#the one on the side of the drier eye is still a little puffy but the other one isn't at all

[msburgundy]

my eyes feel so much better it's insane

[shiningstarr15]

i have a cold right now and feel like garbage, so could you write a fic where yelena is sick and being a little bit of a baby about it, so natasha takes care of her and gives her lots of cuddles? thank you so much!

Hi there! So sorry to hear you’re not feeling well 💔 Thanks so much for the request. I had a lot of fun writing this one and just love giving all the attention and affection that Yelena deserves 🥺 so much so that I just keep writing and sometimes end up with stories way longer than I anticipated. I hope you don’t mind though 😅

I hope you enjoy and feel better really soon. Hugs! 🥺💞

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Word count: 4,728

The first thing Natasha notices when she wakes up is the feeling of the very subtle rumbling.

Natasha slowly opens her eyes as her eyebrow furrows. She placed a hand on her stomach still tucked inside the comforters to feel if maybe she had made that vibration. Nothing.

A quick microsecond of terror flashes as she briefly pondered the possibility that the safe house was..not so safe. She bolted upright and placed a hand on the wall, feeling for any rumbles or vibrating to indicate something really wrong. To her relief, she felt nothing.

That still begged the question of where that feeling was coming from.

As she went to sit back down on the bed, the rumbling suddenly picked up slightly on intensity. She cocked her head a bit to the right of her and her eyes fell upon the massive lump. And that’s when she noticed it.

The comforter was slightly shaking, giving way to occasional jolts. The only thing visible sticking out of it were tufts of familiar blonde hair.

Natasha started to worry slightly. It was a known fact that Yelena was known to have frequent nightmares. However, this would usually result in Yelena thrashing sporadically in the blankets and kicking profusely.

Natasha should know, she had the bruises to prove it.

But the sight she was met with didn’t look like that. Rather than kicking and throwing the blanket off, Yelena had it up all the way to her neck and was practically cocooned inside it. Natasha got up on her side of the bed and slowly padded over to Yelena’s. She crouched down to where she knew her face would be sticking out.

Yelena appeared to still be asleep, but now Natasha could also hear the barest hints of teeth chattering. So she knew now that it wasn’t from a nightmare, but rather being cold.

However, this didn’t worry her quite as much as when she managed to get a better look at her face.

Natasha noticed that Yelena looked way more pale than usual. Her eyes looked puffy, her nose was tinted a slight pink, and her lips looked drier and more cracked. Natasha also noticed that Yelena was doing her best to cover as much skin as possible, given that the blanket was also covering her ears. She took the blanket and lowered it a bit and noticed her ears also had a slight pink tint to them.

The sudden movement of exposing her ear out caused Yelena to start to stir. The teeth chattering quieted a bit as Yelena stuck a hand out from under the covers barely to wipe her eye. As she slowly opened them, she was met with emerald-like greens staring back at her. Rather than getting startled by it like she normally would, she just lay there with a cute dopey grin plastered on her face.

“Mm morning sestra” Yelena mumbled out. Natasha would normally find the sentiment endearing and savor the moment of Yelena being sweet and not mischievous. But right now, she was way more concerned with Yelena’s state as being the culprit to this niceness.

Natasha’s eyes softened a bit as she reached to brush a strand of hair out of Yelena’s face. Her hand jolted a bit when she felt Yelena’s cheek. Yelena was too out of it to notice the sudden movement, thankfully.

“Morning, sestrichka” Natasha leaned her face in and planted a kiss onto her sister’s forehead. She felt as Yelena leaned into the touch and let out a very soft moan of satisfaction.

However, as Natasha pulled away she had a look of concern on her face.

“Yelena, you’re burning up.”

Yelena crinkled her face in confusion, but there was nothing but sincere worry behind her sister’s eyes.

“No way, I’ve been freezing my ass off since earlier this morning,” Yelena responded back. Natasha took in the sound of her voice a lot better now and noticed that she sounded more raspy than usual as well.

“You have a fever.”

Yelena wrinkled her nose a bit. Her golden green eyes looking more bloodshot than if she were just sleep deprived.

“Bah, I don’t get sick, I’m made of ma..mar..” Yelena started to stray off as her face contorted, Natasha’s eyes widened a bit as she went to duck down from being right in her face.

Luckily though, Yelena managed to cover her face with the blanket before she sprayed everywhere anyway.

“Achoo! Marble.” Yelena sniffled after, noting how clogged her nostrils felt. She hated the feeling.

Natasha came back up to her face, noticing how red her nose really looked now, she raised an eyebrow at her. Yelena just casted her gaze downward.

“Ok, maybe I’m a little sick.”

“No shit.”

Yelena slightly pouted. She hated being sick. Even as a child she hated the feeling of being all stuffed up and having to constantly blow her nose. It became even worse after being sent to the Red Room though. Anytime she got sick she had to just suck it up. If anyone caught her slacking just because she wasn’t feeling good there’s a good chance she would’ve been disposed of. So she mustered all her strength and powered through. Nobody understood why on some occasions the normal training regimens would suddenly make her throw up, but they didn’t question it, nor did they really care.

But now she was out, and everything that she had taught herself for survival was slowly but surely dissipating. However, having to go through those tactics for so long definitely had an impact on her, and it was rather difficult to unlearn them, especially in such a short time. Natasha had the same struggles when she got out and defected, but she’s had much more time to unlearn those tactics. She had Clint to thank mostly for that.

But Yelena had just gotten out, after being there for over 20 years, and Natasha knew that it was going to take time for her to unlearn what she was taught. She would be there every step of the way though.

But right now, she was just being stubborn.

Natasha started to get up and Yelena flashed her a quick look of panic as she disappeared from her view.

“Where are you going?” She whined a little. Natasha simply walked over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the top of the covers.

“You need to break that fever so you should probably lose some layers.” Natasha states. Before Yelena can react, she feels the covers being swiftly yanked off of her. Natasha took the covers in her hands, quickly balling them up and disposing of them onto the floor out of Yelena’s reach.

Yelena’s eyes widen as she starts to curl in on herself, feeling the chill tenfold as more of her skin was exposed. Natasha felt bad watching as her little sister was clearly in distress, but she knew she had to in order for her to break that fever faster.

Yelena’s teeth start to chatter again as she moved to cross her arms over her body and bend her legs up toward her chest, trying to preserve as much body heat as she could manage.

As Natasha moved back over to the side of the bed she noticed the clothes that Yelena was wearing. She slightly smirked a bit at the sight.

“Is that my hoodie?”

Yelena looked up from her curled up ball position to see her sister smirking a little with her arms crossed and a slightly bemused look on her face.

“I told you I got cold.” She deadpanned as Natasha noticed her also wearing a pair of sweats, two articles of clothing that she never slept in because she would normally get too hot.

That told her everything she needed to know.

Natasha let out a sigh as she went over to sit down next to her sister on the other side of the bed. She placed a hand on her shivering sister and started rubbing her back very gently. Yelena’s shivering started to calm a little at her big sister’s healing touch.

“Sweetie, you should probably lose the hoodie too.”

Yelena’s eyes widened as she quickly flipped over to face her sister, who had a look of guilt on her face. She gave her the biggest puppy eyes and pout that Natasha had seen on her thus far.

“Please let me keep it, I’m really cold Tashka.” She begged her sister in the tiniest voice she could muster. Natasha’s heart cracked a bit at the total vulnerability, but she swallowed it down, knowing that she needed to do this in order to help her sister.

Natasha sighed in defeat as she sat up off the bed and walked toward the door, opening it and stepping out of the bedroom. Yelena sat up and watched as she exited. She was suddenly starting to feel the extent of how sick she truly was. Her entire body was wracked with aches, her head felt like a boulder had smashed into it a dozen times, and her face felt like someone was squeezing it so hard that it could pop. All of that on top of the chills.

Bottom line, she felt like total shit.

Yelena pulled her hands all the way into the sleeves of the hoodie as she sat crisscrossed on the bed, waiting for her sister to return.

Natasha returned a few minutes later with a washcloth and a bag of ice, she looked over at Yelena with pitiful eyes, taking in the horrible state her baby sister was in. Yelena’s eyes fell onto the bag of ice in her sister’s hand. She kept her eyes on her sister as she made her way over to her side, wrapping the bag of ice into the washcloth. Natasha started to run her fingers through her sister’s blonde locks, moving some out of the way to get to the back of her neck. Yelena stiffened a bit as the cold air was exposed to her skin. She felt as Natasha laid the wrapped up bag of ice onto the nape of her neck.

Yelena let out a hiss and a low groan. She started to move her hands over to try and cover her skin from the cold sensation racking through it. Natasha batted her hand away gently. Yelena then started to try and tuck her head into the hole of the hoodie like a turtle. Natasha suppressed a giggle.

“Lena, stop, you need to cool your body off,” Natasha chastised softly, trying to hide the slight smirk on her face at her sister’s childish antics.

“Like hell I do, I’m freezing not boiling!” Yelena retorted back, still trying to dodge the offending bag of ice.

“You’re freezing because you have a fever, your body is trying to regulate your temperature back to normal,” Natasha tried to explain, “I’m just trying to speed the process up a bit.”

“What you’re doing is trying to torture me!” Yelena exclaimed back in response. Natasha’s face paled a bit as she took in her words. She dropped the bag momentarily and went to grab her sister’s face gently in her hands. Yelena’s eyes softened as she stared back at her big sister’s soft features.

“Lena, I would never EVER do anything to hurt you,” Natasha told her sternly but sincerely. She felt as her sister’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, indicating that her fever was spiking instead of going down.

Natasha was really beginning to worry now. If she didn’t get Yelena’s fever down soon she was going to be in danger. It wasn’t like she could just take her to a doctor considering she was still a fugitive on the run. Besides, she knew her sister would likely fight her the entire time. Both for her stubbornness and for her fear of doctors brought on by the Red Room.

So she had to cool her back down on her own.

Natasha sat the bag down and gripped Yelena’s shoulders as she pressed her cheek against her sister’s. Yelena closed her eyes pushed into the gentle touch, relishing the feeling.

“Malyshka, you need to take the hoodie off.”

Yelena pulled her face away, she looked at her with pitiful eyes that looked like they had tiny tears in the corners of them.

“No...”

“Please I need you to trust me. Do you?” Natasha questioned with slight trepidation. Even in her sick state, Yelena could sense her sister’s hesitation and doubt seeping through her tough exterior. She raised her hand a little and caressed her sister’s cheek.

“With my life.”

Natasha exhaled sharply out her nose. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling a bit of her little sister’s comfort and reassurance. She grabbed Yelena’s hand with her own.

“Then please take it off.”

Yelena’s lip began to quiver as she slowly removed her hand and placed them both on the bottom of the hoodie. She reluctantly started tugging it upwards, her body started shaking as more skin began to become exposed. Natasha grabbed the top of the hoodie to help Yelena’s head out of the top hole. With shaky hands, Yelena managed to tug the hoodie completely off. Natasha swiftly took it and tossed it off to the side. Yelena, with her top covered in nothing but a tank now, immediately shot her arms up to cover her exposed skin as she violently started to shake. Her face was beet red as she shut her eyes tightly.

Natasha had to do something. She couldn’t stand seeing her baby sister in such a

distressing state. She started to move over to lay down. As she did, she beckoned her sister to follow.

“Come here.”

Yelena was still violently shaking but looked over and did as her sister asked. She started to crawl over to where her sister was laying, doing her best to not move her arms from across her chest. Natasha took ahold of her shoulders and helped glide her over and lay her down on her chest. Yelena opened her eyes as she felt sudden warmth radiate from the cheek that was laying on her sister’s chest. She felt her arms start to recoil and wrap themselves tightly around Natasha’s body. Natasha wrapped one of her arms around Yelena’s head and the other she used to gently rubbed her back.

Yelena’s shaking immediately started to placate, feeling a rush of warmth start to course through her being smooshed against her big sister. Natasha ran her hand through Yelena’s hair, gently scratching at her scalp every so often. Yelena hummed in contentment as her eyes started to close.

“Ya ponyal tebya, Malyshka.”

Those reaffirming words were the last ones Yelena heard as slumber took over.

—————————————————

A few hours later Yelena started to stir. She immediately noticed how she was feeling the cold mattress against her skin rather than the warmth of her sister. Yelena sat up immediately scanning for Natasha. She started to panic slightly as her eyes started darting everywhere in the room looking for any sign of her sister. Her head was beginning to get dizzy at the constant whipping back and forth, and she suddenly felt her breathing become hitched. There was no sign of her. Yelena suddenly felt helpless as tears started to form in her eyes. She was alone. She was still cold.

She wanted her sister.

Natasha walked back through the door a few minutes after and immediately spotted her sister silently weeping. She dropped the bag she was carrying and rushed right over to her side.

“Lena, are you ok? What’s wrong?” She asked in a panicked state. She cupped her hands around Yelena’s face. She observed how her sisters breathing was a bit hitched and started to piece together why she was so emotional.

“You weren’t here.” Yelena whispered brokenly, sniffling a little. Natasha wrapped her arms around her baby sister, resting her chin on the top of Yelena’s head.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could slip out and get back before you woke up,” Natasha apologized to her. Yelena still felt really warm against her skin. She wasn’t shivering quite as intensely as before, which Natasha took as a good sign. But she still very obviously had a fever.

When she felt Yelena’s breathing start to return to normal, Natasha unwrapped herself to retrieve the contents she had thrown onto the ground in a panic to console her. Yelena watched with curiosity as she pulled one of the contents out of the bag. As soon as she spotted the offending bottle, her face crinkled in disgust.

“No.”

“Yelena.”

“Don’t ‘Yelena’ me! I’m not drinking that crap!”

Natasha sighed a bit as she held the bottle of liquid medicine in her hand. She knew from the minute she picked it up that there was gonna be a fight. No matter, she was gonna take it regardless.

Natasha sat the bottle on the dresser and sat down on the bed in front of Yelena. Her arms were crossed in a very defensive position, much like a child pouting.

“Lena, I know you aren’t a fan of drinking medicine, but it was all they had that would help with all of your symptoms.” Natasha tried to soothe her. She placed a hand on Yelena’s cheek, which she leaned into heavily.

“Still no.”

Natasha sighed a bit, but then smirked. She came prepared.

“I thought you might say that.”

She got up and went back over to the bag and pulled out the other content. Yelena’s eyes fell on a sight much more beautiful. Natasha’s smirk grew as she pulled out a full size Snickers bar. She watched as Yelena’s eyes bulged, slightly chuckling at the reaction.

“Thought I might sweeten the deal for you,” Natasha said with a straight face. Yelena wrinkled her nose a bit at the pun but giggled in spite of herself.

“That was terrible.”

“Whatever.”

Yelena rolled her eyes but reached her arm out to try and grab the candy. Natasha moved it out of her reach swiftly.

“Ah ah, first you take the medicine.”

Yelena pulled her arm back and looked up at Natasha with her infamous pout. Natasha just scoffed.

“That’s not gonna work on me.” She told her still holding the candy bar out of her reach. Yelena sat back and crossed her arms.

“Whatever, I can just take it.”

Natasha snorted and quickly covered her mouth, Yelena narrowed her eyes in challenge.

“You can certainly try,” Natasha challenged.

Yelena went to stand and lunge for the bar. Natasha just stood still and placed it behind her back. She witnessed her baby sister wobbling as she approached her with predatory eyes. When she went to lunge, she simply fell right into Natasha, who caught her with her free arm.

Yelena wiggled out and tried to reach behind her sister, who simply sidestepped. Natasha kept her arm wrapped around her sister, chuckling slightly.

“Yelena, sit back down before you hurt yourself,” Natasha scolded lightly. However, her sister persisted. Natasha took matters into her own hands and guided her back over to the bed. Yelena, in her sick state, simply fell right onto the mattress, having exhausted what little energy she had out of her body. Natasha set the bar down onto the dresser and pulled out a spoon. She sat on the bed crossing her legs and poured a generous amount of the liquid medicine onto the spoon. Yelena eyed her with intensity.

“If you won’t take it willingly, I’ll just feed it to you,” Natasha simply stated. Yelena’s mouth gaped a bit in offense.

“I’m not a baby!” She protested.

“Really, you sure are acting like one.” Natasha replied back with a slight tease in her tone. She started to move the spoon over toward Yelena’s face. Yelena in response closed her mouth as tightly as she could, not having any intent of that spoon finding its way in.

“Yelena come on, it’s one swallow and you’re done. Please?” Natasha pleaded with her, starting to grow a little impatient. Yelena simply just stuck her tongue out and immediately pulled it back into her mouth, closing it off again completely. Natasha gave her an unamused look.

“Real mature.”

Yelena smirked a bit, a little too pleased with herself. Natasha tried moving the spoon over to her mouth and she simply turned her head away from it.

“Yelena, open your mouth.”

“Mm mm”

“Yelena.”

“Make me.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes a bit at the challenge. She cast her daze downward a bit before smirking herself. Yelena kept her eyes focused on her sister, scanning for any kind of possible trick up her sleeve.

“Alright, you win.”

Natasha simply moved over to the side. Yelena kept a very strong gaze on her, not trusting that she was truly accepting defeat. If there was one thing she knew better than anyone, it was to never underestimate Natasha Romanoff.

Yelena furrowed her brow as her sister scooted over close to her, their shoulders brushing a bit. Natasha has an unreadable expression on her face, which annoyed Yelena to no end. However, after a few beats of silence, Natasha finally cocked her head a bit to the side and gave her sister a tiny little smile. Yelena melted a little and very briefly let her guard down to smile back. Natasha immediately turned her head back, facing forward completely.

“Pockets are overrated.”

Yelena immediately snapped her head up and her jaw practically hit the floor. Her eyes as wide as saucers as she glared at her sister.

“WHAT!?”

In a swift motion, Natasha lunged the spoon still full of medicine directly into Yelena’s mouth, moving a hand to cover it before she had a chance to spit it out. Yelena gagged as she forcibly swallowed the liquid down. She cringed as it burned going down her throat.

Natasha smiled wryly, tilting her head a bit as she waved the now empty spoon in the air slightly. “Thank you for your cooperation, sestrichka.”

“Ack! Blech!! Are you insane?! You could’ve killed me!!” Yelena screamed out, gagging at the lingering taste in her mouth.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Natasha told her, putting the spoon away with the medicine. Yelena narrowed her eyes, still coughing a little.

“It tastes like spoiled cherries and crushed dreams.” She whimpered out.

“I know it’s not that tasty, but it’ll make you feel better.” Natasha stated. Yelena looked over at her with betrayal in her eyes. She pouted again.

“That was a very mean trick.”

“You’re fine.”

“Cyka.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she got up off the bed and headed over to the dresser, she picked up the candy bar and pretended to inspect it, turning it around multiple times. She pulled her eyes back up to her baby sister that looked like she was about to pounce again.

“You know, I’m not quite sure you deserve this,” Natasha expressed with way too much mirth and mischief.

“What?! I took the stupid medicine like you asked!” Yelena exclaimed.

“True but you fought me the whole time and then you called me a bitch so…” Natasha continued as she started to peel some of the wrapper.

“Ok ok! I’m sorry.” Yelena apologized quickly. Natasha gave an amused chuckle at her baby sisters frantic and desperate state, knowing she wasn’t going to actually not give it to her but thought she still deserved a little payback.

“Alright fine, I guess I’ll show you pity since you’re ill,” Natasha contended as she graciously tossed the bar onto the bed right in front of Yelena. Yelena leaped at it, grabbing it with both and hands wasting no time tearing the plastic off. Natasha went and sat on the edge of the bed, watching with pure adoration as her baby sister tore into the snickers bar, a look of absolute euphoria on her face.

“How is it?” She asked gently.

Yelena looked up at her from her chewing, their eyes reciprocating the same love and adoration radiating off of each other.

“It’s good. Really moist.”

“Yea well that’s what candy tastes like that isn’t 5 years old.” Natasha responded with playfulness. Natasha scooted over a bit to sit right next to her sister. Yelena leaned her head onto her shoulder as she continued to savor her treat. Natasha cocked her head a bit and placed a tiny kiss onto the top of Yelena’s head before moving her own to rest on top of it. She wrapped her arm around Yelena, beckoning her to move closer. Yelena obliged and scooted a little bit further into her. Natasha sighed in contentment.

“Can I have a bite?” Natasha asked teasingly.

“Nah. Get your own.”

Natasha gasped in mock offense, moving her head away a little to face her sister, definitely noting the shit eating grin on her face.

“Hey! I paid for it!”

“And then you gave it to me so it’s mine now.” Yelena replied cheekily. Natasha shoved her shoulder playfully, being mindful to not shove too hard knowing her body was probably still weak.

“You little brat, I’ll remember that next time you ask for something of mine.”

Yelena giggled at her sister’s reaction, knowing that she was just messing with her. Natasha moved both of them to the headrest and laid her back against the board, while Yelena’s was mostly leaned into her body.

Yelena finished the bar and did end up leaving the last tiny piece for her sister. She claimed that “she was full” which Natasha knew was obvious bs but went along with it anyway. The two sisters laid there together in contentment as Yelena was starting to drift off ti sleep again. Natasha grabbed her head gently in her hands and moved it onto the pillow before placing her own head right next to her sister’s. She draped one arm over Yelena as she snuggled her as close as she could as she was starting to feel a bit groggy herself. She could still feel the heat radiating off of Yelena’s body but for the first time that day she was not shivering.

———————————————————————

A few hours later Natasha started to stir, and the first thing she noticed was her arm was drenched in sweat. Disgusted a bit, she pulled her arm back and immediately noticed how Yelena’s body was covered in sweat. Natasha felt her heart start to flutter a bit as she went to place another kiss to her sisters forehead and, to her utmost relief, Yelena’s temperature was normal again. She leaned her face against her sister’s, not caring about the sweat anymore, and relished in the sound of her baby sister’s breathing.

Yelena started to stir as well and felt the pressure of her sister’s face smooshed against her own. She gazed upward with a tiny smile.

“I’m not cold anymore.”

“Your fever broke.”

“Is that why I’m drenched in sweat?” Yelena took in how sticky she felt, she motioned to sit up and Natasha moved over so she could. Yelena started wiping her hand across her arms trying to get some of the sweat off. Natasha sat up with her head propped up on one elbow, her immense grin not leaving her face.

“How are you feeling?” She questioned Yelena.

“Still a little sore but nowhere near as bad as before.” Yelena responded. Natasha got up and went to fetch her a towel to dry off some of the sweat. When she returned Yelena was sitting up crisscrossed on the bed and she was very thankful to see that Yelena’s color had come back to her face. Her nose was still a little red but her eyes didn’t look near as puffy as they had earlier. Natasha felt a wave of relief wash over her as she made her back over to the bed and started dabbing the towel on Yelena’s back and forehead, getting as much sweat off as she could.

“Ty istselil menya, sestra” Yelena whispered as she leaned her head back a bit. Natasha froze for a moment as her heart swelled so unbelievably as she took in her baby sister’s sentiment. She placed the towel down as cupped her hands around Yelena’s cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“Ya sdelayu vse dlya vas, moya sestrichka.”

Translation

Ya ponyal tebya, Malyshka- I’m right here, babygirl

Ty istselil menya, sestra- you healed me, sister

Ya sdelayu vse dlya vas, moya sestrichka- I’d do anything for you, my baby sister

[landothemuppet]

Far Longer Than Forever (p.p)

Word count: 4737

Pairing : peter parker

Request: YES! ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. The Swan Princess is one of my childhood movie and this was so fun to write. I can’t stop listenning the soundtrack now ! I’m so sorry for the time i took to write this, i had so much work to do with school. But it’s over now and i hope you will like this ! 

N/A:  First, gif not mine but i don’t know who i’m gonna credit on this, i have no clue...This is my first Peter Parker x reader and i hope you all will like it! As always, I remind you that English is not my native language. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Like, reblogs to support. You can Love you all! xx

Taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp​ - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

______

As far as you can remember, you've always hated summer. Well, it was partly a lie. You loved the sweltering heat of Queens, the cherry popsicles from Delmar's, not having to worry about what time you had to get up. You liked it but hated the idea of ​​the last two weeks of August.

 This year was no exception. You looked at your half-finished suitcase, a grimace on your face. August still meant the same thing, the same routine: having to spend the last three weeks of his vacation with Peter Parker.

summer 2009

Peter Parker had lost his parents very early on, two years ago. He had lived since then with his aunt May and his uncle Ben. It was your mother's idea to introduce you to each other. Aunt May and your mom were friends from college and luckily, they lived in the same neighborhood. Your first meeting with the one who, many years later, would become Spider-Man, took place on his eighth birthday. You were invited to the party when you weren't even at the same school. Aunt May had simply shared his fears about Peter's difficulty making friends after the trauma he had experienced. Your mother, as the perfect friend that she was, had suggested that Peter and you spend time together.

 There were 3 kids in total at that birthday party, you, Peter - obviously - and a boy from his school whose mother had forced him to be there, too. It was a fact; you were the only girl and you didn't know Peter at all. Your mother walked up to you, got up to your eye level and whispered

 "Can you be nice? May told me she invited Peter's whole class and only this boy came"

 You wanted to please your mother so you nodded before approaching the two boys. Peter and his friend were in the corner of the room, their backs turned to the adults. When you tapping the young boy on the shoulder to make you notice by him, he turned to you with a guilty expression. He had buttercream all over the corner of his mouth and he was holding a cupcake in his hand that looked delicious.

 “My Aunt May tried to bake a cake, but Uncle Ben bought some cupcakes in anticipation. Do you want one?” Peter asked you in a friendly voice

“Why? Is May's cake not good?

“Uncle Ben says that she is not very good at cooking.”

 You let out a little laugh and nodded your head before grabbing the cupcake with a smile. You thanked him and began to taste the little pastry with envy. It was so good! The buttercream was lemony, the cupcake was slightly lemony too but there was a taste you couldn't recognize. You were almost sure you had tasted it before, but you couldn't tell what it was. Peter and the other boy suggested that you go to Peter's room. He wanted to show you the LEGO set his uncle Ben had given him ahead of time and you followed them even though you weren't more excited about the idea.

 And you were right. For several minutes, you were pushed aside while the two young boys spoke spiritedly. You complained several times that you wanted to do something else but Peter didn't seem to listen to you, too excited to finally be able to chat with someone who appreciated Star Wars as much as he did.

