#all of them are just like. a minute and a half of duck noises and water rippling while i struggle to hold the camera still

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[wileys-russo]

three little words II a.russo

three little words II a.russo

you smiled down contentedly at the blonde whose head rested in your lap, your fingers raking gently through her hair as you laid together watching a movie, as was your newfound monday night tradition.

you'd met alessia in a coffee shop not far from your apartment a few months ago. the girl so caught up in her own thoughts she'd failed to see you coming through the door as she was on her way out, leading to her coffee no longer being in her hand but rather all over you.

she'd of course almost fainted with humiliation, especially when her first instinct had been to try to blot it out as she rambled out a million and one apologies.

however when she'd quickly realized she was unintentionally fondling a strangers chest as she tried desperately to wipe away the muddy brown coffee stains on your shirt she'd darted backward as if you were charged up with electricity.

that in turn then lead to her losing her footing and tumbling backwards, hurtling to the ground and knocking both her head against the door frame, and one of the servers down to the ground with her.

you'd meant to help her up, really you had. but the entire series of unfortunate events was so sudden and strange that you couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth as alessia looked up horrified and thoroughly embarrassed.

but as its been said, laughter is infectious.

so despite the way her stomach churned uncomfortably and her cheeks burned red with shame she found herself laughing along with you, as if the two of you were old friends and this was a completely normal occurrence.

however coming to your senses and remembering your manners you'd surged forward to offer her a hand up which she'd profusely denied, awkwardly getting to her feet of her own accord and turning to utter another round of apologies to the young girl who'd already helped herself up.

the blonde immediately offered to pay for the coffee you'd arrived to buy as an apology, refusing to take no for an answer but the only catch being she'd begged you both go to literally anywhere else, as she was sure she could never ever step foot in this place again.

with a laugh you'd agreed, and then one coffee turned into two, and then a walk around a park nearby so you could continue talking about everything and nothing. then dinner, and gelato, and with hours having flown by like minutes the striker had eventually insisted on seeing you home safe.

then almost four months later here you were striding around her home like it was your own, making the blonde a tea exactly the way you knew she liked it and curling up together to watch a film alessia had been waiting to for days now.

"babe do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow? i know you have wednesdays off so you could stay over afterwards?" you were pulled out of your thoughts as alessia sat up and paused the movie, stretching as you hummed, only half having heard her.

"dinner. tomorrow, maybe japanese? there's that new place with all the pretty lights inside and the little red bridge we keep saying we'll try." alessia repeated with a soft smile of amusement at your daydreaming. "yeah that sounds nice baby." you agreed as the striker cracked her neck and you winced at the obnoxious popping noise which followed the action.

"i'll call and make a reservation in the morning then." your girlfriend promised, leaning in to press her lips softly to yours. "perfect." you mumbled against them, her hand slipping up the oversized shirt which belonged to her, but you'd claimed as your own.

"your hands are freezing russo!" you whined trying to push them away as they only creeped up higher. "well then let me warm them up." she grinned, ducking and pressing her lips back to yours before you could respond.

you weren't quite sure what it was, maybe just the swelling of emotions you felt as the blonde pulled away and smiled down at you like you hung the moon and stars.

or the shiny bubble of comfortable domesticity around the pair of you as she settled again and rested her head on your shoulder, arm still draped protectively across your midsection as you leaned your body further into hers.

maybe it was the way your senses were overridden with the intoxicating combination of her body wash and the lavender face masks the pair of you had done earlier.

or the way she grabbed your free hand in hers, lacing your fingers together and pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles, but you felt a surge of something wash over you as your girlfriend clicked play on the movie again.

"i love you." you spoke suddenly with a confidence, eyes raking over your girlfriend burning with adoration, alessia's head shooting up off your shoulder and her gaze wide with surprise at the words neither of you had said yet, until now.

"i love you less." you repeated a little softer now, hand letting go of hers and moving to settle on her cheek as you leaned across to sweetly peck her lips, a slight frown creasing your eyebrows at the way she was rigidly frozen in place.

"i-thank you." alessia blurted out awkwardly, and at that response it was like all the air was sucked from the room, and you felt an awful sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, instant regret bubbling up in your throat like bile.

the two of you sat in the uncomfortable silence for a beat too long, staring at one another as alessia looked like a deer caught in headlights and you like you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

"should we keep watching the movie?" "i need to use the toilet."

the differences in the sentences spoke volumes as did the tones of your voices as alessia opened her mouth to say something and you darted off the sofa, legs unable to get you away from her fast enough before the door slammed shut and you could finally breathe.

alessia winced hearing it, knowing her reaction was quite literally the worst one it could have been, but in the moment it was all she could get out, even if that was far from how she actually felt.

you were in the bathroom for long enough your girlfriend knew you weren't actually using it for anything other than probably hiding from her, until finally the toilet flushed and the lock clicked open.

any sort of apology she planned to make was futile as you awkwardly shuffled back into the living room, looking anywhere but directly at the blonde whom a few moments ago you'd been unable to take your eyes off of.

"uh its late, i should go." you grabbed your car keys off the kitchen counter as alessia immediately frowned. "wait but i thought you were staying over?" she questioned confused as you moved to put your shoes on where they sat dormant by the front door.

"my boss called, they need me to cover someone tomorrow so i should probably head home." you lied quietly, which alessia knew given your phone had sat beside her on the sofa the entire time you were in the bathroom.

"oh, okay. well did you want to at least finish the movie?" your girlfriend quickly jumped to her feet with a glimmer of hope as you shook your head. "no its fine, watch without me." you flashed a clearly forced smile and withheld a wince as you accepted your phone she held out to you.

"well do you want me to come stay with you tonight instead then? i can just grab my stuff for training and-" alessia moved as if to go pack a bag as you shook your head and grabbed her hand, stilling her.

"no no, i know you have your routine. i'll uh, i'll talk to you tomorrow." you paused for a second as you let her hand go, fully ready to lean forward and kiss her goodbye as you normally would.

but not feeling that at all you instead settled for a tight lipped smile and turned to leave, alessia left a little shell shocked before you felt her grab your wrist as you opened the front door.

"baby no wait just let me-"

"don't less, please." you shook your head quickly, pain evident in your eyes which had alessias stomach lurching knowing she was quite clearly the cause of it.

