#i'll probably still have to carry him down steps and stuff but i don't mind

[chaewillriot]

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

RENTING A BEACH HOUSE WITH THE GANG!

(SBG X FEM! READER)

PART 2 / ?

"Why do you keep tossing in sweets? Do you want us to have diabetes?" Tyler scowls as he watches Aiden scavenge for more items; it seems like he's searching for a specific brand. The blonde doesn't look back at him but tells him to shut up with a single hand gesture.

Tyler groans, running a hand across his face. He has to mentally restrain himself from smacking the shit out of the dumbass. "Why are you like this?"

Ben quickly jots down a few words on his notepad before tapping Tyler's shoulder.

"It's for [y/n]. She loves gummies."

Tyler's face seemed to soften for a brief second but he immediately replaces it with another scowl. Damn, just the thought of you munching on some gummies made him feel weak. Your cheeks would look so cute all puffed up and—

He quickly dismisses the thought.

"Fine, whatever. Do what you want." The brunet ultimately sighs. Maybe, just maybe, he could let it slide this one time.

"Oh, but remember to not eat much! Those things aren't healthy." Logan reminds everyone even though he knows those packs of sweets are for you. Everyone just nods in agreement.

Back with the girls, all three of you weren't that happy to have waited an extra forty minutes for the boys to arrive. Although that anger subsides as today's supposed to be a day to have fun. After paying for the snacks and swimsuits, you all head to the van in the parking lot.

"Aiden, what are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask as you see him crawling on the floor. "You look like a caterpillar."

"Shush." He quickly says.

Tyler sees him acting all idiotic again so he calls him out to the driver. "Hey, mister. Someone's not in their proper sea—"

Aiden, hearing this, hits his head on the edge of one of the seats as he tries to get up from the ground. He silently curses and scurries back to his seat in the rear with Ben.

Everyone stifles in a laugh when they see that happening.

"Calling him out? They're acting like children again.." You mutter under your breath and Logan, who's sitting beside you, lets out a small giggle.

"Well, they're just enjoying their youth." He smiles at you. You smile back at him and reach out to fix his glasses so its not hanging off at the edge of his nose.

The trip would take a while, so you take a nap on Logan's shoulder. He didn't mind. He even intertwines both your fingers together. Everyone else saw that happening but tried not to let it get to their heads. There's plenty more time to bond with you at the Beach House.

By the time the bus comes to a stop, everyone was excited to step off the bus. Logan couldn't get his bags because you were still asleep on his shoulder. He got help from Ben, who easily carried you in his arms while you slept. No one had the heart to wake you up. You looked too cute.

You continued to nap while Ben carried you bridal style in his arms and into the resort. Aiden follows closely behind, carrying your bags and his.

Taylor feels really proud for being able to pull this one off with all of you. After all those hangouts that had been canceled.. This one really paid off. "This is it, guys. We're finally here!"

Ashlyn smiles at her excitement. She takes a look around. "Where do we check-in?"

The area was mostly just Beach Houses, and of course, the beach. The hotel shouldn't be that far. Taylor looks back at the group. "Hm, I'll go ahead and find the receptionist. Some of you guys should stay here. I think there's still a few stuff we've left at the van."

She loops an arm around Ashlyn and Logan, dragging the two to walk on the pebbled ground that probably leads to the hotel. "We'll get going then!"

Tyler sighs. He turns around to face Ben, who's still holding you. He'd be lying if he told himself he didn't want to hold you like that too.

"We should check up on the van," Then he turns to Aiden. "And you, moron. Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Aiden didn't appreciate the nickname but he did appreciate being left alone, cause that would mean..

Ben gently transfers you to his cousin's arms since he didn't want to wake you up if he's going to get the rest of the luggage. Before he turns to leave with Tyler, he makes a little gesture pointing at your sleeping form, as if he's silently reminding the blonde to keep you safe. He's a bit reluctant as he knows Aiden's tiny (huge) crush on you.

Once the two of you are left alone, Aiden looks down at you, still maintaining that goofy grin on his face. He feels like he won the lottery getting to hold you like this.

"Hehehehe..."

It didn't take long for Taylor, Ashlyn, and Logan to come back. They were able to check-in and get the keys for the Beach House all of you will be staying in for the week. What they didn't expect to see is the luggages scattered on the ground and Aiden carrying you to the shore.

"Aiden!" Taylor almost shrieks out. "Don't you dare drop [y/n]!"

Ashlyn wasted no time running after the boy in order to save you incase Aiden drops you into the water, and Logan runs off to the direction where the van's supposed to be.

By the time Ashlyn caught up, Aiden just keeps running with you still in his arms, even laughing his ass off. Unfortunately, it's been long since you've woken up, but you have no idea what the hell's going on.

Taking a peek over Aiden's shoulder, you almost jump. Ashlyn seems pissed and she's sprinting towards the both of you.

Tyler and Ben came running back in a hurry because of Logan telling them about the commotion. Seeing Ashlyn chasing after Aiden, Ben joins in. He's more worried for you right now.

"Hey, dumbass! I'll kill you if you drop her!" Tyler yells. He couldn't do much as knows he can't catch up at this rate. Aiden's running too far now.

In the end, all of you managed to get back to the Beach House unscathed. Luckily, no one got wet. You're squished on the sofa in between Ashlyn and Tyler. It seems like they're shielding you from Aiden. Their glare could kill, no kidding.

"Petition to not let Aiden near [y/n] anymore?" Taylor suggested.

"Agreed." Everyone says (Ben writes it down) in unison, leaving the blonde with no room for arguments.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

[swarvey]

I honestly love how you're writing and am trying to learn from it. Could I please request how they would be as parents? I don't care who, have fun with it. I just like reading your stuff ☺️

how he is as a parent | sdv x g/n!reader

after settling down together on the farm, you and alex decide to take the next step and bring a baby into your life.

a/n: awww you are so, so sweet! this actually means the world to me <3 alex was the main character who came to mind, but i'm open to writing more! enjoy <3

alex

absolutely cannot wait to be a dad.

he's thought about it countless times, especially when his father treated him badly

doesn't ever let himself become discouraged by his own experience though, he actually uses it as motivation

will definitely spoil the hell out of your kid, no matter what

the thought of alex with a daughter is especially heartwarming to me though ...

(definitely the dad to hunt down her ex bf)

"come on, honey, open the door," you sigh, knocking on the entrance to your teenage daughter's room. "you have to eat dinner."

no response, though your heart breaks at the sound of her crying quietly. alex walks up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. you place yours on top of it, looking at him worriedly.

"she still hasn't come out?" he asks, shocked. "here, let me try." you gladly let him take your place by the door, rubbing your face in exhaustion. you've been trying to coax her to come out for the past hour.

"honey, it's dad!" alex calls out. you can tell he's trying to sound normal, though the worry glazing his eyes gives him away. "why don't you at least open the door so we can give you a plate of food, sweetie? you shouldn't go to bed on an empty stomach, it's not good for you."

"i'll eat later, dad," she replies, her watery voice just barely making it past the door. "i'm not hungry."

he freezes. "are you crying?" he turns to you, concern washing over his face. "now you really have to open this door, sweetheart, or else we'll have to call robin over to fix it after i bust it down."

"alex!" you say, smacking his arm. "you are not breaking down this door."

"oh, i definitely will. i think you forget you're talking to a former aspiring gridball player — i have personalized routines for my shoulders, back, biceps, pecs—"

"okay, okay! i get it!" both of you hear your daughter sigh as she slowly opens the door, revealing her tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. "sorry for making you worry," she mumbles, falling into alex's open arms. you rub her back as she continues to cry, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"you have nothing to be sorry for," you reassure. "just tell us what's wrong."

alex lifts her face, pinching her nose playfully. you can't help but smile as he makes her laugh, more than glad to see her break out of her sadness even for a moment.

"that's completely right," alex agrees. there's a certain sweetness in his voice he only uses for his daughter. "you can talk to us, okay? what happened?"

she sniffs and wipes her eyes before replying, "my boyfriend broke up with me."

"he what?!"

any composure your husband had is thrown out the window. you stifle a laugh at your daughter's shocked face as alex picks her up effortlessly, carrying her bridal-style towards the front of the house with you trailing behind them.

"honey, where do you keep your tools again? i think we'll be needing your axe."

"dad, what are you—"

"or your sword! that would probably be more scary, right?" he pauses, turning to you with a smile. "i mean, i was pretty scared when i saw you holding a sword for the first time."

you and your daughter laugh loudly, tears forgotten as alex continues to storm around the house with her in his arms, demanding to know where he lives and how muscular he is. you watch idly, suddenly emotional as you realize his dream of becoming a good dad has become a reality. unexpected tears fill your eyes, just as they round back to where you're standing.

alex stops in his tracks. "now my other baby's crying," he sighs, "and i really have no clue why this time. well!" he sets his daughter down, ruffling her hair. "give me one second, princess."

"alex, don't you dare," you threaten, backing away. "i'm warning you!"

the night ends with your daughter happily eating dinner while alex pleads you to forgive him for tickling you.

[squadrah]

Hello, if you don't mind me asking for your thoughts on all members of La Squadra being bridal carried by their lil (secretly buffy but not really) SO. Sorry my english might be mixed up and I really like your ways of characterized the team <3

Never apologize for your English! I'm not a native speaker and even if I were, I would never judge. Thank you for the kind words, too! SO stuff isn't my strong suit but I'll give it a shot!

Risotto: I think the best time was actually the first time, when he was exceedingly shocked and incredulous, and then just said, "Ah, I see. You are strong," and allowed himself to be carried until the SO got weak in the knees. He would allow the bridal carry as long as the SO was in perfect health and if he wanted to make a point of demonstrating their strength to someone.

Formaggio: He would find it pretty funny and allow it as long as he was in a good mood, but he would want to return the favor, so when the SO put him down, they could expect to be picked up. A shrunken-to-practical-size Formaggio would definitely be carried about like that whenever he got drunk off his ass, and he would appreciate the lift even more in that state, so everybody wins here.

Prosciutto: He would be extremely angry if he was picked up without his consent, so it's best to preserve the moment for times when he is out of commission or deep asleep and has to be moved. He doesn't care to bridal carry anyone and won't be wooed by such a gesture even in a good mood - he is a bit of a killjoy that way. He won't say a word though if he is genuinely in need of being carried.

Pesci: This one is more of a hopeless romantic, mostly on account of believing that genuinely romantic moments are out of his reach due to his appearance and his anxious fumbling, so if he were to be picked up, he would first be surprised and then very flustered about it. His heart would swell with ardor to be strong too so he could be there for the SO who could lift him and carry him so tenderly.

Ghiaccio: Another one who would detest being carried, as he resents being held in a way that doesn't allow him to easily move away. He would have to be coaxed into it as either a trust exercise or actual physical exercise, so there would be equal amounts of bridal carry on both ends, and he would still insist that over the shoulder is a way better method of transporting a body, so... there you go.

Melone: His surprise would be much more animated and positive than the others' - he would find such a display of strength interesting and intriguing, and he would happily let the SO carry him until they gave out and had to put him down. He would thoughtfully count the steps taken and chat to the SO about how reassuring it is to have someone so capable around, which is pretty rewarding.

Illuso: He likes the concept of the bridal carry, but he is too much of a drama queen to allow it under ordinary circumstances; it would have to be done at the right moment and with the right amount of flair, and the flex would feel quite different from what Risotto might aim for. Also he is somewhat stingy and would have to be begged to return the favor. His smugness about it is somewhat endearing.

Sorbet: He is lukewarm on the concept because he's not a traditional romantic, but he would find it an acceptable way of being carried into bed, and would probably opt for the bridal carry as his position of choice if he also felt the drama rumble in his blood, or if he was incapacitated and had to be carried. Allow him to hang limp and lifeless from the SO's arms for the best effect.

Gelato: He doesn't seem to think the bridal carry very special, though he understands that it is something couples might do, and therefore would consider it as proof of love if he were carried. He's a very good sport about it, but he wouldn't make it easy: he knows how to squeeze back and wiggle if he wants to be an ass for fun, so let's hope the SO is both buff enough and not very ticklish.