 So you were annoyed and slightly angry with Peter but what broke the camel's back is that you started to not feel so good. Your throat was itching and you felt like your tongue was taking up a lot more space in your mouth, getting drier. Peter gave you a distracted look before his eyes widened. He let go of everything he had in his hands before running to his aunt.

 "Aunt May, Aunt May! Y/N's tongue looks like a big, desiccated steak!"

"Peter, don't be rude!" she exclaimed, shocked by her nephew’s words

"No, no come see, she has a huge tongue! I think something is wrong"

 Meanwhile, you ran into the bathroom at Peter's reaction. You weren't sure why he had looked at you like that, but you felt that a few things were wrong. In addition, you were more and more thirsty, your eyes also hurt. And that's when you saw your reflection. You were puffy, your tongue had tripled in size, hence this feeling of dryness and discomfort. It was the same with your throat. You started to cry and when May called you through the bathroom door, you fervently opened it.

 May and your mother's expression of horror was instantaneous and your mother knew exactly what was causing your condition.

 "What did she eat?"

"Nothing..." he tried to escape from being grounded

"Peter, this is very important. What did you eat?"

"We just ate the cupcakes Uncle Ben brought back"

 Ben looked at May with guilty eyes. May had put so much effort into Peter's birthday cake and she felt hurt that they had bought some pastries in anticipation. Your mother was impatiently stamping her foot. It was important to know exactly what you had eaten and above all, you shouldn't waste any more time. Peter felt completely helpless. He had only given a cupcake to his guest, that’s all. What was wrong with giving someone a cupcake?

 "What were those cupcakes flavor?" your mother said impatiently ...

"With lemon and almonds." he said in a very small voice.

 You were panicked. And the eight-year-old that you were was not coping well with stress. Plus, your feeling of being sidelined by Peter and his friend made you feel even worse. So you frowned. You couldn't see a thing but you could feel the torrent of tears escaping your cheeks. You pointed at Peter with rage

 "You tried to kill me !!!" you said somehow with your tongue as big as a little tangerine.

"It's not true!"

"Yes! You are a murderer"

 And you cried even more before your mother takes you to the emergency room as quickly as possible, apologizing for the scene.

 The week later, May forced Peter to apologize for giving you a cupcake, while justifying that he didn't know about your allergy. Your mother forced you to apologize for insulting Peter "a murderer" and accept his apologies.

 But you spent the rest of the vacation arguing with the little guy. After all, you didn't want to be friends with a murderer.

 Summer 2013

Aunt May and your mom didn't let go, however, and every summer you spent three damn weeks with Peter. The summer of your twelve years, you did not thus escape this eternal masquerade but this year, the tide had turned in your favor.

 From the start, you never liked Star Wars. It really wasn't your world. You had always preferred Harry Potter and although Peter had read the books and enjoyed them - which he would never admit to you as that would amount to listing the commonalities you had - he was much more invested in the galactic universe. But on that day, Peter had particularly bothered you. He had first replaced the sugar in your hot chocolate with salt. He kept chanting silly nursery rhymes about you and the downstairs neighbor, insinuating that you were in love: which was not the case. Yes, Peter had been extremely annoying. This time Peter was getting on your nerds by bouncing a small ball against the ceiling as you tried to read your book. Uncle Ben was in the living room watching the sport - you weren't sure exactly which one since it didn't matter to you - so you couldn't go anywhere else to be quiet.

 "Peter, stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked by bouncing the ball once more off his ceiling. You could even make out the smirk on his lips.

"That. Stop it! I can't read."

"This is nothing new."

 You threw him the first thing you found on his desk, c.e, a banana, which he easily dodged. You groaned in frustration. May and your mother didn't understand when you talked about Peter's attitude towards you. He was a calm child, far too shy at school and interested in everything, especially science. He was looking forward to entering Midletown High School in two years. You hated that nerd side about him. Secretly, you were a little jealous of him for being the smartest in the room.

 “I'm gonna hit you so hard you won't know your name anymore”

“ try me, dumbass.”

  A few minutes later, he had finally stopped throwing that damn ball, but obviously Peter's boredom was driving him to find everything the most boring thing than the previous one to drive you crazy. This time, he had simply taken his favorite lightsaber - because he had several - and he was poking your shoulder to get your attention.

 "Parker, stop!"

"Don't you want to drop this book and watch a movie?"

"What do you want to watch? Star Wars? No thanks ..."

"Oh come on, Y / N! I'm sure you'll like it!"

 He patted you on the shoulder once more with his lightsaber.

 "Do you want to play this, Parker?" you said before grabbing one of his other lightsabers

"What are you going to do? I'm sure you don't know how to fight with" he mocked.

 You have lit the glowing plastic stick and you are placed in the guard position.

 "Do you want to bet, knothead?"

 He smiled at you and attacked you first. Strangely, this is what most resembled a moment of bond between Peter and you and deep down, you appreciate it. But you also appreciate that possibility of kicking his ass after he's been so irritating. You responded to his lightsaber attacks with ease and joy. It was playful, childish, but it was one of the few times you had fun with Peter. And you really appreciate it. Your two laughs mingled, echoing in the room.

 But suddenly, as you were trying to dodge an attack from the brunet, your elbow made contact with his face. Peter's muffled cry of pain echoed and you froze. He was holding his nose with a grimace and when he took his hand away you both noticed in horror that he was bleeding.

 "Fuck…"

"Pete..." you started talking

"You blew my nose!" Peter shouted

"I did not do it on purpose!" you defended yourself.

"Of course, you do! You fucking blew my nose!"

"Peter, I swear ..."

 But Peter interrupted you by rushing out of his bedroom looking for his aunt who was in the office as she tried to file the important papers, that Ben and her had received this week. You were livid. First, because you didn't mean to hurt Peter on purpose. Second, you couldn't stand the sight of blood and it was literally everywhere. Peter was leaving trails of droplets on the floor of the apartment.

 "Aunt May?!? Y/N blew my nose! Damn, I'm bleeding!"

 After a brief stint in the ER, the rest of the stay was peaceful as you and Peter avoided each other until the end of the summer.

 Summer 2017

Peter was not the Peter you had always known.

 Since the death of his uncle Ben, the young man had closed in on himself and was even further away. Always so intelligent and discreet but much more distant. He had stopped teasing you or doing things that got on your nerves. He was minding his own business. And even though you had tried to be there for him, not denying him any of the offers he made to you during your stay ... you found him really ... overwhelmed. Which was still understandable.

 But this year was worse than the last. May told your mother that last year Peter got an internship at Stark Industry and attended a seminar in Germany but came back with a black eye. He had been acting most weirdly ever more since then. And you could have witnessed it. In the afternoon, when you were busy, and when it was too hot, when you tried to rest, Peter would disappear for hours. When you caught him sneaking back several times, he made you promise not to tell Aunt May.

 And you were starting to have theories about his nighttime getaways. After all, you were 16 and you too had started dating a few boys. But it never really worked. who knows why?! And when you wondered if Peter had a girlfriend, and who she was - he had to have one in view of all his sneaking out - your stomach twisted in a strange feeling. You didn't understand why the thought of Peter having a girlfriend bothered you so much. Over time, you had learned to be friends. It still happened sometimes that you quarreled but the events of the life made you grow up. Your parents had divorced, Peter had lost his uncle. You could tell yourself that you both had grown.

 And it was one night when Peter was sneaking back in again that you discovered two secrets.

 The first one: He was Spider-Man.

 It was around midnight when you heard the sound of the window opening. Since your childhood and this Machiavellian plan of your mother and Aunt May, you had always slept in Peter's room during holiday and more recently in his bed. The noise alerted you and you got up in a sitting position. But the only thing you saw was a foot, placed on this said window, closing it gently. How the hell was that possible?

 You were ready to scream but your gut told you to look up at the ceiling. A figure hung on it and you were paralyzed. Were you having one of those weird experiences called sleep paralysis? Delicately, silently, you grabbed the first blunt object within reach. A chemistry book that Peter seemed particularly fond of. The figure stepped on the ceiling as you were paralyzed. The form turned to land on the ground and then stood up, still with its back to you. You got up gently from Peter's bed and walked over. The man in the suit whose color you couldn't see took off his mask and you hit the air in an attempt to shoot him down. Peter turned around so quickly and blocked your gesture easily, like a reflex.

 "What the ..."

"Bloody hell".

 You both said at the same time. Your big surprised eyes mirrored Peter's. The curly man let go of your hand with an apologetic expression as you walked away from your friend. You turned on the bedside lamp before you discovered his blue and red costume. A very recognizable costume since it was that of Spider-Man. You winced, a look of judgment and incomprehension on your face. Not bothering to look at his face covered with bruises and traces of blood.

 "What the ... are you sneaking out to go to a costume party?"

"What?! No…No Y/N I’m…”

“Spider-Man? Great costume by the way” you joked.

 For a moment, you completely forgot that you just saw your friend glued upside down to the ceiling. Peter looked at you a little jaded, by the tone of your voice your guess was far from a sincere question but more of a mockery. And right now, the young man needed to be honest with you. He needed you.

 "But, I am."

"Yeah that's it. And I slept with the Winter Soldier. You can't imagine what he can do with his metal arm."

 Peter cut you off by pulling a web with his web shooter, tying your hands. The feel of the canvas was unpleasant, sticky but above all resistant. You let out a little cry of surprise, not powerful enough to pass the walls of Peter's room. Your eyes looked like two big golf balls, realizing that your friend was telling the truth.

 "Omg, You're Spider-Man" you almost spoke too loud.

"Yes and don't make me web your mouth. May doesn't have to know"

"damn, peter. What happened to your face!"

“yeah about that…I need you Y/N, please…”

  And without warning, Peter squeezed the spider in the middle of his costume, at chest level. He winced at the action revealing his bruised chest. He staggered a bit from the action, unsure of his legs and the pain in his sides fierce. You might see several bruises and cuts on your friend's body. You were having difficulty swallowing before you told him you were going to the bathroom to get what you needed. Before leaving the room, he made you promise to be discreet and not tell May anything if she ran into you. When you walk back into Peter's room, he's sitting half-lying on his bed, grimacing. You sit next to him, your heart pounding. You never noticed that he was so built. After all, as a superhero, he had to keep fit. But you couldn't deny that it intimidated you. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and a desire you never knew before. He had his eyes closed, as if trying to make the pain go away. And there, looking at him, you found him pretty. he was so cute that you couldn't help but run your hand through his curls to signal your presence and soothe him a bit. But Peter already knew you were there. He had heard your footsteps, he had smelled your scent, a sweet scent he had grown used to in his later years. He sighed softly, more relaxed. You started to clean the few shallow wounds.

 "Does it hurt?" you asked quietly

"Mhmm no, not really."

"Did you win?"

"Ouch..No. Not tonight."

"Sorry." you said more for your gesture rather than the fact that he didn't win the fight against the bad guys.

"No, it's perfect ... it's just a little sensitive"

 You smiled but something was wrong. A feeling you've never felt before. You've finished cleaning up Peter's wounds, but your gaze has darkened. As you were about to get up, the brunette gently grabbed your wrist to hold you back. He could hear your calm breathing and yet your heart was racing. He could feel the heat on your cheeks. He too felt that the tension was at its height. Your mind was muddled, he didn't know why, he wasn't a telepath, but he could see it, feel it. Your body betrayed your mind.

 "Y/N, what is it?"

"I..I don't know." you lied.

"You can tell me everything."

"I ... Well…Seeing you like this ... makes me ... makes me realize that I ... I'm afraid of losing you."

"You won't lose me ... I promise"

 You are ashamed of your vulnerable state. How did you go from hating this boy to having an overwhelming fear of losing him? You looked at those chocolate eyes in confusion and distress. You were now fully aware that the little neighborhood spider was none other than your childhood friend. The one you once loved to hate, tease, fight with over trivia. He was also on the youtube videos, who stopped cars with his bare hands.

 “Y/N… you won’t lose me, I promise.”

 Peter dared to walk slowly towards you and in a surge of courage, one of his hands circled your burning cheek, his lips rested on yours. The brunette had always had a crush on you without actually admitting it. After all, you had known each other since you were children but... your relationship had been rather confrontational. But for two years now, everything had changed for him. He appreciated more and more your little arguments, your teasing. His thoughts would sometimes turn darker when you lick your lips or when your fingers scratched that point behind your ear, when you were a little stressed.

 Your lips moved between them in a harmonious dance and you were now clinging desperately to Peter's slightly sweaty brown curls. Your heart was pounding at a speed close to the point of no return, reluctant to stop suddenly in the face of this overstimulation. But all good things came to an end and you slowly walked away. You bit your lip to get the taste of Peter's back. Your mind wandered, lost in the haze of rushing feelings.

 "You..you should rest ..."

 You ended up pulling away, swallowing hard. That night you didn't sleep. You have studied every facial feature of Peter, thinking of every event since your friendship. The next day, you fooled that nothing had happened. Too scared of what that kiss meant to you.

 Summer 2025

It all happened so quickly. After that summer, the summer of your kiss, you promised yourself that you understood your feelings towards Peter. You weren't going to the same high school and even though you were both on social media, you never dared to contact him. You needed time.

 But you haven't had this time. Peter became full-time Spider-Man and then the aliens came to earth, again. The threat of Thanos hovered and within moments, days, hours ... you were gone under his snap.

 When you returned to your childhood apartment, you were alone. Well, alone in front of the family who lived in this place now. The man in his forties simply believed you were a drug-hunting teenager squatter. Five damn years had passed. 5 years where your mother had a new life when you had been eclipsed. You were distraught, alone and it was by happy coincidence that you found May at the F.E.A.S.T project. It was a relief for you to find a familiar face again. She had suggested that you come and live in her new temporary apartment, allowing you to finish high school without having to move to the other end of the United States, with your mother. You declined your offer. You wanted to fend for yourself. And surprisingly, you did pretty well.

 To be exact, Mr. Delmar was looking for a student to work in his store and was kind enough to greet you in the bedroom of one of his daughters who had gone to college. By the greatest of luck, you've never seen Peter. Or rather, you managed to avoid it for an entire year. You had caught a glimpse of him one day, trying to speak Italian to get a travel adapter and a dual headphone adapter. Did you feel foolish thinking that after so long - could we consider those 5 years to be 5 concrete years? - would it still focus on the kiss you shared? After all, you got away from him after that. And then, everything went in a state of madness.

 Every time you turned on the television, you learned that elemental monsters had attacked a different country. They had first started with Mexico and then moved to Europe. Italy, Prague and then London. A certain Mysterio seemed to be taking care of this matter, but you couldn't help but think of Peter. May told you he was supposed to go to Italy. In fact, every time she went to Delmar's for a sandwich, she gave you an update on her nephew's trip. But it wasn't the craziest.

 Upon his return ... Spider-man's identity was revealed. You had watched in horror the video of Mysterio, which appeared on the Daily Buggle newspaper, accusing Peter of wanting to be the new Iron-Man. You were listening to J. Jonah Jameson falsely accusing Peter of being a murderer. You knew Peter, and there was no way he had done such an act. The video was bogus, you were sure. When you tried to reconnect that summer, you noticed Peter's girlfriend. Michelle Jones and ... and that's what kept you from approaching him. He was already supported. He had his best friend, Ned. His girlfriend, MJ. And he had May. It was enough, wasn't it?

  It was the following year, after a new incredible adventure that you met again.

You worked at the store in the evening. Mr Delmar had asked you to help him out urgently because his youngest daughter had a health problem. You accepted with pleasure. You had offered to babysit his daughter but the loving father he was wanted to be with her. And it was precisely this evening that a thug decided to steal the fund from you.

 You were at gunpoint with your hands up in the air when you saw a red and black mass fall behind the thug.

 "Hey buddy, I think the bank is across the street"

 Spider-Man tapped the thief on the shoulder and dodged a punch.

 "But I think I'll arrest you anyway if you went to the bank. You don't seem like a nice guy." Peter joked.

 You were paralyzed as your friend, your best friend if you were honest, chained or avoided them with agility. You swallowed hard, unable to move or run away. A gunshot rang out and you smelled a scared little vintage. Peter squeezed the barrel of the gun in his hand, deviating from his course. It made sense now to say that he had simply defended himself against the assault. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Peter stared the offender against a fridge door, immobilizing him. He then turned to you, oblivious to your identity at the time.

 "Are you okay there?"

"Peter!"

 You didn't give him the chance to realize and you rushed into his arms, hugging him so tight to feel the comfort of his body against yours.

 "Uh, yeah, you're welcome. Cuddles are nice but ..."

 He paused for a moment and his automated eyes widened. He knew his perfume. The flowery, sweet scents that he had missed so much. Is this possible?

 "Y/N?"

 You let go of him and immediately put his mask back on. Adrenaline was controlling your actions and god damn it, you needed that touch. You kissed him, bluntly. Your lips crushed against his in impatience, in ardor, but too bad. You needed to feel it against you, to regain the feeling that you had felt, years ago. After a few seconds, you felt Peter's hands encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was exploding, the ardor was present in your kiss. You were even frustrated that you couldn't grab her brown curls with full hands, settling for only the base of her hair. You let out a moan before pulling away abruptly. He had a girlfriend.

 "I… I'm sorry. I… Sorry, I didn't mean… MJ… and… please don't blame me."

 Peter silenced you with another kiss, shorter this time but so good.

 “There is no MJ .... Just you and me ... Far Longer Than Forever”

 You looked at him hopefully and then burst out laughing after his words.

 "I didn't know you were so romantic, Parker"

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me"

"You are impossible."

"But obviously, you like"

 He was going to say something to nag you, he was looking for it but you caught him off guard, placing your lips on his again. You could feel his smile in the kiss and you couldn't help but do the same. Anyone living in the neighborhood present in the street would have a view of Spider-Man kissing the student cashier from Delmar. But you couldn't care less. You had waited too long and the joy you were feeling now was so intense, you didn't want to stop feeling this. It is reluctantly that Peter moved away from you apologizing for the fact that he had to go on patrol again.

 "Go save the Spider-Man neighborhood"

"Only if you promise me you'll be there when I get back."

"I was thinking of going to say goodnight to May instead ... But if you want, I have a sleeping bag in the storeroom."

"You are incorrigible .... See you later ..."

"See you later."

 You smiled, in a misty state of bliss as Peter disappeared from view. This time, you weren't planning to escape, you wanted to fall into the webs of Peter Parker. You closed the store after the police visit and headed to May's flat. It was late but with her kindness she welcomed you with open arms.

 This summer ... was the best in years but the others to come were going to be even more wonderful.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || ii

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime is easy. your feelings aren’t ignored, either. but is it worth the complications it could cause?

warnings: f!reader, mentions of depression/implied depiction of depression

wc: 2.9k

m.list | ch. 1 ↞ ch. 2 ↠ ch. 3 

last time... 

He leant in, pressing his lips against yours softly. You froze, every nerve in your body now on high alert.

Iwaizumi Hajime? Kissing you? No way. No. Better yet, your first kiss? You had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening.

And yet the burning of your cheeks, the swelling of your heart, the feeling of his lips pressed against yours all said otherwise. This was happening.

✧ ✧ ✧

You’d half-convinced yourself that it was all a dream. There was no way Hajime had kissed you last night. No way he’d looked at you like that – like you were the most delightful thing he’d ever seen.

It sounded far too good to be true.

But the smile he’d given you in the morning told you otherwise.

It was so gentle, so honest. There’s a softness in his eyes that you’ve only caught a few times before, and each time he knew you could see it, he had always looked away.

But this morning was different. Because last night had been different.

Because he’d kissed you.

The two of you were in the kitchen, Iwaizumi with a cup of milk in hand and you empty-handed. You had intended to come and get yourself some breakfast, but you weren’t sure if you could stomach it now. Not with all these butterflies crashing around in there.

You hadn’t even said anything to each other – just looking at him was enough to make you feel like you were going to melt into a useless puddle. 

He nodded to the kitchen counter. You followed his gaze to a mug, the string and tag of a tea bag dangling over the side. One look at the tag and you knew it was your favourite. 

Oh. He remembered. You weren’t even sure if you’d told him that detail, but he’d paid enough attention regardless. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, casting your eyes to the ground.              

Come on, you thought, at least say thank you. You’ve spoken to him plenty of times before. If anything, you should be less nervous now – he’d kissed you. Kissed you! That meant that he must like you a little bit, right?

Your heart bloomed in your chest, spreading a feeling like static throughout your body. At the very least, you could say good morning. And you knew – you just knew – that he would smile at you again. That’s enough motivation.

You took a deep breath, finally lifting your eyes back up.

“Are you alright?” Tooru’s voice popped your bubble. He was standing just to your left, bread bun in hand and cheeks puffy like a squirrel’s.

“Hm?” You tried to pay him no attention; you absolutely didn’t want to give Tooru a reason to tease.

“You look sick.”

Of course. You shot him a glare, the dreamy look on your face morphing into a scowl. “Oh, thanks?”

“What?” Tooru whined, mouth full of bread.

“You’re being rude.”

Tooru scoffed, swallowing in one big gulp. “I am just a concerned brother, I don’t know why you’re demonizing me—”

You rolled your eyes, stalking over to the kettle.

Chances were a conversation with Hajime was likely out of the question, at least for today. You didn’t want to just announce this… thing between you to Tooru.

You’d just text him later.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Here,” he smiled, holding your boba out to you. He knew your favourite order like it was his own. That enough made your heart go wild.

“Thanks,” you blushed, letting your fingers brush against his as you took the cup from him.

You caught a glimpse of colour in Iwaizumi’s cheeks, and your heart fluttered.

He stabbed his straw into his boba and brought it to his lips.

He had such nice lips. They weren’t particularly big or striking, but they were nicely shaped. They complimented his face, balancing well with the rest of his features. And best of all, they were softer than—

You snapped your eyes away, heat flooding through your face.

God, you were embarrassing. This was embarrassing.

The two of you had already kissed. Why were you so damn awkward. Surely, you could hold his hand. That usually came before kissing for most couples. You might be working backwards, but that was okay, right?

“Hey, uh… Hajime?” Your throat was dry, your hands clammy.

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. This was still harder than you’d given it credit for. Even if you had crossed other lines, this was still more exciting than it should be. “Can I hold your hand?”

There’s a moment of silence. A long silence.

Had you said something wrong? Was this moving too quickly? But he’d kissed you…

“Ah, that’s…” He said finally. You caught your breath. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Oh…” You tried to swallow down the weird little lump in your throat. “Okay.”

“Not, uh…” He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not until we’ve told Oikawa.”

“Right,” you nodded. You fought the urge to shake off your disappointment, to stretch out the fuzziness in your hands.  

You’d get there eventually, you told yourself. One of these days, you’d walk hand-in-hand with Iwaizumi Hajime, happy and giggly and open about your feelings.

You couldn’t wait for that day.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Where’s Hajime?” You asked, juice box in hand and frown on your face.

“He said he needed to study this weekend,” Tooru yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

You did your best not to pout.

Other than your Tuesday walks, Friday was the only other opportunity each week to spend time with him without it being too obvious.

But he wasn’t there this Friday.

A little knot sat at the bottom of your stomach, small enough to be ignored, but heavy enough to give you pause.

You shook your head, frowning.

No, you were being silly. He was just busy this weekend – and perhaps you should be, too. There was no reason for you to be so worried.

Not when he’d given you no real reason to be.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s been almost two weeks since he’d kissed you.

It’s been four days since he’d had a proper conversation with you.

On reflection, he had been a little weird on Thursday. His texts had been drier than usual – and he was already a pretty dry texter. Then, he hadn’t come over to your house on Friday like he usually did.

And then, he hadn’t texted you at all over the weekend.

That little knot in your stomach from Friday had gotten tighter, bigger, more demanding.

It’s like he was hiding you away. Some part of you – a part you very much wanted to throttle – feared that he was doing so because he was ashamed. That being seen with you would be embarrassing. Not that he’d given you any reason to think that, but the worry just wouldn’t shift.

The more logical part of your brain knew he was doing it so Tooru wouldn’t see you together. That alone is enough to root a deeper, more violent anxiety through your stomach.

But he had to walk you home today. You didn’t feel like he’d bail on that, at least.  

To your relief, he was waiting for you at the school gate.

But as you made your way to the boba shop, he didn’t say much. He wasn’t the most talkative of people, but even this was quiet for him.

And when he was purchasing both your drinks, he made no comment about your financial ‘situation’. The most you could get out of him were some anecdotes from practice or what assignments and exams he had coming up.

And as you walked on, the stretches of silence grew longer. Usually, you wouldn’t mind them, but these days…

Hajime sighed, slowing to a stop. You shuttered to a stop after him, only just becoming aware of your surroundings.

To your left, the mountains. To your right, some rocks and a wall. In front of you, Hajime.

This was familiar. This spot, this boba, this afternoon.

But something was distinctly off. This wasn’t your typical outing to go look at the mountains. This was different.

You bit the inside of your cheek. So, he was of the same mind as you.

“So,” you sighed, sitting yourself down on the rocks. It was warm to the touch, likely from basking in the summer sun all afternoon. Hajime remained standing, his eyes trained on the mountains.

You didn’t know what you wanted to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what there was to say. Was this his way of telling you he wasn’t interested? Was that it? You’d never really been involved like this with a guy before, so the potential was there. Was this just standard practice for boys?

“How are you?” Hajime asked, a strange stiffness in his voice. There was usually a bit of tightness in his face, a light scowl or a look of intense concentration. But even he looked tenser than usual.

“I’m okay,” you lied. You took a moment to try and catch his eye. He wouldn’t look at you. “How about you?” You asked, hoping to alleviate at least some of the awful atmosphere that had begun to cloud around the two of you. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Perhaps you were being more polite about it than you should’ve. Perhaps you should’ve stormed up to him with a vengeance, demanding to know why he was suddenly ignoring you after taking your very first kiss.

But you just didn’t have the guts to do that. Not at seventeen.

“Yeah…” Hajime mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve been busy.”

You were well-aware that it wasn’t entirely a lie. He was Seijoh’s ace after all. And his studies were becoming more and more important. You knew as much.

He still wasn’t looking at you.