"i'll call you tomorrow." you forced out, gently tugging your wrist free from her grip, then faster than alessia could even blink the front door was closed and you were gone.

but she couldn't help but worry that when you did call tomorrow, if you did, it wouldn't be to organise what time she was picking you up for dinner.

~

and sure enough it wasn't a call that came for alessia that next day, it was a simple text.

a text that cancelled your dinner plans all together, an excuse she saw right through that you'd double booked and forgot you had plans already with your parents.

but she didn't feel like she had much room to say anything about it, until a few days of awkward unresolved tension and profound lack of you in her life, and someone else pushed her to it.

"alright alessia. out with it!" the blonde looked up shocked, snapped out of her daydreaming to find leah stood in front of her, hands on hips and prominent scowl on her face as she looked down at her.

"sorry?" the striker questioned, confused where this was coming from and more than ready to go home and sulk after you'd made yet another excuse not to see her tonight.

"you've been moping around here like a sad sack for the last two days less, you're pleasant but you're not your usual bubbly lovely self. so whats happened then?" leah raised an eyebrow in questioning as alessia sighed.

"nothing leah, i'm fine. just tired!" alessia forced a smile as leah scoffed, seeing right thorough it, though before she could call her out on it someone beat her to it. "liar." kyra chimed in, appearing seemingly out of nowhere as alessia shot her a look.

"kyra don't-" "right! you, out with it." leah ordered shifting her glare to the young australian now.

"her girlfriend told her she loved her and less just said thank you and didn't say it back and now her girlfriends avoiding her like a bad smell." kyra let the truth come tumbling out as alessia groaned and leahs eyes widened.

"you've got a girlfriend?" leah near gasped as kyra suddenly paled beneath alessias near murderous glare. "that was private, kyra." the english girl grumbled as the australian mumbled an apology and took off back to her own locker.

"okay less? breathe. how about you come over for dinner? i think we have some catching up to do." "is this just so i'll cook for you?" "no! but if you want it to be edible..."

~

"so. this wonderful girl tells you she loves you, twice, and you say..." leah baited wait a raised eyebrow, empty plates sat on the table in front of them.

"-thank you." alessia admitted as leah visibly cringed, whistling under her breath. "no wonder she's avoiding you. the poor girl probablys died of embarrassment less!" leah warned as the younger blonde groaned. "i know that! she shouldn't be embarrassed though."

"shouldn't she?" leah urged for the girl to continue as alessia dragged her hands tiredly down her face. "i've just-this is all very new for me." the striker started, leah nodding on encouragingly.

"its not that its because shes the first girl i've dated. its just that...well the feelings i have for her are different than what i've felt before." alessia seemed to struggle to explain as leahs eyebrows creased together in mild confusion.

"different how?" "its hard to explain." "well at least give it a try less."

"i just-i've never worried this much about someone i've been seeing before. like when she's not with me i'm always wondering what shes doing and hoping shes okay, when she goes on trips for work i always worry something will happen to her, which is ridiculous because she sells coffee beans!" alessia scoffed with a roll of her eyes as leah hid a small smile with her hand.

"then whenever i'm waiting for her to message me back i check my phone more, because i want to talk to her, i want to hear her every thought and know what shes up to, even if shes just spent the last three days with me and i already know what shes been doing." alessia admitted, throwing her hands up with a huff.

"we try to keep a healthy balance of time with one another and apart, but whenever we don't spend the night together i don't sleep as well because i wish she was with me. we watch movies together on facetime for hours even when she lives five blocks away!" alessia rolled her eyes and leah snickered quietly.

"and i just-i've never cared so much for someone leah. and caring so much means if anything were to happen, it would hurt, a lot, and that terrifies me! it terrifies me how much-" alessia began but the older girl finished her sentence for her.

"-how much you love her." the defender spoke with a knowing smile as alessia gave in with a deeply troubled sigh and a nod of her head.

"but did i tell her any of that? no! i just said 'thank you' like she'd just made me tea not as if she'd just confessed her love for me!" alessia groaned again dropping her head into her hands as leah reached over to rub her back.

"well. then go and tell her how you feel less! before she thinks you don't love her, or that she's made a mistake by telling you she does." leah warned gently as alessia sat up properly and nodded.

she knew what she had to do.

~

"no i won't i'll just have to-" you paused hearing your doorbell go, a quick check of the ring camera your brother had insisted you have installed showing the very topic of your current conversation.

"hey liv? i'll call you back later." you cut your friend off and ignored her questions as to what was happening as you pressed end call, cautiously making your way over to the front door as the bell went again.

unlocking it you pulled the front door half open, mostly because it was freezing and you weren't too keen on letting the hot air out or the cold air in, but maybe a little because you were worried the blonde was here to break up with you for moving too fast.

"alessia? is everything alright? its late." you questioned with a frown of concern as the striker rocked back and forth on her feet, hands shoved deep into the thin grey adidas jacket wrapped around her.

"come on, you're gonna freeze wearing that!" you decided before she could speak, already seeing the hints of red creeping up onto her nose and cheeks as you opened the door wider and waved her inside.

"thank you." your girlfriend exhaled shakily as you closed and re-locked the door behind her. "theres been a lot of those going around." you didn't mean to say it out loud, but when the realisation that you had dawned on you your own face flushed red.

"i didn't mean to-" "no no, i deserved that."

you both shared an awkward smile as you cleared your throat. "do you want a tea? you're still shaking." you noticed the slight tremble in her shoulders and before she could even answer you were off to the kitchen as alessia scrambled to follow you.

"have you eaten?" you asked once you'd flicked the kettle on to boil, alessia nodding quickly as she stood hovering on the edge of the room shifting on the balls of her feet.

"you can sit down." you cracked a small but seemingly sincere smile, nodding to the stools by the bench as alessia did just that. "yeah i was round leahs for dinner." she answered your previous question as you gave her a look.

"isn't that the one you said can't cook?" you quizzed as now alessia cracked a tiny smile. "yeah well, i was round there for dinner but i cooked." she admitted as you both exchanged a shy glance and another small smile, not really having met too many of one anothers friends just yet.

a somewhat tense silence followed as the kettle boiled and you turned your back to the striker while you made the pair of you a tea, alessia caught up rehearsing what she'd come here to say in her head while you did.

"than-cheers." alessia quickly diverted making you hide a smile as you placed down the cup of tea in front of her and she exhaled in relief as her freezing cold palms met the warm ceramic of the mug.