[dorianpavus]

Do you have tips for organizing bg3 hotbars? Mine are overwhelming me but I don't know where to start

ooooh i can tell you how i organize mine, at least! 😊

the short version is this:

maximize the rows on your hotbar, and group things that go together. spells by level, abilities by melee/ranged, anything that forms patterns and helps you differentiate between them.

but my typical meandering, long-winded version below the cut! 🫡 also very minor spoilers regarding like, ability icons haha.

first things first i always maximize the number of rows that can be on the hotbar. this is especially important on a caster with lots of spells at their disposal, but even someone like a battle master fighter can have too much going on otherwise.

i like to do that immediately, even before they have enough abilities to fill the space, because if you organize your hotbar first and then expand the rows when you get more abilities, it messes up your organization and you have to do it all over again. 😔 so i just get it out of the way from the start.

if you didn't know, you click here for that!

generally i like to group things that go together, so it makes finding things easier. that means grouping spells by level, etc.

for instance, i always put the top row of my spells as my cantrips. and even further, i usually have "attack" cantrips first (with the one i am most likely to use most often closest to the divider), followed by utility cantrips.

after that, spells go by level! guiding bolt and fog cloud are both first level spells, and misty step is second level. third level spells (haste, lightning bolt, and fireball) get their own row. then fourth and fifth level spells are beneath that.

(also if anyone is wondering why i have cleric spells on my sorcerer, it's because i installed this mod because i really wanted my dark urge to be a divine soul sorcerer, and this lets me kinda fudge it lol)

depending on where i have the most room/what looks less cluttered (clutter on the hotbar = eyes glaze over and i don't use things enough haha), i will add other things. below i have a little gruel, put on the hotbar because it's something that is very situationally useful and i don't want to forget it (it doesn't take an action or bonus action to consume). next i have my false life scrolls, which are another thing i want to use every day on my sorcerer. next level down are the healing spells i get from my amulet, separated from my other spells so i know they're a once-per-rest use; and then a tadpole ability.

this system pretty much carries me over on all my characters. on lae'zel, i have her melee attacks on the top row, and ranged attacks on the row below it. moreover, the "basic" attacks are on the left of the divider ("main attack" and per-rest attacks you get from your weapons), and the class abilities she gets are on the right. and any of the same abilities get paired together (i.e. melee trip attack is right above ranged trip attack, and basic melee attack is right above basic ranged attack).

things are a little messier on astarion, just because he's most likely to use special arrows and poisons, but i still have a grouping system for those. melee attacks on top (basic attacks left of the divider, sneak attacks on the right side). the potions i want him to use most often i also put on the left side (elixir of viciousness and speed potion) to make them easier to spot/stand out from everything else i threw on his hotbar. then the actual items are separated according to what they do -- grenades on the top row, followed by poisons/oils, and arrows on the bottom. (don't mind the second row, which is a mix of stuff that overflowed and didn't quite fit and i have been too lazy to clean up yet lol.)

(...tbh looking at this is making me really want to organize it when i play next. 😭 i'll probably organize the arrows and oils further based on their purpose; whether a buff or an attack, friendly arrow or violent, etc. maybe go by rarity as well. i have a few more arrows that are creature type specific in my inventory (arrow of monstrosity slaying, undead slaying, etc; and i might add those to his custom hotbar tab).

this does look a little overwhelming, but i found my first playthrough that i like straight up never used most of my items (arrows, poisons, etc) and forgot about them in my inventory. now i use them every combat and they actually feel worthwhile and fun.

lastly my custom screen i devoted to spell scrolls. i only did this on my main character, who hoards them all lol. but i followed the same pattern of diving spells by level, and furthermore by whether they are attack spells or buff/friendly spells, which just helps me strategzie more/find things quicker.

i don't know if that will help you at all, but that's how i do it at least! grouping things by whatever pattern works for you, and trying to space things out so it's not just one big wall of abilities... that is what i'd recommend. :) and starting the organization as early as you can so it's easy to add things in as you go!

good luck!!! 🥰

[silverott-chevalier]

So at the behest of a couple of friends, I've made this thing for what it's worth.

My name is Cooper Chevalier, and let's just get this out of the way now-- yes, I am, in fact, a Samurott. If you've heard about a Pokemon becoming a Trainer somewhere in the Johto region, that would be me. If you're wondering how or why this is even possible, then I guess I don't mind answering questions, but for now just know that the League had to make a few accommodations for me when I was first starting out and I've managed to take that all the way to the top and become one of the region's champions. Lance is still the guy running the Indigo Plateau, though--I mostly get called on to resolve issues in Kanto-Johto that he'd normally need to step away for. It's a nice little arrangement.

Anyway. I was convinced to make this by a friend in Galar, so I'm hoping this place is as good as they've made it out to be.

I'm also hoping that not having a Rotom won't bite me on the tail later... how the heck did those things become mainstream anyway--

EDIT: Saw a lot of people putting their Pokemon on these, too, and I'm finally sitting down and doing it. I could probably tell you about Shia and Pallas while I'm here but this should show up in the post they reblogged too so I can be lazy.

Anyway, here's my five mainstays-- they've been with me since near the start of my journey.

Mason (Gengar, M): Kind of a shy fella, but he's really loyal. Easily the partner I trust the most, and though I'm a bit sad to admit it, he's definitely gotten me out of a lot of sticky scenarios the painful way... I've been a lot more careful not to let that sort of thing happen since.

Sypha (Ampharos, F): Serious to a fault and speaks to the point. Proud of her power, but aware of her limits, though that doesn't mean she can't throw a mean Thunderbolt.

Juste (Togekiss, M): I raised him from an egg, and he's easily the most optimistic member of my team. He's also my ride around the two regions, usually, so props to him for carrying around a ~220 lb Samurott through the sky, ehehe...

Nora (Umbreon, F): Strong and steadfast, and fiercely devoted to her friends. She's usually serious, but she's got her playful side. Took a bit to warm up to me, though.

Katsuko (Dragonite, F): Hilariously, though I doubt she played any part in her upbringing, Katsuko is like if you took Clair's competitive spirit and put it in a dragon. Most eager to fight out of everyone, and was easily my second ace once she fully evolved.

Feel free to ask about them--I can ask them questions on your behalf if you want me to.

-- OOC BENEATH THE READMORE --

Hey! This is a rotomblr I made using my pokesona after a friend of mine held me at rotarypoint convinced me to try making one. I'm pretty new to this stuff in general, but we'll see how this pans out in the end. I'll be figuring things out as I go for the most part. I'll probably just label my ooc stuff with (ooc) or something of the like. Lemme know if you have any tips, tricks, or whatever that you'd like to share! I'll probably follow you from @kupkastdashboard since I don't have the patience to manually switch over to Cooper's dash anytime I wanna like or rb something--

Also! Any ask memes I rb are technically open forever, since I don't think they deserve to happen just once and then never again. Just be sure to post the question associated with whatever you're referencing so I know what I'm answering! Links to my specific RBs of my favorites are below. I've answered some of these with Cooper, but with Pallas and Shia on the board, they're also open to be asked things. Just specify who you're looking for, otherwise I'll default to Cooper being the subject or pick one of my muses at random if he's already answered something.

Pelipper Mail! (Malice Coming Soon)

Memory Meme (#cooper's memories)

Legendary/Mythical

Thought Bubbles (#cooper's thoughts)

Fossil Ask Game

Headcanon Asks (Answered OOC)

Major Arcana Reversed

Muse In The News

Posts that look directly into Cooper's headspace at any given moment are labeled [#cooper's thoughts], and posts that describe a memory of his that's already happened will be labeled [#cooper's memories]. Neither of these are canonically posted by him, so keep that in mind if you want to make reference to them or leverage them for better or worse!

[your-local-grubdog]

Together in the Storm Chapter 7: Welcome Home

Story Summary: Olimar is back home once again, ready to rest and recuperate from everything that had happened. Yet the universe keeps throwing unwanted surprises his way, making rest difficult. He just wants to make his (now rather large) family believe that he’ll be okay. Because he is, for he has to be.

Chapter Summary: Louie must get used to his new living situation. (Or, Cetacea gets fuckin' roomba'd.)

Warning for abuse mention in this chapter!

Read on Ao3 here! Or keep reading below.

It was 10pm when Olimar got that phone call.

At first, he was annoyed. Who would call someone at this hour? It woke both him and Rosie up!

But then he saw the caller ID. Heard the broken and scared voice... Heard what had happened.

Annoyance was immediately replaced by fear, and soon he was off to save his boy.

Maybe "save" was too strong of a word. It felt too grand for what he was doing. But he was helping him - and making sure no more harm happened again.

That's how Olimar got to this point, one in the morning, exausted, and driving Louie back to his house. The young man sat in the passenger's seat, a backpack on his lap; in the seats behind them were two more backpacks. Just above Louie's left eye was a bandage, held onto his head with medical tape, covering a freshly stitched wound.

Louie could certainly be a handful. Olimar knew that better than most other people. But never would he dare lay a finger on the boy for it, let alone throw a fucking plate at him and nearly blind him in one eye. Taking a deep breath, the captain willed himself to try and calm down. He was just... So angry. So angry and terrified and maybe he acted on a whim but he had to do something. When Louie told him what had happened, he could practically hear the shattering of a beer bottle and the slurred screaming and lack of care from someone meant to protect you. His heart then broke when Louie apologized for needing to be taken to urgent care.

Olimar shared hushed whispers of terror to Rose, who was soon wide awake when she heard what happened. He couldn't let Louie stay there anymore, not if he was going to get hurt again. So, after a plea to his wife (one that was evidentially unneeded, given how she cut him off to say "yes"), he insisted that Louie come stay with him.

He agreed.

Olimar turned the car off, turning to Louie. "We're here, kiddo." He tried offering the boy a kind smile, but he was just so worn down that it probably didn't come through... Ah well. "T-Tomorrow, or whatever you're ready, we'll go back for the rest of your stuff. Okay?"

Louie was silent for several moments. Then, "This is all of my stuff."

Olimar looked over the three backpacks. They were overstuffed, sure, but did they really hold everything he owned...?

"Clothes, medicine, tooth brush, work badge and documents." Was Louie's only clarification.

"Oh... O-okay. That's fine. If we need to then we can take you out for more things. Okay?"

Louie didn't answer.

With a sigh, Olimar stepped out of the car and helped Louie carry his things. He unlocked the front door and let them both in.

"Welcome home, Olimar. Welcome, Louie." Cetacea replied as they entered.

"Hey." Was Olimar's only response as he sat down on the bench with a low groan.

"I no longer have optical receptors. May I ask how you are, Louie?"

"...'m okay." The young man mumbled out.

"Are you certain? Olimar was panicked when he left for you."

"I'll… be okay now."

When Cetacea didn't reply, Olimar echoed Louie's statement with "He will be, I'll make sure of it."

"Alright."

He then turned to Louie, gesturing to the shoe rack. "Just go barefoot for now. We don't mind." He explained, planning to do the same thing to make Louie comfortable... And to get this done sooner, as leaning down to take his shoes off (even with the help of the bench) still hurt so much.

The young man just nodded, struggling to find a slot to store his shoes. Then, he looked over to Olimar. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Oh shit, his groans of pain must have been noticeable. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, don't worry. Still recovering, that's all."

"... Uh-huh."

Olimar stood up then, still letting out annoyed sounds of pain. "F-Follow me, okay?"

Louie nodded, following the captain down the hall and up a flight of stairs. They were still torturous to climb up, but Olimar fought through it. He had to get through this. Had to. Once up he was breathing rather heavily but still didn't stop to rest, instead turning a corner to lead Louie to the guest bedroom... Well, it wasn't that anymore, was it?

"This is your room, Louie." Olimar managed out, opening the door. "It's not much yet, but you can make it your own."

Louie stepped into the generic-ly decorated room silently, looking around as he set his bags down. He quietly thanked Olimar as he took the bag that the older man was still carrying.

"Get some rest okay? You need it."

The younger man nodded. "Y-You too..."

Olimar paused for a bit, unsure how to respond. Then he managed out a quiet "Louie?"

"Yeah?"

"W-Welcome home."