You bit your lip, looking down at your skirt. You took a deep breath, placing your boba on the ground next to you.

“Hey, Hajime… I think we should talk,” you swallowed, your heart stuttering in your chest. “About…”

“I know.” He cleared his throat, looking up at the sky.

“Yeah…” You braved a glance at him.

His jaw was tense, his brow furrowed in that familiar knot.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hajime?” You murmured, clenching your fists in your lap. You wanted to reach out to him, to place a comforting hand on his back. But your instincts were at war with one another, unsure of what to do.

He looked at you for the first time. There’s something like torment behind his eyes. Hopelessness, conflict, regret. It felt like something really terrible had happened – was about to happen.

It felt like your ribs were about to crack.

“Look, I…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I think it’s best if we pretend this never happened.”

The world shuttered to a stop. The mild afternoon sun was now searing your skin.

“What?”

“There’s too much that could go wrong.” His response was instantaneous – a little too quick by your count.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, twisting your skirt in your fists.

He was quiet for a long moment, still looking at the sky. “What if we broke up?”

You froze, objections dying in your throat. It was a fair question. But you weren’t sure if it was entirely relevant.

“We haven’t even given it a shot yet,” you murmured, trying to swallow down the discomfort brewing in your chest.

“And it’s best if we don’t.” His voice was firm, blunt. It’s the voice he used when trying to get through to Tooru.

Tooru…

“Did he say something to you?” You asked quietly, closing your eyes. If your brother…

“He doesn’t know.” Hajime knew exactly what you were talking about. “And it’s best if he didn’t.”

“Why not?” There’s something else brewing in your chest, not unlike indignation.

“One of the guys asked him about you,” Hajime said, his voice spread thin.

“They did?” You frowned. You knew who ‘the guys’ were. But you hadn’t spent enough time with the volleyball team for you to actually know what any of them were like. Although, you were only fixated on Hajime. That might have something to do with it.

“Yeah…” Hajime nodded. “And he was pretty mad.”

Really? Tooru had the gall to get angry at the fact a boy expressed interest in you? That’s why Hajime wanted to call this off?

“Are you scared of him?” You snapped before you could stop yourself.

He sighed. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Your response was quick, sharp, irritated. But if Hajime caught onto that, he didn’t say.

“It’s just…” He sighed. “It could get messy.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to still the barrage of questions you had. This didn’t make sense. Why would he—

“I don’t want to lose both of you.” His voice was soft, fragile. More fragile than you’ve ever heard it be.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say to that.

“What do you think he’s going to do if he thinks I’m messing around with you?”

Your chest ached. “Messing around?” The corners of your eyes were starting to sting.

“I don’t mean it like that—”

“Is that what you saw it as?”

“No.” He almost shouted that. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes. “But he will.”

You understood.

God, you understood.

Hajime was scared that you thought he was using you. That he was playing with your feelings and leading you on. Worse yet, he was frightened that Tooru would think that way, too.

Would Tooru perceive it as a betrayal? Would your relationship cause conflict in their friendship? Would you fuck everything up by getting involved?

Tooru trusted him more than anyone. You knew how much Hajime meant to him.

And you knew that Hajime wasn’t going to throw that away for a crush.

You took a deep breath. Your throat had grown painfully dry, and your stomach was starting to swell. You needed to get home.

“Alright,” you said, standing to your feet.

Hajime stared at you for a moment, a strange brew of emotions in his eyes. You didn’t have the energy to try and work them out.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi,” you mumbled, giving him a quick bow. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

He was silent for a long moment as you bent down to pick up your boba. The boba he’d bought you. He hadn’t teased you for your lack of funds today. Had that been a preemptive apology?

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally.

It didn’t feel like enough.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. You didn’t look at him as you turned around, already plotting your walk home without him. Surely he’d understand that you needed to be alone right now.

He didn’t chase after you. Not as you walked away. Not as you threw your unfinished boba into a bin. Not as you held back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, fists clenched at your sides.

A weight pressed inside your chest, something so heavy and immovable that you knew you couldn’t keep it down this time. The bitterness you’d been trying to stifle for years bled through your ribs, rippling through your body.

Tooru got everything.

He got the passion, the drive, the direction.

He got all the attention, the opportunities, the praise.

He got Hajime.

✧ ✧ ✧

The cool touch of porcelain in the pitch dark was more soothing than you’d given it credit for.

You hadn’t known what else to do. If you were in your room, chances were someone could walk in – especially if you turned all the lights off and hid under your covers.

Admittedly, hiding in the bathroom with all the lights turned off was no less suspicious. But there’s something comforting about the cold and dark. Your brother had been onto something all those years ago.

When you were younger, you’d found Tooru sitting in the bathtub, knees drawn up to his chest while he cried.

He’d been fourteen at the time. You were barely thirteen.

You hadn’t known what to do – the first thing you did was run for Hajime.

That’s what you’d always done when it came to Tooru. You always turned to Iwaizumi – without fail, that was your answer to almost every issue. It was the only thing you could think of, even to this day.

The light flickered on. You flinched, your eyes screwing shut at the sudden assault on your retinas.

Someone yelped. It wasn’t you.

You whipped your head round, squinting at him.

“What are you doing in here?” Tooru asked, face marked mainly by confusion but not without a hint of concern.

“Just… sitting,” you said, blinking a few times.

There was no way you’d tell him why you were here. Something in you felt like that’d be wrong; that, maybe, you’d be betraying Iwaizumi’s trust.  

“What happened?” Tooru asked, his voice soft and tender. He crouched down besides the bathtub, propping his elbows on the ledge.

You shook your head, looking away from him.

“You can tell me,” Tooru pouted. “Do you need me to beat someone up for you?”

“No,” you choked, cursing yourself for the crack in your voice. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

You glared at him, sniffling. God, you must look pathetic.

“Hey,” Tooru held his hands up. “I’m just being honest.”

You let out a long sigh, rolling your shoulders.

“I’m just tired,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

“You sure?” Tooru said, concern heavy in his voice. “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Tooru,” you sighed.

You couldn’t tell him. Even if he offered to support you, offered to beat up anyone who broke your heart.

Because the very person that had broken your heart was the very same boy who pulled him up off the ground. 

[opalsdarkreadings]

Bakugou, Shoto, Izuku seeing black reader with their Afro out.

//////These are personal the way a believe these characters so please don’t take offense to them! As you can see I took another form of writing this time and I can say I greatly enjoyed. If this gets enough love I might open my inbox for some request ;)/////

💥Bakugou Katsukie 💥

Bakugou isn’t good with words nor expressing himself in a friendly manner, as we all know. His first interaction with you was third to best at most. The idiot seriously needed a class in just learning basic social interactions

You came into class Afro standing proud full as you sat in front of him. He would always find himself staring at it and decided to give it a tug. Well, a tug In his eyes and full-blown pull on your end.

And when you turned back, glaring to him with eyes ablaze as smoke puffs out from your nose. He could barely get a snarky retort out before you pounced on him.

Cussing him out in names he ain’t never heard of, you taught him a very valuable life lesson. Don’t. Fuck. With. The. Fro.

You both were sent to the office and give a week of detention, but you felt you got your point across to his thick-headed ass. As you both sit in detention, he would constantly glance to you with a reddened cheek

“Damn curly head it was just a small tug..”

“And it was just my foot up yo ass.” 😤

He scoffs but after your week in detention would apologize by cooking you a Japanese traditional dish you would gladly take

“Next time you pull my hair, I’m pulling your ass.” You comment face straight as you munch at the sides

“You got lucky, and caught me off guard but next time you slap me it’s over for you.” He retorts grumbling as he stroked over his still sore cheek.

❄️Shoto Todorokie🔥

This child, pray for him. When he first saw you he was in a bit of a culture shock, his father kept him locked up most of his life so he had little interaction with other cultures. With him, he’s not rude, but he genuinely doesn’t think it’s offending. 

When you first came to class, hair was placed in your usual Afro and plucked out to give it that beautiful voluminous finished. Glistening with the moisturizer you worked tirelessly into. He was taken aback at first

“Y/n, why didn’t you do your hair

👁👄👁 “Excuse me?” You asked him. He blinks back to you and points to your fro, “I thought you did your hair?”

Chile helps him, cause you were three seconds short from sending him orbiting. Luckily he had someone that cared for him

“Todorokie, that’s just how her hair is, I-it’s very curly and puffy like that, but .......but not in a bad way!” Deku quickly defend

You rest your case and went to your seat and followed along with the rest of the class.

After his little embarrassing stunt, he had asked Deku to further teach him so he could get a better understanding of your hair. By the end of the week, he cornered you for and an official apology

“I apologize for what I said earlier, I didn’t think much of it.”

“Hmm, alright I forgive you if you hand me 50 bucks.” Smirking as you slyly folded your arms. What threw you off, was when the little shit actually handed it to you.

“I-I was playing..”

“No keep it, it’s from my father's card.”

🥦Izuku Midoriya🥦

Out of all of the three, he would be the most respectful but extremely curious about it. When you first was presented in class as the new student, his eyes were immediately glued to you. You had such an air of confidence around you it wasn’t hard for you to fit in or get acquaintance with everyone.

now what always got him in trouble, was that he constantly had an urge to touch your hair. He just wanted to stroke over the cloud that laid over you head , however each time his hand was met with a slap

You and Deku would talk and as you focused on the conversations, his attention was over your fro. Once again his hand was lodged in your hair and you had to scowl him again.

At one point you just gave up, it seemed like he wasn’t going to stop and sometimes his stroking and toying with your hair felt nice

“Mhm be lucky I combed it out well..”

“It’s so soft! How do you keep it so soft?!”

You found it cute, and a little amusing, but he had a notebook dedicated to your hair, noticing on which days it was drier and how little fly always found its way over your clothes.

Would probably recommend you keep your hair like this more often and accessorize with it

[maxbegone]

hammock

The other night @high-seas-swan and I talked a whole lot about David and Patrick and early morning cuddles on the hammock that they definitely have and then my hand slipped.

Also listen to this song and this song, two v. cozy morning tunes.

More here Ao3

-

The first time it happens, it’s a damp spring morning. The sun is cresting into their backyard, highlighting the moisture in the air. Where Patrick sits on a lounge chair cradling his first cup of tea, he’s content. The sun is warming him through his hoodie. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe in the sweet morning air, smiling gently. 

He loves mornings. He loves being up before the rest of the world where everything is quiet and it’s just him and the birds. Come springtime, once the weather warmed up and the snow is long gone, Patrick makes it a point to sit out on their back patio until David wakes up for breakfast. Which could be hours from now; David loves his sleep. All those late nights filled with nightclubs and sexual trysts he’d been told about fits in well with his night owl personality.

Granted, David doesn’t stay up until four in the morning like he claims he used to; the latest he goes to bed nowadays is closer to midnight. Patrick’s taken notice that David had begun journaling again, too, and it appears to have wormed its way into his nightly routine along with his skincare regimen. 

Patrick’s pulled pulled from his thoughts by the back door sliding open slowly. He cranes his neck over the high back of the lounge chair to see his husband, sleep-worn and rumpled all wrapped-up in the cozy grey blanket one of their vendors gifted them for the wedding. David’s hair is floppy, his eyes are a little puffy and still glazed with sleep, but he looks beautiful.

Patrick loves seeing David like this each morning. 

“You’re up way too early for David Rose.” 

David makes his way over to him with a shrug. “You were gone,” he mumbles.

Patrick continues to look up at him fondly. “Would you like me to come back to bed? Or make you breakfast?” 

David shakes his head. “No, I wanted to join you. Your side was cold.” He plops himself into Patrick’s lap, pressing his nose into his neck as he yawns. 

Patrick balances his mug on the armrest, keeping a hand on it so it doesn’t spill over. He loops an arm around David’s blanketed form and gives his cheek a light kiss.

“I have a better idea.”

David only hums.

Patrick’s lips graze the shell of his ear as he whispers, “Hammock?”

David rolls his shoulders tightly but stands. 

The hammock was a very lovely addition to their backyard - the sun hits it just perfectly throughout the day, and the shade only gets cast over it at sundown. 

Patrick steadies the netting so David can climb on. He joins a moment after and the thing rocks for a second as Patrick drapes the blanket over them both. He begins tracing patterns on David’s bare bicep who drifts back to sleep nuzzled into Patrick’s chest.

-

It’s such a cozy thing. It happens again the next sunny morning they have. Patrick assumed it would be a one-off thing, but suddenly, when they don’t have to open the store and there’s no rush for the day to begin, David is joining him outside again. 

Patrick’s the first one awake, as always, rising before seven so he can catch the sun rise over the line of trees in their yard. David joins him within the hour, again with a blanket and another cup of tea for Patrick.

He comes over bleary-eyed and looking too cuddly for his own good. Patrick just wants to kiss him, and he will. A lot. He’s going to kiss him all over his face and eyelids and jaw and neck.

“Is this going to be a thing?” Patrick asks amused and not-so-secretly hoping the answer will be yes. 

David just shrugs as he pulls the blanket tighter around himself. A hand slinks out from under the knitting for Patrick to take. He unfolds himself from the chair and lets David guide them over to their hammock. 

It continues, almost weekly, like this. Sometimes they won’t say anything while they lay together, they’ll just fall asleep to the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees and the sun kissing their skin. Sometimes Patrick will read, and David will insist he read aloud. One day it’s poetry, another it’s one of Patrick’s drier business books. David likes the rumble of Patrick’s voice in his chest where he lays his cheek.

They’re always wrapped together in the blanket, legs tangled beneath while David slips back to sleep, his lips just brazing where Patrick’s neck and collarbone meet. There are times where he lays half on top of Patrick, who keeps a hand trailing in David’s hair. He knows how much it soothes his husband. 

Patrick’s favorite things now include his husband, his husband in the morning, and mornings spent with his husband, especially on the hammock. 

[mysticm3ss]

let’s be forever [zen x fem!reader]

based on Normal Ending 2 of the April Fools DLC and also the reset theory. my interpretation of Zen’s POV during the final visual novel. enjoy~

Warnings: like one swear word. also angst but with a happy-ish ending.

Words: 1.5k

“I hope you’re not making a sad face. I’m smiling.”

It was only a half-lie, yet the words tasted bitter on Zen’s tongue. Though his lip was curled in a half-smile, the salty tears staining his cheeks and the sobs building in his throat far outweighed the acceptance he had so struggled to find.

He’d never see her.

Not her smile, her eyes, the blush in her cheeks...

The thought was more painful than a knife to the chest, but he kept a happy face. He couldn’t let her know that he was breaking apart, not now. He had to stay strong for her; had to be a rock for his princess to depend on. 

“At first, I couldn’t stand the fact that you’re in another dimension, but now I’m okay with it.”

His voice was thick with tears, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice. He would never be okay with this; never be okay knowing that he could never hold her in his arms, kiss away her tears, run his fingers along her skin.

Zen closed his eyes, hand clenching into a fist at his side. His nails dug into his palm, and the refreshing pain jerked him back to clarity. 

He could not accept this. He would not accept this.

“I know that the feelings we have towards each other can’t be trapped in any dimension. That lets me endure… all the waiting I have to do.”

Waiting.

Yes, there would be waiting; the plan slowly forming in the back of his mind could certainly never come to fruition overnight. 

But Zen would wait forever for her. Decades upon decades, centuries upon centuries, millennia upon millennia. 

He could wait. Yes, he could handle that. The only thing he could not handle was the mere notion of letting her go. Not now, not after she’d revealed that her feelings were as pure as his own, even if her answers had been predetermined. 

He would not give up.

“I love you, MC. Let’s be forever.”

He closed the app on his phone, and finally, Zen broke.

His chest heaved with painful sobs that burned his throat and stung behind his eyes. Tears marred the fair skin of his cheeks, and his hands fisted in his hair, knotting in the pale strands as he slid down the wall of his apartment. Knees to his chest, he pressed his face into his thighs, the fabric of his pants soaking up his sorrow and muffling the pitiful cries that fled his lips.

What would she say to me, right now? He half wondered. Would she hold me? Whisper comforting words? No, I should be the one comforting her… she must be hurting, too…

The very notion had another sob gasping from his throat.

“Jagiya…” he whispered, the words swallowed by his knees. “I’m coming for you. I promise.”

Zen didn’t move from his place on the floor until the clock struck midnight. Slowly, he raised his head, eyes red and puffy, cheeks tight with dried tears. 

Dammit, pull yourself together, his mind hissed. Hyun set his jaw, and sat up a little straighter, neck held high as he dared to look at his empty apartment. The empty space on the couch in which he’d longed to cuddle up with her, the empty kitchen he’d use to cook for her...

He swallowed, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodded once to himself as he tugged his phone from his pocket.

There was only one person who might believe him--one person who had dropped hint after hint in the chat room, hints that he had never quite grasped until now. One person who might actually be capable of helping.

He dialled. Held the phone up to his ear, listened as it rang. Once. Twice.

Hyun was bracing himself for the voicemail when finally-

“Zen, what the hell? It’s like, midnight.”

“Seven?” 

Zen winced at the croak of his voice and cleared his throat.

“...Zen? Are you… okay?”

Zen closed his eyes, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Listen… do you ever feel like… like something’s off? As though… maybe… we’ve done this before?”

Seven took a long moment before responding.

“What do you mean?” His tone was careful, and Zen licked his lips nervously.

“I mean… MC. Do you ever think that maybe… she’s… not exactly… here?”

A beat of silence.

“So you worked it out, huh?”

Zen’s stomach dropped. There was no pretending that this was a dream anymore, no locking away this torment in the back of his mind in the hopes that it was all just a painful misunderstanding, the ghost of a nightmare that haunted his quiet moments and taunted his sanity.

No, this was real.

“Y-yeah,” Zen managed. “How long have you known?”

“A while,” Seven murmured, and Zen’s insides twisted at the pain hidden in the redhead’s voice. Eventually, the agent forced a laugh that didn’t quite hit as genuine.

“So, at least now we can bond over our heartbreak, right?” he chuckled dryly. “And Yoosung thinks he has it bad in the love department… At least he doesn’t remember… none of them do…”

Zen had never heard humour drop from someone’s voice so quickly.

“Seven… I need your help.”

“What~? My help~?!” Seven gasped dramatically, upping his energy in typical 707-fashion; anything to repress the pain, to bury it beneath laughter and pretend that it wasn’t eating him up inside. Zen thought he understood Seven a little better, now.

He took a deep breath.

“I need you to help me… get to her. Get to her world. Or… or if that fails… see if we can bring her here. With her permission, obviously.” Zen held his breath, waiting for his friend to beat down his idea; to tell him that it was impossible, that he shouldn’t even entertain the insane notion.

“Even if it’s not forever,” Zen tacked on. “I just… I need to meet her. To… tell her thank you.”

Seven was still quiet, and Zen’s gut churned anxiously. His jaw began to ache, and he noticed he’d been clenching his teeth. He loosened, closing his eyes and focussing on his breathing--breathing that stopped at Seven’s next words.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s try.”

There it was--that flutter in his chest, the hint of brightness in his eyes, the bounce that slowly sprung back to his step:

Hope.

__________

It wasn’t until eight months later that he got the phone call.

Zen groaned, rolling over in his bed, hand fumbling for his cell as his bleary eyes barely registered the time stamped on his digital clock.

4:06am.

“Dude, what the fuck? Do you know what time it is?” he grumbled, voice thick with sleep as he pried his eyes open, stifling a yawn as he pressed himself upright. Zen stretched his neck, then his arms, holding his bicep over his face to muffle another yawn.

“I-I think I’m close, Zen.”

Seven’s voice was urgent, brimming with excitement, and Zen straightened immediately. Any lingering traces of sleep snapped away as Zen’s heart leapt to his throat.

“I’ll be right there.”

The night air whipped against Zen’s face, his hair flying out behind him as he broke god-knew how many traffic laws until he finally parked his motorcycle before Seven’s bunker. He’d spent night after tireless night here the past few months--at first, things seemed futile. But when they managed to hack into the other dimension’s version of the internet, Zen finally dared to hope that this could actually work.

He could see her--at least once.

Zen bypassed the Arabic security with relative ease; he’d come here often enough in the past few months to memorise the few phrases he’d needed to. He shoved open the door with his shoulder, hollow footsteps echoing on the floor as he barely kept himself from sprinting to the monitor room.

Seven’s amber eyes were bright, though they were weighed down by heavy bags and framed by sallow skin that hadn’t seen the sunlight (or sleep, for that matter) in at least a few days. Zen’s heart hammered frantically against his ribs, and he took a sharp breath.

Ordinarily, he was sure Seven would have given him shit--he was still in his pyjamas, for Christ’s sake--but at the moment, the two of them were too focussed on the monitors flashing with code, anticipation brewing in their shallow breaths and the hasty typing of Seven’s shaking fingers.

The two fell into a determined silence, broken only by the sharp orders the hacker fed to Zen, who followed them to the letter.

And then, Seven stopped typing, eyes wide in disbelief as they found Zen’s.

“It-it’s done. Any minute n-”

He was cut off by a flash of blue-green light bleeding from the monitor between them. Zen squinted, eyes closing against the harsh glare. As the brightness eased, he finally blinked, eyes adjusting to the newfound darkness. All he could hear was his heart thrumming in his ears, all he could feel was the burning of his lungs as he held his breath in anticipation.

His sight finally adjusted, and he felt all tension drain from his body, replaced by sweet, vitalising relief.

Hyun took a deep breath, and although his mouth was drier than cotton, the most beautiful word he knew found itself spilling from his lips;

“...MC?”

__________

hope u enjoyed, please reblog/comment if u did! xx let me know if u want a part 2, i have a few ideas!

[palindrome17]

The Flowers that Grow in the Alleyway ♔ Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: friends to lovers au (i guess), slice of life, angst, fluff

Pairing: hyunjin x reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: swearing/cursing

Synopsis: It is said that the alleyway isn’t a good place to find people, but this time is different. When a troubled boy named Hyunjin crosses paths with you, things start to look bright. However, as time passes, feelings start to emerge. Could this lead to a chaotic disaster or perhaps a magnificent beauty?

The sound of typing on a keyboard for hours upon hours was starting to give you a headache. You looked out your apartment window to see that the sky was turning a light crimson color, as the sun’s rays came through, softly lighting your room with a red/pink hue. Your eyes started to hurt from staring at a screen for hours, so you decided it was time for a break. You closed the laptop quietly and laid it down at the foot of your bed. The unusual stillness of the city was almost jarring to you. Most of the time the city is bustling and busy, but today felt rare. The calm and still atmosphere almost made you forget that life for you sucks at the moment. All of it seemed to consist of deadlines, taxes, jobs, money, and things that completely weigh you down. You glanced around at your bare room, remembering that you have little to nothing due to shortage of money. The phone beside you made a loud buzz, snapping you out of the trance. You saw that it was a message from your mother.

 Mother: It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I hope you’re doing okay. Studying must be very stressful for you but remember that getting a job that makes money is important.

 You took a long and deep sigh, as you stared at your phone. Your mother wasn’t helping your situation of feeling burdened, even if she was trying to help.

 You: Yes, mother. I understand. I meant to call you before, but things aren’t going the way I want to right now. Studying has been really stressful and-

 You paused and started to hold down the delete key. You didn’t want to show her that you couldn’t make it. Even when you were younger, people have always told you that you were a strong person. So, in return, it made you independent… and isolated.

 You: Yes, mother. I understand.

 The sound of a message sent rang clear in your room. You set down your phone on your puffy bedsheets as you rested your head against the headboard. Eyes closed as you basked in the quietness of your room, feeling the slight heat radiating from outside.

 Although not much time has passed when you heard a loud thud sound, followed by someone’s loud cursing of an array of colorful language, “Fuck! Shit! Damn!” all in that order.

 Your heart jumped from the sudden noise, as you were almost too scared to peer out your window to see who it was. You waited patiently, hoping that the person would continue to walk on. However, that wasn’t the case. It seemed like it was never the case for you. The loud noises continued as the person kept getting frustrated. What the hell is going on? You slowly got up out of your bed, curiosity slowly peaking interest. You at least wanted to know if they were okay. The crack of your window being pulled up caused the other person to suddenly stop the commotion. You stepped out onto the fire escape and peered off down to the alley; hands placed on the railing, looking at the guy from down below.

 “Um, excuse me? Are you okay?” you asked the person from below.

 You were only on the second floor of the apartment complex, so you can easily see who was making the commotion. It was a guy who seemed to be frustrated beyond belief, but as he looked up, he was startled. You noticed that his jet-black hair was awry, probably due to getting all upset. His eyes were dark like black coffee, although you could see in his eyes that he was hurting. Lips plump, almost to a pout, but turned down like he was about to cry. To you, he looked like a sad cat. The soft crimson rays turned to a light pink hue and saturated every object that it could touch, giving the boy a dim pink glow around his edges. You can only blink as you saw this hurt guy from down below, waiting for his response.

 “Fuck off! What do you want?!” he yelled up to you, obviously distressed that you witnessed him almost lose it.

 You slightly jumped due to his response, but you knew how to handle people like this, “Well I’m sorry that I just wanted to see if you were okay.” You said with a slight hint of sass in response, however not wanting to be too harsh to a guy who looked so miserable.

 The guy still had an angry demeaner plastered on his face, “The fuck you say! You don’t even know me!” he said through gritted teeth.

 You nodded in response, taking in what he said, “That’s true. But I know a hurting person when I see one. I can’t just let someone be so unhappy, even if I don’t know them.” You paused and tried to give him a reassuring smile, “I guess that’s just who I am.”

 “I don’t give a damn who you are. Mind your own business!” he spat, clearly still angry, and not wanting you to know anything about his life.

 You gave a slight sigh, this fucking guy, “If you didn’t want to talk to me, you could’ve just walked away already.” you smirked slightly, knowing damn well you’re right.

 He narrowed his eyes to you, “Don’t fucking talk to me like you know better.” He stated, but you could hear his small voice crack at the end of the sentence.

 Your expression softened as you took a small breath, “You’re right. I don’t know a damn thing.” Swinging yourself up onto the railing of the platform, “But there’s no need to be perfect, we’re all just human.” You stated with a calm tone.

 The boy frowned, “What the hell do you mean?! You know nothing! Stop trying to think you fucking know anything about me! You’re so frustrating!” his voice becoming raspier and drier with each word.