"this is...perfect." alessia managed out after she'd taken a few mouthfuls. "i bought that sugar replacement you like, and i pinched a few tea bags from your place, and its got oat milk." you confessed quietly as alessia just stared at you.

"but you hate oat milk." "well yeah, but you like it."

those words left hanging in the air you began to worry once again you may have overwhelmed or scared off the footballer but before you could even begin to think about apologizing she was up and out of her seat.

then without even a beat of hesitation her lips were pressed against yours, stomach tensing as cold fingertips held either side of your face and just like every single time alessia kissed you, you melted.

"i love you." the blonde pulled away and confessed suddenly, bright blue eyes piercing into yours which were wide with shock at those three little words.

"you don't have to-" you began to backpedal, afraid she'd only said them out of obligation but she was quick to shut you up with another kiss that had your head spinning and your lips tingling.

"i'm not. please, i promise i'm not." alessia shook her head quickly as all you could do was nod, the taller girls hands gently letting go of your cheeks as they shifted to place themselves on your hips instead.

"i love that you know how i take my tea perfectly. i love that you always come over with my favorite snacks. i love that even if i say i'm not hungry you know to order extra because i'll eat yours." alessia started, a soft smile curling into your features at her words.

"i love that our days are so different because it means we don't run out of things to talk about. i love the way your nose twitches whenever you're trying not to laugh, and i love the way you sound when you do." alessia continued, squeezing your hips gently.

"i love that whenever you buy flowers at the markets you take like half an hour choosing which bunch is best. i love that you always fall asleep during movies even when its your turn to pick. i love that you hate cooking but love to clean up because i love cooking and i hate cleaning up!" alessia grinned as you let a small laugh escape.

"i love when you wear my clothes or my kits with my name on the back, i love when we fall asleep on facetime and i still get to wake up with you. i love when you get those little frown lines after pouting about something ridiculous." alessias voice softened as she stepped even more into your space, her face a hairs breadth away from yours.

"i love that you've shown me what it feels like to be loved for exactly who i am, how i am and in a way i never even thought i could have. i love that i want to be the best possible person i can for you and make you feel just as loved and as seen as i do. i love you, all of you, and i'm so so sorry i didn't say it back." alessia practically whispered the last few words, a deep frown of remorse present in her features as you reached up to smooth out her eyebrows gently with your thumbs.

"i'm sorry ive been avoiding you and cancelling plans, i was just worried i came on too strong and i'd scare you off." you admitted, hands resting either side of her face which shook rapidly from side to side.

"never. i promise, i just-all of this, you, the thought of ever losing any of it, scared me and i got overwhelmed and weird and i-" now it was your turn to shut her ramblings up with a kiss, tracing shapes softly against her cheekbones.

"its okay less, really." you promised, the striker visibly sagging with relief and you couldn't help but laugh as her taller form came tumbling into yours, arms wrapped tightly around one another as she pressed her face into your neck.

"thank god." you felt her grumble as you smiled, sneaking a hand up her jumper and rubbing up and down her back as her own hands mirrrored the motion on your sides.

"less?" "mm?" "this is very cute but you're sort of squashing me into the counter top." you admitted with a slight wince as the edge of it rammed into your back further with each passing second.

"sorry!" the blonde leapt away from you with wide eyes as you pushed off and assured her it was fine, a few more pecks and sweet words exchanged before you nodded for her to finish her tea before it went cold, the pair of you migrating to the living room.

"where are you going?" her hand clutched at your top as you didn't join her on the sofa. "to get a blanket, your hands are still like ice russo." you laughed, her grip never loosening.

"no need." the striker shook her head, pulling you down practically on top of her, empty mug sat on the coffee table as she wiggled and wriggled until she seemed to find a comfortable enough position with you laid half on top of her and half between her legs.

"alright then?" you snickered at the manhandling as your girlfriend nodded happily, gesturing for you to grab the remote. "is this your way of asking to stay over?" you teased, leaning forward to grab it and settling yourself against her again.

"maybe." alessia grinned, ducking down to steal a kiss which you were more than happy to give her, flicking on the television and leaning your head on her shoulder, her hands messing about with your hair.

"i love you." alessia spoke once you'd both agreed on a film, one hand moving to tilt your head back to properly look at her, a face filled with adoration staring right back down at you.

"thank you baby." you reached up to gently pat her cheek, turning back to the opening credits as alessia scoffed. "fine, guess i deserved that." the striker mumbled, though as seconds passed you could almost feel her stroppy look burn through the top of your head.

"i love you too." you eventually gave in, alessia sighing dramatically with relief, not clocking you now had your mug of tea in your hands as she jerked her body a little too fast to pepper your face with kisses.

"oh less!" you moaned as the hot liquid sloshed all over you and you sat up, almost headbutting the poor girl whose face flushed red with embarrassment.

getting up to change your top you were stopped as her hand grabbed your wrist and you raised an eyebrow curiously. "well since i'm so cold and you're now all wet..." alessia nodded with a suggestive smile in the direction of the bathroom as you met her with a grin.

"last one there gets the left side of the bed and the extra pillow!" your girlfriend announced, already on her feet and racing off as you gasped and sprinted after her.

"alessia thats not fair thats my side and my pillow!"

[fuctacles]

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"What, you're not going to hug me?" Robin raises an eyebrow at Steve, who's still shifted and waggling his tail in an almost oblivious, dog fashion.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, hands clenching at his biceps where he's crossed his arms. 

"You can hug him yourself, Buckley, it's still Steve. Just lacking some motor skills."

Steve sends him a side eye, to which he only shrugs his shoulders. To him, Steve is Steve, no matter what form he takes. Sue him for getting annoyed when the rest of their friends don't get it. 

Thankfully, Robin is Steve's closest friend—a platonic soulmate, as they say—so she kneels down to squeeze him so hard he whines.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Harrington," she snickers, before releasing him. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, yeah?"

Steve barks an affirmation. 

"And you," Robin points at Eddie. "Take care of my brother while I'm not here, okay?" She points from her eyes to him in an 'I'm watching you' gesture.

"Yes, sir!" Eddie salutes her before, he corrects himself: "Yes, ma'am! No harm will happen to him on my watch." 

She finally grins at him and it feels like he's just got a blessing to take her daughter's hand.��

"I damn fucking hope so, or your death will be painful. See you!" She waves at them both before disappearing in Argyle's van. The car peels off as soon as the doors are closed, since the other two have already said their goodbyes. 