======

"Oli?"

"Mrrrrm..."

"Oli, you gotta get up."

"Mmff, not yet."

"Sweetie, it's almost noon."

"Huh?" That woke Olimar up slightly, causing him to push up from the bed. "Noon?!"

Rose nodded, gently brushing his messy hair back. "You were out till one in the morning, I wanted to let you sleep in. But it just got so late, I..." She sighed. "I'm just worried."

Olimar groaned as he sat up fully, a dull pain throbbing down his back. At this point, he couldn't tell if he was actually getting better or if he was just getting used to this... "I know, I know, I'm sorry." Gods above, he had been sleeping in more and more lately, but this was a new low for him. Caused by the late night trip certainly, but he still had higher expectations for himself.

"You don't need to be sorry, hun." She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "But do come and eat, okay? Louie made us lunch."

Olimar nodded, pushing himself off the bed fully with a low groan. Gods above, when would the back pain go away?

He managed to get dressed just fine, though he was acutely aware of the fact Rose stayed nearby him. He felt so conflicted about that; he didn't need help, he shouldn't need help, he had to be the one taking care of her and their kids. But when he wobbled a bit and she leaned over to support him...

He's have to go back to work soon.

He didn't know what to do.

She stayed right by his side as they headed downstairs, a warm smell filling the air. Olimar's ears wiggled. Oh, he wasn't entirely sure what Louie made, but it smelled devine. Most certainly it would taste even better. He groaned a bit when he reached the bottom of the stairs, but still eagerly made his way into the kitchen with Rosie by his side.

Louie was frying up something, though Olimar couldn't quite tell what it was from here. He was also surprised to see his two littler ones nearby, both sitting at the kitchen table. They brightened up a bit when they saw their father entering the room.

"Good morning, Olimar," Cetacea spoke out from its kitchen node.

"Good morning, Cetacea."

"Feeling okay, dad?" Nova asked as Olimar walked closer.

The captain nodded, soon taking a seat at the table as well. "Yeah, just a little tired is all. S-Sorry for not warning either of you, I know you guys don't like big changes like this, but things were... Urgent." He turned to Louie, who was seemingly focused on just cooking. He had no idea if the boy could hear him.

"It's okay, papa." Nova answered, though Luna stayed quiet. She seemed more nervous, actually, probably not taking the change quite as well.

"You both have met him before, you know how nice he is." He offered, looking at Luna. "It'll take some time to get used to, but I promise that it'll start to feel normal. Okay?"

Luna paused for a moment before nodding. Olimar wasn't too worried, she sometimes went quiet in the same way Louie did. He trusted she would speak up when she was ready to.

"Lunch is ready." Rose then announced, helping Louie bring some food over. And oooohhhh man it looked delicious. Homemade chicken sandwiches, with some mac n cheese to the side. The mac n cheese appeared to just be store bought, though seemingly "upgraded" with some extra cheese being melted in.

"Oh, buddy, this looks heavenly!" Olimar let out a pleased chuff. "Thank you!"

Louie nodded, also taking a seat at the now crowded table. Soon, everyone began to eat, with Rose and Nova both eventually thanking Louie as well. The sandwiches were absolutely perfect, with just the slightest hint of spice and a good earthy flavor. The macaroni was... Boxed macaroni, nothing too special, but some extra cheese had indeed been melted into it which certainly helped a lot!

"Hey Louie?" Nova asked, causing the young man to look up at him. "What happened to your head?"

Rose turned sharply to her son. "Nova, that's rude to ask."

The boy merely shrugged as he took another bite of food. After swallowing, he replied with "I don't see why. Just wanna make sure he's okay, n' he's staying with us now, so…"

"Yes, but…" Rose paused then, clearly struggling to explain herself.

".... It's alright." Louie then mumbled. "... Tell me how you got that little scar on your chin. We’ll trade.”

Rose groaned as Olimar felt his stomach twist. “I - I don’t think-”

“Deal.” Nova replied, cutting his father off. “I got this climbing the biggest tree back at Medoh Elementary.”

Louie raised an eyebrow to Olimar, who sighed. “He was trying to show off to his friends. He hardly got far before falling and nicking his chin on something.”

“I did too get up high.”

“No, no you didn’t.”

Nova simply huffed in response before looking at Louie. “Your turn.”

Olimar felt ill, poking at his food as he eyed Louie nervously. Louie then merely responded with “A plate fell on me.”

The captain sighed with relief. A white lie, good. Nova didn’t need to know the details yet.

Nova, however, seemed unconvinced. “Really? A plate falling on you did that?”

Louie paused for maybe a moment too long before nodding.

“If you say so.” Nova huffed. Then, "Lunch is good."

Louie paused for a few moments before managing out a "Thank you. I - I can cook from now on, if you'd like."

Rose sighed as her ears leaned back. "Oh, no, you don't have to." When Louie responded with his own ears drooping, she quickly added on "You can if you want, of course. But you don't need to do so every day."

"You both like to cook," Olimar teased. "And you're both great at it. I think taking turns sounds good. Best of both worlds, I say!"

"Y-Yeah… just… staying, so wanna… help."

"I appreciate it." Olimar pat his shoulder, offering the boy a soft smile. "Still, I want you to enjoy your time here too. Was - was your room alright?"

Louie just nodded silently.

"So there's no longer a guest bedroom?" Nova then asked.

Oh boy, Olimar sighed as he realized what was happening. Good luck Louie, he needs to know exactly how this will all go… "Nope! It's his room now."

"... Where will auntie stay when she visits then?" Luna asked in a meek voice. Olimar's ears wiggled a bit, but he wasn't able to quite process the vague senses he got from the question and its tone.

"We'll find a space for her, I promise." Rose reached over to rub her daughter's back. "She hasn't been forgotten."

Luna didn't respond.

======

Louie helped Rose clean up after lunch. He felt a little… bad? Out of place. Yeah, that sounded better. He hadn't expected Olimar to insist upon him staying with him like that. He's never had someone fully and unconditionally care about him like this before. Originally, he wanted to refuse Olimar's offer. I'll be fine, he had wanted to say. This happens sometimes. I just needed a ride. Oh, but the panic in Olimar's voice, the kindness of the offer, how Louie knew he'd be happy here…

The panic in Olimar's voice. What he knew about the old man, or suspected at the very least.

He didn't want Olimar spending each day afraid for him. Frankly, he was done being afraid himself.

So he accepted.

"Thank you, Louie, for helping out today." Rose spoke with her back turned to him as she put away the now clean dishes.

"Oh… n-no problem…" he shuffled awkwardly in place. "Just… wanna help."

Rose nodded in response. "You go rest now, okay? Need to let your forehead heal."

Louie just shrugged but did as asked, stepping out of the kitchen. After that though, he sort of just… stood in the hallway. He didn't know what to do, actually. He normally occupied his time doing work or chores, maybe slipping away into the library on occasion. But what could he do here…?

His question was soon answered for him when he heard Nova call him over.

He walked over to the boy, who was standing right outside of Olimar's office, a bag in his hand. What in the realm below is he doing? "Uh… h-hey kiddo. What - what do 'ya need?"

The boy smirked as he looked up at him. In a quiet voice he said "I have a surprise for mom and dad. I just need you to keep watch… and help if anything goes wrong."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. "W-What is it?"

Nova just smirked more as he urged him into the tiny little office. Reluctantly, Louie followed. He watched as the boy sat down at Olimar's desk, turning the computer on.

"Olimar? Is that you?" Cetacea asked. At first, Louie wondered why it bothered asking. Then he remembered - it no longer had cameras. The machine could no longer see, only hear.

Nova jolted a bit before shaking his head. "Oh, uh, no. It's Nova."

"... Oh. Are you allowed to be in here?"

"Yes! Dad lets me all the time. Don't worry, I'm making a surprise for him."

"Hmm."

"You're involved too, Cetacea."

"Oh good Gods-" the ship groaned. Louie just raised his eyebrows. Cetacea was part of the plan? Just what did the boy have in mind?

After poking around the computer a bit, Nova eventually found what he was looking for. Smirking now, he reached into his bag and pulled out a large, gray disk. It was thick, with many buttons on top. He plugged it into the computer.

"What… is that?" Louie asked.

"Oh good, you brought adult supervision." Cetacea commented, getting an annoyed huff out of Nova.

"It's a vacuum cleaner, one of those little robots that does it all for you."

"Kid, where did you get that? Did you buy it?" Cetacea asked in an almost accusing tone.

"Well, no, it's too expensive for me-"

"You didn't steal it then, did you?"

"What!? No!" Nova growled. "What makes you think I would!?"

"Oh, can a robot not tease?"

"... Jerk." Nova grumbled. "No, I got it from Pluto. He had a broken robot he didn't want. Offered it to me if I helped him with one of his projects. So I helped him, then fixed this. All it needs now is an additional flare - to make it not just a cleaning robot, but a cleaning robot clearly from the Sonnen-Atwood family!"

"Should such a phrase scare me?" Cetacea groaned.

"Hm? Oh, I guess that's for you to find out in a bit." The boy had a damn near evil smirk on his face now as he plugged the bot into the computer to do… only the Gods knew what at this point.

"... If - if it's okay-" Louie began, gaining Nova's attention. "I don't think you've - mentioned your friends before."

Nova was quiet at first before shrugging. "Papa sees you as a kid too, right? That makes you my brother?"

Louie just shrugged.

"Then sure. Their names are Pluto, Pollux, and Castor. Pollux is on the baseball team with me, he can be a jerk but I like him. Pluto and Castor are on the robotics team together, they're both really smart…" he sighed a bit at that, which caught Louie's attention. He could just barely see a longish tail wag below the chair. All Hocotations had such a tail, though most were short and thus easily tucked away. Olimar, however, had an unusually long one - a trait he passed down to his son. "Absolute nerds, they could do anything when they put their heads together. They're incredibly smart. Pluto I've known forever, he's really shy and timid but the kindest soul I've ever known. Castor can be a jerk like his brother - he and Pollux are twins - but he's really confident and can talk his way into and out of just about anything…"

Cetacea seemed to snicker a bit, as close as it could get anyways. "You talked about Pluto and Castor far longer than Pollux."

"Huh?" Poor Nova's face blazed red, his fur fluffing up. "N-No I didn't!"

"Yes you did."

"Louie, tell the bot I didn't."

"You like them, don't you-"

"No!" Nova practically squealed, now even more flushed up. As both Louie and Cetacea began to snicker, he hid himself behind the computer monitor. "Both of you suck."

Louie was still snickering at the poor kid. Oh, to be thirteen, with your only worries in the world being next week's math test, which of your two nerdy crushes you liked more, and (evidently) if the family AI would tease you for having said crushes. In a rather bold move, he asked “Are these the same friends you were trying to show off to when you fell out of that tree?”

The boy merely growled in response, getting a laugh out of Louie and Cetacea.

After that, Nova typed a few things in silence, his fur still puffed up in agitation. After a few moments, Cetacea spoke in that generic feminine voice as it read off some diagnostics. Once done, it paused before asking "Oh… oh these new sensors are weird." Then, "Wait, why did you put me in the Gods damned vacuum cleaner bot!?"

Louie slowly blinked, too stunned to say anything in response. How in the realms below did he put the AI into the little bot??? And so easily too! Wouldn’t there be protections against such tinkering? Was the bot already homebrewed? Or was the kid just skilled?

Nova smirked before shrugging. "It's all autonomous. It's not like I'm getting you to do extra work. Besides, it lets you get around the house."

"I can't see or hear with this thing - well… sight is bizarre, I can sense well enough to function as intended, I suppose. Gods, this feels weird."

Louie just stared blankly. Then, "So it can… bug us again?"

Nova laughed almost evilly at that. "Well, if Cetacea chooses to, then yes."

"Oh. Oh I change my mind then, I love this. Thank you, Nova. Put me down, I wanna go and annoy Olimar now."

Nova snickered more. "Let me clean up here first, then I'll set you lose to wreak havoc amongst the house."