 You tilted your head slightly, “The fact that you think I’m frustrated says more about you than me, don’t you think?” You asked slowly.

 The boy then fell apart right then and there. His small whimpers echoed in the alleyway. He crumpled like paper onto the ground as he leaned against the wall, his cries getting louder. His legs pulled tightly against his chest as his hands ran through his hair. You could tell he was trying his hardest to hold back, but to no prevail. You slowly got off the railing and walked down the stairs to comfort the boy, not knowing how he’ll react. Your feet made a loud thud as you stepped on the ground, making him try to hide himself as much as possible. You looked at the crying boy in front of you and sat on the ground next to him. His cries became softer as you just sat beside him quietly. You tucked your legs to your chest and rested your chin on your knees, looking straight ahead. The sun slowly dipped down below the city buildings, the sky still stained with the light pink color.

 Breaking the silent crying, you said gently, “Life fucking sucks, don’t you think?”

 The boy raised his head as he turned to look at you, his face tear stained and eyes red, “Yeah, it really does.” He shakily replied.

 You gave him a small comforting smile, “What’s your name?”

 He gave a slight sniff and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “My name is Hyunjin.”

 “Nice to meet you, dumpster cat.” You teased, trying to make him laugh.

 Hyunjin cracked a smile, “Nice to meet you too, kitten.” he laughed.

 Ever since that day, Hyunjin walked down the alleyway to see you. You never really knew why since there was really no other reason to come this way. However, he soon became a friend of yours, something that you haven’t had in a while. It’s been a few months since the first day you met Hyunjin, and between those months there was laughter, crying, and everything else in between. Each day with Hyunjin made every day more tolerable and each day you spent with Hyunjin, he felt wanted.

➵

You were sitting in your chair at your desk, staring at your laptop with a dead expression. Studying has become more difficult for you, partly due to stress and mostly due to Hyunjin. You spent most of your time with him because he seemed to always be around with you. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just makes studying harder for you. He became someone who was important to you, nevertheless. So very important. Though, if you were completely honest, you started having feelings for him. It would never work out, you told yourself constantly, so you pushed down those feelings. Snapping out of your daze, you closed your laptop and leaned your head back, so you were looking at the ceiling. The lights of the city beamed brightly against the void of the night sky. Surprisingly you can still see the city lights through your closed blinds. You stood up and turned on your fairy lights, trying to get a night vibe as you started to play your favorite slow songs through your small speaker. Suddenly, your phone started to buzz, and you picked it up to see who it was. To no surprise, it was the devil himself. You answered the call as you put it up to your ear, the song still playing in the background.

 “Hey. What’s up?” you asked, genuinely confused why he called you.

 “Nothing much. I was wondering if um…” he paused, he seemed nervous to you, “if you would like to hang out with me tonight? Just to take a walk around the city.” He finished, saying the last few words rather quickly.

 You paced a little as you thought about it, “Are you asking me on a date then?” you teasingly asked, almost hoping Hyunjin would say yes, “Cause it sure sounds like it.”

 A long pause was received until Hyunjin finally spoke, “Do you want it to be a date?” his voice sounding sheepish to you.

 A smile pulled at your lips, “I guess so~” you replied with a slight hint of sass, you could almost feel the joy radiating on the other side of the phone.

 “Okay, it’s a date then. I’ll meet you in the alley in 10 minutes,” he spoke quickly, “kitten.” He added and hung up before you had a chance to react.

 Suddenly your face became hot. Nicknames weren’t this much of a deal to you, since you also have a nickname for him. Though, this time it felt different. All the other times it was just for fun and jokes, but this time it felt real. You quickly turned off your music as you prepared for Hyunjin to arrive. There wasn’t too much to do since you were already dressed nicely, so you decided to put on a little makeup for the time being. 10 minutes have passed as you sat on your bed, checking your phone occasionally. Unexpectedly you heard a stone being thrown at your window. It made you jump at first, but then your nerves calmed down when you realized it must be Hyunjin. This was one of several way of letting you know that it was him. This little brat could’ve texted me instead. He’s such an idiot. You thought as you quickly put on shoes and opened your window. Still not realizing that you came out, he kept throwing stones at the window. One hit you right on the arm as you closed your window.

 “Damnit, Hyunjin. I’m right here! You can stop now!” you yelled down to him.

 Hyunjin audibly dropped all the stones in hand, “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were awake.” He paused for a moment, “I could’ve texted you that I was here, but there’s no fun in that.” He laughed.

 You rolled your eyes as you came to the ground level, “My god, you are such a child sometimes, Jinnie.” You playfully added his nickname at the end.

 “Like you’re one to talk.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, “You’re just as much of a child than me!” he argued.

 You could only smile at him, “Fine, whatever you say. Let’s go while the night is still young.” you took his hand and pulled him as you stepped out into the city lights.

 You walked around the city for what seemed like hours, doing random activities when you two spotted something to do. It seemed like everything was a dream, so blissfully perfect. Utterly, stupidly, chaotically perfect. You made it to a bridge where the trees hovered over like clouds, the city lights in this part of the area were less luminated, the running stream below cooed softly, and the scarcity of people around was almost alarming. This felt uncannily perfect. Hyunjin stood right beside you as you simply stared off into the city. You let out a sigh as the wind blew the air out of you, getting lost in the feeling of complete calmness. You felt a nudge from your side as it broke you back to reality, looking at Hyunjin, you almost forgot how to speak. The low lighting made his features blend nicely, hair almost to the point of messy, and lips so irresistible it should be a crime. You had to admit, Hyunjin was so beautiful, it was an absolute mystery why he kept coming around and hanging out with someone like you. Though, everything about Hyunjin is a complete mystery.

 “Are you okay? You were just staring at me while I was talking to you.” He laughed, noticing you almost creepily stare at him.

 Your heart began to beat faster, “I’m fine! I’m sorry, its just that um…” you were at a loss of words, your mind quickly trying to find an excuse.

 “C’mon, I know what’s up.” He lightly pushed your shoulder, “I’m just too handsome that everyone seems to be distracted by me.” He gave a signature smile as he combed his hair back with his fingers.

 A laugh erupted from you, “Absolutely not.” You shook your head, “I mean, I’m not going to tell you how to view yourself, but handsome isn’t part of it.”

 Hyunjin pouted, “Why’re you so rude to me? What have I done to deserve this hate?” he whined.

 You chuckled, he’s such a child, “It’s not that I’m rude to you, it’s just how I show my affection, Jinnie.”

 “Oh, I see now. You do care about me then~” he said with a playful tone.

 You rolled your eyes and glanced down at the ground with a smile, “Idiot. I do care about you. Maybe just in a peculiar way, I suppose.” You looked back out into the city to take in the view.

 You could feel Hyunjin stare at you as he kept quiet. You always wondered what was going on in his head, because sometimes it was really questionable. You didn’t dare look back at him because you were too embarrassed to face him again.

 He finally spoke, “Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned, “I can tell something has been bothering you for the past few days. If there is anything, please tell me.” He begged in a pleading manner as he took your hand in his on the rail.

 Your heart began to sink as you tried to come up with a way to tell him, but nothing came to mind, “Honestly,” you coughed out, retreating your hand from his, “I don’t even know myself. Things have been so hard for me recently that I’ve been so worn down by trying to do good.” You fessed up, giving him almost a hauntingly calm, sad expression.

 You could tell the look on his face that he was hurt by the expression on your face and the words that were said, “You know I’m always here for you. Even if we haven’t known each other for that long,” he paused, thinking carefully about his next words, “I feel like, a connection between you and me. Like, we understand each other.”

 You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I feel the same way too. Thank you, though. I know that you’ll always be with me.” You looked back out into the city, “If we’re being honest here, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what your situation was back in the alleyway, the first day I met you. Why were you there?” you asked hesitantly as you turned towards him.

 “Well,” he started, “There has been some family issues recently, and I found out some things that I… don’t even like to think about right now.” He said slowly, glancing around as he spoke, never directly looking you in the eyes, “I stormed out of the house, not really knowing where I was going. Somehow, I ended up in your alleyway, and that’s where I was at my breaking point.” He paused and looked at you directly, “Though, it wasn’t all bad… because that’s where I found you.” Hyunjin ended as he gave you a ghost of a smile.

 Your brain couldn’t come up with any words to tell him. You were glad that he told you his problems, but did he also just tell you that he was happy to find you? Your heart almost gave out when you heard him say those words. The night air breeze went through your body as you just stood there, looking at this beautifully problematic person, as you just wanted to tell him everything you felt about him, but physically unable to tell him. The trees answered with rustling against the river’s comments. Hyunjin stared at you, looking like he was about to tear up, anticipating for a response from you.

 “Hyunjin, I’m sorry about what’s happening.” You finally spoke against the wind, “I just want you to know that I’ll never leave you, never. Not now, not ever.” You gave him your best smile in the moment.

 You could tell that gave Hyunjin a sense of relief as he relaxed a bit, though still having an aura of sadness against him. The silence between you and Hyunjin was almost frightening, however, there was a sense of relaxed serenity. You could’ve stayed in the moment forever if you could. Through all the chaos of banter, you suddenly felt a wave of tiredness. Feeling the effects of sleepiness was apparent to Hyunjin as he chuckled under his breath as you yawned and rubbed your eyes.

 “What?” you asked drowsily, “I’m just tired.” You stated as you looked at Hyunjin with sleepy eyes.

 “Do you think you can make it home?” Hyunjin asked as he took you by the arm.

 You nodded in response, trying to walk back, but tiredness caught up to you too quickly, “Jinnie. I don’t think I can walk anymore. My legs are dying out on me.” You complained as you dragged your feet.

 Hyunjin only laughed at the state you were in, which was different from what he was used to, “Here, I’ll carry you then. I’ll give you a piggyback ride~” he offered as he bent down a little, offering to carry you.

 You gave out a little giggle, “I told you. You’re definitely the child here.”

 “Do you want a ride or not? Cause I’ll just leave you here.” He jokingly replied with a wide smile.

 You pouted, “No, don’t leave me. I wanna ride.” As you jumped up on his back.

 You felt weightless as your feet lifted off the ground, it felt like you were floating. You held onto Hyunjin’s shoulders as he started to walk back to your apartment. Though, slowly getting tired, you rested your arms loosely around his neck and eyes feeling heavy like rain clouds, you leaned forward against Hyunjin’s back. The lights of the city between your dazed eyes looked like little yellow fuzzy circles, a light laugh emerged from your lips.

 Hyunjin turned his head slightly to the side, “What’s so funny back there?”

 “Just the lights. That’s all.” you mumbled as you started to close your eyes.

 You only heard an audible sigh, but you felt a smile form on Hyunjin’s lips as he continued to walk on. Eyes starting to close, you soon dozed off into a light sleep.

 You felt a slight jerk to your side as you woke up from the light nap. You looked around to see that you’re back in the alleyway, safe and sound.

 “Thank you for taking me all the way back here. You must be tired.” You looked at him while getting off his back.

 Hyunjin bent his back as he stretched, “No problem. Anything for you, kitten.” He replied with a smile.

 You let out an airy laugh, still tired, “Well, I had a really great time with you, Jinnie.” You weakly smiled back, “I suppose this is where our adventure ends, huh?”

 Hyunjin nodded solemnly, “I suppose so…” he glanced at you, then down the alley, “I guess I should be heading on then. I’ll text you when I’m safe.”

 “Please do.” you said as you ascended the stairs to your window, every so often glancing down to Hyunjin walking down the alley.

 For some reason, seeing him leave made you anxious. Maybe it was because its late, or maybe because you worry about his safety, or maybe just because you don’t want him to leave. Hyunjin looked back to give you a wave and a smile as he started to get out of range. It was late, people were sleeping, but that didn’t matter to you.

 You peered over the railing as you yelled his name, “Hyunjin! Come back here!” You soon saw Hyunjin run back down the alley as you walked down the stairs as fast as you could.

 Hyunjin arrived at the bottom of the stairs, taking a breath, as you were on the middle of the staircase, looking down at him. He looked at you concerned and confused.

 “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?!” he started walking up the staircase right up to the step below you.

 You could only feel your heart against your ribcage, your heartbeat pumping loud in your ear, “Just stay in my apartment. You have a far walk back, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” You stated as you looked at him.

 Hyunjin gave you a questionable look, “You want me to stay in your apartment, with you?” he said slowly, seeing if he understood your request correctly.

 “Yeah,” you said softly, “I just…” your mind was drawing a blank as you looked at him.

 Hyunjin smiled, “Thanks. I’ll stay for the night, I suppose.”

 You reciprocated a smile as you turned and walked back up the stairs. You could hear Hyunjin walking closely behind until you got to your window. You slid up the window as it made a loud creaking noise, your curtains swaying from the light breeze from outside. You slipped in as you quickly glanced around your room to see if there was anything embarrassing that needed to be put away before Hyunjin had a chance to make fun of you. Thank god that everything was put away, though. You exhaled happily as you heard your window being closed and shut. You turned around to see Hyunjin glancing around your room, the pale soft fairy lights of your room gave him a dark shadow with a small halo outline. Damn, why does he have to be so attractive.

 “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in your room.” Hyunjin said as he was walking around your room, looking at everything.

 You sat on your bed, “Yeah, because I didn’t have a reason for you to come in my room.” You replied as you watched him look around.

 Hyunjin smirked at you as he stood across from you, “Yeah? Maybe you should have some reasons for me to come in then.” he grabbed you chair and sat down on it.

 You knew exactly what he meant, but that wasn’t going to get under your skin, “Fuck you, Jinnie.” You laughed as you threw a pillow at him, “Don’t even think about it.” You rolled your eyes at him.

 Hyunjin caught the pillow as he hugged it, “I know, I know.” He laughed along, “Just wanted to tease you, kitten~”

 “Stop calling me that.” You gave him a look, almost sounding annoyed.

 “What… Kitten? Why? It’s adorable.” He gave you a big smile as he started to become a flirt.

 You sighed, “It’s not adorable.” you said, adjusting yourself on your bed, “Besides, don’t you have other friends to joke around with?”

 He became silent for a moment, thinking, “I do. But they’re not as fun to be around as you. I just really enjoy being around with you.” He confessed, almost shyly.

 Thank god that it was dark in your room, otherwise he would’ve seen the massive blush on your face. This was the only few times that he was almost shy to tell you things, but that made you happy to see him open up.

 “I really enjoy being around you too.” You replied with a bashful smile, “You really mean a lot to me, Hyunjin.” You admitted while looking away.

 “You mean a lot to me, too.” He smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 You had an idea as you took out your phone as you turned on your favorite slow song. The music started playing through your small speaker as you got off your bed and stood in the middle of your room. You looked to Hyunjin, making a proposal.

 “Wanna dance with me?” you asked as the song continued to play.

 He stood up and slowly walked toward you, “Of course.”

 Hyunjin took you by the waist as he hugged his arms around them, pressing you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, falling onto him. You leaned your head into his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat play along with the music, it made you calm down from the craziness of life as you held onto him. Rocking back and forth slowly, you embraced the moment you had with Hyunjin. The calmness of the music, holding Hyunjin in your arms, the stillness of the outside world, all of it seemed to be magnificently perfect. The song soon ended with its final strike of a note, though you still held onto him a little longer, not wanting to let go. A yawn escaped your lips as you felt tired, eyes feeling dense.

 Hyunjin let go as he looked at you, “You sound tired. We should probably get to bed, kitten.” He suggested as he led you back to your bed.

 You were too tired to object him as you finally felt the softness of your bed, “I told you not to call me that.” You tiredly complained to him as you crawled under the sheets.

 “Well, that’s too bad. Cause you don’t have a say on what I can call you.” He joked as he fixed the sheets on you, helping you get comfortable.

 You could only respond with a grunt as your brain started to go into auto pilot. Your sheets slowly warming your body as you felt yourself disconnect with reality. You heard the faint noises of your chair being moved closer to you, and soon you felt a soft hand being placed on yours. You then felt lips being pressed delicately against your forehead. The bed sinking slightly near the edge, you could only assume that Hyunjin was staying with you in your room. The world went dead quiet as you slowly drifted out to the sea of void.

➵

You opened your eyes to see complete whiteness surrounding you. You looked around to see if anyone is around you, but there was no one. Suddenly, a thick smoke came out of nowhere as it engulfed you into an abyss of emptiness. Your heart began racing as you looked around frantically, yelling out into the nothingness, hoping that someone could hear you.

 “Someone! Please help me!” your voice became sore and dead.

 “Anyone! Save me, please!” still, no response.

 Your eyes became watery as you were starting to lose hope. Looking around once more, you saw something in the far distance. You started to run as fast as your legs could carry you, wanting out of this nightmare. The smoke wasn’t helping your vision as you ran faster with every step, almost falling over from running so fast. The figure soon started to look like a person as you ran closer to them. You soon realize who the person was. It was Hyunjin. Relief washed over you like a river as you approached him, out of breath.

 “Hyunjin! I thought I was all alone.” You said as you looked at him with a smile.

 You then noticed that it was Hyunjin, but it wasn’t really Hyunjin. Your smile soon faded as you saw a ghost of someone you knew. He looked grey and cold as you examined him. He was looking at the ground, not even noticing you were there. You roughly grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him.

 “What’s wrong with you?! Tell me!” you screamed at him, seeing that he was not okay.

 No response.

 “Hyunjin! Please tell me something! Anything!” you continued, your voice giving out.

 He slowly looked up from the ground. His eyes were dead, his body was hollow, his hair was unkept, his skin was pale, he didn’t seem like a person.

 “It’s all over, y/n. I’m leaving you. You mean nothing to me anymore. I’m done.” He spoke meaninglessly and flat with no emotion in his voice, “Goodbye.”

 You felt your heart sink to hear those words from him. Even if it wasn’t really Hyunjin. Those words. Those dreadful words that hurt you so badly to hear from anyone. You felt all alone. You were all alone. You felt him slip from your grasp as he walked away. You could only watch in pain as he vanished from sight. Your legs bolted to the ground; you couldn’t move anymore. You didn’t want to move anymore. You fell to the ground in agony as you screamed in pain, your throat raw, tears running down your face, completely and utterly turned into nothing. This was the end for you as the smoke covered you in fear. It was over. It was all over.

➵

You sat up in a heartbeat as you let out a scream. Dripping in a cold sweat, you frantically look around to see that you’re in your bedroom. Hyunjin’s head rose quickly to look at you with concern.

 “Hey, hey! Its okay. Its okay. You’re okay!” he started to tell you, “I’m right here. Don’t worry.” He said in a calm manner, trying to get you to do the same.

 You felt tears at the brink of falling as you looked at Hyunjin, remembering the nightmare. Tears started painting down your face as you felt getting flashbacks of what happened. Hyunjin quickly embraced you as he got on the bed and let you cry into him. He gently petted your head as you let it all out.

 “I – I had a nightmare… and-” you tried to explain to Hyunjin what happened, but you simply couldn’t, your words caught in your throat.

 He simply shook his head, “You don’t have to tell me. Just calm down. I’m right here.” he whispered.

 You calmed down some as you stayed silent in Hyunjin’s arms. Not knowing if you could ever tell him what happened. The city was alive and awake outside as your room stayed completely motionless. The silent tears falling reverberated against the walls as the fairy lights were a soft pale light. You breathed out quietly as you held onto Hyunjin, not ever wanting to let go of him.

➵

The cool breeze of night air whispered through the city. The dark void of the sky looked mesmerizing against the lit-up city. The stars above mimicking the lights down below, though faintly. Only a shade or two lighter portions of the sky was the last remnant where the sun went down over the horizon. You sat on the ledge of the apartment rooftop, legs dangling down as the view of the city was passing you by. These nights were your favorite because you got to disconnect from the bustling of life. These nights were becoming rare for you because you always had other things to do. These nights, you basked in the emotions you felt. You closed your eyes, listening to everything around you. The cars on the road, the people walking along the sidewalks, music playing in bars, the smell of food rising from the vents of restaurants, city life was never boring. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket; you took it out as you saw the name on your screen. It was Hyunjin. You answered the phone, curious.

 “Hey. What’s going on?” you asked, looking around down at the city.

 “Oh, nothing much. I’m around the area and was wondering if you want to hang out again.” he sounded like he was in the streets because you heard talking in the background.

 You paused, looking around, “Sure. I’m on the roof of my apartment, so meet me there. The door should be opened, so just come in.”

 Hyunjin let out a laugh, “The roof? That seems dangerous for someone like you.” He teased.

 “Shut up, Jinnie. It’s perfectly okay.” You reassured him, “Unless you’re too much of a baby to come up here.” You challenged.

 Hyunjin scoffed, “I am not a baby!” he said defensively, “I’ll be over soon, kitten.” He hung up.

 You put your phone back in your pocket and waited for his arrival. You tried to tune into the quietness above the city, but to no prevail. The city was too loud for you to find the peacefulness you were searching for. The sound of footsteps approaching caused you to snap out of focus and quickly turn around to see that it was only Hyunjin. You loosened up a bit as he sat next to you, swinging his legs down beside yours. The silence between you and Hyunjin grew with each minute that passed.

 “Hey.” He finally spoke.

 “Hey.” You replied back, “So, what’s been going on with you today? I thought I heard some voices in the background when you called.” You asked as you looked at him.

 He gave out a light chuckle, “Oh, I was with my friends. We were all about to head back home, but I wanted to see you after we all left.” He explained, “They all were just loud and obnoxious if you ask me. They keep asking about you every time I call you.”

 You raised an eyebrow at him, “You talk about me around them?” you asked, “You better be saying good things about me!” you laughed as you lightly pushed him.

 “Of course, I do.” he laughed, “They actually want to meet you sometime. I only said yes if you were okay with it.” He gave you a hopeful smile.

 You thought about it, then smiled happily, “I’d love to meet them. I bet they’re as fun as you to be around.”

 Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I guess fun could be a word to describe them.”

 You and Hyunjin let out a loud laugh together. Being around each other never use to be this strange, however, this night felt different. As the laughter died, you could only just look at him. The smile fading as you looked back out into the city.

 “Do you remember the day I had a nightmare?” you said suddenly, almost hauntingly as you remembered the events.

 He gave you a small nod, “Yeah. Why?” he asked, placing a hand on yours.

 “You were in my nightmare, and you told me that you didn’t want me anymore. That you were leaving me.” Your heart began to run out of your chest, “That I meant nothing to you. And you left saying goodbye.” Your eyes starting to tear up, remembering the scene vividly.

 You felt his head lean on your shoulder, “Y/n, I would never leave you. You know that, right? I would never say those things to you.” He spoke tenderly, trying to comfort you, his hand holding onto yours tightly.

 You could only nod, “Yeah. I know.” You whispered, “But it still hurt to hear it, especially from you.”

 “I know, but I want you to trust me that I would never say that to you. You mean way too much for me to say those things to you.” He spoke quietly as he continued to hold your hand.

 “What do I mean to you, then?” you asked, looking down at his puffy black hair.

 Hyunjin stayed silent, “You mean so much to me that words can’t truly tell you, kitten.” He confessed, “You mean everything to me.”

 Your eyes widened as you held onto his hands. His words echoing in your head, giving you butterflies in your stomach. You never thought that Hyunjin would say those cheesy things to you, but alas, here you are.

 “Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.” You smiled as you watched the cars pass by, completely ignorant to what is happening from above.

 A silent wave washed over you are you and Hyunjin watched the city moving along. You saw life passing you by, but it didn’t matter because you had Hyunjin beside you.

 “Jinnie. Have you ever thought about the future? What it’ll hold in store. How things will change.” You asked, a memory flowing back to when you had late night talks with a friend long ago.

 “Yeah, I have. Things are crazy nowadays.” He said, lifting his head from your shoulder.

 You chuckled lightly, “Crazy is an understatement. Life just seems to be passing me by lately. Like, I have no control over any of it anymore.” You explained all the things running through your head, “Sometimes I feel like I’m just floating down the river of life, just going through the motions. Some days I think I’m just missing out on things because I’ve been caught up with so much anymore.”

 “If you think that your life is passing you by, if you think that you’re missing out on things, I think you should just take a breath.” He spoke slowly, “I’ve been feeling it too recently. But I think if you feel like its all just passing you by, lets just do things. Do the things that scare us. Do the things that make life a little more pleasant.” He looked at you with a reassuring smile, “Besides, we’re in this together.”

 You smiled and laughed, “I guess so. Thanks for the advice.” You looked him in the eyes, “How is your family issue going?”

 “It’s still a problem right now. But in all honesty,” he looked out to the city, “I think its tolerable since I have you right beside me.”

 Your heart fluttered by those words as you smiled dumbly. He was such a flirt; it was almost stupid. You followed his gaze as you exhaled softly. Moments like these, you never want to let go. It was these moments that you cherished deeply. These were the moments that meant a lifetime to you. Though, there was something pulling at your heart to do.

 “Hey, Jinnie.” You asked as you faced him.

 He looked to you, “Yeah?”

 Your heart started to hurt, throat dry, words losing meaning, “I think I like you.” You confessed, heart beating so fast you thought you’d die, “Even if I haven’t known you for too long, I don’t think I could find anyone like you.”

 He simply stared at you, but then the unimaginable happened. You soon felt soft lips pressed against yours, it was sweet like honey but meaningful. You closed your eyes, reciprocating the feelings, words started becoming meaningless, the world slowly melting away. You pulled away, breathing lightly, looking at him with surprise.

 “I think I like you too, y/n.” he spoke with a smile.

 You laughed as you pushed him, “You could’ve told me that before you kissed me! You’re such a brat!” you yelled at him.

 Hyunjin only laughed, “Just be thankful that I like you. Otherwise I could’ve pushed you off right now!” he joked, looking down to the ground.

 “I would take you down with me then!” you pouted.

 He then smiled as he hugged you, “Yeah, sure. Okay.” He rolled his eyes.

 You grabbed his arm around you, “You’re awful, Jinnie.” you whined.

 He only gave a wide smile at you before he kissed your cheek. You blushed madly as you could only try to let him go of you.

 “Get off of me, Jinnie!” you complained.

 He shook his head, “No. Not until you apologize to me!”

 You sighed, “I’m sorry that you’re such a child compared to me!” you laughed as you insulted him.