Now, in the dreadful silence, it's just Eddie and the dog next to him. When he turns his head, Steve is already looking up at him with his big brown eyes, and his tail is twitching against the stone pathway. 

"Bath time?"

Steve barks excitedly, and doesn't waste any time before running back inside. 

Eddie follows him slowly, since he has half the legs and all the opposable thumbs to actually lock the door behind them. Besides, he knows where he'll find him—inside his bathroom, looking wistfully at the tub. 

"Do you need help?" he asks, but Steve throws him a determined look, and backs away. Eddie frowns. "Are you sure—?"

Steve is already jumping. 

He makes a lot of noise, but doesn't seem like has taken any damage himself. Only knocked down all of the bottles standing on the lip of the bathtub. 

"Now I have to pick those up, huh?" Eddie sighs as he's looking his nose over for any injuries.

Steve does a dog equivalent of a frown, and then yanks his head out of Eddie's hands, determinedly ducking for the scattered bottles to pick them up between his teeth and put back up. Eddie watches him struggle for a minute, bending his neck left and right and failing to set them upright, before he offers a teamwork solution—Steve hands him the bottles and he puts them in place. 

"Can we just use human shampoo?" he asks, inspecting one of the labels as if the ingredients meant anything to him. Even if they had Chemistry this advanced in Hawkins, a. he would fail it, and b. he wouldn't know if it's safe for dogs anyway.

Steve pushes one of the bottles with his nose, causing it to clatter back down the slope of the bathtub. With a sigh, Eddie puts away what he had in hand and grabs that one. 

"Baby shampoo?" he reads the label. "Why do you have baby shampoo?" 

Since Steve, obviously, can't speak, he's just sitting motionless and staring at Eddie.

"Uh, I'm guessing it's better for dog hair?" Eddie muses. 

Steve gives him a sideways nod of his head, partially confirmation, partially a 'well, I hope it is'.

"Okay, we need to get you wet first, let me just..." he trails off, disappearing briefly in the bedroom only to come back tying up his hair with a bandana. "I hope you don't suddenly find out you hate water."

Steve huffs at him like he's insinuating something ridiculous, and steps closer to the shower head. Eddie snorts.

"Can I take of my shirt too, actually?" he asks as he's rolling up his sleeves. Washing a dog sounds like a messy activity, even if the dog has a human brain inside. Especially, if that human brain is not above getting him wet on purpose.

At that, Steve's ears perk up and he turns to have a better view of Eddie. He raises his dog eyebrow as if asking him what he's waiting for. 

It's absurd to be ogled by a dog, but Eddie suddenly feels the need to cover himself up, despite the t-shirt he's still wearing. 

"On second thought, you're not getting a free nipple show, fuck off."

Steve huffs loudly through his nose, looking genuinely dejected. Eddie flips him off for good measure and hopes to anything that's listening, that he won't blush in front of a fucking dog. 

He turns on the water, testing the temperature on his hand, before aiming the stream at Steve. Wary at first, he quickly relaxes when Eddie starts scratching his fur to get it all thoroughly wet. The shampoo smells similar to baby powder, but not bad overall.

"You're going to smell like a wet dog anyway," Eddie jokes. 

Steve is too blissed out to react, eyes closed as Eddie rubs the shampoo around his ears. He's a big dog, so it takes quite a while to lather him all up. By the time Eddie's done, the front of his shirt is all soaked, as he expected, and Steve's head is resting on the edge of the tub. 

"Hey." Eddie scratches gently between his ears. "Don't fall asleep, it's time to rinse."

This part is less enjoyable for both parties. Getting all the foam out takes forever and Steve almost hits him with his forehead when water gets into his eyes. 

It reminds Eddie of this morning's happenings and he suddenly wishes he had two more dogs to rub clean. As it is, Steve is thoroughly rinsed far too soon and looking wet and miserable in the middle of the bathtub. Eddie immediately brightens up. 

"Aw, look at this sad, wet dog," he coos with a mean smile. Steve stands up. "Wait. Steve, no—!"

He only has enough time to shield his eyes before Steve shakes himself violently, sending water flying all over the bathroom.

"Oh, fuck you," Eddie groans, grabbing the nearest towel to wipe himself off. "See if I help you with drying now."

Steve's face, smug and proud of himself milliseconds ago, falls so quickly it feels like a slapstick comedy sketch.

His threats have no substance behind them, because he's feeling miserable in just his wet shirt, so he can only imagine how bad it must feel when your whole body is covered in wet fur. Not to mention the pleading look Steve is giving him while water drips from his ears. With a deep, pained sigh, Eddie reaches for the fluffiest towel he could find. 

"Come here." He gives in.

Drying a dog proves more difficult than he thought. They soak up two thick towels and Steve is still damp and visibly uncomfortable. 

"Uh, maybe you could air dry?" Eddie thinks out loud, still rubbing the towel around his neck and ears. He's sitting on the floor, Steve between his legs and the wet towels lying pathetically around them. "It's hot outside, so it should be okay." He cocks his head. "I don't think you would get sick, even all wet like this," he adds, though unsure. 

The idea is enough to have Steve up and running to get outside. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Sure, leave me with the mess, why won't you," he mutters, getting up from the floor to grab the soaked towels and clean up the mess they've made.

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot @dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1 @stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible @bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets @ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight  @eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester

steddie masterpost • ko-fi

[neoplatinum]

do not move | nakamura kazuha

summary: when you both each meet other for the first time, you think: strength in numbers, she thinks: deadweight

pairing: kazuha x reader

themes: zombie apocalypse au, blood, death, murder, gore, graphic violence (if you're squeamish, beware!), lone survivor kazuha and lone survivor reader, angst, fluff, [-------] side character

wc: 6.2k

a twig branch snaps, and you immediately duck behind a bush. heavy breathing and exhaustion burning your muscles. just outside of the city, you try and get some cover from the raiders running around the streets; they've been setting everything on fire. even the smell of fire still invading into your nose.

moving down the eerie neighborhood is tough, especially with a limping leg and a heavy backpack. you risked your life for those rations --only to get chased out by those raiders. they chased you like you were prey, and you walked out alive (mostly) with a bullet in the calf and a running trail of blood.

you press your ears into the ground, making yourself as small as possible. praying that it's simply a deer, a hopeless dream. deers have been nearly all hunted. but you hope the burn in your lungs stops soon, and you cling to yourself, willing the pain away long enough that whoever is nearby leaves.

