are painted in various shades of pink, blue, and purple. The sun is setting in the distance, the dark orange reflecting off the Han River, making the water glimmer. 

“It’s…”

“Beautiful.” Joshua finishes, and you turn to him, seeing the sparkle to his eyes as he stares at the scenery. You’re reminded of the cold January night where you met him over two months ago. 

His eye bags are practically gone and the hunch to his shoulders are now replaced with confidence. His features are glowing, looking healthy in comparison to before, but it’s his eyes that have changed the most. His eyes no longer appear exhausted as he turns to look at you, now replaced with something along the lines of content.

“We met on this bridge over two months ago.” You state, and Joshua doesn’t respond. He looks back out towards the water, resting his forearms onto the railing as the thought of that night comes to mind. You follow suit, taking a sip of your sikhye as the two of you stare at the scenery in silence, the memories the two of you made over the last two months playing in your head. 

“You know when I said I couldn’t see life as something beautiful? And that it wasn’t kind to me?” Joshua asks after a moment, and you nod your head, the memory fresh in your mind.

He lets out a breath, “Two months ago, life was so hard for me that I couldn’t even think of trying anymore. So I didn’t understand what you meant when you said that life was beautiful.” 

Your hand squeezes the railing, but you don’t turn to look at Joshua. You know that he wouldn’t want you to look at him as he addresses what he didn’t want to even mention for the last two months. 

Joshua glances at you, the sunset no longer capturing his attention. A small smile escapes him as he stares at you, heart warm within his chest. 

“I understand what you mean now.” You turn to look at him, immediately locking eyes with the ethereal man. The small smile on his face turns into a full one when he stares into your bright eyes, feeling happy just by being with you. 

Joshua turns away, looking back out towards the sunset. Your heart swells with warmth and heartbreak when you hear him say,

“Life is beautiful.” 

You don’t respond right away as you struggle to hold back the tears from escaping. Your eyes remain on the scenery laid before you, doing your best to control your breathing as you watch the sun set below the city. 

Letting out a breath, you feel Joshua turn to look at you with his soft eyes. 

Joshua’s happy, so you’re happy. 

You turn your body towards Joshua and give him a tight smile as you raise your arms into the air. The blonde grins, reaching out and taking the sikhye from your hand when he notices some of its contents spill onto the pavement from your gesture. You giggle at your clumsiness, and he just shakes his head. 

“What would you do without me?” Joshua asks with a smile, and you shrug your shoulders, turning and beginning to walk in the direction of the bus stop. He tilts his head at you, and he watches as you turn and glance at him with a smile. 

“I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now!” You answer, turning away before you get the chance to see Joshua’s reaction. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you swing your arms as you walk, suddenly wishing you had your sikhye in your hand. 

The sound of running footsteps makes you glance back, only to let out a loud laugh when Joshua’s arm suddenly wraps around your shoulders, the sound of his giggles ringing in your ear. He holds out the drink in your direction, and you grin, taking it from his grasp.

As you take a sip of the sweet rice drink, you let out a sigh. You take a peek at Joshua, finding the hint of a smile on his face as he drinks his own beverage in his other hand. He notices your eyes on him, and he looks at you, a warm expression forming on his face. He leans in and gently nudges your head with his, before turning back towards the front. 

It’s as if all the sadness, anger, and pain melts away from the fond gesture. A shy smile breaks out onto your face as you turn away, letting out a sigh of content.

“Ah, what a beautiful day.”

Joshua glances down at his phone while he waits in the elevator as it goes up to the eighth floor, the floor in which your apartment resides.

april 6, 2021

You haven’t contacted Joshua since the day the two of you went to the dog café, let alone open his texts. He’s been texting you everyday and even calling you to try and get a response, but to no avail.

So he finally decided to go visit your apartment to check in on you and ask what happened. 

As the elevator doors open, Joshua steps out and walks down the hallway. Once he turns left to enter the other hall, his eyebrows furrow when he notices the man standing in front of your door. He walks up to the man, who glances up towards the blonde when he catches sight of him through the corner of his eye.

“Do you know yn?” Joshua asks once he’s a few feet away from the older man. The gentleman nods, holding up his ID card, “I’m their landlord.” 

Joshua almost lets out a breath of relief, finally having met someone who could possibly know where you’ve been. The blonde points towards your apartment door, “Yn hasn’t contacted me in like, two weeks. Do you know if they’re home or if they went somewhere-”

“You don’t know?” Your landlord asks, and Joshua pauses. A feeling of dread runs down his spine when he sees the look of pity appear in the older man’s eyes when Joshua shakes his head, no. 