 “I am not a child!” he hugged you tighter, “You’re the one who is a child!”

 You could only smile, “You’re so cute, Jinnie.” You soon felt him let go of you as you quickly gave him a peck on the cheek.

 Hyunjin took your hand in his and laced his fingers with yours as you looked out into the city. The world oblivious of what happened on the rooftop. Though, it didn’t matter to you. This is what life’s moments were to be filled with. Even if the world was to forget about you and Hyunjin, this moment was all that mattered. You smiled as you thought back to the memories you had with this boy. This handsome, problematic boy. It has been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone, but you were happy it was him. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, locking your stare into the world below you. As you peered up into the sky, you saw the stars. They dimly twinkled as you saw them shine through the pollution of the life below. You melted into Hyunjin as you simply stayed in the moment. Everything was perfect. Through all the chaos of life, this was the moment you loved the most.

 “When the sun rises, will you still be here with me?”

 “Forever, my kitten.”

A/N:

 “The world is an insanely chaotic masterful beauty to behold. One day everything will be gone, the universe will carry on without us. The future will someday reminisce in our past, and hopefully smile thinking of us. Though, memories are who we are… and who’s to say we can’t try and live a better day.”

 Ahhhh! This is my first fanfic I’ve seriously written, and, in all honesty, it was really fun to write! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it~

 Lots of love ❤

[thesilverdragoon]

The Crystalline Mean

Previous: The Musica Universalis

Next: An Iron Grip

Wandering around for a short while around the marketplace eventually led him to the so called Spagyrics. More specifically, one of the citizens noticed him limping down the walkway, and suggested he visit the place (and even offered to walk him over there, though he declined.)

The outside of the facility looked about as plain as everything else within the Crystarium. That is to say, extremely elaborate and ornate in terms of architectural style. Or perhaps that was just the doorway. Vesevont had never been to any sort of hospital or apothecary that looked as… clean? as this place did.

Letting out a small sigh, he inhaled sharply afterwards and continued on inside, muttering to the worm. “Stay quiet.” Puffy wriggled in his chest, causing him to scrunch his face up.

Immediately an old elezen woman with gray sideswept hair and big round glasses looked up from her writing desk in the corner, standing as he came inside and moving towards him to help. “Well, here’s a new face!” She sounded pleasant, almost like a grandparent might have. “You can sit over here.”

Ves tried to wave her away, but found he actually needed the help as another pain shot through his spine. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and blinked away the small tears in the corners of his eyes. “Thank you- I… I think I pulled a muscle-” “That’ll get them every time. Always happens at precisely the wrong times. Running from an eater, squatting down at the-” “Not in my legs-” The Ishgardian sat down slowly, biting back a groan as took the weight off his feet. “My arm and my back- it shoots downwards is all-” “I see, give me a moment will you? Hanameen?? I need to fill out the log book, take this one will you??” The old woman called out, leaving Ves at the bedside as she returned to her desk. She didn’t sit down, and instead rotated her book around so that she could continue writing in it. “Name??”

Not long after came another elezen woman, much younger and with long, wavy light-brown hair and a very freckled face. “Coming, coming- Oh! Hello there!” She smiled at him. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Ves immediately felt his face grow hot, and stuffed it down as quickly as he could. “I’m uh-” “Name sir!” The old woman snapped her fingers to get Ves’ attention (which only made him even more flustered.)

“V-Vesevont, ma’am.”

“Vesevont. Sounds foreign. But if that’s your name it’s your name.”

The one named Hanameen rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t mind her, Miss Chessamile’s a fiesty one, even in her old age. It keeps things interesting around here I’d say.” She glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

Chessamile let out a short ‘hah’ at that, but smiled nonetheless. “Yes, yes I’m the babysitter, putting bandages and salves on every wound you could possibly imagine! And everyone’s better off for it aren’t they?”

“They sure are.

So then! What’s wrong? You look all right to me, no eyes missing, no guts spilling out the front, no blood?”

Ves swallowed again, his mouth feeling drier by the second. “I uh…”

“Well don’t be bashful about it! Says he pulled a muscle!” Chessamile said aloud from her desk.

The Ishgardian wanted to suck his neck into his torso to hide. His face at least.

“Pulled a muscle?” Hanameen repeated, tilting her head.

“Well I mean- I don’t really know-” Ves paused. “It’s my arm actually- I think I need a mechanic more than I need a chiurgeon-” “A chiurgeon? I wouldn’t exactly call myself that, but let’s have a looksee.” Hanameen pulled up a stool and sat beside the edge of the bed as Ves held his prosthetic out.

She took it, turning it over a few times as she gauged his reaction. “My, what a fancy looking thing this is. Are you from Eulmore?” She asked, slowly moving the arm up and down. Ves’ breath hitched, so she stopped. “I don’t remember. People have been asking me that all day long- the Exarch had me brought here from the woods outside the gates, he said-” “The Exarch??” Immediately the memory of the morning she’d seen the Exarch walking across the plaza from his tower came back as clear as day. “The Exarch ventures from the tower on a semi-regular basis- but to see him in such a hurry to be somewhere was quite odd. I remember it!

Are you a friend of his?”

“I uh-” Ves’ head went blank.

“Hanameen,” Chessamile shot a warning glance.

“Oh don’t mind it, I’m just curious is all!” The knight looked back and forth between the two woman, confused. “Uh? Why th-” “It’s an unspoken rule around the city, but seeing as you’re not from here apparently... We aren’t to question the Exarch’s personal business or relations. Out of respect mainly. While being a mysterious figure himself, the man’s done everything in our best interest here, and protected us for so long.” Chessamile explained. “It would be unwise to accidentally invoke bad luck or some sort of curse for prying. Not that that would actually happen but, you never know.”

Hanameen chuckled. “Chessamile errs on the side of caution. And for good reason. As you can probably plainly see.”

Ves tried to smile but it looked lopsided and funny. His nerves were getting to him. “Ahah…”

Puffy writhed painfully in his chest again, causing him to suddenly shudder and bend forward a bit more.

Hanameen leaned back slightly but placed her hand flat on his chest to catch him, “Are you all right???” “N-...Y-yes...” “You’re sweating.”

“A-am I-” He was.

The woman stared at him with a fair amount of concern, before going back to his prosthetic. “...If you say so…

Well… have you tried taking this off?? Perhaps the arm’s pulling on something and causing you discomfort. It might be broken. I’m no mechanic, as you so graciously pointed out earlier, but I’m sure Katliss upstairs could find someone or something for you in the meantime.”

The idea seemed so obvious. Why didn’t he think of that?”

Vesevont hummed, unsure as he reached across with his normal arm to disconnect the prosthetic. There was a sudden jolt of electricity (or so he assumed) and then a hiss as the piece detached from the port installed onto his shoulder. He set it down carefully on the bed beside him, breathing a sigh of relief.

“How about now?”

“I don’t really notice anything different.”

“Walk around for me a moment.” Hanameen instructed, standing up and moving the stool out of the way with her foot.

Ves stood up slowly, looking down at his legs as he took a few experimental steps forward.

His knees didn’t shudder, and his footfalls felt all right. His back wasn’t killing him near as much.

“Any better?”

“Yes- it has to be the arm- I probably damaged it while I was out in the woods...” He sighed, looking back towards it in dismay. “The only thing I’m worried for now is that I’ve no money to pay for repairs...”

Hanameen put a hand to her chin in thought. “I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. We may be able to find someone to take pity on you and do it for a reduced price, or for free. You’ll have to hash out the details.

Do you know where to find the Crystalline Mean?”

Ves scratched at his face with a finger, “I’m afraid not.”

“Here, I’ll walk you there then. It’s just upstairs, and the stairs, lucky us, are right next to the Spagyrics.  It’ll take only a minute.”

“Only a minute!” Chessamile repeated. “Famous last words.”

Hanameen ignored her and moved over towards the doorway to wait, with Ves trailing behind her like some pitiful looking stray. “We’ll be back!” She called out, before leading him away.

As they turned left to walk towards the iron stairwell leading upwards, Ves looked back several times. “...You were right, she’s a spitfire.”

“I told you! She can take care of herself, certainly.

So what happened in the woods?”

“Pardon?”

“You know, before the Exarch came out to meet you.”

“OH- oh-” At that point Ves was hardly sure if he should share or not.

...It would probably be all right.

“Well- I was stumbling down the path, completely lost, when I ran into one of the Crystarium’s patrol groups- the ones with the blue scarves?” “Those are the Lakeland guards. They’re stationed outside at Fort Jobb and watch the roads. My two sons’ father is with their unit.”

“Oh?” Ves’ ears perked up. “Oh- I see.

Anyhow, I had run into them and ...Captain Lyna?? The viera??” Hanameen raised a brow and paused at the top of the first set of stairs. “The what??”

“...The viera?” “What’s that?”

Ves stood still, mid-step. “...You know… the ears?” He raised his hand and motioned above his head.

“You mean Viis?”

“I thought her name was Lyna-” “No, no, Captain Lyna is a Viis. You know, with the,” Hanameen mimicked his motion with both her hands above her own head.

“...OH- oh-” “Viera… what a strange word. Do you have words for the others as well?”

“I mean- maybe??” Ves huffed. The stairs just kept on going.

“Well- what are we called then?” Hanameen asked, continuing on.

“Elezen.”

She laughed in disbelief. “Elezen?? Now I’m really curious as to where you’re from.”

“Well what are we called then? Here??” “Elves.” “...Elves? And you think elezen is ridiculous?”

“A little bit!”

By the time they had reached the top of the final stairwell, Ves was out of breath. Though he’d at least learned several new words by then.

Hanameen seemed perfectly fine. “Goodness, look at you. Do they have stairs where you’re from I wonder?” Ves’ brows furrowed once he caught his breath. “It’s been a very long several days, I’ll have you know. I have no idea where I am, or how I even got here. I think I’ve a right to be tired after three entire stairwells.” He hadn’t gone up that many stairs in a while, truthfully. But he wasn’t about to admit that.

Not to mention, carrying the prosthetic only added to everything, as it was a bit on the heavy side (and this was the lighter model, Mei had said...)

“Don’t remember, and why is that?” Hanameen asked, hands at her hips.

“Pixies.”

“Pixies? You came from Il Mheg?”

“I think so… I just woke up in a field of flowers and managed to find my way to the forest outside the city.”

“Well that explains it. They’re tricksy little things, pixies. You’d do well to stay away from there in the future, lest you be forgetting everything you’ve just learned today!

Anyway, here we are, you see that terrace over there?” Hanameen walked a few paces away from the stairs and pointed straight ahead. “That’s the Crystalline Mean. Many of the city’s crafters gather here and set up shop, if you will.”

Ves frowned as he raised his brows, scanning the area jam packed with said craftsman and all their...crafts. And things. There were entire stations set up and dedicated to every sort of thing he could possibly imagine. Where would he even start?

“...Overwhelming isn’t it?”

“...Yes.” Hanameen sighed through her nose, “Come on. I’ll introduce you.

...Come on!!”

Ves shook himself out of whatever intimidated trance he’d fallen into and quickly went after her.

“Katliss!!” The woman raised an arm in greeting as they approached another elezen- or elf woman in a leather tunic and a hat with goggles standing at a wooden counter.

“Hanameen! ...You never come up here. What do you need?” Katliss asked, sizing up Vesevont from her spot. “Newcomer?”

“Yes, his prosthetic is damaged. He came in complaining about muscular pain, but I think we figured out that it was his arm causing that.”

Katliss sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly. “That’ll do it. Can’t say I’ve seen any prosthetics of that make before. That’s quite a fancy piece of equipment you’ve got there.” Not to mention his coat. “Eulmoran?” “I don’t know.” Ves answered flatly.

“Pixies got to him.” Katliss cringed and sucked her teeth. “Ooh. That’s a shame. Well, I can find someone to look at it for you if you’ll give me a moment. From that slack-jawed look on your face I take it you don’t have a method of payment either huh?”

Ves’ ears turned bright red again. “...No. I don’t.” The woman laughed. “We’ll figure it out. Come on then! I’ll take him off your hands Hana.”

Hanameen smiled, “Thanks.

Well it was nice meeting you Vesevont! Try not to pull anything else while you’re here.”

Ves sputtered and squinted at her as Katliss took the prosthetic from him. Hanameen waved at him several times before leaving back to the stairs.

The knight let out a low ‘hmmm’ as they moved further into the terrace in search of a mechanic.

“Are those that work in the Spagyrics normally that… well not standoffish but-” “Sarcastic? A bite to their humor? Absolutely. With how many people come in day in and day out, dying or otherwise, I’d imagine you’d have to be in order to keep your head intact.”

“Mm...” That much he could understand.

[zweiginator]

Good Company- Part Seven

read the other parts here

Summary: After an unexpected bout of morning sickness, the possibility of pregnancy causes untold feelings to bubble to the surface.

Word Count: 6.4k+

Warnings: ANGST, some cuteness and extreme jealousy

Brian sat on his knees behind you, pulling your hair behind you shoulders. His fingertips were warm against the back of your neck which was veiled in a wash of cold sweat. Your skin was blanched; it was as if your veins were sucked dry from any blood, but your tongue felt drier, and unthinkably heavy in your mouth, which tasted of bile--acidic and bitter at the back of your raw throat. Your hands shook against the edges of the small trash bin you had pulled from underneath your cluttered desk. Brian’s keys had fallen from the wooden tabletop of it, and the jagged edges of his house and car keys poked against your knees.

“Brian, pick your keys up.” You lifted your head and turned around to see Brian’s eyebrows knitted together, worried-looking even though the dark hairs pointed in every direction, a side-effect from sleeping on his face. Some drool was dried on his cheek, which he covertly picked off with a painted nail. His eyes were droopy and puffy, his straightly pointed eyelashes only accentuating the sleepiness that bled into wide yawns and heavy eyelids.

“Sorry, do you--” He rubbed his temple, scooting forward so his outstretched fingers ghosted over your waist. “Do you need some water? Do you feel sick?” He shook his head, his curls swaying away from his face, brushing against his chin, darkened by a shadow of stubble. “Of course you feel sick, but do you know why? Did you eat something?”

You flinched away from his touch, grasping his fingers and tearing them away from your skin, even though his calloused digits brought you a deep, indescribable warmth and comfort that your body was craving. “How am I supposed to know, Brian?” You snapped at him, regretting it as soon as the words left your mouth--serrated and impertinent and stinging in Brian’s ears which were already ringing and pounding from his hangover.

“Do you need to go see a doctor?” He crossed his arms, suddenly more sullen but still worried about your well-being. His hand hovered over your lower back, and you felt his sniffling breaths fan over the nape of your neck. He wanted to smooth your hair down and pull your back flush against his chest--but he refrained, opting instead to feed into the resounding silence that pervaded the room, lit by the amber afterglow of the sunrise.

“I’m not seeing a doctor, Brian.” You scoffed, tying your hair back with a rubber band that hung around your wrist, a little sore from Brian’s head resting on it for the entirety of the night, which only made you more annoyed at him and his presence in general. “I’m fine, we all get sick sometimes.” You knew this wasn’t normal; none of the circumstances in your life were. It was almost scary how not sick you felt; it was more like a dull ache in the pit of your stomach, like you just had to rid yourself of toxins and that was that.

“Okay!” Brian stood up, grabbing his keys from the bed where he had set them before, twirling them between his fingers nervously. “I’m just concerned. Excuse me for caring.” His tone had a bite to it you had never heard from him before. When you turned around, he was pulling his socks on; you could tell they were on inside-out but you didn’t say anything.

“You’re just so clingy and overbearing lately! Why would you come here when you know we’re supposed to keep our relationship under wraps? You’re always whining about something, Brian. Always.”

Brian pulled his button-up over his shoulders and lined up the two sides, fastening the buttons quickly. The shirt was taut over his torso; Deaky must have washed it incorrectly, so he left a few buttons undone as he lifted his hips to slip his trousers over his semi-numb legs. “What the fuck do I have to do with any of this? Why are you twisting my caring about you into something I’m flawed with?”

“So you’re perfect, Brian?” You rolled your eyes and straightened some makeup on your desk, focusing intently on a tube of deep red lipstick so you didn’t have to watch Brian’s eyes grow darker, more intense, more attractive. Everything he did drove you crazy and you didn’t want to cave, even though you knew this argument was unwarranted and completely immature.

“Now you’re putting words into my bloody mouth, Y/N. Never did I say that!” He sighed from deep in his chest and you finally turned around, meeting his almost bronzed eyes, framed by dark lashes that extended around them. His jaw was tensed, spasming as he crossed his arms. “You’re projecting something onto me, you can tell me what’s wrong. You know that, right?”

Tongue in cheek, you sat down at your desk chair, the leather sticking to the backs of your thighs as you lifted them to cross them over each other. “Projecting? Really? Stop with the smart-boy psychological lingo, Brian. You’re so annoying.”

“Annoying?” He lowered his voice, realizing how early it was, and then how disruptive you both were being to your roommates, who he desperately wanted approval from. “I’m annoying because I asked you if you were okay after you threw up just now?”

He was right; you were being irrational. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was irking you, tugging on your metaphorical leash that was choked around your neck, suffocating you. And it wasn’t that he was being clingy or overbearing as you said; it was simply because you loved him more than you could even fathom. He permeated your thoughts like a pungent smell among a crowded room. But it was a beautiful scent; a buttery vanilla that was easy to take in, impossible to stop thinking about, and ever so pleasant. It scared you how easily you had fallen in love with him; every other time you had felt anything even remotely comparable to these warm, all-consuming feelings you had for Brian, you had had to work at it, to convince yourself you were in love, as if you thought you loved them enough, it would act as a placebo, your body following along with your thoroughly tricked mind. But with Brian, it was too natural, the way you meshed with him effortlessly. He was able to say whatever he wanted to you, and you felt the same; you had spent many nights tipsy on wine on your couch, weaving through embarrassing childhood memories to repressed traumas. You had seen him cry, shoulders heaving, sobs choked, eyes glassy. You’d never done that with Roger, not in the year--over a year--that you had been with him. And it scared you that the mere blossom, the root of a tiny tendril of your relationship had your heart skipping a beat when his fingers twirled with your own, or his knees nudged against yours.

“You’re just--” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms, biting your lip. Your mouth had an insipidly bitter taste to it, and you swallowed, grimacing as it slid down your raw throat. “You’re always here. With me.”

“But I’m not!” He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, before he dropped to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands in his own much larger, much warmer ones. His thumbs rubbed over the back of your hands, tracing over the tendons, feathered over with blue pebbled skin. You were shivering, and Brian wanted to cover you with a blanket, but tears were beginning to prick at your eyes and he decided it might not have been the best time. “I’m not here that much. I don’t see you much at all and not to sound cocky, but you say you miss me just as much as I say it to you!” He bit the inside of his cheek, sighing as you looked down at your feet. “Plus, you just said you wanted us to tell Roger. And now you’re back to keeping it on the down-low?”

You sniffled, wiping your tears away with your hand, hating yourself for manipulating Brian’s feelings like this, but you couldn’t stop, it was a commandeering force that maneuvered you in the opposite direction you wanted to be going in. “I changed my mind, Brian.” You fixed your posture, feeling nauseous again, but you suppressed the feeling, focusing on a breathing pattern you remembered Brian taught you. It made you mad almost, how he had such a tight hold on you; he was always with you in some odd indirectly confusing way that was oppressively uncomfortable, although it wasn’t really his fault in the slightest. But in a way, you wanted the chase. You wanted to know you were--wanted. You needed him to miss you; you yearned to keep him guessing, no matter how hurtful and awful that sounded, and you wondered if Roger’s coquettish nature blighted your ability to trust--to love.

“I don’t get you, Y/N.” His chest was blotched a deep, almost violent red, his cheeks wet with a coat of sweat that seeped into the tears spilling down the soft skin. He slung his coat over his arm, squeezing his keys hard enough so that you could see the veins pulsing in his forearms and down his agile fingers. He was seething with anger, but he kept himself collected, tensing his jaw repeatedly, to the point that it locked for a second. He brought his hand to the protruding bone, massaging the skin as he stepped closer to you, close enough so you saw the speckles of amber and deep greens marbled in his honey eyes. You could see his tanned skin, smooth and pebbled with the beginnings of a new beard. “Last night you insisted on fucking me in the bathroom; you told me sneaking around was hot. Then I come over and you’re fine with it, cuddling with me and telling me we should be public; and now you’re saying I’m annoying and that you can’t stand me being with you all the time?”

You were silent, swirling your tongue around a piece of skin you had bit from your bottom lip, the bitter taste of blood relieving you of the putrid taste in your mouth.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He zipped his coat up, grabbing a clean tissue from your desk, leaning over you for a split second. The mere shadow of him made your heartbeat quicken, and you shifted uncomfortably in the red leather chair, pulling your knees to your chest. “We need to talk when you’re up for it.” He padded quietly out of your bedroom, and you heard the almost imperceptible sound of your usually clamorous front door clicking shut a minute later.

__

“What was that all about?” Alice peeked into your room, yawning into her tightened fist. Jenny pushed the door open wider, the waves of her chocolatey brown hair making the tears pool in your eyes, red around the rims and irritated from the salty pang.

“What’s wrong? Or should we leave you be?” Jenny pointed a thumb out the door; they were both only halfway inside of your room, wrapped together in a sky blue blanket which had a perpetual home on the living room couch.

“No, no come in.” You moved to your bed, laying down as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“We heard Brian--” Alice faltered, looking over at Jenny who sat at the foot of your bed as your other roommate plopped on the chair you were just sat in, her fingers mindlessly playing with the brass studs that kept the leather tight across the seat. “Yelling.” Jenny finished. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

“You’d be surprised by a lot of things with him.” You tucked some of your hair behind your ear and sat up, leaning against the headboard. The pillow next to you had a few of Brian’s shedded hairs, deep brown against the white pillow case and tightly coiled. Your voice cracked as you began to cry again. “He’s just,” You began. “He’s just always there. He never leaves.”

“What do you mean?” Alice leaned forward, crossing her hands over her lap. “Where did that even come from?”

“He’s not clingy. He just--” You swallowed. “He’s always in my thoughts; I mean he’s done so much for me and every time I stop thinking about him I think about how I stopped thinking about him, you know?”

They furrowed their eyebrows and looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders, their hair falling behind their shoulders simultaneously.

“And it isn’t a bad thing really.” You sniffled and sat up straighter. “I love thinking about him; Brian’s great. In every single way, he’s great. I mean there isn’t really a single flaw that’s actually truly a flaw.” You knew they didn’t understand; you couldn’t even decipher your feelings; it felt like an outside force was shoving words into your mouth and watching them tumble out, non-cohesive and intelligible. “It’s just like, he’s too perfect. And I fell in love too easily, and too quickly. There has to be a catch.”

“There is a catch, though?” Jenny handed you a tissue. “You dated his best friend for a year. That’s the catch.”

“No.” You shook your head, blowing your nose briefly. “I meant, with him. And his personality. It’s just too good to be true. I mean, look at him!”

He wasn’t there, of course, but you needed to make your point, whatever that was. You held a finger up and leaned over to reach into a small drawer on the side of your desk. You sifted through half-empty perfume bottles and tangled necklaces, finding a wide polaroid picture of Brian, the night he took you to the dilapidated barn to stargaze. He sat on the uneven wooden panels at the edge of the barn, his feet poked through a jagged hole in the side of the building, so his feet rested on the grass, still frozen-over from winter’s toll. He was leaning on his hands; the veins in his arms were prominent, his cheeks a deep red-violet, partially from the frigid temperature outside, but mostly from fervid kisses. His shirt was unbuttoned, but he wore a velvet blazer over it, and you could see his collarbones poking from skin marked by your lipstick. His hair was soaked through from the rain, his smile lazy and crooked, his eyes semi-closed from the flash. You held the photograph to your chest, and your roommates pried it from your grip, wanting to see for themselves.

“It has always been Brian, Y/N.” Jenny grinned at the picture, wiping a dust particle from the glossy surface.

“What do you mean?” You took the photo back, tracing your finger across his forehead--as if that would be comforting. Instead, it only emphasized that he wasn’t there.

“I mean, yeah you dated Roger, but Brian was always the one for you. You and him always clung to each other; every one noticed. I mean, at concerts, you always stood on Brian’s side of the stage and you never really looked at Roger’s playing.” Alice commented, raising an eyebrow, poking your nose lightly.

“The guitar--”

“The guitar is better my arse. You’ve seen hundreds of girls drool over Roger and those drums. They find their favorite boy and cling to them. That was always Brian for you.” Jenny stood up from the bed, opening another drawer, a wider one that extended across the desk. It held a few photo albums; you had had a phase of photographing Queen’s gigs at the beginning of your and Roger’s relationship, and it had lasted for a good seven months. “Flip through these albums and show me one photo that isn’t focused on Brian.”

You yanked the leather bound album from her hands, the thick ivory ribbon becoming untied as you pulled at it. “He’s at the front of the stage!”

“So is Freddie. So is John.”  They added. “Listen, we’re not judging you; Brian is a great guy. He’s hot and you’re right--he doesn’t really have a discernible flaw about him. Roger knew you loved him from the beginning; but you didn’t.”

“You guys are just like him!” You dropped the album on your bed, hitting your head against the headboard as you crossed your arms, uncrossing them as soon as you remembered Brian had done the same before he stormed out. “Always pointing some shit out about my unconscious or whatever. I loved Roger!”

“Why does it matter if you loved Brian while you were with Roger though?” Alice grabbed your ankles, leaning forward to emphasize her point. “You’re with Brian now! You can say if you loved him before, but you’re not because you’re scared.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Jenny acted as the mediator, nodding at Alice’s words but defending you nonetheless. “I just--we just--don’t want you to sabotage this relationship because of whatever you’re feeling right now.”

You inhaled deeply. “Maybe it’s just because I’m sick. I should probably just sleep it off. Plus, I think my period should be starting pretty soon, too.”

“You’re sick? Since when?” Alice felt your forehead, handing you a glass of water as an offering.

“Just this morning, I don’t know--” You grabbed the sheets, and a static grey fizzled in your ears, becoming a deeper, charcoal ember that burned through your arms and legs and ignited in your stomach. You felt as if you were burning from the inside out, and you gulped the water down quickly, slamming the cup back down onto the desk. “Oh my God.”