"clear, no sign of life." you hear a low voice shout nearby. the raiders were still looking for you, going as far as to chase you even outside the city. you know what lies ahead if you get caught. so you bite down, shoving your teeth into your bottom teeth, trying to numb the pain of that bullet.

you stay crouched there for another ten minutes before you even decide it's okay to lift your head off the ground, raiders had no morals, their signals could be a trap and you wanted to take the extra precaution.

and then you army crawled away to a fence, thanking the heavens that you ran fast enough to get into the suburbs. the trail of blood is still worrisome. grabbing ripped rags from your bag, you try your best to tie them around the wound just enough to stop the bleeding.

"fuck fuck fuck." you bite into a stick nearby as you wince and tie a final knot. securing your leg. laying yourself up against a wall, and breathing through the pain, wincing every so often until you feel the pain subside to a low numbness.

you haul yourself up to a house, it's oddly pretty, even with it's dilapidated roof and furniture all thrown out the front lawn. you think you would've bought the house before d-day. and with a heavy grunt you drop into a couch. it's been torn apart, but as long as it does it's job you don't care.

the pain is still throbbing and it just looks bad. you cover the windows with fabric lying around and press a wooden board against the door. and with one final breath, you flip your switch blade open and dig straight into your calf, screaming into a spare shirt and digging the bullet from out of your leg. muted screams so hard that you think you might've bursted your own eardrum, and pain so bad that you shake until you drop back onto the couch.

the bullet is out, flung across the floor and blood all over. you feel like passing out, but you spit out your shirt and wrap it around the now open wound, bleeding profusely on the wooden floor. with sweat all over your forehead and pain so severe you feel your body shake until you pass out.

you knock out cold.

--

"up." you wake up to the noise of a woman, her lower face is covered with a bandana and she has a long blade pointed right at your throat. if you moved a centimeter closer, that blade would no doubt pierce your jugular. "i said up!" she shouts at you.

you throw your hands up as you try to get yourself up, it's so painful to even sit up half your body. but you manage to have your back leaning against the couch. she stares at you with sharp eyes, eyes that no longer gleam in the light.

you stay as still as possible, waiting for the woman to do anything really, anything that won't end with you beheaded on this rotting old couch. she stares at you, blade never moving a centimeter. she glances around you, seeing the blood all over the floor, backpack open with supplies all spilled out. the pant leg that you have scrunched over your knee, and most of all the blood soaked shirt tied around your leg.

"bite?" she says, and you can see how in a second, she could decide whether you live or die.

"no. bullet. raiders." she nods and scans around the room, that blade still very much at your throat. she looks back down at your backpack, filled with old dog food.

"split 80/20. i let you live." she demands.

"split 50/50, i give you the better half." you negotiate back.

"i don't think you understand how this works, you give me what I want, i don't slice your neck open." she continues, pointing the tip just enough that it pricks at your skin.

"split 50/50, and i give you medical supplies." you counter. she stops and thinks for a bit.

"you're bold, even with a sword at your neck...fine." she says, and drops her blade, you relax a bit but then she points it right back at you. "show your weapons."

you move to slowly bring out the small revolver and pre-made molotovs tucked in a smaller bag compartment. her blade never leaves your throat. you unload the revolver, two bullets dropping to the ground, before you sit back on the couch, "happy?"

she doesn't comment. you lean forward, letting out a grunt as you pick up the two bullets, reloading it into the revolver, tucking it into your belt.

"ah fuck." you groan as you check on your wound, it's become an ugly purple, brusing all around and sensitive to the touch. you breath heavily and wince at the touch.

"did you sterilize it?" the woman's voice is strong and clear, no sign of hesitation.

"no. passed out." she nods and digs through her own bag, pulling out a molotov. "i'm going to douse it, bite down on something." you nod and grab another shirt from your bag, watching as she pours the liquid over your wound, you scream out like a wounded dog, and nearly fall over.

"needle and stitches?" she asks you. you nod and point into the small compartment of your bag. she pulls out the small sewing kit in your backpack, grabbing old sutures and tying it around the needle.

"bite." she orders. you shove your teeth hard into the shirt, as she begins sewing up the wound, jagged from the switchblade. the pain becomes so unbearable you pass out even sooner.

--

waking up to the sun in your eyes, you find yourself still on that same rotting couch. your body is hot, running like a furnace. you glance around and everythings out on the floor: dried blood, your switchblade, that bullet across the floor and your revolver.

you groan as you sit up, now your leg is sore and heavy, your face is hot and burning up. but the door is ajar, you scan around and half your food is gone, along with the suture kit.

"fuck." the woman's abandoned you. taken what she needed and crept out before you could even say bye. she holds up to her bargain, 8 cans of dog food became 4, and you still have your revolver on you.

"damn her." you start getting your items back in order.

--

the weather's getting colder, and you only have that workman jacket around your shoulder. the wind gets harsher as the days go by, the sight of falling leaves and pine cones littered the ground. you kneel behind a tree, eyes trained on a lone buck.

he stops eating grass to look around, before dropping his neck back down for more grass, and before his next bite, he drops instantly. body falling to the floor with an arrow through his head. a clean and sharp shot.

you drag yourself up, tucking the bow into the side of your backpack, and limping towards your fresh breakfast/lunch/dinner for the next few weeks. smiling at the labor finally paying off, stripping down sticks until they become sharp points to pierce through skin.

as you walk across the meadow to retrieve your prize, you start to hear distant galloping behind you, causing you to duck and turn around; before you know it, you're grabbed by the arm and thrown onto the back of the horse. you immediately grab onto anything you can hold on, that being the waist of the rider.

"woah."

"shut it, we're being chased." the woman kicks the horse into higher gear, and you both speed off into the woods, you turn you back just in time to see a group or horseback riders with lit torches chasing you across the meadow.

you try not to think about the lone buck that should've been yours.

--

you get off the horse and immediately start throwing up on the ground, shaken by the sudden movements and jostling around. the woman pays you no mind though, securing her horse to a branch and staring at you.

"i don't know how you've survived this long." she starts. pulling out carrots to feed her horse, the horse happily munching on his lunch.

you're still puking, but just the insult is getting you riled up. "i survive just fine."

"those raiders would've sacrificed you by now." she says and crosses her arms.