The dread soon turns into regret when the landlord informs him of the information he hadn’t known for the last three months.

“Are you comfortable?” The nurse asks as she replaces your tube. You give her a weak smile, glancing out the window and staring at the birds flying past it as you answer, “As comfortable as I can be.”

Once the nurse finishes cleaning you up, she bows in your direction and steps out of the room. You let out a breath, eyes trailing down to your phone. You press your finger to the screen, and the photo of Joshua that you took at the dog café shines back at you. 

A soft smile escapes you when you see how brightly he’s laughing, the sound of his joyful laughs still ringing in your ear as if he was here with you. The brief moment of happiness you feel turns into one of guilt when you’re reminded of all the messages, missed calls, and voicemails he’s left you for the last two weeks. 

It’s for the best, you remind yourself. You want him to be happy, and knowing that you’re on your literal deathbed would take that away from him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek once you feel the tears rise to your eyes, and you let out an annoyed huff. In an attempt to make the wetness to your eyes disappear, you move to stare up at the ceiling, only to freeze when your gaze lands on the doorway. 

“Joshua?” 

The blonde is standing there, chest rising and falling as he stares at you, pain evident in his gaze. His eyes trail over your appearance, wondering how he didn’t see the signs from the beginning. From the times you told him you were having trouble sleeping, the loss of appetite, how easily exhausted you would become from simply laughing too hard in the recent weeks.

How could he not know? 

“Yn.” Joshua breathes out, walking over to your bedside and sitting down in the chair. Feeling the tears flood your eyes, you look away from him, staring down at your hands in shame. 

“How did you find out?” You ask in a quiet voice, knowing he’s going to hate you for not telling him. When you don’t hear his response, the tears escape your eyes, falling onto the hospital blanket. 

“I’m so sorry Joshua.”

“I’m so selfish.” Your eyes widen slightly, and you look up from the blanket, only for your heart to break within your chest when you see the tears falling past Joshua’s eyes. 

“I-I hated my life and I openly complained about it in front of you, but you were going through so much worse and you still saw the beauty in it.” Joshua mutters, his hands reaching up towards his face as he tries to wipe away his tears. “I’m so sorry, yn.” You feel a sob bubble up in your chest, and you shake your head at him. 

“Don’t compare your struggles and pain to mine. Your struggles and your pain are valid. You have nothing to apologize for.” You tell him, vision becoming blurry as you reach out towards him with your hand. Joshua bites his bottom lip, before grasping your cold hand with his warm one. 

“It’s not fair.” Joshua mutters, and you blink at him. His hand tightens gently around yours, and he looks up into your beautiful eyes that hold so much life in them.

The life you deserve to live.

“I-It’s not fair. You of all people deserve to live your life.” Joshua says, the anger and sadness heavy in his voice. You let out a small smile, squeezing his hand with as much energy you can muster. “Sometimes life isn’t fair.”

Joshua just scoffs at your positivity and you let out a weak giggle. His eyes soften from the sight of your smile, and he reaches out with his free hand, wiping away your tears with his thumb. You lean into the touch, and Joshua feels his heart stutter in his chest. 

“Can you stay with me?” You ask, looking up into his deerlike eyes. Warmth floods the blonde’s face at how ethereal you are, feeling content when he still sees the sparkle in your eyes. 

“Yeah, always.”

Joshua slips off of his shoes and scoots you over on the hospital bed. He climbs onto it and lays onto his back beside you. You rest your head onto his arm, turning onto your side so that you’re facing him, and close your eyes at the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours. 

“Thank you.” You mutter sleepily, and Joshua raises an eyebrow. 

“For what?” 

The memories of the last three months rewind in your head like a cassette tape, all the joy, laughter, sadness. All of it. 

“For making my last three months worthwhile.” 

Joshua sucks in a breath at your words, and he clenches his fist at his side. He’s filled with anger, sadness, so many different emotions as he turns his body to face you. He finds that you’re already fast asleep, small puffs of air leaving your lips, a reminder that you’re here. 

You’re alive.

Holding back the tears from rising, Joshua closes his eyes and gently rests his forehead onto yours. He feels your breath hit his lips, and he finds that it’s the only thing that calms him down as he feels a wave of drowsiness hit him.