“Do you think you might be?” Jenny flipped through a small calendar that hung on your bedroom door, her fingers hovering over the square designated for a Friday, circled in red, the eighth of March. It was the seventeenth.  

__

Brian trudged through makeshift mountains of melting snow, the ice soft and pliable against his shoes. His socks were soaked through with frigid water and he could barely feel his feet as he pushed through a wave of tourists, hugging his arms to his chest in an attempt to make himself at least partially warm. He couldn’t stop thinking about you--about what had happened. He had walked past his flat almost six times and was opting to walk in circles around the vicinity of his home instead of actually going inside; he wasn’t ready to face any of them--especially Roger. He knew that even if by some off-chance they all didn’t know about you and him, that Brian’s reddened nose and tear-stained cheeks would give it all away. Brian was excessively predictable now that he was with you; his emotions were almost tangible--he never held back anymore. You made him unafraid to cry, to laugh, to joke, to be angry. And he was always someone who cried into his pillow or plastered on a fake smile even if he was seething under the seemingly tranquil surface of himself. Brian stood in front of the apartment building, shaking his shoes off on the limestone steps. A few teenage girls walked past him, giggling with each other, their arms linked as they watched Brian take his clogs off to pour the icy water out of them. He shrugged his shoulders and gave them a tight-lipped smile.

“Oi! Brian get up here! We’ve seen you walk around the bloody block for an hour now!” Roger yelled out of his third-story window, his arms crossed against his chest. He was wearing a hoodie of Deaky’s and some loose boxers. His hair was a dirty blond from the winter, and fell in loose waves around his face. He moved his arms so they were extended, and he gripped the window pane, cocking his head as a signal for Brian to come up. A few strangers had stopped to look at the exchange, and Brian was embarrassed at Roger’s utter lack of care; he would say or do anything without even batting his oddly large eyes.

Freddie came up behind Roger and rolled his eyes as he nursed a small cup of tea. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and sighed. “Brian, sweetie. We know what you did, so let’s talk about it!” He set the cup down on the windowsill and Roger grabbed it, shoving it back into Freddie’s hand.

“Don’t put it there, you imbecile.” Roger shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

Freddie scoffed. “Don’t be a dick, Rog.”

“Stop it!” Brian craned his neck and shushed them. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“This isn’t all about you, Brian. My God; you’re forgetting that I dated her for over a fucking year!” Roger pointed to himself, digging the tip of his pointer finger into his sternum as he leaned further out of the window.

“Christ, Roger get inside!” Freddie pulled his hood and yanked him back.

Brian shoved his numb feet back into his shoes and climbed up the steps, pulling the heavy oak door open with such force that it slammed against the doorframe as the wind blew it closed. Long strides took him to the third floor within thirty seconds. Deaky must have watched him run inside; he heard the lock click as soon as his heels clicked upon the floor on the other side of the door.

“Please be civilized.” Deaky ushered Brian inside, where Roger sat on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table as he pretended to be focusing on a black-and-white movie that was playing at a staticky low volume. Brian peeled his socks off and pushed past Freddie to get to his room.

“Where are you going? We have to talk about this!” Roger yelled, leaning forward to project his voice as Brian got further and further away.

“Can I change my fucking socks?” Brian sat on his bed and pulled on some thicker, woolen socks that were bunched together at the foot of his bed, which looked much more cluttered than he remembered leaving it. His drawers were all opened and his books were piled on the floor. His lamp was teetering on the edge of his bedside table and mounds of dirty clothes were scattered in islands across the expanse of the room.

“I have a question for you, Brian.” Roger was being passive aggressive, giving Brian the most sweetly facetious smile he had ever seen. “Why do you have multiple pairs of Y/N’s knickers in your drawer?”

Brian stood up, bending down to put the sea of clothes scattered around the floor in the laundry basket by his bed. “And why are you looking through my room?” He countered.

“You didn’t come home last night!”

“So that means you can search through my personal belongings? Explain that to me, Rog. I’m having trouble finding the logic here.” Brian popped his jaw, raising his eyebrows at the blond, who stood at his doorway.

Roger was silent; he knew he was wrong, but he would have rather broken both of his femurs himself than admit to Brian that he was mistaken.

Brian opted to break the silence, digging through the top drawer of his dresser, where he found a pair of your underwear; they had black lace along the hem and were silky against Brian’s thawing fingers. “Why do I have these, you’re asking?” Brian found another pair, holding those up as well, but these were white, cotton ones, and Roger’s heart felt heavy and dejected in his chest. He had never seen you wearing any cheap underwear; you must have trusted Brian more, must have been monumentally more comfortable with him. “Y/N and I are together, Roger. You’ve had to know this for months. But you’re dragging it on and on and on, and for what?”

Roger began to speak, but Brian cut him off, pushing himself off of his bed to stand in front of him. “You fucked up, Roger. You cheated. You flirted with other girls. You broke her trust. This isn’t my fault. It’s not my fault I’m in love with her. It’s not my fault--”

Roger pulled at his hair, leaning forward enough so Brian could smell his breath; it was a mixture of peppermint and beer. “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re just her rebound? That she’s using you because I fucked up and she just wants to make me fucking suffer?” Roger was crying now, and beads of his spit flew upon Brian’s chin. “Because I’ve never felt fucking worse! I love her! I was going to ask her to marry me--”

“No you weren’t!” Brian ran a hand through his hair and pushed Roger’s chest so he wasn’t so close; Brian’s breaths were becoming shallower and his head was light--too light--so light, that he had to sit back down on his bed and rest his head in his hands. “You would never marry her. You can’t commit for shit! You fucking cheated!”

“I know I did! I know--” Roger pulled the hoodie over his head, leaving him in a thin t-shirt. “I was thinking about it. And you promised me you wouldn’t date her. You said it to my fucking face and then you did it. Just to spite me.”

“Just to spite you?!” Brian laid down across the bed and hugged a pillow to his chest. “Falling in love with her isn’t to spite you! This isn’t about you--her and me.”

“You know, Brian, you always act like you’re the sensitive sweet one, but you’re a fucking dick! As soon as I was happy with her you always had to butt in and flirt with her and be all charming and bat your eyes and be the good guy!” Roger spat. The veins in his neck were pulsing, angry and blue beneath the perspiring skin. “I’ve always been jealous of you, Brian. Maybe I can get the sex, but you’ve always taken the good ones. You’ve always gotten whatever you wanted at the end of the day!”

“Why are you always victimizing yourself! You’re not fucking jealous of me; that’s a blatant lie, Roger.” Brian threw his pillow against his headboard and kicked some textbooks across the floor. “I’ve worked hard for what I have, Rog! And Y/N isn’t property! If she wanted you back you would be with her right now, and I would be back to wishing I were you, like I did for fourteen fucking months. I loved her since before you even spoke a sentence to her, and you knew that.”

“How would I know that?” He slammed the door shut as Deaky and Freddie appeared there, and the sonic boom echoed throughout the flat. “I can’t detect your feelings!”

“You just said I flirted and was charming! I don’t do that to every bloody girl I meet,  unlike you!” Brian’s voice was cracking, and he took a sip of stale water from a plastic cup by his bed, wincing at the chemical aftertaste it left on his tongue. “Y/N and I are fighting anyway. You should be ecstatic to know that.”

Roger was tired of screaming too, and he sat on Brian’s bed, nudging his shins so he would make enough room for the smaller man. “What are you fighting about?” Roger rolled his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning it against the wall. His adams apple bobbed along the column of his throat as he awaited Brian’s less-than-eager response.

“She got sick this morning, and I asked her if she was okay and she just got pissed at me and called me annoying and clingy. I’m not quite sure.”

“Brutal.” Roger smirked but bit his lip to stifle the laugh that was creeping up his sorely abused throat. “What kind of sick? Did you guys get shitfaced last night?”

“That’s the thing.” The air was calmer now, and the blood in their ears had settled; their faces were only partially flushed instead of feverish and red all over. “I did, but she didn’t drink anything--not that I know of. She just threw up this morning.”

“Oh, fuck.” Roger pinched the bridge of his nose as a knock sounded at the front door. Roger and Brian heard hushed hellos and the rustling of your winter coat, an occasional sniffle.

“They’re both in Bri’s room.” Deaky’s voice was muffled by the door that acted as a partition between you and the two people you wanted to see most--and least--in the world. Roger bit his lip; he wasn’t ready to see you and Brian in the same position you and him were in only months before. He had done nothing but think about the prospect of you in his arms, of you kissing his temple, your fingers running through his hair. Of his best friend’s hands running down your chest as he kissed your neck. And now, with the possibility that you were carrying Brian’s baby, he was livid. He picked up a heavy physics book that was obscured halfway underneath Brian’s bed as you walked in, shutting the door swiftly behind you.

“Roger!” You yanked his arm back as he was about to throw the book at Brian’s face; it was at least five pounds, dog-eared and yellowed at the edges. You remembered seeing Brian hunched over the same book the first time you came over to see Roger, how your stomach felt as if the paper-thin wings of a million butterflies were beating against it. You felt your heartbeat hammer against your chest, and it even felt as if your lungs were beating against your ribcage as you climbed onto Brian’s bed and grabbed his cheeks, sticky from dried tears, kissing his mouth firmly. Brian turned his cheek, and you held his chin--stippled with rough stubble--and tilted his face towards your own.

“I’m sorry, bub.” you peppered soft kisses on his jaw and he sniffled, his hands ghosting over your waist. “I’m sorry for calling you annoying. For pushing you away.”

Roger cleared his throat, wondering if this was how Brian felt when you and him were dating; like an unseen spector watching his dreams vicariously from afar. “Are you pregnant, Y/N?” He kicked a pair of Brian’s trousers underneath his bed.

“I don’t know.” You didn’t; but you had bought a pregnancy test in a small convenience store a block south from their flat, and it sat in your purse, immense and massively heavy although it couldn’t weigh more than a couple ounces. You fished it from your bag and unraveled it from the small plastic sack it was sheathed in.

Brian gulped. “If you are, then it could be--”

Roger shook his head and heaved out a choked sigh. “No! It would have to be mine, right?”

“Not necessarily.” You mumbled and read the fine-print instructions on the box of the test.

“You--” Roger scoffed and cracked his knuckles one by one as he hovered over the bed where you and Brian sat. “You didn’t let me--until almost six months in!”

You were livid, that Roger was continuing to make this about himself, and in the most selfish and irrelevant of ways. “You’re mad because I let Brian do that earlier than I did with you? That’s why you’re mad right now?”

“Do you want me to be pissed about something else, then?” He asked, his blue eyes a stormy navy, speckled with charcoal greys that radiated seething anger. “Maybe the fact that you moved on so quickly from me? That you fucked my best friend and now you’re supposedly in love and possibly pregnant with his--or my--child?” He was screaming, and his voice sounded like someone had scratched a machete over his vocal chords.

“It’s probably not your fucking baby!” You shoved him away and got up, grabbing the pregnancy test and locking yourself in the closet-sized bathroom across the hall. The mirror was fogged from Roger’s earlier shower, and you felt nauseous smelling his aftershave, when at one point it would have made you utterly weak at the knees. There were four personalities shoved into the tiny space, in the form of four types of hair products and four scents of colognes. But they each shared the same toothpaste and they each left the bathroom a complete mess. Your fingers trembled as you took out the test and assembled the odd contraption; you had never had a pregnancy scare when you were with Roger, so you didn’t really know what to do.

You heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, and Brian’s even softer voice, as his head rested against the cracked wood. “Can I wait here?” His voice cracked, and you heard labored breaths fanning through the tiny crack where the door met the frame, which was a tad too wide.

“Brian, please come inside.” You blew your nose in some toilet paper and closed your legs, feeling colossally vulnerable; your pants were pooled around your ankles, you wore no makeup, and your hair was frizzy from the wind and the cool mist that sprinkled outside.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled, his hand splayed across the door. You could hear the soft tinkle of his pinky ring against the hollow wood. You nodded--then remembered he couldn’t see you.

“Yes, please come in. I need you.”

A smile tugged at Brian’s cheeks at those three words, almost more than when you said a different trio, I love you. You needed him and he needed you; you two were each others’ complement, a symbiotic pair that couldn’t be separated by Roger’s discontent, nor the daunting possibility of a baby. Brian wasn’t even reluctant to admit Roger was right as he opened the door to the bathroom and leaned his back against it. You were always his love, even if it were platonic for over a year. Always.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Brian bent down in front of the toilet and took your hands. Your eyes were averted to the pregnancy test that sat on the counter, by the half-used roll of toilet paper that Roger was forever too lazy to put on the holder.

“I’m scared.” You squeezed his hands, tracing your thumbs over the veins that fed into each other beneath the soft skin. You could feel his pulse racing at his wrist, and you sighed. “You are too, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“What if I am?” You let go of his right hand and took the test into your own hand, realizing that that plastic contraption would literally predict your future.

“Then we’ll figure it out.” He was genuine; his teeth poked out from between his lips and his eyes crinkled, his nose widening and cheeks lifting. “I promise, I’m not leaving.”

“What if I am, and it’s Roger’s?” Brian’s grip tightened at the mention of his name, and you felt terrible that you had rendered their once trusting friendship into the mere smithereens of acquaintanceship.

“Then we’ll figure that out too.” He pressed a kiss to your hand. “Now, I don’t mean to be pushy, but I feel like I may throw up, so let’s take the test and get it over with, yeah?”

“Okay, okay.” It was a bit uncomfortable, holding one of Brian’s hands as you peed into a plastic cup.

Brian squinted at the instructions, holding his other hand out. “Give me the cup.”  

“You want to handle my cup of pee? I can do it.” You rolled your eyes and he blushed, taking it from you.

“What? I’m a scientist. This is kind of like a mini lab, you could say.”  He took the small plastic dropper from the kit and dipped it in the cup.

“You’re a nerd.” You kissed his forehead as he used the dropper to put some liquid into the odd contraption that sat by the sink. “How long does it take?” He was trembling with nerves as he washed his hands, you even more nervous, pulling your jeans up your legs.

“Two hours.”

Brian didn’t want to leave the bathroom until a conclusive answer had been found, and neither did you. “Then I guess we’ll need to distract ourselves for a couple of hours.”

Brian nodded and held a finger up, giggling as he pulled a deck of cards from underneath the sink. They were dog-eared and water-stained, but still readable, although the ink had bled through each card just a little bit.

“Why do you have cards under the sink?”

“Kind of funny,” He shuffled the cards expertly as he leaned against the door, trying not to look at the test that sat--idle and untouched--so close to you both. “I used to come in here and play solitaire when you came over. I didn’t want to hear you and Roger.”

You closed the lid to the toilet and sat down, smiling at the innocence of the prospect. “Were we that loud?”

“No, and it wasn’t just sex.” He said, sitting down on the ledge of the bathtub. “I didn’t want to hear any of it; I wanted you so bad. I would come in here and play and listen to music for hours. Sometimes I would fall asleep in here. You reached forward and touched his knee, remembering a time you had sleepily walked to the bathroom while you stayed the night in Roger’s room and found Brian asleep against the wall, his mouth parted as he snored softly. You recalled leading him back to his room and covering him with a soft blanket and feeling guilty when you kissed his forehead.

__

“Has it been two hours?” You dealt the cards out for what was probably the twentieth time, handing Brian his stack.

“A little over, actually.”

You and him had been talking mindlessly for the entirety of the waiting period, your knees touching as you used them as a makeshift table for your game. “Should we look?”

“I can’t do it.” He shook his head, intertwining his fingers as he looked at his lap.

You stood up halfway, just enough to see inside of the plastic box where the reaction had been taking place for the past 120-something minutes.

“Are you?” Brian mustered, standing up and wiping his clammy palms on his jeans.

“No. I’m not.” You felt a pang of emptiness as you said it, even though you were nowhere near old enough to have a child; even though the negative implications of being pregnant greatly outweighed the positives.

“Oh. Okay.” Brian glanced at the kit, to confirm to himself that it was, in fact, negative. It was.

“Are you alright, Brian?” He looked pale, and thoroughly disappointed.

“Is it weird that I wish you were pregnant?” His eyebrows knitted together as he shoved the cards back into the box, unlocking the bathroom door. “With my baby of course.” He added, as if that would soften the blow.

__

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[bananashemmo]

Ghost Of You

Pairing: Y/N/Luke

Rating: PG-All

Request: No

Words: 2.500+

Summary: Going through the loss of his girlfriend, Luke doesn’t know how he’s going to live through his life without her by his side. His life feels empty, and no matter where he looks he sees her in his reflection and every small bit of the house they used to live in together. 

Tired eyes blinking slowly and dried lips parted. The worst cocktail from waking up in a place that wasn’t as homely as the best, neither as great as under the warm sheets.

The truth was, the sheets weren’t warm. Far from it, they felt cold and even with a hot long body like his, he couldn’t keep himself warm. There was no source of heat left in his body to carry all the empty thoughts and hole hearted feelings.

He could easily just rest on the orange towel on Miami beach and still not feel celsius plus degrees. Nothing left to carry above the freezing point.

His cheek felt numb and he had no idea for how long he had been staying in the same position.

A bit of dew formed almost diagonally on the small window to the balcony door. It was still open ajar, Luke barely remembered the moment he had opened it last time.

He wasn’t even sure if it was last night. His phone was out of battery and he was going through the days without time in his life. The only source of help was from the sun or the moon.

He was sitting in the only spot of the room without piles of clothes. The light grey carpet could barely be seen. Someone almost had to believe the unwashed clothes were a colorful carpet.

His socks were removed from his feet, something he mostly had done in his sleep because of habit when sleeping. He looked at the small scar on the skin from when he had accidentally dropped Calum’s bass on his feet.

His guitar had almost been left untouched. Something that bored a deep hole in his heart, but he just couldn’t himself to play.

After the third try and dropping the guitar picks into the hole he had given up.

It was like a sign that he shouldn’t even give it a try.

A small curl was falling in front of his face but he looked through it. His hair had grown long and he usually wore a hair tie around his wrist but he had lost it without memory of where.

He wasn’t sure why he had fallen asleep leaning against the balcony door on the floor. But one thing was for sure, he slept just as bad as he did when he was sleeping alone in the bed.

Standing up his legs felt like jelly. He could barely stand on his feet and his eyes spaced out for a minute. Whether it was from the bad sleeping position or just the fact he hadn’t been drinking water or eating for almost over a day, he didn’t know.

Mainly it was a combination of both.

He touched the sheets between his calloused fingers, eyes glancing towards the two pillows. Someone would see it as a benefit having something of two, but Luke still couldn’t touch the left side of the bed without feeling uncomfortable and misplaced.

What is she came back? What would she say if he had been sleeping in her side of the bed this whole time?

There was a thought behind their positions in the bed. She wanted the view from the balcony and Luke just wanted the view of her.

But none of that worked now. The only thing he would be staring at when resting on the right side of the bed would be his reflection in the mirrors attached to his closet.

He barely wanted to look over his shoulder because when his eyes were closed she was still there.

Laughing at his jokes, recording him when he was making random noises in his sleep and holding around his waist when he wanted to be the little spoon.

Her magazines were still scattered in a mess in the drawer below her nightstand. A glass of water was half filled or half empty. A bit of stain from her NYX lipstick was still seen. But it fainted away every day.

He was tired of hearing that he needed to clean away. But who told someone to clean away all the memories that made living possible?

His shirt hadn’t been cleaned for god knows how long and a large stain of Cocio was on his thigh. His grey Nike trainers could almost stand up without the support of his legs.

He told himself repeatedly because that was what everyone told him.

He would be just fine.

He could be standing in this bedroom for ours wanting to rewind back. But somehow something always came in the way of pulling him away from his dream.

Life was just a nightmare.

Leaning down as he exhaled deeply he tried doing just what everyone had told him. Trying to clean out to finally move on.

He tried to remove a few shirts that he had scattered on the floor in an attempt of putting them into a cleaning basket.

But every time just the touch of the fabric brought him back to her.

The smell of her perfume was gone, he had considered just using the one she used because it was still in the bathroom.

Right next to his.

In the middle of all the mess, he could point out a shirt that no matter how many times he looked at it gave him goosebumps down his spine. It was just the small Z that gave him the anxiety he had been trying to push away the last weeks, days, hours and seconds.

It was a simple Zeppelin shirt and there was nothing special about it. It wasn’t a shirt he had owned and passed it to her, it wasn’t something she had slept in as a nightshirt. It was just a random shirt just like the accident happening that day.

She didn’t want to wear it and had scattered it right to the floor. She had done that multiple times, not wanting to wear it on the current day because it didn’t fit well with her hairstyle.

But sometimes he just wished that she had worn it that day. Saving time and preventing the future from happening.

Exhaling quickly he looked into the mirror again and saw nothing else but darkness in his face.

He couldn’t just stand here and do this. He still needed the stuff to be scattered. Nothing in the room needed to change even though he felt the pressure to do it.

He considered just going right back to the position by the balcony door or even trying to cuddle under the sheets

His direction turned to something else.

It was a tempting choice, he had been standing in a torn position whether he had wanted to do this or not. It was either that or the blood leaking from his scalp from how many times he had been wanting to pull his hair out in depression and frustration.

He still hadn’t figured out a way to handle his emotions. Not even help could try to satisfy his needs.

His hand was shaking once he reached over into one of the cupboards hanging next to the sink mirror. No matter what room he went into in the house he wanted to pull his hair out.

Something as simple as hair shampoo, conditioner, blow drier. Makeup scattered in a mess in her makeup bag, her purple toothpaste right next to his red one, a little bit of stain from a mascara on the mirror.

Every single bit was a memory, what was nothing turned into everything.

Grabbing what he needed and plugged it in he took one glance at his mirror reflection.

He looked down at his wrist shaking but for once he did something he felt was what he was guided to do.

His hand was shaking when he grabbed the first curl by his ear, watching it slowly fall off and into the sink instead. Already by that, his shaking went from the hand and to his whole body.

Continuing the path he tried his best to avoid the curls on the top, not wanting to erase everything on his head but just the strands that made him feel stuck.

He made sure that everything around his head was gone, not completely bald but with a little bit of stubble on it. He could barely recognize himself in the mirror and he almost wanted to step back and look away.

He ran a hand through the rest of his hair, still able to make a small quiff that was almost flat and out of character because of his curls.

“I wish you were here to help me.” He almost lost it by feeling so miserable, letting go of the razer machine and rested his hands on the sink.

“I’ve never felt as alone as I feel now.”

Blinking twice trying to get a tear away he looked into his mirror reflection and felt his heart skip a beat.

With the small shadow behind him, he felt his lips tremble, his hand shaking even more than before and his mouth getting dry by the sight of her.

“Y/N?” He almost couldn’t get the name out loud, he had avoided saying it fearing of breakdown.

There was everything about her that he missed. Her beautiful hair, her eyes shining up at him and her soft hand coming up to his shoulder to show her comfort.

He was completely sure he was seeing things, he knew this wasn’t real but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, he wanted it to last for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry I cut my hair,” He whispered in a cry, “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

She shook her head in agreement, smiling carefully at him but he could also tell that she was feeling sad inside because of how he was feeling. She was always this empathic towards everyone.

His eyes were becoming red just like the blush on his cheeks and he could feel how his knees were shaking.

He didn’t want to break down, not when she was seeing him like this.

“I know I always had to be the man... But I can’t be a man to myself when I don’t have you around.”

She nodded her head in understanding and carefully took his hand.

It felt almost like a feather but he could the sparkle inside. It was like butterflies erupting in his stomach and he followed her out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the living room.

In the middle of everything she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck instead.

He looked confused at first but when she slowly rocked back and forth as much as she could despite the size and height difference.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and shut his eyes, letting all his emotions getting out at once.

He cried for god knows how long, feeling how every single tear in his body was ready to float out. He could feel it in the eyes, how they were getting puffy and heavy but for once he felt that he could get it all out at once.

Just to feel her and let all the emotions float together lifted a rock from his heart and his shoulders.

The smell of her hair, the feeling of her touch and just the small smile she had on her face while swinging him around. He wanted to remember this moment forever because it was at that moment he felt that it was just okay to feel like this.

He wanted to ask her a million questions, he wanted to beg for her to stay and do everything he could just to have a small day with her. “I know the feeling of this is killing you inside.”

She said something for the first time and while continuing to swing around he looked down at her. She leaned up on her toes to remove a tear from running down his cheek.

“But always remember this, Luke... My love.” She pressed her cheek against his to whisper;

“I will always love you and be by your side. You can always close your eyes and see me.”

She knew it wasn’t the same but on the other hand, it was also true.

“I know this is going to be a hell. I know this isn’t going to be alright already but I just want to let you know one thing.”

He looked down at her, “What?”

“It’s always okay not to be okay. And this takes time. You just have to accept it. Don’t just move on like everyone says. But accept, that you’re allowed to be sad, you’re allowed to cry and you’re allowed to cry out your feelings. I know you say you aren’t strong but you are. Because every time you feel alone you just have to close your eyes and think of me. Just like you’re doing now.”

All the words coming from her mouth made him want to shake, even more, it felt as if he wasn’t breathing but he nodded his head. What she was saying was so true.

“I love you so much it hurts.” He whispered and pressed his lips against her forehead.

“I love you too Luke. You’ve always taken care of me. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

He nodded his head in agreement, eyes closed and his mind going through everything and nothing at the same time.

Opening his eyes slowly he looked out of the window that had the sun streaming in through the trees down by the sea. He could hear the waves crash ashore, it was distant but he could hear it almost like he was sitting in it.

His home phone calling was what brought him out of his thoughts.

Looking at the phone number he could already tell who it was.

“Hey man, it’s Ashton. I hope I didn’t wake you up and I know it’s early.”

“Hey bro,” Luke leaned his head to the side to have the phone between his shoulder and ear. He leaned down to grab the picture frame resting next to the answering machine.

“No, it’s okay. I was up.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Luke could har Ashton puzzle around over the phone. He was stumbling through his words.

“Luke, I know I’ve tried it many times and I know you still don’t want to leave the house or anything but I just thought we could meet up at the records and just talk you know... Screw it, I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“No, no it’s completely fine.” Luke nodded his head in agreement even though Ashton wasn’t able to see him through the phone.