"no, they wouldn't." you counter, and she sighs before untying the horse, and leading it away. you follow behind it. "...but thank you. for saving me. twice."

you try to not let your pride get the better of you, considering this women lent a helping hand in your darkest moments.

she doesn't say anything back and continues walking through the forest. you trail behind her for what must've been thirty minutes before she speaks up.

"it was a trap, that lone buck." she goes on. "no zombies, and a lone buck in an open meadow. you should've known better." she says to you. you're immediately enraged.

"how would i know that?" you are tired of these insults.

"you should have." she just says, and it ends there.

"since you know so much, you should teach me." you say. she laughs at that.

"no, i survive alone." the way she says it is firm.

"listen, everyone could do well with a partner, i could share knowledge that you might not, and you can share the infinite wisdom that you seem to have." you're tired of traveling alone with no one having your back, maybe you can get her to work with you.

"no. i survive alone." she continues.

"oh don't be like that, i gave you four cans of dog food." you try and make a joke, remembering how she left you weeks ago.

"no, i let you keep four cans of dog food and let you live, there's a difference." she counters.

"let's not get into the technicalities, you ever heard of the phrase of strength in numbers?" you smirk, trying to get her to understand reason.

"strength in numbers is foolish if im surviving with deadweight." she says firmly, shaking her head at the idea.

"i am not deadweight! i cook up a mean meal of dog food and peas." you explain.

"yeah no, not happening." she says with finality.

you huff but continue walking with her.

--

"stop following me." it's been about an hour.

"you can't tell me what to do." you sound like a small child throwing a tantrum.

the woman sighs and continues walking with disdain. you're still sticking so close by her. both of you reach a small tucked away cabin. it's been expertly covered in moss and dirt to blend into the background. she walks away from the house a few meters away and ties her horse to a tree.

"woah, sick place." you comment, amazed by the well thought out hideout, it's truly a place you wouldn't have thought twice to really look into.

"thank you." she walks in, and taps her foot on the right side, and suddenly there's another opening, underneath the floor.

"woah, wait, the house isn't even the actual hideout, its underground?" she says nothing, you follow her down the stairs to the basement.

"you are seriously too trusting, walking right after me into a basement. i could've lured you into a trap." she says to you as she begins restocking her items. rows and rows of weapons, rations and even a hydroponics system in the room.

"nah, you wouldn't kill me. you would've done it when you found me on that couch." you say, admiring the amount of work he has put to make this place work. it's quite cozy, small camping lanterns in all different shapes laid around the dark room. the room's also filled with carpets.

"carpets?" you mention, it's odd that there's so many carpets overlapping each other.

"muffles noise. sometimes people walk through upstairs, but i make it so that even if they stay for long, i can move freely down here without them hearing."

she's clearly thought this place through, she has everything that she needs down here to survive. it's wonderful really, then a question pops into your mind. "why do you go outside then?"

"what?"

"why do you leave this place if it's so safe?" you ask. she seems more than equipped to survive here in this base. you glance around, looking at the plants that she's growing, amazed at how they're all turning out so well. so much for saying you could cook up a mean meal of dog food and peas.

she doesn't bother answering. instead pulling together jerky and greens from her hydroponics. handing you some, you decline and open your can of dog food, as much as you would like to eat it, her evasiveness is making you weary.

"so, do i get to know your name?" you ask as you shovel the can into your mouth.

"you can call me z."

"okay, z. that's a cool nickname." you chuckle, "what is it short for? zebra, zack?" you joke to yourself, she shakes her head no and continues eating her jerky.

you don't bother her anymore that night.

--

"morning z! what are we doing today?" you haven't felt so safe sleeping in years, feeling well rested and ready to take on the world with your trusty partner. z's busy cleaning her weapons when you wake up.

"nothing. i let you stay the night, you need to leave." she says calmly, wiping her dirty rag into a bucket of water. you frown at that, confused with her hot and coldness.

"dont be like that! strength in numbers remember?" you say, sitting near her, she groans at that.

"stop saying that."

"why? strength in numbers. strength in numbers. strength in numbers." you joke.

"stop it! you aren't chaewon!" she shouts at you, shoving an arrow near your neck. it's oddly familiar, the aggression from when you first met her is there.

"who's chaewon?" you ask.

z just leaves the room, leaving her half cleaned arrows on the workbench. you hear a door open and close, and now you're contemplating following after her. you choose rather to let her calm down, when she calms down maybe you can apologize.

you sigh and look around, feeling bad for being invasive, but you really didn't know. looking around you explore her place more, seeing a locker filled with clothes, and a giant map on a corkboard. pins all over the states, with detailed notes of specific locations. a lot of them were lookout points for raiders.

tucked under the map is a white square, you pull it off the corkboard, and see a very faded photo of two girls. one that you can recognize as z and another girl smiling with a bob. tagged below the image is kz & cw.

you begin to examine more of the notes, a lot highlighting names and times. it seems that z has been trying to find patterns of when raiders are patrolling.

with a sudden door opening, you grab a knife immediately from your waist as you see z rush back inside, finger to her lips as she grabs you away from the corkboard.

"silent." she whispers directly into your ear. you two crouch on the ground and nod. after waiting a couple minutes you hear it. the sound of footsteps getting closer, rustling leaves outside. z nods and uncovers a small machine under the carpet.

she takes one of the ends of the machine and puts it close to her ear. you stay as still as possible as she starts jotting down notes. she grips her pen harder as time goes on. and you stay still, watching her.

--

you find out much later there were raiders out visiting the house while you dozed off. both of you were sitting against the wall waiting for the people upstairs. z has been formulating a plan the whole time. meanwhile, those raiders treated upstairs like their temporary hideout for a couple hours.

after you wake up, and z gives you the all clear to talk, the first thing she asks is, "how good are you at taking out people?"

"the best." you smirk. it was always your speciality, being able to slip in and out of places before anyone could notice, and by the time they did notice, you already had twisted their necks.

"strength in numbers?" she asks wearily.

"strength in numbers." you confirm.

"then i need your help, i need to rescue someone." she goes on. you nod, and she grabs the map off the corkboard. and unfolds a smaller map, one with the layout of a building. "but i don't know if i can trust you."

you gasp, "how could you say that?" you dramatically ask her.

she rolls her eyes at that, "i need a guarantee from you."

"like what?"