Oh boy… Louie sighed a bit as he watched Nova clean up the desk and get the computer ready to be turned off again. Once done, he put the little vacuuming bot bag in his bag and headed out. Louie followed, curious as to how this would go…

Olimar and Rose were in the living room, talking softly about something. They then quieted down a bit as they saw the two boys enter the room. "Ah, what's up kiddos?" Olimar asked, though Louie was able to note some small grunts of pain from him. He was just sitting too! He needs to go back to the doctor, but I don't think he will.

"I got you guys something." Nova answered, still smirking.

Rose's ears wiggled a bit at that. "You did?"

"Yes! Pluto gave it to me, and I fixed it up for you guys. I also added a Sonnen-Atwood flare."

"Should…" Olimar began raising an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"The fact that we both had the same response answers that question." Cetacea answered, causing both Olimar and Rose to jump slightly.

Olimar turned back to his son. "Oh boy, alright, what is it?"

Nova smiled wide as he pulled the bot out of his bag again, showing it to them. "It was busted up really badly. But I fixed it!"

"Oh! That's amazing dear!" His mother smiled back. "It'll help out so much."

"He - he also… also gave Cetacea… control over it."

Olimar stared a bit, blinking slowly. Then, he asked "What?"

"He did." Cetacea answered quickly. "Nova, set it down, I wanna run around a bit!"

Nova snickered as he did so. "You don't have much battery, just a heads up, so you'll have to charge soon."

"That's fine." The bot immediately began to explore the room. "Oh this is really weird, I'm not entirely sure where I'm going. Where's Olimar?"

"Out of your reach." The older man grumbled. "So you gave it the ability to be a nuisance?"

Nova merely smirked in response. "You're welcome!"

Olimar let out an over-dramatic sigh. "At least it can clean while it does… whatever it puts its mind to." A pause, then, "This is really impressive, though. Thank you."

Nova's smile softened a bit, though the mood was killed when Cetacea let out a loud "Ah!" followed by "Okay, that's a wall. And so is that-'' There was a weird disconnect between the robot’s location and Cetacea’s voice. Which made sense - the bot didn’t have speakers, so two separate machines were being used for it to speak and move. It would take some getting used to.

The boy just sighed as he walked over to pick the vacuum up again. "Let's get you charged up first, and then you can explore the house. Okay?"

"... Alright."

======

Louie stayed in his room for most of the day after that, trying to get used to it. He put his clothes and medicine away, but he didn’t really have anything else to his name with which to decorate.

… decorate. He had his own room now, to do whatever he wanted with. He didn’t need to sleep on that old couch anymore, which had served as his bed ever since he was small. He had a space that was truly and fully his own, with which he could do anything with. He sat on his bed as he took a moment to absorb that. He didn’t tell Olimar much about what life with Nana had been like, Olimar based this choice purely on what had happened last night. When he forgot to do some chore he wasn’t even sure if she asked him to do, and she got angry, and then…

Olimar didn’t know just how much he had done - was doing for Louie. He cared.

… he understood, maybe too well.

So he stayed in his room, watching TV and trying to process everything.

Eventually he was called down to have dinner, which was a fairly noisy event. The meal Rose had made for everyone was wonderful: pot roast, mashed Hocotate potatoes, Hocotation okra… Louie found himself digging right in really quickly, staying silent to focus on eating (and also because, frankly, talking was hard). Olimar seemed in a much better mood, though Louie could tell that the man was still in a lot of pain.

As they cleaned up after dinner, Olimar announced that they would be playing a board game as a family, and that Louie would be picking the game. Once he and dad had done their part, he was taken over to the shelf where all of the board games were kept. "Any one of these work, buddy!" Olimar spoke with a smile.

Scanning the shelf, Louie found mainly some general "generic" board games, nothing too out there and certainly nothing he's never heard of. A small smirk came to his face as he spotted a few specific titles. He wondered… "Monopoly?"

Olimar paused for a bit. "Ah, I-I'm sorry, can you choose something else? That game is a bit long and both Rosie and Nova are a little too competitive…"

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Nova called from the kitchen, earning a groan from his father.

"Hmm… Uno?" Louie asked, his smirk growing.

"Buddy, we're doing this to get to know you better, and get used to spending time with you. Not to want to strangle you. Which a certain BRAT I KNOW WOULD DO IF HE LOST!" Olimar's voice had a teasing tone to it, chuckling a bit.

"Bold words from you, after last game night!" Was said brat's response.

Louie rose his eyebrow. "What does Nova mean by that."

"Nothing." Olimar answered much too quickly.

Rose chuckled as she poked her head through the archway. "It means that Nova had to get his 'sore loser' trait from somewhere."

"I am NOT a sore loser!" Both Olimar and Nova squeaked out at the same time, leaving Rose to laugh more. Olimar crossed his arms and pouted a bit. "Just pick a game."

Still chuckling a bit, Louie grabbed one from the shelf. A bit tired from talking, he elected to just tap its box to get Olimar's attention.

"Yahtzee? Alright, yeah, we can handle that without bloodshed."

Still chuckling, Louie made his way back to the kitchen with the board game still in hand. Olimar took it upon himself to open it up and get it ready, though he eventually stopped to glare at Nova. "Nova, why is the vacuum bot on the table?"

"Oh, that's why I couldn't tell where I was…" Cetacea grumbled.

"How else is it supposed to play?" Nova asked. "It has to join family game night too. Don't worry, I cleaned it off."

"... It can't roll the dice."

"We can roll for it."

Olimar groaned. "Cetacea, are you fine with this?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll play. Nova, you roll for me."

"Bet!"

And so the game began, everyone passing the cup of dice around and rolling for a high score. There was laughter and loud talking as the family played and chated. Sometimes Luna would flinch as she shook the cup, eventually having her mother roll the dice for her. Around and around it went, but eventually they got to Luna only for…

"Wait, where's Luna?"

Olimar's worried voice got Louie's attention as he turned to him. Everyone else was looking around the room a bit. The small child had slipped away at some point, sending panic amongst the group.

"D-Did she head to her room?"

"I don't believe so. My sensors never detected her walking by." Cetacea answered. "Though, they didn't detect her leaving either."

"... I-I'.m gonna go check her room." Olimar got up and walked out. Rose and Nova followed, probably to look elsewhere in the house.

Louie sat there, still fuy processing what had happened. Then he began to wonder... Luna was so quiet during lunch, and quiet during the game, and now she seemed to have wandered away without being noticed. He looked over to the door to his left, noting it was slightly opened. Standing up now, he headed over and opened it fully to look down.

There was a small staircase on the other side, looking over the garage. It was chilly in there, but pleasantly so - at least by Hocotation standards. It was also quiet and darker than the rest of the house...

If he had wandered away, he would have wandered into here.

He went down the stairs, looking around. Sure enough, on the other side of the garage was Luna, sitting down on the grown where it was hard to see her. She didn't look upset, thankfully. He pulled out his phone to text Olimar really quickly - I found her, I'm gonna talk to her - before walking over to her. She looked up, then seemed to deflate as she looked away again. "Oh, hi Mr. Louie."

"... Just Louie is okay." He sat down next to her, staying quiet for a few moments before continueing. "It's peaceful here."

Luna nodded. "Quiet, too."

"Is that why you came here?"

She nodded. "It's quiet in other ways, too."

Ah, he understood that perfectly. "I get it. I like to wander to quiet places too."

"Really?" She looked up.

"Yeah, would scare grandma 'cus she couldn't find me..." He winced a bit at the memories, of how she would react. "You scared your parents too, just a bit."

"Oh, s-sorry..." She looked away. "Just thought, I'm still in the house..."

"Don't worry, I get it." He mumbled. "Next time... Tell someone? Maybe... Tell them f-four arm pats means you gotta leave, if - if talkin's hard."

She stayed quiet for a few moments before smiling wide. "Yeah - Yeah I can do that."

"Jus - Jus' make sure they look at you 'n nod if you do the arm pat, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He paused for a few moments, then "Was the game too loud?"

She shook her head. "No. Well... Everything's changing. You and Cetacea live here now and it's weird, and I guess that made game night seem loud."

"... I get it." He mumbled. "'M sorry this is all happenin' at once. But if - if I can do anything to help, let me know."

Luna nodded, then "I think I wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Alright." He stood up. "I-I'll let your mama a-and papa know. Okay?"

As she nodded again, Louie began to walk away. He'd tell Olimar what he told her, and make sure everything would be alright.

He had the feeling, though, that it would be.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 14 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Vince

Simon was waiting outside the clinic after my session.

He laughed seeing my surprised reaction to him being here.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here? You could have slept in, you didn't have to wait for me."

"It was hard to go back to sleep, anyway."

He shrugged.

"How'd it go?"

"Good."

"That's great. I'm surprised you kept to the sessions," he said before pausing.

"I mean that in a good way. I'm sure it's nerve-racking to let everything out like that or talk about things that are... painful but you've kept going I heard."

With a nod, I replied...

"It was long overdue, truthfully. I probably could've used Chase's advice a lot sooner, especially back then."

He nodded.

"Well, I was thinking I should probably grab my things from Sam's if you'd like to help."

"Yeah, sure."

His hand found mine.

"Xavier invited us over for dinner, by the way. Sarah will probably bring the actual food but he did say he'd try and make something."

"Hopefully, Grant or someone else is there to prevent a fire."

Simon laughed.

"He said he was getting better at cooking, we'll see about that. The poor kids."

"I'm sure Loreta is the one providing them meals," I half-joked.

"That or the kids are getting microwaveable food three times a day."

He scoffed.

"That's if he's remembering to feed them three times. He's nearly as bad as you with remembering to eat three times a day."

"I've gotten better about it."

"Yeah, we'll see about that. I'll make sure that you both eat actual meals."

Pulling into the lot of the three-story apartment, I found a stall a couple of stalls away from Sam's red pickup truck.

It wasn't until I put the car in park did Simon remove his hand from mine, unbuckling to get out of the car.

The drive to Sam's place wasn't long but we both stretched after stepping out of the car.

Compared to the nice building and surrounding new cars, his truck stood out like an eyesore.

As we walked past it I noticed that it even had a large dent on the front bumper.

Simon directed us to the stairs, which I found odd given it is a nice complex but then again I didn't see an elevator in sight.

"Yeah, there's no elevator," Simon commented on the second landing, stopping to catch his breath.

"Groceries were always a struggle."

"I bet."

Simon led the way down the hall before stopping at the second to the last door.

He knocked three times.

There was noise from inside until we heard the door unlock.

"Simon," Sam said as he opened the door.

They gave each other a side hug before Sam held out his hand toward me.

"Vince. Nice to see you again."

"Same."

I returned the gesture.

Sam held the door open, motioning for us to come in.

It was a small apartment, which only looked to be a one-bedroom,but it did look cozy and the kitchen was a decent size.

Still, it felt weird being in Sam's home and even weirder knowing that Simon had called this his home before too.

Sam shut the door behind us before making his way to the other side of the apartment.

"Most of it's already in boxes over here. There's a few of your stuff in the bedroom and things like toiletries are in the bathroom if you wanted to take any of it."

"Thanks," Simon said before looking towards me.

"It's kind of a lot more than just a bag like last time. Hope you don't mind."

We laughed as the pile of boxes were piled as high as the couch.

"That's nothing, you should've seen the amount of stuff Xavier had growing up. We had to rent a truck to donate all his old clothes and toys."

"I bet. He was telling me how spoiled he was as a kid."

"That's putting it lightly."

He grinned.

"Well, I'll go pack the other stuff if you'd like to help carry a few boxes down?"

I agreed, heading towards the pile of boxes.

Most seemed like boxes of clothes, while some of the smaller boxes had either kitchen or miscellaneous items from what Simon's handwriting said on them.

I started with the heavier boxes, taking two at a time if the boxes were smaller, remembering the building didn't have an elevator and Sam lived on the third floor.

Once I came back from my second trip down to the car, Simon and Sam had finished with the last of the boxes, bending down to pick up one of the bigger boxes on the floor.

Heading up and down those treacherous steps was not fun but it did give me time to think about what Chase had mentioned.

Love languages.

I maybe have heard the term a couple of times but never really gave it much thought.

As I watched Simon reach the car door, I wondered how the hell I would figure this out.