“You sure? Because we don’t necessarily have to record something we can basically just chill in the studio and eat take out.”

“I’m completely sure.” Luke looked down at the photo frame with his thumb caressing the glass. An old picture of him and Y/N.

“We’re going to write a song.”

[diinofayce]

Like A Whisper In The Night - 16

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (Layne Hardin) | Word Count: 2,144 | Warnings: Angst, Angsty-fluff, implied smut, drugs and alcohol mentions, mentions of torture, language | A/N: This is a little bit of a filler chapter to help round out the series to end on a nice even 20 chapters. Inspiration was taken from Gasoline by Halsey | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Layne laid in her bed staring up at her ceiling. She had told Bucky she just needed some time alone to grieve and promised that she would be fine. He hadn’t wanted to leave her alone, but respected her wishes and reluctantly kissed her softly in the threshold of her room before letting the door separate them. She changed into cotton pajama shorts and a worn Megadeth t-shirt that was thinned with age and riddled with holes. One leg was twisted in her orange comforter that smelled so strongly of Bucky from when he stayed in her room while she was gone, the other dangling off the side of her bed swinging softly. Layne had tried opening up her balcony door to let the night air breeze in, but even that didn’t help to settle her thoughts.

Her mind was like a bull in a china shop, cramped and raging and confused and lost and breaking every. Damn. Thing. Around. It. Layne groaned in frustration and tangled her fingers roughly in her hair, tugging sharply until her scalp tingled in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut forcefully, willing her brain to just shut off and go to sleep. She didn’t want to think about Danny, she didn’t want to think about her parents, she didn’t want to think about Ava List or Hydra or the things she did…was forced to do…no…did willingly so that she wouldn’t be beat anymore. FRIDAY and everyone else in the tower may call her Agent Hardin, but she was anything but a real agent. She wasn’t a soldier, or a super spy, or in any way able to keep any semblance of composure under duress. Layne begged and she pleaded and she cried and it didn’t matter, so she killed for them because then the pain stopped and that’s what kept her up at night.

The Avengers put everyone before themselves else time and time again. Steve almost dies on a daily basis just so someone else will be safe. Layne felt a scream settled in her chest, begging to tear out of her throat, but she swallowed it down. She let out a soft growl, as if trying to placate the urge to just scream herself to sleep and when that didn’t work she swung both her legs out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, Layne was satisfied to see the hospital gown still hanging in front of her mirror, the last thing she wanted to look at was the darkness she couldn’t stop seeing in her eyes.

Layne knew Bucky drank through most of her reserves while she had been kidnapped, but she was pretty sure in thinking that one bottle would be safe. Reaching into the cabinet under the sink, she pushed the cleaning supplies out of the way and pressed her hand against the back wall. The false back fell away and Layne came out with an expensive bottle of champagne, she had nicked it from one of Tony’s fancy parties and had been saving it for a special occasion. Sitting on the lip of her bathtub she ripped the foil off and carefully twisted off the wire cage. Pointing the cork away from her she hit the neck with palm of her hand once, twice, three times and the cork flew out of the neck with a loud pop, foam flowing freely from the bottle and splashing across her feet and tile. Layne ran her tongue up the side of the bottle, sucking the foam into her mouth and took one deep swallow. Her cheeks pushed out from her mouth being full of the expensive champagne, she looked at the label and then immediately leaned over and spit the alcohol into the toilet. Layne let out a heavy groan and before she could change her mind, dropped the bottle - mouth down - into the toilet.

Layne dug back into her little secret hiding hole and came out with a mason jar stuffed with laundry dryer sheets. Opening the lid she pulled the sheets out and chucked them in the trash before pulling out a little baggie of marijuana and some rolling papers. She pulled this jar out only in emergencies, when sleep just evaded her all night. Layne got her stock from one of the bartenders at the little dive bar she played at some Wednesdays. Opening the baggie, she stuck her fingers in and pulled a little bud out rolling it carefully between her thumb and pointer finger. The batch was about three weeks old now and was drier than the desert, the whole baggie was nothing more than ditch weed at this point. Sighing she crumbled it apart and spread it in a thin line on a paper, rolling it tightly and licking it closed. Layne placed the joint between her lips, flicked her lighter alive and paused with the flame raised. She suddenly threw the lighter with a yell out of the bathroom where it hit the far wall and fell to the floor with a clatter, she removed the joint from her mouth and held it gently between her pointer and middle finger. Layne watched the little joint shake in her quaking hands before she crumpled it in her fist with a growl and deposited the ball of paper and green into the sink.

Layne couldn’t get her brain to stop, flipping through the faces and memories of the girls from the bunker. Her feet moved on their own and with each step a name and face came to her.

Sarah. Porcelain skin, blond, mascara down her face. A memory of sitting on a floor surrounded by books with an orange kitten in her lap.

Cora. A beautiful lanky girl with dark, flawless skin. Brown doe eyes and soft curly hair that was matted with blood. A memory of her dancing in the club with her friends before the cute boy she had been flirting with had drug her out into the alley and into a van.

A small girl with fiery red hair, blue eyes, and freckles for days. The Avengers had concluded her ID to be fake so she probably wasn’t old enough to get into the bar. All Layne knew about the girl was a memory of her laying in bed with a beautiful woman, their naked limbs tangled as the morning sun brushed over her lover’s face. ‘I love you’ they whispered to each other as the memory was sliced by Layne ripping the girl’s soul from her body.

When Layne’s feet stopped moving it took her a moment to realize she was outside Bucky’s door. She took a shaky breath to calm her nerves before raising her hand and knocking softly. It didn’t even take ten seconds for Bucky to whip the door open wide, his hair tangled and the bags under his eyes puffy and dark. Layne winced and looked down at her toes, her hands rubbing up and down her arms.

“I’m not fine,” Layne whispered desperately before she was engulfed by Bucky’s arms. As soon as his scent engulfed her the sob tore from her throat and Bucky was picking her up and carrying her into his room, closing the door behind him with his foot.

Bucky set Layne down in the mound of pillows and the comforter of his bed and crawled in next to her, pulling the comforter up over the both of them and pulled her tight to his chest. Bucky kissed the top of her head softly, humming an old tune from the thirties, and rubbed his hand up and down her spine letting her cry herself out into his shirt. Their legs tangled together as Layne tightened her grip on his shirt and just came apart in his arms. Everything from the last few weeks just came pounding down on her and she felt her chest constricting and it was becoming harder to suck in air between her sobs.

Bucky pulled back slightly and tipped Layne’s chin up to look at him. “Hey. You’re panicking and I need you to breath, doll. Look at me, breath with me.” Bucky over-exaggerated his breathing to make it easy for Layne to match.

Layne locked gaze with Bucky, his icy blue gaze cutting through all the ghosts in her brain like a hot knife, her breath coming back to her in between soft hiccups. Bucky reached up and swiped the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks to swipe away her tears and Layne turned her head to kiss his vibranium palm, a small loving smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose and she gave a watery giggle.

“No one expects you to be okay, Layne,” Bucky finally whispered, afraid for some reason to talk too loud.

Layne broke his gaze and looked down to fiddle with the V of Bucky’s shirt. “I just…I don’t know how to compartmentalize this. I don’t know how to accept what has happened and just move on.”

Bucky reached out slowly and softly tucked hair out of the way of the enhancer and it’s little spinning gears, making a mental note to ask Tony about creating some sort of covering or something for it. He raked his stormy eyes over her face, down the the soft slope of her nose to her lips that were red and raw from her chewing on them. “Show them to me,” he demanded softly and Layne’s caramel eyes flicked up to his with fear and confusion.

“What?” she gasped softly, not understanding his request.

“Let me compartmentalize them for you. There is nothing you could show me that would make me look at you any different, that would change how I feel about you,” Bucky assured, pressing a kiss softly to her forehead.

Layne shook her head. “How is it you feel about me?”

Bucky licked his lips and searched her eyes as if he could find the words he wanted in them. “I feel like I need you because you keep me calm and grounded. I spent so long under Steve’s shadow with him trying to protect me, having you around has given me a weird sense of purpose. I feel terrified because you keep yourself standing against these walls you’ve built and I’m afraid that you don’t actually need me like I hope you do. I feel like I could be falling in love with you and I’m worried after all of this is said and done you’re going to want to leave.”

The raw honesty that poured from Bucky made Layne’s heart speed up and the breath to freeze in her lungs. “That…is a lot of feeling.” Layne finally responded. Her eyes searched Bucky’s face and caught him trying to brace himself for her rejection, for her to run. “I’m afraid that I’m going to let all my walls down and let you in and you’re going to see how much work I am and not want anything to do with it. That you’re going to wipe your hands of me and walk away and I’m going to have to rebuild. I’m afraid of falling in love with you because every version of love that I have experienced has been so warped and twisted that I’m not sure I know what it even is. I feel like a fucking hurricane and I don’t want to destroy you.”

“Each love is different. We can figure ours out as we go, that’s okay. Just know that you aren’t in this alone, if you need to just get the stuff beating you up in your head out…I’m here for you. I want to help. You can’t destroy me, I’m pretty damn resilient,” Bucky promised, nuzzling her nose with his.

Layne pressed her lips against Bucky’s. It started slow and soft, her tears still drying on her cheeks, but it turned hungry and desperate quickly. Layne’s fingers drifted lower and slipped between Bucky’s shirt and skin, her finger tips tracing the hard planes of his abs. Bucky’s hands settled firmly on Layne’s hips, pulling her close against him, his need growing and pressing into her stomach. Layne needed him, needed the distraction of his touch, of his taste. If she overfilled her senses on Bucky then maybe everything else would just quiet down.

Bucky was not unaware to Layne’s strategy, but as more clothing was pulled off and hands got a little more adventurous Bucky gave into what Layne was desperately telling him she needed. He knew she would talk to him when she was ready, just like she came to him when she was ready. Bucky would always wait for Layne because knew how exhausting it was to run.

NEXT CHAPTER

[baekhyuns-abs]

Tainted Fear

(gif not mine credit to the owner)

This is vampire Joonmyeon and his own Slave To Pleasure spinoff. When a girl saw Dinner and the gifs that came along with it I couldn’t stop myself. This idea just hit me like a slap on the clit face.  (this takes place before Slave to Pleasure) Sexual content.

“You need to relax.” Yifan announced boldly. Joonmyeon ran his hands over his face, distraught and irritated. “No, no, no, Yifan, n--” “When was the last time you had a good fuck?” Yifan sat on his office chair leisurely lifting his feet onto his creaky desk. Joonmyeon rolled his soft red eyes and shook his head. “I'm not dignifying that question with an answer.” Yifan smirked. “C’mon.” “I'm quite fine.” Joonmyeon insisted. “Luhan stole your last one, your favourite one I believe.” Yifan looked all too happy at the prospect. “So it must be a while.” “I don't have favourites.” He replied swiftly. Yifan brushed him off quickly, ignoring his argument as if he hadn’t even spoken. “There's some new ones that I've recruited, one I think you'll like--” “You know I hate this business, I've never indulged in this and I won't start now.” Joonmyeon snapped, standing from his chair. Yifan lowered his feet, standing and circling his desk to face his stubborn brother. A cunning look was sent Joonmyeon’s way as Yifan pulled back the curtain on his private booth. Joonmyeon watched as a girl no older than 20 quivered at the sudden reveal. She had large doe eyes that swam with fear and apprehension. Her small, tiny form looked lost on the lush satin sheets of Yifan’s personal booth. Her scent was delicious and her skin so soft as porcelain it made Joonmyeon’s mouth dry. She looked from vampire to vampire her breath baited with what was to happen. Her fear shook the atmosphere and it made Joonmyeon want to taint her fear with something much more sinful. Yifan knew him well; too well. “You always had a weakness for the frail ones.” Yifan drawled. “You haven't had one like this in a few good decades, you'd be stupid to turn this one down.” He was smug, his tone laced with smug truth. Joonmyeon heard her heartbeat just that little bit faster and his throat burned, it burned like it hadn't had blood in weeks. “She's a virgin too.” Yifan continued patronisingly. Nothing could save Joonmyeon at that moment, his core pulsed with need and the sound of her heart and the deepness of her breaths made his throat drier by the second. His eyes scanned her body, the loose fitting white gown reflecting her innocence and her young age, her disheveled hair, freshly washed but not brushed and her small round face. “I’ll have one of the maids bring her to the manor--” “No!” Joonmyeon forced himself to protest, he had to, for his own moral standing - he had to try. “-- All primmed and ready--” “Alright.” Joonmyeon glared at him, conceding. “You set it up - set it up exactly how I like it to be.” “It was good doing business with you, my friend.” Yifan smiled ~~~ Joonmyeon trudged back to the manor with a frustrated scowl on his face. The knocked out fisherman he dragged with him by the collar of his shirt hopefully enough to sate his hunger and his frustration for the time being. “Are you sharing?” Chanyeol passed him on his way to his office looking gleeful at his master’s meal. “Go and hunt your own. You still need practice.” Joonmyeon shot back ignoring his huff. Joonmyeon shut himself in his office, he started for the long table in front of his roaring fireplace and he tossed his prey atop of it like he weighed nothing but a feather. He pulled some anesthesia from his stash and injected it into the human’s bloodstream keeping him under. Joonmyeon had a long life, he was the best of the best, not like the elders he had crossed back when he was a youngling, but he was still extremely experienced. He hunted differently than the rest, he didn’t need that much blood like the rest, he was the second oldest vampire in their house. He didn’t bite into his victims - unless it was sex -, he liked to savior their livelihood, keep them alive as long as he could so their blood stayed rich. Dead blood was bad blood. He hung his velvet red blazer over his office chair and pulled a glass from his cabinet, his small blade clinking against the glass. He walked to his meal and pushing his jacket up his arm he pressed the small sharp blade to the side of his wrist. He caught the blood in his glass and raised it to his lips. The red thick liquid was bland and sharp but he drank it nevertheless.  Footsteps behind his door caught his attention and he turned. Zitao opened the door confidently and smiled at Joonmyeon. “This is for you.” The young vampire stepped aside and Joonmyeon could smell her before he saw her. He heard the tremble of fear in her heart and the strong scent of fear in the air. He took another gulp of his blood and he watched with a predatory gaze as his present walked in with alarm written clear on her soft features. Her lip was pouted and Joonmyeon couldn’t wait to suck it. She was without her scarce lacy lingerie Yifan had decorated her with she now wore an elegant dark green gown that had a tempting slit from her hip to the floor. Zitao pushed her inside gently and closed the door. A velvet choker was snug around her neck and the neckline of her dress was generous around the curves of her breasts. Joonmyeon’s throat began to feel scratchy. She stood almost shaking as she was left alone with the handsome vampire she had been given to. Her eyes drifted to the softly breathing man on the table to the glass in his hand filled with what she could only assume was with blood. Her heart lurched to her throat and her fists clenched at her sides. “Why are you scared?” She had heard him speak earlier, when he argued on the other side of the curtain of where she sat panicked in the office of the tall vampire. But it sounded different now, more lucious and deeper, dangerous as he drank the warm blood. She moistened her lips. “I… I don’t want to die…” It was a croak, it was almost inaudible and Joonmyeon just caught it. Joonmyeon rested his glass on the table, his head tilting and a small smile appearing on his face. “Who said anything about you dying?” She gulped and she looked to the floor unable to meet his coy red eyes. “Isn’t that what you do...?” “Sometimes.” She nodded silently and Joonmyeon licked the corner of his mouth. “Come here.” She looked up at him and her heart picked up speed. Joonmyeon had to root himself in his place to save the girl more terror at his monstorous nature. “Now.” His voice was a little firmer. She lifted her heavy feet and padded over to him slowly and she could barely breathe as she stood in front of him, a meter from him. She knew it could have been worse, she had heard the other girls in the whore house complain about ugly human pigs that couldn’t give them anything in return for their gross sex. Joonmyeon was a vampire, he had to know things and he certainly wasn’t ugly. But there was another vampire she had heard of in this house, he was supposedly the nicest but she held her breath reminding herself - it could be worse. “Closer.” Her bottom lip trembled and she blinked away the tears as she did so, her steps small as she came to him. She stood her breasts to his chest, almost touching, a whisper away. Joonmyeon looked down at her, his red eyes sharpening as her studied her face up close, pleased. Her hair had been wrapped up messily in an updo, some of the strands falling to her cheeks. Joonmyeon lifted a finger, twirling them in his fingers. She tensed with the proximity and the coldness of his skin as it whispered against her cheek. “Have you ever been kissed?” He asked. She couldn’t look away from his face. “No…” She husked. Joonmyeon’s eyes darkened and his hand slipped to the nape of her neck, drawing her in closer making her shiver. He dipped his head and she didn’t dare to blink as he closed his cold lips over hers. Her eyes fell closed at the feeling and she felt her knees tremble as his hot tongue ran through the seam of her lips. The sensation was strange but not unwelcome and she felt herself reacting to it, surprising herself. Joonmyeon hungirly kissed her lips, both hands sinking into her hair, pulling apart the up do uncaringly. He pulled her hair, making her arch against him as he deepened the kiss, pressing their bodies together. She was warm, hot energy against him and he wanted more. She felt dazed, as she tried to kiss him with as much passion as she could muster. Her made her mewl in her throat and her cheeks flared with embarrassment; she made that sound, she didn’t know she could. Her legs were useless when she felt the sharpness of his protruding fangs against her exploring tongue. She felt them next on her bottom lip and she gasped a the sharp prick of pain as they broke the skin effortlessly. The bittersweet taste of blood touched his tongue and Joonmyeon groaned. The noise created a wave of liquid heat spread down to abdomen. His lips closed over the wounds and he sucked lavishly on her rich blood. Pain melted into numb pleasure as she moaned wistfully in his iron grip. Joonmyeon detached himself from her mouth, licking away the remaining blood that oozed from her puffy delicious lip. He let her hair go and with hooded eyes she watched as he picked her up in his strong arms. Her surroundings blurred as she was taken from the room, through a door next to a bookshelf to his bed. She lay still on the white satin sheets as her vampire stood above her, his expression thoughtful with wicked desire. He kept her dress on, running his hand up her leg exposed by the revealing slit. She shivered at his breathtaking cold touch. Her arousal hung air in the air and Joonmyeon was delighted. She wore no underwear and it was easy to push her legs apart to feel her wetness on her inner thighs. “Still scared?” He asked as he pushed her dress up her body. He hovered over the lower half of her body and her face was red hot as his face was directly over her exposed heat. She itched to cover herself, shy and uncomfortable but his look kept her still under him. She bit down on her finger and shook her head unable to find the words to speak.   Joonmyeon bent down and when he opened his mouth she saw a glimpse of his threatening canines. “Good girl.” He licked her inner thigh and all her breath left her in a rush. His hand travelled down the expanse of her skin between her legs till it reached her soaked core. Her breath got caught in her throat as his finger drifted against her slit slowly, making her shake at the rush of new sensations that hit her brain. Her eyes wide and her mouth open he found her clit, the bundle of nerves quivering at his cold touch. His finger traced her entrance delicately and she subconsciously bucked her hips to his hand, her body becoming a slave to his touch. A loud mewl left her throat as his finger pressed tightly against her walls, pumping in and out of her slowly. “Shit.” He muttered against her thigh feeling just how tight she really was. He bit down on her inner thigh, unable to stop himself and her legs stiffened around his shoulders. He carried on fingering her as blood poured into his mouth. She felt the stabbing pain in her thigh and she cried out, her hands fisting the pillow. She felt the pleasure of his pumping fingers and the sucking numbing pain of his mouth attached to her leg and all of it together was intense. She couldn’t find the humiliation anymore when she screamed not even when she felt the best pleasure in the world rock her body and soak the sheets. Joonmyeon licked the wound clean, his fingers coaxing her, calming her as they slowly left her center. Blood stained his chin but she didn’t feel scared, not by the blood, not by him, just of herself of her body as he pulled the straps down her arms, pulling the dress down her body, exposing her all to him. She could barely keep her eyes open as she watched Joonmyeon raise to stand at the foot of the bed, watching her as he pulled shirt apart, slowly, button by button. She looked delicious in just her choker. “Turn over.” His voice was gruff and she sluggishly rose on her arms to do as he said as best as she could. She tucked her knees beneath her, remembering what she had seen briefly at her time at the house. She felt the bed dip behind her when he was completely naked and she bit her lip, apprehensive. Joonmyeon pushed her tense thighs apart, situating himself between them. He pressed his hand down on her lower back, smoothing it up her back, pressing her down, pushing her ass up higher and pressing her face into the mattress. “Are you ready?” She felt his thumb pressing against her button again making her squirm. She wanted to say no but she knew that was the wrong answer. “Yes.” She choked. Joonmyeon held her hips as his thick shaft slowly breached her. She whimpered in pain, her eyes clenching. “N-no-!” He held her still as he slowly filled her up, inch by inch. “Relax.” He cooed, his voice strained. She pressed her face into the sheets, tears brimming her eyes as he moved inside of her. He felt her pain and he scented her tears. He wanted to lose control on her body, lose himself in sex - but not yet. His hand looped around her hip, finding her clit quickly making her clench around him so invitingly. She gripped the bars of the headboard so hard her knuckled whitened. He moved his hips slowly pounding her softly and deeply as her whimpers gave way to moans. Pain melded into bliss and she pressed her cheek to the tear soaked mattress, her mewls freely filling the room as Joonmyeon fastened his pace, He palmed her ass in his hand as he fucked her harder, making her yell louder. She felt like she was in heaven as he made her toes curl, her second orgasm crashing into her body violently making her shake. Joonmyeon ripped his cock from her, her juices dripping down her legs and she sighed at the empty feeling. His finger left her clit and that hand came down hard on her ass. She cried out at the sting, tears blurring her vision and in one fast lithe movement he thrust himself deep inside of her. Her throat felt hoarse as he did it again and again, pushing in her so deep her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Orgasms blended into each other creating such intense pleasure that she didn’t know if she would ever be able to walk again.

[reactivebangtan]

REQUEST: their crush crying in front of them for the first time because of her depression they didn't know about? please! REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: references to depression/symptoms of depression. NOTES: each one of these is long and as detailed as possible, because this is a subject i hold very close to my heart, so i’ve split them up and am going to make them all with their own individual post. as someone with major depression, i know how it feels to try your hardest to hide it, and how awful it feels when you finally begin to crack. please know that there is always someone for you to talk to on this blog, as my messages are open to anyone and everyone and my notifications are always on. it doesn’t matter if it is four in the morning or two in the afternoon, whether you want to talk or just have a distraction, i am here. always remember: you never walk alone.

yoongi’s eyes blink blearily into the seemingly neverending darkness that has swallowed up his bedroom in the absence of the sun and for a moment everything is still and the only sound is the distant city life just outside these walls and his slow, even breathing. confusion over why he’s awake doesn’t last very long as the shrill, incessant ringing of his cell phone fills the once peaceful air and he’s grumbling to himself as he blindly searches for it, fingers skipping over the fabric of his sheets and trailing along the edge of his blanket. by the fourth ring the tip of his finger just hits the corner of it and it goes tumbling off the side of the bed and to the floor, vibrating harshly against the hard flooring and alighting the room in a warm, yellow-ish glow — at least he had the good sense to put on nightmode, before he passed out. once he’s reaching down to finally get a hold of it he’s all but spent on his remaining patience, and is far more than ready to give whoever it is a good talking to, hitting accept before he’s even lifted it from the floor.