"something to ensure you won't ditch me when things get rough." she says, thinking of things to trade.

you take off your pendant necklace, gently placing it in her hands. "this was from my late mother, i'd rather be chased by runners for the rest of my life than to lose this." you state seriously, she nods at the vulnerability and slips it onto her neck.

then z takes off the bandana that's been covering the lower half of her face the whole time. "this is a gift, from the person we're rescuing. i also would rather be chased by runners for the rest of my life than to lose this." she hands you the black bandana, and you tie is around your face, just like she has.

when you look back up, you're shocked at just how beautiful the woman is, even with her lean muscular build you knew she was pretty, but seeing the rest of her face uncovered, she's drop dead gorgeous. face sculpted from the gods.

"what?"

"nothing." you comment, "fill me in on this plan."

"okay, we go in like this..." z starts laying out the steps.

--

you haven't visited the city since that one grueling day, leaving your leg with a bullet. now that you're back you're shivering in anticipation, this city has definitely left its horrifying memories in your mind. with z by your side, you feel a little safer, though.

the outskirts of the city are deadly quiet, filled with car crashes and littering barrels of trash. walking closer into main street, you start to feel your hair stand up on your skin. it's terrifying, being back when you tried so desperately to leave this horrifying place.

"where's the patrol?"

"we have exactly 5 minute 25 second window before patrol comes back." you hear it loud and clear, 5 minute and 26 seconds, you are dead meat.

she then starts picking up the pace, running between alleyways with her head ducked low, always pausing between corners and big obstructions in between the streets.

with the cold wind, you hear howling through open buildings with their glass windows broken through, the sound of fire crackling in barrels and most of all you hear raiders in the distant, cheering and screaming.

"2 minutes left." she says. you follow behind her, quick on her trail. she soon ducks completely behind a building. digging through her backpack for trap mines.

"listen to me, trap mines: detonate with proximity. we need distractions. raiders are extreme in not letting things getting through their grasp, you know this well enough." she says and hands you trap mines. z gives you the signal and you both split. she heads straight for the back entrance of the building while you go around the side entrance.

raiders are shuffling around, trading posts. you crouch close to the ground and place a trap mine close to the door, waiting for a raider to walk close. you crawl backward into safety, reciting the plan to yourself.

a loud boom blows up at the entrance, and you can hear the horrifying scream of a man being blown to pieces, and other voices running after him.

"we're under attack!" the sound of the raider's feet is closer, all rushing towards the entrance with the trapped mine. in the distance, you hear another mine go off, z's mine based on the direction of the sound.

"another?" a raider shouts. then you hear some footsteps fall away. you sneak around the front of the building, examining the situation, most men have spread to the side and back entrance, disregarding the front.

you slip through the front with the open window, you try and step over the broken glass to minimize sound. and soon you creep towards the stairs. a man stands before you, handgun in hand and peaking around for intruders. you dig a shiv right into his neck before he even gets a clue.

dragging the body away, you put on his jacket and hat, grabbing his gun and checking for bullets, a full magazine. you feel lucky, feeling a knife in the jacket you stole. you tuck that into your shoe. you need all you've got to save whoever chaewon is.

the raiders are now patrolling through the entrances, you find yourself able to slip into different levels of the building until you reach the fifth floor, where supposedly chaewon was supposed to be.

when z filled you in on the situation, you piece together that chaewon is z's older sister. she and z used to survive together, going from groups to traveling alone. never sticking by a group for too long. z had explained that chaewon wanted to leave the raiders after she found out that they sacrificed people that they caught just for fun.

it was horrifying; they joined the raiders in hopes of getting protection by being in a large group, but she couldn't stand by and watch innocent survivors being taken out just for the fun of it.

z wanted to leave too, until they both got caught, the raiders let z get away if they let chaewon get sacrificed. so z's been figuring out a plan to break her free, and it seems tonight was supposed to be chaewon's sacrifical night.

you shivered just hearing it, you knew nothing about chaewon but you knew you would never want her to be sacrificed. you can see it, the line of tortured souls, all being watched by the raiders, it seems that their idea of sacrifice is making them fall from stories high into an enclosed space of zombies, all ready to bite these people to shreds.

you line up close, thinking of a way to get them riled up and away from chaewon. you grab a molotov from your bag, along with a gun. with a careful aim, you toss the molotov on the floor, startling the raiders. they're all trying to examine the disturbance, with quickness, you throw another molotov. setting some raiders on fire. with their screams piercing your ears, you grab your gun and start shooting them. the confusion and commotion of the fifth floor is also startling the tortured survivors, they start running towards the stairs.

you're busy trying to find whoever chaewon is while also shooting the raiders. you hear the signature sound of z's long bow, taking out raiders, some even falling straight into the zombie pit. you can't see her but you know that she's here now.

"chaewon!" you shout, and a shorter girl stops, her eyes go wide. you spot her, the girl that looks so familiar to that polaroid back in z's base. her hair is longer, face bruised up. she's sporting a black eye and she's got a weird limp. you grab her hand and drag her away from the commotion, z continues to aim at the raiders.

by the time you are able to get her out of the building, more raiders are showing up. rushing up the building, you grab chaewon's hand and turn to her. "we run now." you tell her.

she nods and like how the raiders chased you out those weeks ago, you run as fast as you can, pulling chaewon along. with the limp, it's harder for her to run but you know even trailing behind for a second could be instant death.

z's plan was this: she wanted revenge, wanted to kill all those raiders for what they did to chaewon. for making her become their sacrificial pawn, so she told you to take chaewon to a safe place. and then she would let hell rain on those fuckers.

you finally spot the theatre, the rendezvous point where you were supposed to keep chaewon safe. the girl is startled, you're wearing her sister's bandana, but you aren't z. and when you finally are able to lock the door, chaewon collapses on the floor, breathing so heavy, and loud. you calm yourself down too, leaning against the door sinking to ground.

"you aren't zuha." she says between breaths.

"who's zuha?" you ask, confused by what she means.

she points at your bandana. "that is kazuha's bandana, i gave it to her." she says, confused written on her face.

"oh. z?" you ask. chaewon is confused but nods. "z is probably a codename she gave me then."

"you met her then!" chaewon sits up and moves closer to you, tears sprouting in her eyes. "is she alive?"

"yes." you reply back, chaewon probably has no idea if kazuha is alive or not. that must be terrifying, letting your sister have freedom, not even knowing if she actually survived outside.