It didn't seem right to just ask him but how else was I supposed to know these kinds of things.

On the fourth way up the stairs, I looked between the two of them as they seemed perfectly fine after trekking the stairs.

After all, they were probably used to going up and down these flights of stairs over the years.

I hummed.

Maybe I didn't have to ask Simon, after all, Sam's been there for him the last couple of years.

Wouldn't he know the answer?

With three steps to the top, Sam had turned around, looking down at where I had stopped.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just out of breath," I said.

"I don't know how you two did this every day."

Simon turned from his spot by the door.

"Oh, it wasn't easy. It's also why we were late half the time to the clinic."

Practically crawling up the last remaining steps, I used the railing to brace myself as my lungs struggled to keep up.

Simon went inside to grab what I hoped was the last of the boxes as Sam went into the kitchen.

"I'll go and grab you a water."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no worries. Thanks for helping. I would've offered to drop everything off but I'd still run in the problem of getting it to my truck."

I laughed.

"I think your truck would struggle with all these boxes."

"Oh, for sure. Plus it would've taken like three times the amount of trips up these stairs."

"They're brutal."

"A killer workout, though. I gotta admit, my calves have never been more toned in my life."

"I bet," I told him, before looking over at Simon who found a couple of boxes from the other room.

He smiled at both of us.

"So there's a couple more after this that I missed. I can grab them after these. You two can rest."

Sam nodded before pouring himself a glass of water too.

I stared at my cup of water, almost in a trance as I thought about what it was like for Simon to be living here.

He was happy here, he had said at one point, said that it was nice living here and now he was packing up and moving in with me, again.

He was going to stay this time, he insisted that and yet my conversation with Chase had played over in my head. I had to show him that I wanted him to stay, that I care for him.

The closest person he's been with was Sam, so wouldn't it be obvious that he'd know how to show that?

They were still close friends, after all.

Sam should know what he likes and dislikes.

"Hey."

He turned to me.

"What's up?"

"I... um... can we talk?"

[emelkae]

Happy venting in the tags! Basically my dog wasn't doing well but he's improving fast, and I have nowhere else to talk about it.

[luminous-letters]

hiihii hope ur doing well!! May I request Savanaclaw crushing on a gn!s/o (well not quite their s/o yet) from diasomnia? wondering how would they react since diasomnia and savanaclaw aren't all that buddy buddy with eachother

what better bonding there is than getting your shit rocked by the npcs and have them treat you?

jack tries to act tough but ends up looking like a complete dork

"You're safe now. You're pretty stupid to come waltzing into Savanaclaw territory," Jack dusted the dirt and leaves off your uniform.

The two of you were hiding under a conveniently-placed rock, away from the beastmen that were out for blood.

Your blood, to be specific.

Jack was also injured himself. He had long scratch across his cheek from the exchange of claws and blows earlier. "You're hurt too, need some help?"

"No thanks. I don't want an outsider licking my wounds for me," he refused.

"And I think you should worry about yourself more," he pointed at your darkened bruises and dirtied scratches.

"I can handle myself, mind you."

"If you could've handled yourself," Jack stepped closer, leering at you, "I wouldn't have had to step in and meddle with some idiot's affairs," he was slowly closing the gap between you two, inch by inch.

"But I can't just stand there and watch you get your ass handed to you." his breath tickled your skin from his proximity.

"Too close," you pushed him off, and he seemed to be caught out of a trance.

"Oh— um, sorry about...that," he scratched the back of his head, refusing to face you.

"We should get these checked," you tried to change the topic, hopefully making the atmosphere between less awkward.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," you told him only to reel back in pain the moment you set your right foot down. "I'm sprained."

"No shit," Jack huffed, picking you up bridal-style. You couldn't help but notice that he was breathing heavier than earlier, even when he was panting from the fight.

Was he sniffing you?

"Let's go," he told you, hanging you over his shoulder. If his goal was to prevent you from seeing his face, your position gave you a perfect view of his bushy tail. Which was wagging intensely, you notiiced.

"Sunday...you free by Sunday?" he asked you.

"Not really, but I could cancel some stuff if you've got something planned. Do you?"

"N-no, I don't have anything planned. I just thought that...uh."

"One of Draconia's lackeys? Aren't you afraid of getting torn apart? I can't hold these guys forever, you know~" Leona laughed, tossing his head back.

"Stay back!"

"You're cute, I'll give you that," he crouched down to your level, his emerald eyes grew more sinister under the dim light.

"You should know better than to incur Diasomnia's wrath," you growled, moving backwards, away from him.

Leona only laughed harder.

"What wrath? I doubt an injured cutie like you could do much anyway," he brushed the dust off your hair. "Listen, I'm the king here. And you should be thankful that you're still in one piece, if anything."

You expected a quick end, or an agonizing doom from the rumors you've heard circulating your dorm.

"You look pretty bad, huh. One of the boys must've gone all out."

Leona Kingscholar, the cunning mind that plotted Malleus Draconia's doom. Underhanded scum and a pretentious ruler.

"Any serious injuries I should know of? None? Good. I don't want to deal with paperwork," he lifted you up the ground like you weighed nothing.

What?

"Where are you taking me?"

"Infirmary, Einstein."

"You could've just let me leave on my own."

"Now how am I supposed to carry you like this if I did that?" he winked.

Oh...

"Run along now, you're probably gonna be late for one of your communal Malleus-worship ceremonies," Ruggie snickered at your roughed up figure.

You hated this man, always laughing with that condescending look on his smug face.

Just like his dorm leader, the very same man who tried to kill Malleus Draconia in cold blood.

Ironically, it was Ruggie that swooped in and convinced his peers to not eat you alive. You were thankful for that, but not his constant giggles and uncalled-for insults.

"Lucky you, if it was anyone else they might've been supper by now," he cackled again, finding humor in the strangest things.

"I'm not someone who leaves a debt unpaid, so—"

"You're gonna offer payment, right? This day just keeps getting better and better," Ruggie grinned. "A hundred Thaumarks, throw in some lunch while you're at it."

"I can't— that's too expensive!"

"So is making those guys stop, but you don't see me complaining," Ruggie opened his palm, as if to say 'gimme your money'.

"Can't I at least have a minute to spare for my wounds?" you gestured to the aftermath of earlier's scuffle.

"How about I treat your wounds?" Ruggie had a look of concern on his face.

"How much does it cost?" you huffed.

"Eh, I was about to do it for free. But since you so kindly offered," Ruggie smiled from ear to ear.

[starks-hero]

Right a Wrong

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You, Sam and Bucky get to work repairing Sam’s family boat. Turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. But with help from you and Sam, Bucky figures some stuff out.

Word Count: 3,745

Warnings: a bit of a make-out session but not enough to be classed as smut, tfatws spoilers! 1x05

a/n: This is a direct result of watching episode 5 too many times. Spoilers below!

|| Part Two ||

Small waves lapped gently against the dock and the afternoon sun warmed your back as you worked on the old boat.

You were standing side by side with Bucky, crowbar in hand as you attempted to pry off the old metal cleats from the boats side, whilst he expertly pulled rusted pipes apart and threw them into a pile. As if on queue, one of the pipes on the opposite side of the ship burst, hissing and spurting out white clouds of steam. You marvelled at how quickly Bucky reacted, quickly crossing the deck and sealing the leak with an abrupt upward turn of the pipe with his metal arm.

"Where did you learn so much about fixing boats?" You teased, motioning to the now fixed pipe with your crowbar. Bucky dusted off his hands.

"I used to work on the docks in Brooklyn before the war." He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow and taking a seat on a crate next to you. "I picked up a few things."

He furthered his point by leaning over and pulling at the cleat you'd been grappling with. It came away from where it was attached to the boat's side with ease in Buckys iron grip. He smirked as he tossed the scrap aside and you rolled your eyes.

"Show off."

Bucky chuckled, sitting back as Sam stepped onto the boat. He was carrying a crate in one hand and shook his head when he noticed Bucky's smirk and your dismissive smile.

"Alright, you two." He placed the crate down and pulled out two green bottles, throwing one to Bucky and handing you the other. "Beer break."

Sam took a seat across from you both and you sighed as you opened your beer, raising it up to Bucky.

His annoyance was discredited by the fond smile that broke through his expression as he begrudgingly clinked his bottle with yours. You reached over and did the same with Sam as the three of you relaxed under the heat of the Louisiana sun.

"It's starting to look good," you noted as you glanced around the boat and Sam smiled.

"Yeah, it's coming together." He took a swig of his beer. "You know, Sarah and I were talking." He started and both you and Bucky glanced up at him. "And we could use the help. Don't suppose you two would consider staying around a while? Just till we get a lead on Karli."

The offer caused a noticeable smile to pull at your lips whilst Bucky shifted beside you at Sam's words. His agitation grew and he stood.

"I've got my plane to catch tomorrow, a hotel room for the night," he said, raising his bottle to his lips to hide his doubt. He really didn't have that much of a plan beyond that.

"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged.

"Well, I don't want to make it weird for your family."

"Just stay here," Sam said and you couldn't help but nod subconsciously. The truth was you really didn't really want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's and spending the day fixing up an old run-down family boat that made everything seem so normal. It gave you a sense of home, a sense of normality that you hadn't had in a long time. For a while, it even made you forget about the flag smashers, Walker, all of it. It was a much-needed break.

"The people in this town are the most welcoming in the world. They don't care if you wear small t-shirts or if you've got six toes or if your mom is your aunt-"

You laughed and Bucky barely hid a chuckle behind a huff of breath and a bright smile.

"Okay, I get it. The people are nice."

You placed your bottle aside and turned to Sam.

"You're sure Sarah doesn't mind?" you asked and Sam's smile only widened.

"She's the one that offered."

Grinning, you sat back and nodded. "Then I don't see why not."

"See?" Sam pointed to you and then Bucky. "Just stay, man."

Bucky shuffled his feet for a moment before finally answering with a begrudging, "Okay. Alright." He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the boat.

"He'll come around. He probably just wants his space." You said, picking up your beer. Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own drink.

"I hope you're right."

You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in a while. Your hands and back hurt slightly from the tiring work on the boat, but it was a dull ache compared to the constant throbbing that came after a mission. Your cheeks were warm, surely as a result of the hours spent out in the sun the day before.

Both you and Bucky stayed the night. Sarah had offered you the spare room and after a solid fifteen minutes of bickering, you finally conceded to Bucky and agreed to sleep in the guest bed. He took the couch.

The sun was just beginning to rise up over the water when you and Bucky both headed back out to the boat. Sam joined you not long after. You worked until mid-afternoon, reluctantly taking short breaks. You fell into a quick rhythm as you worked around the boat. Surprisingly, the three of you seemed to make a pretty decent team off of the battlefield.

"Hey, can you pass me a 12-300?" Sam asked from under the boat's control panel. Bucky reached into the toolbox and placed the wrench in Sam's outstretched hand. A few seconds later Sam was rolling out from under the controls and glaring disapprovingly at Bucky.

"What?"

"I asked for a 12-300," Sam stated plainly. "This is a 10-250."

"No, it's not." Bucky bit back.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Hey, geniuses." You cut their bickering short as both men turned to look at you. You held up the grease-slick wrench that had been misplaced and tossed it to Sam. "You left it below deck when you were working on the engine."

Sam muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he got back to work. Silence settled over the three of you for a few minutes until Sam decided it was getting awkward.

"So, are you still planning on leaving tonight?" He asked from under the station and Bucky nodded, before realising Sam couldn't see him.

"Yeah," he said loud enough for Sam to hear. "I'll be out of your way soon."

You could hear Sam's sigh from beneath you as he clambered back to his feet and stood between you and the super-soldier leaning against the wall of the cabin.

"Well, there's no hurry."

Sam didn't say anything else as he cleaned the oil and grease from his hands with a cloth and stepped off the boat. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back behind him.

"Go," you ordered plainly and he looked up at you.

"What?"

"Go," you said again, nodding your head towards where Sam was walking away. "You both need to talk. Bucky, whatever you're not saying, it's getting to you. So go talk to him."

Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He glared at nothing in particular but his gaze softened when it found you and he muttered a quiet, 'fine.' You stepped aside as he made his way past you and stepped up onto the dock, heading after Sam.