❝ hello? ❞ his voice is gruff, raw with sleep and brimming with annoyance, his own huff blanketing the sound of sniffling from the other side. ❝ ...yoongi? ❞ it’s you, he notes, because he’d know that voice anywhere — this knowledge softens his frustration just a little, but not enough to keep him from also noting the confusion in your voice, as if you didn’t realize you were dialing him at... jesus, it’s five o’clock in the morning. ❝ yeah? who the hell else would it be? ❞ ❝ i-i’m sorry, i didn’t — ❞ you stop to take in a sharp breath, one that hiccups in your chest and skips three times before you can actually speak again.  ❝ — i didn’t mean to call you. i’m sorry. ❞ the way your voice heightens on your last apology has him suddenly wide awake, and now that his mind is quieted and his anger has bled out he finally hears the way your breath hitches over and over and how wet your words sound, soggy with sorrow and something indecipherable — it’s something that he’s heard in his own voice before, even if his words were dry and his eyes even drier.  acceptance. ❝ it’s okay, ❞ yoongi is quick to assure you as he’s shifting on his bed to sit up, his eyes shifting at the same time to the only other body in the room — he can’t make out more than the outline of his roommate’s body, but he can tell that he’s still asleep.  ❝ ...are you okay? ❞ you don’t answer right away, and instead he’s stuck listening to your wavering breath and the otherwise eerie silence. ❝ no. ❞ whispered so softly that he almost doesn’t catch it, yoongi’s mouth falls into a hard line and his fist unconsciously clenches in his lap, fingernails biting into his skin — frustration boils back to the surface, but this time no longer directed at you and rather directed at something unseen. he couldn’t tell you what it was if you asked, simply understanding that you’re hurting and he has no way of stopping it. ❝ what’s wrong? ❞ again, he’s met with silence and this time not even your breathing accompanies him in the pitch black of his bedroom, his eyes left to mindlessly wander the expanse of nothingness surrounding him — he has no idea that you’re doing the same thing, even though your light is on and the darkness cloaking you can’t be seen, only felt. ❝ come on — you might not have meant to call me, but you did, so now you’re gonna talk. talk to me, y/n. ❞ for a moment he almost thinks you hung up, almost moves his phone away from his ear to check, until your voice stops him:  ❝ i don’t know what’s wrong with me. ❞ he says nothing, and instead lets you continue. ❝ i’ll have days that are so — so good, and then it all just stops and i’m left feeling like this, again. like i never even left this place. like nothing is moving. it’s like a neverending cycle of this — this — ❞ ❝ hopelessness? ❞ ❝ yeah, ❞ you breathe. ❝ hopelessness. ❞ he understands — if there is anything he understands, it is this. the sort of feeling that leaves you desolate and afraid of the growing hole inside yourself, a hole you can’t close up, can’t stop from growing, can only watch consume you. he hears the hollow sound in your voice, the woe that sits beneath the surface, the misery that coats your words in a dark, heavy shade of blue. blue, because at least black seals it all away and leaves you devoid of anything, but blue — blue gives you hope, and snatches it away just as fast. blue colors the sky, but darkens to pitch in a matter of moments and leaves nothing but little holes of light that glitter a million lightyears away, burning hot with falsified life and always out of reach. there’s a reason it’s another word for sadness. ❝ it hurts so much, yoongi. ❞ while he has felt heartbreak, and has experienced grief, he has never felt anything like this — maybe it’s the pain in your voice or the pain in his heart, but it’s damn near unbearable. he wants to reach out and touch you, but you’re just as far away as the stars. ❝ i don’t want to feel like this anymore. ❞ ❝ don’t, ❞ the rapper’s reply is immediate, damn near cutting you off completely.  ❝ don’t talk like that. ❞ another bout of silence begging to be filled with the sort of words only min yoongi can weave together in the dead of night, still groggy from sleep and on the precipice of despair, and yet as eloquent as ever. ❝ just because it feels hopeless doesn’t mean it is hopeless. it doesn’t mean you’re hopeless. i used to think like that — like nothing could move this wall in my mind, no matter how much i hit it or ignored it or talked right through it. it muffled a lot of shit, too; i felt distant from everything else and everyone else, and god it ate at my passion until i had nothing left. i thought, for a really long time, that it would never stop being like that. that i’d have to struggle for everything, struggle through everything, and still never make it to the other side. ❞ it isn’t hard to recall when he’d had that own acceptance in his voice, when he was seemingly past the point of believing he’d make it out of his youth alive. when he was just waiting for the moment he’d decide to make it all stop. ❝ did you ever make it to the other side? ❞ ❝ i don’t know, really — maybe i did, maybe i didn’t. sometimes i think i just finally punched some holes in it, and sometimes i think i bulldozed that motherfucker down. some days it feels like i did nothing to it at all. it’s gotten easier to deal with those days, though. ❞ ❝ how? ❞ he smiles at the small tinkling of hope in your voice, even if it’s dim and flickering in the wind. how? you ask, as if you were asking for the answer to life. in a way, you were. ❝ you find people to support you, ❞ yoongi starts, chancing another glance at his roommate, smiling briefly to himself when he sees him shift in his sleep, mumbling incoherently.  ❝ people who can deal with you being a moody asshole and still take a chance on you when nothing you create feels good enough. people that believe in you, love you, take care of you. ❞ a pause. ❝ people who don’t mind you calling them at five in the morning, ‘cause you’re too sad to sleep. ❞ a shudder-y breath leaves you at this, and it takes you a moment to truly let his words sink in. it isn’t difficult, after knowing him for as long as you have, to detect the smile in his voice when he says it. hearing his happiness is like drinking warm, honeyed tea — soothing all the way down, coaxing you into a relaxed state and blanketing your mind in comfort. for the first time that night, for a moment, the weight leaves your chest and you can breathe again. ❝ yeah? ❞ ❝ yeah. ❞ silence falls over the moment once more, but this time comfortably — a small smile has made it’s way onto your lips, and although your eyes are red and puffy and you can’t breathe through your nose you feel at peace. the roaring tidal waves of despair have finally ebbed and your soul feels soothed — it is only temporary, and you know it, but you bask in it, anyway. ❝ ...thank you, yoongi. ❞ ❝ you’re welcome, ❞ he chuckles airily, more out of relief than amusement, but happy all the same; your words are no longer weighted with something beyond comprehension, finally light and assured. still, he knows the quiet after the ones you love leave is what brings the demons back, so instead of saying his goodbyes he begins to clamor out of bed and stalks down the hallway. the kitchen light is dim when he flickers it on, but it’s perfect to his sleep-darkened eyes, and far enough away from the bedrooms that he knows he won’t disturb any of the other boys. ❝ since you woke me up, though, you’re gonna have to entertain me for a while, got it? ❞ a giggle pours through his phone and he can’t help the way it makes him smile, the sound blooming warmly in his chest and nestling itself inside, the sensation tingling all the way to his fingertips — it would be a long night, but he’d do it every night if it meant you’d be happy.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Green-Eyed Doctor

(gif source)

Summary: Reader gets in a bad accident and is put under the care of Dr. Winchester during her stay...

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, car accident

A/N: I’m in love with doctor Dean now. Quote for this one was, “As long as I’m around, nothing bad is going to happen to you.”…

You could feel the pain before you opened your eyes. It just hurt absolutely everywhere, like every bruise, cut and scrape you’d endured through life had come together at once and multiplied by a thousand. Opening your eyes you were blinded by bright light, trying to blink it away. You went to move your hand to rub your eye but found you couldn’t, strapped down to something.

“Woah, calm down sweetheart,” said a deep voice as you struggled and made jolts of anguish shoot through nerves you didn’t even know you had. “Relax, we’re going to take care of you. Now can you tell me your name?”

You blinked a few more times and scrunched up your face, still trying to get your bearings.

“I’m Dr. Dean Winchester,” he said, taking a second to stop whatever it was he was doing and look down at you, a pair of green eyes meeting yours. “Can you tell me your name sweetheart?”

“Y-Y/N,” you said weakly, the one word alone sapping all of your energy from you. He smiled and said something to someone else, your straps undone as they moved you from one table to another, pulling a groan out of you. Your little car never stood a chance against that tractor trailer that decided to cross four lanes of highway and come at you head on. “Other drive...”

“Bumps and bruises. Let’s focus on you, Y/N,” said the doctor. Your head got dizzy and some alarm started going off. Shit, that didn’t feel right.

“Dying?” you asked, barely catching his coat sleeve. He gave you a gentle smile.

“As long as I’m around, nothing bad is going to happen to you, promise,” he said. “Let’s get her into OR 7 and prepped to go people.”

You still felt like you were dying but at least you didn’t feel covered in sticky blood anymore. You flashed open your eyes to find yourself in a dimly lit room, the sun trying to peak in through the blinds. It only took you about two seconds to realize you were in intensive care, the big room to yourself and the thousand machines strapped to you more than giving it away.

“Hey, you woke up sooner than I expected,” said the man you just noticed at the end of your bed. He looked tired in his blue scrubs as he jotted something down on a chart. 

“De...” you said before your throat felt drier than the desert. 

“Here you go,” he said, grabbing the pitcher of water from the other side of the room and pouring it in your cup, picking up one of the straws and sticking it in. “Slow sips.”

You took a few at first, eventually getting larger ones until that small act exhausted you. 

“Dean,” you said, finishing your statement from before. He smiled.

“I’m surprised you remember that,” he said with a chuckle. “How you feeling?” he asked, putting two fingers on your wrist and looking at his watch for a moment before looking at the monitors.

“Crappy,” you croaked out.

“Well that’s not good. It’s my job to get you not crappy,” said Dean with a smile.

“Cute,” you said, shivering as you noticed the chill in the room. “Can I have a blanket?”

“I’m sorry Y/N. We have to get your fever down first. Hopefully end of today it’ll be low grade and we can get you feeling warmer again,” he said. You shivered again and he looked heartbroken.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said. “I’m not some broken thing.”

“I know. That attitude is good too for PT,” he said, putting your chart back down.

“What’s wrong with me?” you asked.

“You really should get some rest Y/N. We can talk about it later if you’d like,” said Dean. You scowled and he sighed. “Broken ribs, large lacerations to the arms and chest with deep penetrating ones near your heart, nearly punctured lung, partially severed veins in your lower limbs, a concussion, various scrapes and bruises...your toes are probably the only thing that don’t hurt right now,” he joked.

“Thank you,” you said, Dean pouring you another glass of water and moving it over to where you could get it on your own.

“I’ll have a nurse come in soon. Get some sleep and I’ll be back later today.”

You were ready to kill someone with the agony you were in. Where the fuck was your pain killers? Nearly all day when you weren’t sleeping you were mashing the nurse button but the doctor hadn’t prescribed you any. 

“Hello Y/N, how are-”

“Prescription, write it now, please,” you said, seeing his eyes go wide. 

“Oh fuck,” he said, scrambling from the room. Two minutes later he was back with a morphine bag. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I was writing one this morning and...shit I left it in your chart.”

“Just hurry up,” you whined, your hands hurting from clawing into the sheets all day. It took a moment but soon you felt a small wave of relief hit you. “Oh that’s so much better.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I went home to bed and came back without looking at my phone and...shit they’re supposed to get someone else if I’m not here to do it,” he said, pissed at himself and the whole damn hospital now.

“On the bright side, I feel fucking amazing now,” you said. “You should try this stuff.”

“I apologize Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

Dr. Winchester was very attentive of you after that incident, checking on you often throughout the days, saying hi when you were walking in the halls to get your strength back, occasionally eating his lunch with you. Thankfully your legs weren’t as bad as they feared and you were told you could be running a marathon soon. Not like you would have done that anyways.

“How’s my favorite patient doing today?” asked Dean, stopping in your room and grabbing your chart.

“I’m moving from ICU this afternoon. I’m bustin’ out of this joint soon Dean,” you said. 

“Good. I love seeing you everyday but I would prefer it not be with you in a hospital bed,” said Dean. You tilted your head, wondering if he meant it to come out that way. Dean had grown more flirty with you lately but you’d always thought that was his natural personality coming through.

“So I can go home soon?” you asked, so used to Dean picking up your arms and bending them this way and that you just talked when he started doing his thing.

“We’ll pop you to a normal room for three days or so and then you can head home as long as you have someone there. Otherwise we’ll probably keep you four or five,” said Dean. You groaned and he chuckled, sitting down on your bed. “What, you don’t want to go home?”

“If you hadn’t noticed Dean no one came to visit me. That means two more days of staring at these pale blue walls,” you said. Dean sighed, opening his mouth but closing it. You knew what he wanted to say but that wasn’t his place.

“A few more days sweetheart and you’ll be able to take care of yourself.”

You were lying on your couch in your dusty apartment. It hadn’t been cleaned in who knew how fucking long. You glanced over to your kitchen, the to-do list stuck on your fridge of chores you were supposed to do that day you got in your accident long and probably never getting done.

“Clean up apartment, yeah that ain’t happening,” you said, forcing yourself to sit up. It’d been easier when someone was helping. You weren’t afraid to struggle some but your house was a freaking mine field compared to the nice clean hospital. Your phone rang and you growled at yourself for leaving it on the kitchen counter. 

Carefully you slid over to the end of the couch, pushing off the arm rest and standing. You managed to grab the phone on the last ring.

“Hello?” you asked, taking a step straight into an empty box and falling face first onto your tile floor. “Ow.”

“Y/N? This is Dr. Winchester. Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I fell,” you said, breathing hard. “I’m fine. Just sore.”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” he asked and you laughed.

“No Dean. I’m okay. I banged my knee mostly,” you said, sitting up against your cabinets, inspecting your throbbing leg. “What’s up?”

“I was just checking in after you checked out this morning. Besides the fall how is everything going?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” you said. “Not looking forward to going back to work.”

“You aren’t cleared to return to work Y/N,” said Dean. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to know about that. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I know I’m just saying in the long term ya know?” you said. He was silent on the other end.

“Don’t go to work tomorrow,” he said. You rolled your eyes. How could he possibly understand? He made good money and had good insurance. You were lucky you were covered for what had happened but if you didn’t get back to work soon...”Doctor’s orders.”

“I won’t go to work tomorrow, Dean.”

“Y/N, how not lovely to see you again,” said Dean, walking into your hospital room. “I distinctly remember you saying yesterday that you wouldn’t be going to work.”

“I had to. I need the money and my insurance...my boss said I had to get back,” you said.

“Yeah well whoever your boss is deserves an ass kicking,” said Dean, looking over your chart. “Exhaustion and you hit your head again. Y/N I wanted to see you again but not like this.”

“It doesn’t matter, I got fired anyways,” you said. “I’ll be in medical debt forever if you don’t discharge me today.”

“Not happening,” said Dean, pulling out his flashlight and holding up his finger. You knew the routine by now and he had a scowl when he finished. “You have some puffiness around your eyes. We should have another scan to make sure-”

“I’ve been crying okay? Please just leave me alone Dean,” you said, turning on your side away from him. 

“Get some rest. I’ll check back later,” he said, pulling up your blanket and turning off the light as he left.

You were home again, back on the couch, only now you were trying to figure out what the hell you were supposed to do. You could look for a job but Dean or your other doctor weren’t clearing you for weeks that was for sure. You could only thank your other doctor that he let you go home a few hours ago so you wouldn’t have to deal with any medical bills. 

A knock came at your door and you frowned. You waited and hoped they would go away. They knocked again and you huffed, standing up too fast but not caring as you flung your door open.

“What!” you said, staring at a pair of blue scrubs.

“Bad day?” asked Dean, taking a step back. You breathed hard for a moment, Dean’s hand raising up to hand you a bag. “You didn’t go to the pharmacy.”

“I can’t afford it,” you said. “I’ll take feeling like crap for a while over the debt.”

“Just take the medicine, Y/N. It’s covered,” said Dean, thrusting the bag forward.

“You did not pay for this,” you said, crossing your arms, refusing to accept it.

“Fine I didn’t pay for it. Shit you can be as stubborn as hell, can’t you? You’ve had a really rough go of it these past few months. I’m just trying to help you not have some more,” said Dean.

“I don’t think it’s very professional of you to do something like this,” you said, un-fisting one of your hands, feeling the bag be shoved under it.

“I like you, sue me,” he said. “Is that your apartment? It’s a mess.”

“Sorry, spring cleaning wasn’t on the top of my list of crap to deal with today,” you said, walking away.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked. You shrugged. “You have no food?”

“Everything is expired. The grocery store is closed. I’ll go tomorrow,” you said. Dean was shaking his head in your doorway.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, pulling your front door shut.

“Yeah right.”

“I know you’re in there,” said Dean an hour later, after you’d ignored his knocking for a few minutes. Reluctantly you got up and answered. Dean was in jeans and a flannel, carrying a big bag full of tupperware containers.

“What is-”

“Food for the next few days. Just pop them in the oven or microwave. There’s a note with how long to cook them each,” said Dean. “Get your strength back. Now can I come in please?”

“Not like you’d take no for an answer,” you said, waving him in after you.

“What would you like? I made some comfort food, mashed potatoes and mac n’ cheese if you want,” he said, pulling out the top container from the bag.

“Go for it,” you said, pointing over to your kitchen before sitting down on your couch. You shut your eyes as you listened to him move about. But he kept moving and kept moving to the point where you were getting annoyed at the noise. “What-”

He was fucking cleaning your apartment for you. 

“There are in home nurses that would normally help with this but I’m already here,” said Dean when he caught your stare.

“Remember that unprofessional thing?” you said, Dean smiling to himself.

“You want me gone just say the words and I’ll leave you be,” said Dean, picking up some boxes and putting them in a pile near your door to go out. You sighed and he laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why are you even helping me?” you asked. 

“Maybe cause I like you?” said Dean with a smile. You nestled into your couch as he worked away, cleaning up the dust and sweeping up the floor, tossing the old food in the trash and bundling it up to go out as well. 

“You do this for all your patients?” you asked, sniffing the air as the thought of hot food made you smile.

“Nope. Just you,” he said. He made his way back into the kitchen, taking out the food as the timer went off. Before you knew it, you had a plate on your kitchen table and you were hopping up for a bite. “Slower next time.”

“You got it doc,” you said, sitting down and diving in, only feeling a little strange at being the only one eating. It’d been a lifetime since you had an actual home cooked meal. You glanced around your apartment and found it now free of any obstacles to trip on, no longer musty smelling in there either.

“You need anything else tonight?” he asked. You shook your head between bites. Dean stood, grabbed a notepad and started jotting down a few things. “I got to run to the grocery store in the morning. I can pick up what you want around here in case you get sick of my cooking.”

“This is fucking phenomenal,” you said, scarfing down the last of your food. “I can make it on my own.”

“Says the woman who isn’t allowed to drive for two weeks,” he said. “You going to hulk out and carry it all?” he teased.

“Fine. You can help me until my concussion is gone and I’m able to drive again, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Eh, what’s up doc?” you said a few weeks later, Dean laughing the way he always did when you answered his calls.

“Do you want to have dinner at my place tonight? We always eat over at yours. I figured maybe you wanted to-”

“Sure. I’d love to see you work in a kitchen that’s not the size of a closet,” you said.

“Swing by in about thirty,” he said. He was there in twenty five, still in scrubs and a little sweaty from his long shift.

“Surgery today?” you asked, walking down the stairs outside without his help but his hand there to catch you in case.

“Yeah, car accident. Got hit head on. Her car took the brunt of it. It wasn’t life threatening like you,” he said. 

“Wait, life...you never told me that,” you said, pausing at his car. He walked around the other side of the Impala and slid in. You followed suit and repeated your statement.

“You don’t tell people when they come in on death’s door that they’re probably not going to make it. You just say you’ll try your best,” said Dean, pulling out of your small lot and onto the road.

“That’s not what you told me,” you said. 

“I know,” said Dean.

“Then why’d you say it?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I just did,” he said. “What’s the big deal?” 

“You shouldn’t promise people in my situation that you’re going to save them,” you said.

“I don’t. I just did it the once with you,” he said, resting his head on his propped up elbow.

“Why?” you asked softly. Dean sighed and put both hands back on the wheel.

“I don’t know Y/N. I just did it,” he said. “How’d PT go today?” he asked, getting off the topic. 

You told him how you were doing better, thanks to him pulling some strings and getting you in at no cost. He was happy to hear how you found a work from home job that was flexible with your hours, had good benefits and paid decent enough that you’d start at next week. By the time you’d got done talking you were pulling into his parking lot.

He led you over to the door and inside, pointing out the stairs or elevator. He was on the third floor but you knew you could handle it. He was smiling when you turned around at the top. 

“Three months ago you couldn’t take a step without some help,” he said. “Told you you’d get there.”

“I have a very attentive doctor,” you teased, following him down the hall and into a nice apartment. It was bigger and nicer than yours but it wasn’t fancy, not that you’d expect that from the guy that showed up in plaid everyday.

“I’m going to pop dinner in the oven and take a fast shower if you don’t mind,” he said. “You can watch TV or whatever,” he said, waving you over to the couch. “There’s a half bath over there,” he said, pointing at an open door as he messed about in the kitchen.

“Gotcha,” you said, taking a seat on his couch and practically moaning. Shit you should have been a doctor for a couch like that.

“Y/N? Want some food sleepy head?” he teased as he shook you awake. 

“Sorry,” you said sitting up from where you’d fallen asleep while dinner cooked.

“S’kay. I figured the extra stairs might take it out of you,” he said. He was in a pair of sweats and a black tee, helping you up and over to his kitchen table.

“Oh I love your mashed potatoes,” you said, smiling when you took a seat.

“Y/N, we...I’m your friend right? I’m not just your overly concerned doctor to you?” he asked, sitting across from you.

“Yeah Dean, you’re my friend. What’s going on?” you asked. He shifted in his seat and shrugged.

“Just checking,” he said. “I know you’re pretty independent now. You don’t need me to help. I just don’t want to stop hanging out is all.”

“That depends,” you said, hoping you weren’t going too far. “Are you finally going to ask me out?”

“I wanted us to to be friends first,” said Dean. You smiled and he returned it. “Would you like to go on a date with me Y/N?”

“Yes, I would like that very much,” you said.

“Can this be our first date?” he asked, smirking with big bright eyes.

“Yes. You had this planned all along didn’t you,” you said. “That’s why we had dinner here.”

“Hard to plan a surprise first date in someone else’s apartment ya know,” he joked. “I like you Y/N. A lot.”

“I like you too Dean. You’ve helped in more ways than you’ll ever know,” you said.

“I told you once before, as long as I’m around, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I intend on keeping that promise,” said Dean. He smiled when you tilted your head at him. “What?”

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Go to the park maybe,” you asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that. We can have a picnic if you want,” he said, the hope in his eyes that you were talking about another date.

“Looking forward to it.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug@darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball  @oaisara @feelmyroarrrr @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass@fangirl1802 @itstheprincess @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke@secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen  @missmotherhen@smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester  @tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha@bennyyh @acreativelydifferentlove @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67​ @evyiione @jensenackesl​ @xxxdevine-demonsxxx​  @ayeeitsemry​ @mac5323​ @bellastellaluna @atc74

[easyweight101]

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Ceramides Dimethecone

Ceramides: Ceramides are lipid molecules found in cell membranes. They work to hold skin cells together and help the skin retain moisture. Ceramides are lost to age and environmental factors, and when this happens, skin becomes dry and open to further damage.

Dimethicone: A silicone that works to provide a protective cover over the skin, this ingredient works to minimize the appearance of enlarged pores or fine lines, as well as keep moisture locked in.

Click here for a look at our favorite eye creams — from the moisturizing to the hyper-restorative.

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel Quality of Ingredients

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel doesn’t offer a whole lot in terms of benefits. The formula is heavy on the fillers and light on active ingredients, which are limited to a non-descript herbal extract, dimethicone, and ceramides.

Ceramides are great for protecting the skin against damage, as well as providing some antiaging benefits. Dimethicone on the other hand, fills in large pores and fine lines—but prevents the skin from breathing. This may result in acne or clogged pores.

We didn’t’ like a few things about this formulation. One, this product contains urea. While the urea typically found in cosmetics is man-made, not sourced from urine, it still poses some unsavory risks. Urea, used as a preservative, as well as a moisturizer is thought to increase the user’s risk of irritation or dermatitis. Additionally, this ingredient is thought to release formaldehyde, which is a carcinogen.

Additionally, this product contains both yellow and blue dyes—present to give the gel a green tint, and parabens. While unlikely to cause much in terms of damage, some consumers prefer to avoid these ingredients as the full risk of use has not been fully assessed.

Want to firm up sagging skin and get rid of those dark circles? Click here for a closer look at the best eye creams money can buy.

EDITOR’S TIP: Combine this product with a proven eye cream such as Kremovage for better results.

The Price and Quality of Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel is available through a wide array of channels—from department stores like Nordstrom and Bloomingdale’s, to beauty standbys like Sephora and Ulta, as well as directly from the manufacturer. This product retails for $18 for a jar containing 0.5 ounces of gel.

As compared to other eye creams we’ve seen, this particular eye gel does not contain a whole lot of active ingredients. And of the total amount of ingredients, many are things like urea, parabens or yellow dye.

Certainly, an $18 eye cream sounds like a steal, but we think many people would be happier with a cream that does more, even if it means spending a few extra dollars.

Get the latest insights on how to properly care for your skin type.

Business of Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel was made by the skincare company of the same name. Here’s a little more about this business and what they do:

Phone: 800-345-2761

Mario Badescu was founded in New York City in 1967, by Mario Badescu—who began his namesake skin care line by doing facials from his apartment.

The company philosophy based based on creating gentle, effective treatments that are relatively affordable, especially considering the products they are sold next to.

The official Mario Badescu website features a full range of products—from hair care to toners and face creams and more—as well as a store locator and e-commerce platform, and a guide to how to develop a skin care regimen on your own.

The site features a number of testimonials from consumers who felt these products helped them overcome acne or even out their skin tones.

Overall, this company seems to offer good customer service practices, in-depth information about skin care, and reasonable prices. The products in this line are not for the consumer looking for natural products—many contain parabens or dyes—but they are well-regarded by a number of magazines and have positive reviews on Sephora and Ulta’s websites.

Customer Opinions of Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel has a wide range of reviews spanning several channels. Because this brand is widely available and has a strong customer base, it seems reports tended to lean toward the positive end of the spectrum.

Most consumers didn’t acknowledge the somewhat lackluster formula, but not every customer reads labels diligently. People did have some complaints about the texture and lack of efficacy, but overall, liked some of what it had to offer.

Here are some of the comments we found during our research:

“So happy I found this product online. I’ve used so many products, and this one is perfect for what I want to achieve, plus, it’s refreshing for tired eyes and gets rid of those pesky bags.”

“I’ve have dark circles, mainly due to genetics. I’ve tried many eye creams, and most don’t live up to the hype. One of the employees at Ulta suggested I try this item, and I noticed a huge difference.”

“I wouldn’t say I hate this, but the hyaluronic acid version of this product is much more effective. This one is cooling, but it feels sticky when it’s on. It doesn’t work that great with makeup, either.”

“I use this gel as a serum underneath my sunscreen. It has helped brighten the skin, and it adds some extra hydration. I actually use it all over the area around the eye.”

Perhaps most importantly, we saw almost no mention of whether or not this product was a good antiaging solution. Many of the consumers did say this gave them a brighter look, but it could be due to the simple fact that this product is greasy and sticky.

Most of the complaints people shared after using this product were in regards to the overall stickiness of the formula. The product doesn’t absorb well after application, making it kind of an impractical choice for a lot of consumers who may want to wear this during the day or layered with other products.

Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel isn’t a comprehensive formula. It seems like it may be worthwhile for some users—particularly those with drier skin or who didn’t wear this with makeup.

Between sunscreens and serums, here’s a look at the products you should be using on your face to prevent wrinkles.

Between sunscreens and serums, here’s a look at the products you should be using on your face to prevent wrinkles.

Conclusion – Does Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel Work?

In the end, the price is right for Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel, and the reviews suggest that this product may have some benefits. With that in mind, we have to say, we were a bit disappointed with the formula.

This product does not appear to be especially good for the under eye area. For example, it’s filled with parabens and urea, along with dimethicone. Urea may cause irritation, while dimethicone clogs pores by essentially covering them up. Parabens, on the other hand, remain controversial—they have been linked to things like breast cancer, but more research needs to be done in order to determine the full extent of the risk.

While we don’t love the ingredient profile, it is worth noting that there were few reports of any negative side effects associated with use. It really comes down to a matter of priorities. Mario Badescu Ceramide Eye Gel isn’t made for people who prefer plant-based formulas and paraben-free creams—but some people will gladly take the price reduction along with some less-than-clean ingredients.

Kremovage is our top choice when it comes to eye creams. Its clean formula boasts a solid lineup of antiaging ingredients—peptides, fruit extracts, retinol and more. This product works to lift and firm skin that’s lost its elasticity and smooths away unwanted lines beneath the eye.

Kremovage was made by a team of experts dedicated to consumer safety and satisfaction above all else. Click learn about Kremovage, and start addressing your under eye needs.

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