He soon falls asleep with the thought of you turning to face him on the bridge two weeks ago, with the bright smile on your face that he’s grown to love.

“Can I please take yn out of the hospital? They’re right at the entrance. It’s not like I’m taking yn to an amusement park.” 

“No, Joshua.” 

“But Dr. Park, please.” Joshua practically begs, following after your doctor as he tries to walk back to his office. The man doesn’t even spare the blonde another glance, already set on his answer. 

It’s been a week since Joshua discovered the truth of your illness, and he’s visited every single day. Even if he had classes or a shift at work, he’d immediately take the bus to the hospital right after to come and see you.

He knows your time is soon from how frail you’ve become, the exhaustion and pain evident on your face no matter how hard you try to hide it behind the smile you show him. 

That’s why he’s desperate for Dr. Park to say yes.

“I’ll even have the nurse accompany us! Please, it won’t take long.” Joshua calls out, and he watches as Dr. Park’s shoulders slump as he lets out a sigh. The older man turns to glance at him, “Joshua…”

“Please, Dr. Park. Yn—” Joshua looks down at his shoes, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tries to muster up the courage to say the next words. “Yn doesn’t have much time left.” 

Dr. Park stares at the blonde, knowing very well that your time is drawing near. He looks to his side, remembering what he told you the day you found out about your tragic fate. 

“Eat whatever you want, do things you’ve always wanted to do. Live your life, yn.” 

Dr. Park lets out a sigh, before turning back towards Joshua, who’s still staring down at the floor. He purses his lips, “Fine. You can take yn, but not for long. I’ll have their nurse accompany you.” 

Joshua immediately lifts up his head, eyes bright as he nods his head frantically. He blurts out multiple thank yous, even bowing at least ten times before he heads back to your hospital room. 

Dr. Park just lets out a sad smile as he watches the blonde disappear past the corner. Shaking his head, he glances down at his clipboard and heads towards his next patient. 

You lay in the hospital bed, struggling to keep your eyes open as you wait for Joshua. Your gaze is glued towards the doorway, wondering when you’ll see those pretty deerlike eyes of his. Your eyelids feel heavy, and you feel sleep beginning to pull you in. 

“Yn!” Your eyes slowly open at the angelic voice, and you find Joshua walking up to your hospital bed with an excited smile on his face. The corners of your lips tug upward, “Joshua, you look excited.”

“I have a surprise for you.” Your eyebrows furrow in suspicion, and he lets out a laugh. A sudden figure at your doorway catches your attention, and Joshua steps to the side so that you can see. You squint when you see your nurse standing there, a wheelchair in front of her as she gives you a smile. 

“What are you planning?” You ask, eyes going back to the blonde. He shrugs his shoulders, reaching out and grasping your cold hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“You’ll see.”

It takes about twenty minutes until you’re finally in the wheelchair, as you’re no longer able to walk on your own. It was hard, since Joshua had to help your nurse by carrying you and placing you into the seat. You kept apologizing for being a bother, but Joshua would always reply, 

“You could never be a bother, yn.”

And now you’re being pushed through the halls. With your nurse holding onto the IV pole while Joshua pushes you. You can’t help but feel a bit of excitement run through your veins as the three of you slowly make your way out of the hospital, no matter how exhausted you are.

“What’s the surprise? Did you buy me a sikhye truck?” 

“You think I’m rich?” Joshua counters, and you smile at his response. It’s when you’re closer to the automatic doors that you begin to feel your heartbeat faster, ecstatic to be able to smell the fresh air. 

“Are you ready?” Joshua asks, leaning over to peek at your face. You let out a shaky breath, before nodding your head and giving him a thumbs up. “Of course.” 

The blonde smiles, and starts pushing you towards the exit again, watching as the automatic doors open for the three of you. The sunlight shines down on you once you’re outside, and you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, blinking your eyes to get used to the sudden light.

Once your eyes open again, you find Joshua standing before you, arms stretched up towards the sky. A pose that you always did when the two of you were together. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when a sudden flash of pink flies past your face. You turn your head, eyes following after it until it falls onto the ground next to dozens of others.

A cherry blossom petal. 

You slowly look back towards Joshua, seeing the warm smile on his face as he stares at you. Your eyes trail upwards, and you let out a breath when you see the fully bloomed cherry blossom trees above you. The brilliant shades of pink and white are hanging above you, and you feel your heart swell. 