"And don't be a smart ass!" You called after him. He didn't reply, but you could only hope that Sam and Bucky's conversation would be somewhat constructive.

"Nice shot!" You retrieved the football from the back of the goal as Cass, Sam's eldest nephew, celebrated his score.

Once Sam and Bucky had left the boat, you had headed back to the house, helping Sarah with any errands or chores, doing anything you could to help out. Sam and Bucky had been gone a little over an hour and you didn't know if that meant their talk was going very well or very not. You'd been sitting rather uselessly on the couch, waiting in anticipation, when Sam's nephews had invited you to play a game of football. And how could you refuse?

You tossed the ball back to the boys who eagerly pounced at it. You were stood in the small goal, allowing both boys to take as many shots as they wanted. AJ stepped forward and kicked the ball, groaning when it flew off to the left, a few meters away from where you were standing and missed the net entirely. He glanced down at the ground, disheartened.

“Hey, it's alright, AJ.” You smiled as you ran to grab the ball and passed it back to him. “Come on, try again.”

With encouragement from his brother, he took the shot and this time the ball planted itself in the top corner of the goal. Both boys cheered as they celebrated and you smiled. You dusted yourself off, your knees and hands covered in dust from the football game as you turned to head back inside the house. Both boys protested as you left but you promised them you'd be back. The more time you spent with AJ, Cass, Sam and Sarah, the more you didn't want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's that made you feel content. It was homely and offered a sense of normality that the last few weeks had caused you to miss.

You entered the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Sarah had told you over and over again to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, glass in hand and just basked in the feeling of not having to worry about donning a suit and risking your life at a moments notice. It was something you could get used to.

“That was adorable.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a voice and you found Bucky joining you in the kitchen. He was smirking fondly.

“You and the boys.”

You chuckled softly and shrugged. “They're sweet kids.”

Bucky nodded, pulling a glass of his own from the shelf and filling it with water from the tap. It furthered the sense of domesticity that you were really starting to love. He took a seat at the table across from you.

“So,” you started as you placed your own glass aside. “How did it go? You and Sam.”

Bucky chuckled and you couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine, but something about the grin that lingered on his lips had you banking on the latter.

‘‘Not bad,” he admitted eventually with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked. He said if I'm going to fix anything, if I'm going to get what's left of him out of my mind.” Bucky subconsciously ran his hand across his temple. “I'm going to have to put in the work. Help the people I wronged instead of just saying sorry.”

You nodded, silently making a note to thank Sam later on. He always had a way with words, he could always get through to people. That's why he was given the shield.

“He's got a point.”

Bucky scoffed and hung his head at your words. “I should have known you'd be on his side.” There was no hostility in his words. He just sounded amused, and maybe a little tired.

“I don't think this comes down to whose side I'm on, Bucky. We both want what's best for you.” You answered honestly and Bucky glimpsed up at you. He anxiously toyed with his hands as you spoke, looking vulnerable, and slightly lost despite how hard he tried to hide it. You knew Sam had already spoken to him, but it couldn't hurt for you to say something as well.

“Look Bucky, telling yourself that you're okay and that everything that happened doesn't matter anymore because you've made 'amends' isn't going to help.”

He sighed, shuffling his feet against the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I know,” he admitted quietly.

“And I know you're probably tired of hearing this but, you're not him anymore, Bucky. You're not the winter soldier. Everything you did whilst you were him wasn't your choice. Just because you remember it doesn't mean that it was your fault. It's not your responsibility to fix it.”

Bucky sighed but didn't interrupt. He was listening. This wasn't like the therapist that he was forced to sit in front of and lie to every other week. This was someone he trusted, someone whose words he valued. Someone he honestly believed could help. He sighed but nodded to show that he was still listening.

“I think Sam’s right,” you said. “It might not be your responsibility to fix everything that went wrong but trying could help. It could give you that closure that you keep chasing after. You need to let go, Bucky. You need to forgive yourself. Maybe you just need the people who are hurting to forgive you first. Then you can learn how to do the same.”

Bucky's expression was unreadable. So many emotions flashed across his eyes you found it difficult to pinpoint just one.

“How do I start?” he asked quietly. It just seemed impossible. There were so many people he'd hurt, so many people he'd wronged. He'd left children as orphans, wives as widows and parents childless. How could he possibly start trying to fix or make all those people feel in any way better?

You smiled softly at his question. “Small. One at a time,” you said simply. “Then just keep putting one in front of the other.”

Bucky considered your words, glancing down at his hands as he thought. Before long, a small smirk pulled at his lips.

“I can't decide who'd make a better therapist. You or Sam,” he joked and you laughed, shaking your head dismissively.

“Well, Sam did council veterans so I think he takes that title.”

“I'd say it's pretty tied,” Bucky said, walking across the kitchen and standing next to you as he washed his glass, drying it off and placing it back on the shelf. The room fell into a comfortable silence.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said after a moment, his tone sincere and his expression genuine as he looked at you. You nodded, gently placing your hand against his shoulder.

“Don't mention it. You know I'm always here if you need to talk.”

The sound of a football colliding with the wall dangerously close to the window followed by two voice's loudly shouting, 'sorry!' in unison drew a quaint laugh from you both.

“Duty calls.” You grinned, patting Bucky on the back as you passed him. “Team Wilson is missing its goalkeeper.”

Bucky chuckled, watching you go. You crossed the kitchen but his voice stopped you just as your hand reached the doors handle.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around to face him and couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more apprehensive than he had before.

“Yeah?”

He exhaled slowly, willing himself to tell you what was on his mind.

“I was just thinking things over and you know, I’m leaving today,” he hesitated slightly before glancing up at you. “And I guess I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

Your hand slipped from where it was still holding the brass handle of the door. You tilted your head as your mind fully processed his question. The shock must have been evident in your expression as Bucky rushed to continue.

“I know you're planning on staying here and I get why.” He pulled a tattered red book from his pocket which you immediately recognized as Steve’s. He began absentmindedly turning the pages, running his fingers over the paper. “I want to try and start fixing things, making things right. But truth is I have no idea where to start. I thought that maybe you could help me with that?”

“I thought you wanted your space," you admitted after a moment.

“No.” He shook his head. “That's the last thing I want.”

You thought it over, resting your back against the door. Bucky trusted you, evidently a lot more than you thought he did. Not only was he comfortable enough telling you how he felt and admitting he didn't know what to do next. But he also wanted you with him. It was clear he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm you by admitting just how badly he wanted you to go with him. But the way he eagerly watched you as he waited patiently for your answer was a dead give away.

You wanted to help Bucky, you wanted to be there for him. If that meant helping him right his wrongs and staying with him during that trying time, at least until Sam got a lead on Karli and the Flag Smashers, then you were more than happy to comply.

“You're sure about this?” you asked and Bucky pushed off the counter and crossed the room, stopping just in front of you.

“Absolutely.” His voice dropped down to a hushed whisper. “Come with me.” His hand gently caught your wrist, his fingers running up your arm. His face was inches from yours now, your breaths mingling. “Please?”

His lips pressed to yours before you could answer and you immediately kissed back. Your hand fell against his shoulder, the other laying gently against the nape of his neck. He groaned quietly against you, his arms finding your waist as he gently guided you backwards till your back met the wall. He pressed into you, his hands roaming up your body and you moaned as he deepened the kiss.

“Yes.” You answered when he pulled away slightly and he smiled against you, relieved. Neither of you said anything else as Bucky sighed and pulled you closer, his thigh slipping between your legs as he pinned you to the wall.

God, he'd wanted to do this for so long. Wanted to kiss you, to feel you against him. He wanted you. Your hand slipped into his hair and you pulled him closer, smirking against him. You'd wanted this just as bad. And you both only had your own stubbornness to blame for taking so damn long. It didn't matter now though. Not as he gently bit down on your lower lip and you slipped your hand under his shirt and felt up his chest. It all felt so natural, so right.

“Ten minutes.”

Both your eyes flew open at the all too familiar voice, Bucky pulling away from you so quickly he only barely avoided falling over a nearby chair.

“I left you two alone to talk for ten minutes,” Sam repeated from where he was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. You tried to subtly smoothen out your clothes whilst Bucky ran his hand through his tangled hair.

“We were,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “We were talking. We...talked.”

Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced, and smirked. He reclined against the counter, showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. A painfully awkward silence settled over the kitchen as Sam continued to shift his knowing stare from you to Bucky.

The humiliation of the entire situation seemed to get to Bucky first as he clasped his hands together after less than a minute.

“You know, what? I'm leaving in a few hours and I've got to pack so I better just go-” Bucky rambled as he shot you a subtle apologetic look before turning to Sam, who was nodding along in faux agreement to his pathetic attempt of an excuse.

Bucky quickly crossed the kitchen, Sam harshly patting him on the back as he passed him and left the room. Leaving just you and Sam alone. You turned to your friend and found that he was still grinning at you with that same mischievous look in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. In an attempt to act as though Sam hadn't just walked in on you and Bucky making out, you tried making normal conversation.

“Sam, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I know I said I was going to stay for a while but I guess there's been a change of plan. I-”

“I know.” He cut you off and his smile only widened when you looked at him in utter confusion. “You honestly think he would have asked you to go with him if I didn't tell him to get his shit together first?”

Your confusion slowly melted away and was replaced with a look of disbelief. You laughed despite yourself. You should have known Sam had something to do with it. ‘‘How long have you been playing cupid?” you asked jokingly and Sam chuckled.

“He needs you, Y/N. More than he wants to admit,” Sam said, tone now more serious than before. “Things will be fine here, I'll call you as soon as Torres finds us something to work with. But right now, he needs your help before that hole he's stuck in gets too deep for him to climb out of.”

You sighed as the weight of Sam's words set in. He was right, Bucky really did need you. That wasn't a responsibility you could afford to take lightly. Not that you planned to.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said genuinely and Sam smirked as he crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He could tell you needed it.

“Anytime.” He pulled away and offered you a warning glare. “But I swear, if you two making out the minute I turn my back becomes a regular thing I'm going to kick both your asses.”

“Got it,” you nodded, barely stifling a laugh.

Sam's scowl melted into a smile and he motioned towards the stairs. “Go on, get your things together. You've got a plane to catch in a few hours.”

You smiled and headed upstairs after Bucky. Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and a satisfied smile. Getting you two together had taken more work than he'd thought. But he knew it would be worth it, you both needed each other. Whether you were willing to admit it or not. And Sam was confident that if there was anyone that could help Bucky and offer him that sense of home and peace that he was so desperately craving, it was you.

tag list: @bakerstreethound​ @miraclesoflove​ @doozywoozy​ @kealohilani-tepise

[procrastinatorimagines]

Off Limits

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Series: One Shot

Pairing/s: Severide x Reader

Warning/s: None

Word Count: 1179

Summary: Hey, would you do a one-shot where the Reader is Otis' best friend and comes visiting the station pretty often. So it happens that you catch the attention of Kelly and he tries getting in touch with you which catches the attention of Otis who gets protective. But as he sees how great you and Kelly act together he supports Kelly in asking you out. Hope it's not weird 😊

You lived pretty close to Firehouse 51, and with your work hours you were often home when your old friend Otis was on shift, bringing him food and keeping him company when you could.

Kelly noticed you straight away the first time you walked through the doors, but out of respect for Otis he kept his distance. That is, until you arrived at the firehouse when Truck, Engine and 61 were on call.

Kelly had been sitting at the Squad table when you arrived, noticing you looking around for people before catching sight of him waving and wandering over, a bright smile on your face.

Sorry Otis, he thought to himself, unable to keep his distance from you any longer.

"Hey Y/N," he smiled, pushing out a chair for you to sit on.

"Hey Kelly, where is everyone?" You asked, taking the seat with thanks and putting down the box of cookies you were carrying.

"You just missed them on a call, not sure when they'll be back," he told you, eyeing the food.

"Help yourself," you said, noticing his gaze, "had some neighbours over yesterday and we had leftovers, so I figured I'd bring them here."

He took one gratefully and smiled as he took a bite, "you make these? They're amazing."