A breeze blows past the trees, and you watch as the petals begin to fall around you and Joshua. The beautiful and delicate petals gently flow with the wind, as if they were pink snowflakes fluttering past you.

Opening up the palm of your hand, you watch as a precious petal falls directly into the middle of it. You let out a wet laugh, tears trailing down your cheeks as you look back up towards Joshua. He’s smiling back at you, eyes filled with tears of his own as the two of you stare at each other. 

“I saw the cherry blossoms with you.” You say softly, and Joshua nods his head, a heartbreaking smile on his face. Biting your bottom lip, you close your fingers around the precious petal in your hand, blinking away the tears that keep flooding your eyes.

“Thank you, Joshua.” You mutter, and the blonde simply lets out a sigh, turning so that he’s facing the cherry blossom tree. You look up towards him, seeing the small smile on his face as he glances back at you. 

“Consider it a gift, yn.”

You lay on your hospital bed, listening to Joshua tell you about the lecture he attended today. Your heart warms when you hear him let out a giggle when mentioning something his classmate said, and a small smile escapes you. 

It’s been a few hours since you were brought back inside from seeing the cherry blossom trees, and Joshua’s stayed by your side the whole time. He didn’t even leave when you took a nap, just staying in the chair beside your bed doing his homework as he waited for you to wake up. 

You know that your time is almost over as you feel your heartbeat slow while listening to Joshua, finding yourself growing more sleepy. Somehow, rather than being afraid, you feel content. 

You’re happy.

You can see that Joshua knows it too, as he keeps talking to you about anything and everything, when you’d usually be the one to fill the silence. 

“And that’s how—”

“Joshua?” The blonde looks up at the sound of your voice immediately, and his heart falls when he sees the smile on your face. 

It’s different from all the ones before. It’s not bright, teasing, exciting, no. 

It’s accepting.

“Y-Yeah?” Joshua asks, and you extend your hand towards him. He reaches out and grasps it, your hand fitting perfectly within his own. 

“What’s the most beautiful thing about life?” You ask in a soft voice, staring into those deerlike eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the world. 

You want to remember it.

You want to remember him.

Joshua bites the inside of his cheek at your question, looking down at your connected hands as he tries to think of his answer. You watch as his eyebrows furrow in thought, and you grin in amusement at how hard he’s thinking.

The thought of the arcade comes to mind, as the neon purple lights shone on your face as you turned to look at him with a bright smile.

The sunset, when you spun around with your arms in the air and danced along the grass as he took photos of you. 

Going grocery shopping, when you were telling him a story with the softest of smiles on your face. Your eyes twinkled underneath the horrible fluorescent lights, and he wondered how you could possibly look so ethereal even with the bad lighting.

Your strawberry pajamas that you love so much.

Visiting the cat café, where your smile was the brightest and you were practically glowing from all the attention from the cats.

When it rained and you were laughing and spinning around as you let the raindrops fall onto you. Not a care in the world as you smiled brightly and extended your hand out towards him.

Going stargazing, except when he turned his head and looked into your eyes — he realized that you shined brighter than the millions of stars in the sky.

Joshua looks back towards you, seeing you waiting expectantly. His eyes trail over your features, from your beautiful eyes to your pretty lips that always hold a smile. He squeezes your hand softly as he finally answers,

“You.”

You blink at his answer, before a small smile breaks out onto your face. Looking away, you notice the full moon out the window, with the millions of stars surrounding it on this clear night. You let out a breath, feeling like they’re closer tonight. 

“What about you? What’s the most beautiful thing about life?” Joshua asks, and he watches as your head slowly turns back towards him. You give him a grin and squeeze his hand with as much energy as you can muster, finding yourself getting lost in his bright eyes. 

“You. The most beautiful thing about life is you, Joshua.” 

Joshua smiles, but his heart hurts as his eyes pan to your vital signs monitor, seeing that your heart rate is slowing. He looks back at you, and he sucks in a deep breath when only one thought comes to mind. 

There’s still so many things he wants to tell you, so many things he wants to do with you. However, as he stares into your eyes, he realizes there’s only one last thing you need to know.

“Yn?” 

“Yeah, Joshua?” You respond, now struggling to keep your eyes open as you stare at him. 

“I love you.” 

You and Joshua stare at each other in silence for a moment, having finally aired out the truth that the two of you have kept hidden for the last three months. The truth that the both of you kept denying, for fear of the future. A bright smile forms on your face, and Joshua feels his heart stutter within his chest at the sight. 