You blushed a little and tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded, cursing yourself for your schoolgirl crush on the lieutenant in front of you. Otis would blow a fuse if he knew.

"You bake often? I hadn't realised you made a lot of the stuff you brought," Kelly continued, and so it went on.

You hadn't had a proper conversation with Kelly without Otis stepping in, and it was a nice change of pace. You relaxed a lot more with him as the time ticked on, usually quite nervous around him.

The engines are still out by the time your phone buzzes, reminding you you have your own shift starting soon and you need to get home. "Wow, is that the time already?" You laughed.

Kelly checks his watch, "I guess so, time really did fly," he smiled then added, "thanks for keeping me company."

"Any time," you replied, trying to sound casual as you stood.

"I'll let Otis know you stopped by, it was good to see you Y/N," he said.

"You too Kelly," you told him, preparing to leave when he stopped you.

"Hey, if you want, I can text you when he gets back, just to, you know, let you know he's alright," Kelly stumbled through the words a little.

"That'd be good, thanks," you paused for a moment, then added with a realisation, "oh, right, you'd probably need my number for that."

"Yeah, if that's okay, I could just get Otis to text you too..." He began.

"No, I don't mind," you fished your phone out your purse and gave him your number, waving to him as you left with a bit of a spring in your step.

Kelly definitely hadn't needed to ask for your number, but you weren't going to complain.

You smiled when you got his text later, and continued to smile over the next week when you began texting back and forth, little things at first, you offering to bring some food to the firehouse but checking what people liked, him mentioning something funny that had happened to Otis... but then more generally, about your days, your interests, your lives really.

Otis found out pretty soon, though. Kelly had left his phone on the Squad table to help Boden with something and Otis had walked by, seeing your name and message pop up on the screen.

Oh no you don't, Otis thought, jaw clenching. He made his way into the common room, still thinking about you and Kelly, when he rounded the corner and bumped into Severide coming from Boden's office.

"Watch where you're going," Otis snapped, harsher than he had intended. But Kelly... Kelly knew you were Otis' friend, one of his best friends, you were like a sister, yeah, that's what it was, it was like his friend and his sister were sneaking around behind his back.

"Geez, sorry," Kelly replied watching as Otis shouldered past him without another word. Kelly looked to the others in the room, matching Cruz's confused look before he turned to where Otis was stopped by the fridge.

"Is something going on?" Kelly asked, making his way towards him. He might not be Otis' lieutenant, but he was still his superior officer, and a friend, and he had no idea what he'd done to deserve the literal cold shoulder.

"You tell me," Otis turned back around and met Kelly's puzzled look, "I know about you and Y/N."

Kelly's confusion fell and he shook his head, "okay, and what about me and Y/N?"

"What are your intentions?" Otis asked, getting protective.

"My intentions?" Kelly let out a short laugh, "Otis, I like her, I like talking to her, and I'd like to spend time with her, what are you getting angry about?"

Otis rolled his eyes, "I'm angry, because I care about her, and I don't want her to be another one of your girls, whose hearts you break when you get bored and leave them."

"Wow, back up a second, you don't get to talk to me like that, you have literally dated my sister Otis, I didn't think you'd have a problem with me dating your friend," Kelly added, not appreciating Otis' tone.

"Well-" Okay, Otis thought, Kelly did have a point, but- "you still should have told me."

"I don't need your permission Otis," Kelly shot back.

The others in the room were listening intently, not sure whether to intervene, though Cruz was looking like he was about to.

"Hey guys," a small voice cut through the tension, your voice, standing in the doorway with a box in your hand, looking cautiously around the room, wondering what was going on.

The anger building up in Kelly and Otis both evaporated when they say you. Otis noticed it, the look on Kelly's face when he took you in, and he softened, realising that maybe he had been a little quick to judge.

"Okay fine, I'm not happy about it but," he sighed as Kelly turned back to face him; Otis stood as tall as he could to try and meet Kelly in the eyes, rising onto his toes a bit, "just don't hurt her, you may be bigger than me, but I will make you pay if you do."

Kelly laughed, "good to know." He turned back to face you, wandering over when he saw you were still unsure whether it was safe to go in.

"Everything okay?" You asked, well aware of who had just been arguing and worried you might have been the cause.

"Never better, you want to grab dinner tonight?" He asked suddenly.

You blinked, but smiled, "yeah, sure, definitely."

"Hey!" Otis called, getting both of your attentions, "you better be a perfect gentleman."

"Cross my heart," Kelly promised, and you all laughed.

[under-sedationnn]

the arcana: main six reacting to injured! reader

anonymous: Could u do m6 reacting to mc coming home injured? I want some hurt/comfort >:))

Warnings: talk of being injured, blood. if that bothers you or tiggers you in anyway, please scroll away! i want this to be a safe place, only :)

thanks for the request anon!! i hope you enjoy!! <3 requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- tries his very very best to stay calm

- you can see panic bubbling under the surface

- faust is on high alert

- slithers around your shoulders and squeezes you for a hug

- "friend! hurt!"

- doesn't immediately ask what happened, just gets you to a comfortable place to be cleaned up

- then, and only then, will he brave to ask what happened to you

- or who did this to you

- wipes the blood from your skin with very gentle swipes

- winces when you wince, and apologizes profoundly

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "i fell in the market, tripped over a stone"

- "and nobody helped you?"

- in this case he's disappointed with the bystanders, but does not become angry

- in a situation where someone hurt you?

- oh god

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "yeah, well, somebody had their eye on the same apple i picked up. somehow, though, they managed to push me to the ground and steal it from my hands."

- i don't even think he would know what to say

- and asra is not really the type to march out into the streets of vesuvia and seek to challenge the one who hurt you

- but he would certainly hold a grudge against whoever it was if he did find out

- and would feel absolutely awful about letting you get hurt

- his mind would race about the possibility of losing you again

- because he simply can't handle it

- and what if that person had been particularly violent or malicious? what if you had been taken??

- you'd have to comfort the hell out of him to make sure he knows that you're okay

- "asra, hey, i'm fine! i can handle myself, you know that"

- "you're right, and i know you're right. it's just hard"

- "it's still hard for me, too. the market still makes me a little nervous and i got caught a little off guard, is all"

- that would make him feel better

- would finish patching up your wounds and would make sure to bring you to julian the next day if they were too bad for him to fix or needed stitches

- would also create a special brew to help with the pain and ease you to sleep

- "why don't i go down to the market tomorrow?"

- "why? so when you pick a fight over apples, i can pay you back for all of this high quality medical treatment?"

- "well of course, surely you didn't expect all this tender love and care to be free" *wink*

- panicked doctor mode enabled

- immediately begins checking you over, asking questions

- something tells me it would be a head injury of some sort

- "oh darling, what happe- you're bleeding!"

- "julian, i'm okay! it's just a little scratch"

- "no no no you might need stitches, come sit down. i'll go get my kit!"

- there's really no use in arguing

- he has cold ass hands, so he tries to warm them up before he begins suturing the wound

- tries to be gentle, and his expert hands move quickly without any snagging

- "so, how did this happen?"

- his voice is literally trembling

- "well, i was in the clinic grabbing the list of ingredients we need for our next grocery trip and there was a puddle of... something on the floor. i slipped and hit my head on the corner of your desk"

- immediately thinks it's his fault

- like "oh shit i should have cleaned better that could have killed y/n and then what would i have done-"

- doesn't necessarily voice this, but you can tell by the silence that follows that he's feeling really guilty

- would kneel for you, head on your knees

- "y/n, i am so sorry"

- "juli, it's really okay, i should have watched where i was going"

- "i'll make sure to clean better from now on, okay?"

- would guard you throughout the night in case of concussion

- nurse juli <3

- but let's say someone had put their hands on you

- would patch you up the same way, and apologize profusely for not being there with you

- tuck you into bed and fetch mazelinka to keep an eye on you throughout the night incase of a concussion

- would most definitely be self destructive and seek that mf out

- maybe not successfully, but would try his hardest

- "i'll be back in the morning, get some rest"

- "I can find them myself if I want to, you know"

- embarrassed blush

- because he KNOWS you can take care of yourself

- "of course, but right now you're hurt. as your partner, i will do what must be done on your behalf darling"

- probably shows up the following morning with battle scars of his own

- the guards found you in the garden, passed out in the maze

- blood trickled down your arm, a large gash marking your bicep

- ran you up to the palace and immediately to the medical wing

- them]n nadia gets word

- the calm, collected queen act disappears

- abandons anything she's doing, anybody she's talking to

- "we will finish this at a different time, i have more important matters to attend to"

- she is so worried and it's honestly adorable

- very much giving "where tf are they?" energy

- god i love her so much

- anyways um

- asks the nurses over and over what happened, if you're okay, etc.

- watches the physicians and nurses like a hawk as they clean the wound and suture the cut

- and they're so intimidated lmao they never come face to face with her literally ever

- brushes your hair back from your face as they do so

- holds your hands

- would demand that you be brought to her sleeping chamber

- so that's where you wake up! how cute

- she's laying beside you, her brows furrowed

- maybe even her eyes are a little hazy

- "y/n, sweetheart, do you remember what happened?"

- patiently waits for your answer, you're still a little groggy

- you were either attacked by an animal and passed out from the fright

- or you were attacked by an armed person and was knocked out

- either way, the guards are on it

- nadia isn't letting whoever or whatever did this get away without a fight

- the palace is meant to be a safe haven for you

- for the both of you

- "well, don't you worry, we'll take care of that"

- you try to sit up but she won't let you

- "oh no, you must stay down, y/n. you are possibly concussed from the fall"

- "oh okay, sorry"

- "is there anything i can get you?"

- the countess of vesuvia, serving you in your time of need

- "just some water would be nice"

- "of course, i'll have some brought up right away"

- i literally feel like he would just start crying straight up

- cause like he has some problems anyway

- he big sad boi

- and you coming home to the hut bleeding from a gash in the arch of your foot is not helping

- picks you and carries you to the bed without a word

- just starts examining the cut

- inanna is also very concerned

- she licks the blood from the cut, she's trying to be helpful

- meanwhile muriel is stumbling around the hut looking for anything to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, bandage it, anything

- but he's not the best about keeping that stuff in stock

- keeps looking back at you with worry in his eyes

- he doesn't know what to do

- "muriel, let me see if i can contact asra. maybe he or julian can bring me a salve. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna need stitches"

- low-key makes him feel worse

- cause he feels like he's unable to care for you and keep your safe

- even tho this was just an accident

- he's breathing really fast, his anxiety creeping

- agrees anyway, but goes to get them himself

- "i'll be back soon, just keep this piece of cloth pressed against it"

- cause you're bleeding like a lot

- inanna stays behind

- he returns very quickly with julian in tow, though he doesn't look happy about it

- leaves the hut without another word

- julian gets to work immediately

- "so, you cut your foot i see"

- smartass.

- "yeah, muriel always tells me to put on shoes when i walk in the woods but i love to feel the grass beneath my feet"

- julian chuckled at this

- "and i'm assuming you, what, stepped on a rock?"

- "...yeah, sliced it right open"

- after julian is done cleaning up the cut, he tells you to just stay off of it for a while and make sure it doesn't get infected

- once he's gone, muriel trudges back into the hut

- "muriel, baby, it was just a cut it's not a big deal"

- but his eyes look hurt, and you beckon him toward the bed

- "hey," your hands on his cheeks, "i'm okay, really"

- "sorry, i just got scared. blood is still a trigger for me and since you got hurt in my woods, i felt like it was my fault"

- "muriel, of course it wasn't your fault"

- he really needed a hug

- after this instance, he made sure to keep medical supplies in the hut and you promised to try and wear shoes in the woods more often than not

- "i'll try my best to be more careful. deal?"

- sweet lil smile

- "deal."

- "oh my god, y/n, what the hell happened??"