“I love you too, Joshua.” 

He lets out a breath, swallowing the lump in his throat to try and appear strong for you. As Joshua stares at you, he realizes just how beautiful you are. Even though you’re frail and tired, your beauty is unmatched as he looks into your eyes. 

And so, Joshua smiles back at you, and you feel warmth flood your body at the beauty of it.

You hope to remember his smile even in your next life.

Joshua hears your monitor begin to beep, signalling that your heart rate is dropping. He doesn’t look away from you, holding the eye contact between the two of you as your eyes slowly fall shut. The grip you had on his hand loosens, and he continues to stare at you as your nurse comes in once the sound of the flatline rings throughout the room. 

Joshua stands up from the chair, heart thumping against his chest once your nurse turns off your monitor. 

“Time of death: Tuesday, April 13th. At 8:13 PM.”

Silence fills the room as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple, before pulling away and falling back into the chair. The smile that he showed you is now gone as he bites his bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall as he stares at you, the smallest of smiles still remaining on your face.

Joshua looks down as a few tears escape, and he slowly rests his forehead onto your guys’ connected hands, sobs finally wracking through his body as he holds onto you. 

The moon and the stars shine down onto the two of you through the hospital window. They illuminate the room as Joshua sobs against your hand, knowing that you were finally able to reach them. 

You were finally able to reach the moon and the stars.

april 13, 2022

Joshua looks away from the calendar on the wall once he’s handed the bouquet of bright sunflowers. He smiles at the employee, giving them his thanks before he turns around and walks out of the store. 

The sun shines down on him as he walks towards the columbarium, making his black hair appear a light brown underneath the light. 

The sound of the birds chirping rings through his ears, and he smiles softly as he steps in through the entrance. He walks through the hall, before he finally stops, looking up and seeing your bright smile shining back at him.

Joshua lets out a grin at the sight, placing your sunflowers into the mini slot that holds the bouquets. A breath escapes him as he stares at the photos in your display, all of the photos capturing your beautiful smile. His eyes land on the last one, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

It’s the photostrip of the two of you from the day you both went to the dog café. 

Joshua has the same photostrip on the back of his phone case, as a reminder of a beautiful day. 

“Did you miss me?” Joshua asks you, knowing that he won’t receive a response. He smiles softly, looking down at his shoes. 

“It’s been a year without you, and I still think of your bright smile everyday.” Joshua tells you, placing his hands into his pockets as he continues to stare at the floor. “I know you’re getting a kick out of hearing me say that, huh?” 

Joshua stands there before you in silence for a moment, holding back the tears that threaten to flood his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, before looking back up towards you with a smile and begins to update you on everything that’s happened since he last visited.

From the new job he got at an early learning center as a teacher, to the cat he visits at the shelter that reminds him of you, to his new friend Jeonghan who’s more mischievous than you could imagine, to the fried rice he made in the morning.

He tells you anything and everything until he can no longer think of anything else to say. Joshua lowers his head, wishing that he could hear a response. 

“I miss you.” He mutters, the thought of your smile and contagious laugh coming to mind. There’s a dull ache in his heart that has remained since you passed, and he knows it will be there for a long time. 

But as he lifts up his head to look at you and sees the photo of the both of you laughing, he knows he’ll be okay. You want him to be happy.

Joshua sucks in a deep breath, before reaching up and resting his hand over the glass. 

“Thank you, yn. Thank you for teaching me how to live.” 

Joshua gives you a genuine smile, before taking a step back from your locker. 

“I’ll continue to live happily, so don’t worry about me. I’ll visit you again soon...” Joshua chuckles as he trails off, looking away as warmth floods his face at the thought of the next thing he wants to tell you. He lets out a breath, before smiling at you as he says,

“I love you.” 

And with that, Joshua turns around and walks away with a lighter heart. He steps out of the columbarium and walks down the street, the thought of your smile and the sound of your laugh lingering in his mind. 

He walks with his head down, hands in his pockets as he heads to the bus stop. It’s only when a pink petal floats past him that he pauses and finally looks up from the ground. 

The fully bloomed cherry blossoms are a few feet from him, planted on the grass near the sidewalk, painting the pavement pink. He watches as a breeze blows past him, making hundreds of cherry blossom petals gently fall from the trees. 

Joshua lets out a small smile at the sight, before looking up towards the blue sky. A content sigh escapes him as he watches a pretty white cloud float past him. 

“What a beautiful day.”