- you were tending the garden

- without her supervision

- and the garden sheers might have sliced into the palm of your hand

- deep

- brings you over to the sink and runs water over the cut, covering it with a towel when the dripping blood had been washed away

- girl is on the move

- cause she knows what to do! love that

- low-key a main reason why julian managed to live as long as he has

- pepi is curiously perched atop one of the counters, peering down

- finds her personal first aid kit she had stashed in the bathroom

- guides you over to sit on the counter while she tries to figure out what to do

- "damn, you really cut yourself, y/n"

- "sorry! i think i just got a little carried away"

- she giggles at that, though she is still worried about the fact that it won't stop bleeding

- gently wraps the cut in gauze and adheres it together

- places a kiss to your fingertips

- "all done! no more gardening for you!"

- "hey, why not?"

- "well you don't want that cut to open back up again and again, do you?"

- "no"

- "alright then," she smiled, moving to put away the first aid kit again, "and we're going up to the palace medical wing first thing tomorrow morning to make sure it's not infected"

- eye roll

- "yes ma'am" you mocked

- even though you know it's just because she loves you

- "but since you got hurt, you want me to bake you some cookies?"

- "only if you let me eat the dough!"

- good god do i love this man

- but he is so self-absorbed it's actually insane

- and I feel like he wouldn't even notice at first

- cause he's too focused on himself

- gazing into the mirror without a care in the world when you walked in

- "y/n, thank goodness you're home, how do you feel about these pants?"

- you just hobbled to the nearest seat, hand resting over the gash on your knee

- mercedes and melchior were lazing across a rug at the base of his mirror, their attention set on you

- "u-um, yeah, they look good"

- literally just trying not to bleed out, over here

- "good? oh really, now, y/n don't they look amazing?"

- "yes, they look ama- ow, damnit"

- then he turned around

- immediate shock and worry! oh no oh no y/n is hurt!

- mercedes and melchior walked over first, whining as they took in the cut, brushing around the edges

- lucio raced over, squatting down in front of you, and began examining the cut

- "hey, hey, what happened?"

- "i accidentally tripped on my walk in the garden and scraped my knee on the cobblestone"

- he was lightly touching around the cut, gauging how sensitive it was

- when you flinched he stopped, looking into your eyes with a soft "sorry"

- "i think i need to go to the palace infirmary"

- "oh there's no need, i can take care of you!"

- you were not convinced he could take care of you, at least not well

- "uh, lucio, are you sure?"

- he looked slightly offended, at that

- "you know, y/n, i did fight in battles at one point. i have not only tended to my own wounds, but the wounds of others, as well"

- you giggled at the thought

- "much to your protest, though, i'm sure"

- he moved to the small cabinet of medical supplies in the ensuite to your bedroom, returning to your side with it in hand

- "at points, but i don't mind helping you in the slightest"

- for all of his antics, his soft side was enough to make you fall in love all over again

- and although i know he would take care of you in literally any situation, i can't say for certainty that he would stick around and place nurse lucio for long if a person had hurt you

- attacked you

- much like nadia, the guards would be sent out without a second thought, lucio leading the pack in the search for you aggressor

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda

warning/s: none

author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.

Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.

"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."

I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.

"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.

"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."

After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.

"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.

"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"

"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?

"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."

Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."

"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.

"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that. 

When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.

Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).

She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.

"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."

A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.

Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."

I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.

"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"

She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."

I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.

"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."

Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."

Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."

She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.

"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."

Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.

She was just so damn beautiful.

—

"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.

I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."

We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.

"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."

Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."

I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."

He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"

I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."

He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"

I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.

"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.

My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.

Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?

"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"

Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.

"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"

"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"

As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.

Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.

Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."

But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"

Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."

He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century.

With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.

"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.

How could she be dating such a dick?

—

Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.

"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.

I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.

"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.

I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"

I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.

She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."

I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.

"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."

"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.

"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."

I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.

"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."

Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.

"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."

"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"

As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."

Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"

She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.

"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"

This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe."

She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.

When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.

"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"

I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."

She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.

"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"

"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"

After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.

"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."

The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.

"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"

Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."

He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."

I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"

He laughed. "C'mon."

Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.

"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.

I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.

"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."

He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"

Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."

"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"

"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"

I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."

He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"

"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."

He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."

I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.

"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.

I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.

"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.

He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.

"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.

He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"

"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."

He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"

I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"

"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.

"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.

Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"

I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."

He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."

Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.

"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"

"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"

"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."

"Pietro."

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I grinned.

He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.

"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.

She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.

"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.

"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

"And you're a sore loser!"

We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.

"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.

"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.

I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.

"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.

"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.

Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.

"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.

By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.

"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.

"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"

"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."

I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.

The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.

We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.

"Do you like my brother?"

It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"

"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."

She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?

We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."

"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."

"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."

"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."

"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."

"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."

I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[strawbearisamu]

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k 

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.”

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

[dragon-kazansky]

Familiar stranger | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @realremyd

Female Reader!

The moment is eyes had landed on you, so many things happened at once. He zoned out Sam and Bucky, he took a step away from you, his heart seemed to clench in his chest, and all he could think was 'it can't be.'

Right there in front of him was the spitting image of his wife. Well, maybe not exactly, but you did hold such a resemblance to her. It was like she was right there with him again.

You were looking at him. The others too, but it was you he found hard to look away from.

"Who are you?" He asks, needing to know if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Y/N."

A sigh of relief escaped him. Was he relieved though?

He was obviously making you uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you, so he turned his head away. Yet, your presence felt loud. He would never be able to look at you without seeing her.

It got worse.

In Madripoor you were required to wear a disguise. You were the last to come out in the clothes he had got for you, and once again he was struck by the sight of his wife.

Often they would both dress up and go out for the evening. The outfit he had chosen, though he wasn't sure if this was intentional or not, really made you resemble her all the more.

He couldn't take it.

Zemo avoided all eye contact with you. He focused his attention on the boys, finding it easier that way. Even when he stated your role in this he wouldn't look directly at you.

You wondered if you had done something to offend him, which kind of hurt. You always did your best to get on with anyone you worked with, but obviously that wasn't happening here.

Perhaps it was best to stay out of his way.

Things took a turn: a bounty was placed on your heads because of the death of Selby, all of Madripoor was coming for you, and Sharon popped out of nowhere to rescue you.

Back at her place, you changed into something less flashy. You wanted to tone down the outfit a bit and wear something a little more you.

Zemo couldn't help thinking that you looked much better this way. Though he still saw his wife's face, you looked more like you. You suited you.

Down in the club it was easy to avoid you. Zemo blended into the crowd... kind of, and you stuck to the other side, enjoying your own time here.

You left before all of them.

When the boys left the club and went back upstairs, they found you sleeping on the sofa. You had kicked off your shoes and, obviously, made yourself comfortable.

He couldn't look away.

Zemo sat down near by and looked at you. This was a good chance to look at you without making you uncomfortable.

"How can you look so much like her, yet be so different too?" He whispered the question.

Not really realising what he was doing, he tucks some hair away from your face. You can't possibly be all that comfortable or warm here. Not wanting to overstep any boundaries by carrying you to your room, he gently lifts your head enough to put a cushion under it. He then grabs his coat and drapes it over you gently.

He leaves you to sleep in peace.

You wake up rather slowly. You had been extremely tired when you got back last night. You had enough fun in the club and excused yourself, passing Bucky on the way out.

You sit up. The coat falls from your shoulders and into your lap.

Zemo's coat.

You blink away any tiredness to examine it, running your fingers across the fur. It was soft.

Why did you have his coat?

It dawned on you that he must have out it there himself. No one else would touch it otherwise.

It smells like him.

You look up when you hear someone approaching. It's the man himself. He stops like a deer in headlights when your eyes meet his. Before he can turn around and leave, yoy call out to him.

"Wait!"

He stays standing, looking at you curiously. It still hurts to look at you, but your voice is so much different, it makes him remember who he is looking at.

"Thank you."

He looks at the way you're holding his coat. The way your have a hand resting over the fur collar, clearly finding the feel of it satisfying.

For some reason that pleased him.

"You're welcome."

You smile. It's not her smile. It's your smile. He likes it.

You stand up and hold his coat carefully, taking the utmost care in handling it. You held it out to him when you stopped a little closer to him.

He takes it. His eyes never leave you. This is the longest he has looked at you at any one moment.

You're still smiling.

"I have to ask," you begin, "have I done something to offend you?"

His lips part ever so slightly as be tilts his head a tiny bit.

"Offend me?"

"Yes. This is the most you've looked at me since we met. You don't really talk to me and you seem to avoid me when possible." You gaze down at the floor.

He can hear the disappointment in your voice. He can see the way your hands fidget in front if you.

It seemed to really bother you that he was avoiding you.

"It's nothing you have done."

You look at him with concern.

"Something I've said?" Not that you've spoken to him much.

"No."

"Then, please, tell me how I can fix whatever this is. I would quite like for us to get along while we work together," you were pretty much pleading with him.

He clutches his coat, but you don't seem to notice.

"You remind me of my wife."

The way your head shoots up to look at him tells him he caught your attention. There was no going back now.

"You look so much like her and I can't take it," he whispers. "It is not your fault at all, but I cannot look at the face of someone I loved and failed greatly."

You're at a loss for words.

"But I know you're not her. The way you speak, the way you dress, the way you look when you're sleeping soundly... that's all you."

You stand there quietly.

"If you'll excuse me." He turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Helmut doesn't speak to you at all at the dock. He ignores you further on the plane to Latvia. You find yourself looking at him a lot more, but he doesn't even glance your way.

When you arrive at the safe-house, you immediately seek out a bedroom and try to stay out of everyone's way.

Sam comes to look for you. He can see something has happened and he's concerned it's a problem.

"Y/N? Open up."

You open the door to him.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Between you and Zemo. You're ignoring each other more than usual. If this is going to be a problem, I think we should at least talk about it."

"I think it's best I tap out now. You still need Zemo, right?" You ask, avoiding his eyes.

"Possibly, but not for much longer. Why? What's happened?"

"I think I'm making it difficult for him. He told me, back in Madripoor, that I look a lot like his wife and I think it's hard for him to look at me. I don't want to be the reason the job fails."

Sam wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side.

"That's not going to happen. If you want to stay here, I'm sure that's fine, but just know we could really use your help."

"I think I'll stay here. You can call me if you need me."

"Alright, we're not going anywhere just yet, so you'll have to deal with Zemo being around a little longer."

"I know."

Sam gave you a slight squeeze and left you in peace. Zemo was waiting downstairs when he returned. The Baron was kind of disappointed to find that Sam was alone.

You were avoiding him too. He supposed he deserved that.

"How is she?"

"Fine. She'll probably stay in her room for a while. She's decided to stay back for now, so we'll be dealing with the Flag Smahsers without her," Sam explained.

Zemo didn't mean for that to happen.

There was another knock at your door. You called for them to enter, expecting it to be Bucky coming to see you, but it wasn't.

"Oh, Zemo."

He closed the door behind him and walked over to you, but still maintained a comfortable distance between you.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Thought it would be better if I didn't tag along any more. They need you more than me right now," you speak softly, playing with the corner of your pillow next to you.

You hear Zemo sigh gently. The mattress sinks down next to you as he sits down.

"They need you too."

You shrug.

"I didn't mean for you drop out of the mission. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. I'm glad you did. I feel better knowing the reason why you can't look at me."

"Who's not looking now?"

You look up. His dark gaze is on you. He had been looking at you from the moment he entered the room.

He smiles.

"Won't it be difficult working with me if I'm there? I'm worried I'll jeopardise the whole thing."

He reaches out and he takes your hand.

"No. I did some thinking on the plane. I've spent too much time living in my past already, I won't let you back out of the plan because of my foolishness. I had no idea it would bother you so much that I was avoiding you." He gives your hand a little squeeze.

"I'm surprised too, you know. It kind of bothered me that you wouldn't even talk to me unless absolutely necessary."

"Apologies. I am a fool."

"No, you're not," you chuckle softly.

The smile he gives you sets the butterflies off in your stomach.

"Who is it you see now?" You ask, whispering.

"You. Just you."

You bite your lip shyly and shuffle a little closer.

"Then, I changed my mind. You'll have to put up with me when we go get the bad guys."

Zemo laughs.

"Poor me."

You rest your head against his shoudler. You don't know what it is about him, but there was something there that made you want to know him. If he would let you, you wanted to get closer to him.

Even if his freedom was short lived.

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