"she uh, made this plan, for us to rescue you." you explain, going into depth about how you two met. also how she is letting you help save chaewon.

"kazuha's a hard person to convince, you must've gotten under her skin." chaewon responds, listening intently about the whereabouts of her sister.

you agree, fishing out food and water for chaewon. she must be starving, you think. chaewon nearly cries at the sight, downing water like she was in a scorching desert. you let her have at it while checking your timer. kazuha told you that if she doesn't return in thirty minutes, that you should take chaewon to the base, and that she probably has died.

you're not going to let that happen; forget that stupid plan to get revenge alone. you're going to go back for her. with a stretch, and drinking your own water bottle, you get ready to set back out. chaewon looks at you in bewilderment.

"where are you going?" she asks while biting on jerky.

"back, i'm not letting her fight those raiders alone." you say, checking your handgun for bullets. chaewon looks at you and nods.

"strength in numbers." she says to herself.

"yeah, strength in numbers." you smile, hearing the familiar phrase. you hand chaewon a handgun and some molotovs. "three knocks, that'll be the signal that we're coming to the theatre, any other knock, that's not us." chaewon nods and checks her gun.

"good luck back there, please bring my baby sister back safely. i'm counting on you." even though this is the first conversation you've had with chaewon, you feel inclined to listen to her words.

"swear on my soul." and with that you exit the theatre.

--

with blood on your face, and the jacket that you stole, you rush into the building. most of the raiders are circling around the ground floor, grabbing an auto rifle, you open fire like you never have before, using the cars around as coverage. with a rage you never felt before you go batshit crazy, slicing down raiders left and right. you don't even feel anything anymore, just with the goal of finding kazuha.

the raiders are all falling by your hands. you rapidly fire at whoever dares to separate you and kazuha. you pick up guns that's been left by now dead raiders. you can hear a distant scream of a woman's voice, sounding like kazuha's voice. your blood runs cold, you rush upstairs, taking out the raider's best you can. at some point you get tired of waiting and just grenade them.

the quicker you can reach her, the quicker you can save her. you rush up to the fifth floor where all the commotion went down. you hear the sounds of raiders all shouting. and with a quick glance, you can see them cornering kazuha.

"you never should've come back kazuha, chaewon let you free, by being a sacrifice to them." the man talks as he points below. he smirks, "you want to trade places with your sister? fine by me."

the man and the rest of the raiders start walking kazuha to the edge. you rush behind two raiders. shiving them each and approaching the rest of the raiders. grabbing a metal sheet you use it as coverage as you rush the rest of them. letting out all your strength, you push the rest of the raiders off the edge, falling to their demise. the man that was speaking to kazuha dodges the attack. you find yourself nearly falling off the edge, but kazuha grabs you in time to pull you back.

so now you two face him, kazuha's gotten pretty beaten up, her arm's messed up and her feet's dragging. so you put yourself in front of her.

"let me handle it." you tell her. she's too tired to protest, after just nearly falling to her demise. you keep her behind you pressed against the wall as you approach the man with a switchblade, he's smirking like he has the upperhand. until you smash a bottle over his head and run at him to tackle him down.

he's pushed his knife back against your blade, and you're fighting with every ounce of strength in your body. pushing the blade closer and closer towards him. he makes a quick movement to toss you off over him. you roll over and he jumps to shove the knife at you, to which you dodge. pushing with all your might to push him off you. you launch yourself forward, stabbing the blade into his neck, blood gushing out all over you. he screams and gasps at the impaling. he makes a final attack against you, slicing your face. you let out a scream but don't let go of the knife in his neck.

soon he falls over to the side, his body going limp when kazuha shoots him in the head. a loud ringing noise running through your ears, you latch onto your face. the gash long and running deep over your face.

kazuha's quick to rush to your side, trying to hold your face with her one good arm. she rips off fabric from her shirt to wrap around your face, as you cry out loud. sobbing at the excruciating pain. the man is dead, and you're thankful you saved kazuha.

--

you gave yourself twenty minutes before getting up. kazuha's been trying to set her arm by herself. you lightly tap her and hold onto the loose arm. you hand her your loose switchblade for her to bite it as you set it back into her socket. she screams into the metal blade. and you're quick to make a makeshift sling for her arm. working with one good eye and pain searing through your body.

she cries at the sight of your face and the blood staining her shirt. this battle wasn't an easy one, but you're grateful that both you and kazuha survived. she keeps crying even as you tell her it's okay. you wrap her good arm around your shoulder as you both slowly make your way out of the building.

after a good while of sobbing to herself, she turns to look at you again. "chaewon?"

"she's safe, put her in the theatre like we talked about." you try as move your face as little as possible. kazuha nods. her limping as she puts her body weight on you like a crutch. even though you're so deep in pain, and the adrenaline is finally wearing off, you're glad you went back for her. you know you would never be able to live with the guilt that she died.

the rest of the walk is silent other than wincing here and there and ragged breaths.

you tap three quick knocks at the theatre door, and you hear the sound of a board being moved behind the theatre. when it opens you see chaewon pointing a gun straight at you. as soon as she recognizes you, she puts it down, ushering you two inside.

"chaewon!" kazuha throws herself at her sister, crying into her. letting out relieved tears at the sight of her sister after so long. chaewon's trying to examine kazuha's injuries, but the girl won't even separate herself.

the two girls hug each other for a long while, just crying into each other. you board up the entrance to the theatre. feeling the exhaustion hit your body completely as you sit down by a chair. as much as it hurts, you smile at the two girls.

finally, you knock out cold.

--

you awake to the two girls speaking to each other in hushed tones. it seems that they're talking about the raiders, how chaewon was kept captive until tonight for her sacrificial night. chaewon cries as she thinks about how she hasn't seen sunlight in weeks, being fed slop and kazuha cries but listens intently.

you try and move yourself up, sitting in the chair. chaewon looks at you, and smiles.

"hi, glad you're awake." chaewon says to you. kazuha also turns to look at you, sobbing when she thinks about the deep gash on your face. you smile back at the two, still feeling the pain of the attack.

"i stitched your face while you were asleep." chaewon says, and she stands up to remove the shirt covering your face. trading it for a clean and new cloth. "he slashed over your eye, i think you won't be able to see out of your left eye anymore." chaewon comments quietly. she gently wraps the new cloth around your face. you nod, the truth of the matter settling in.

"i'm sorry!" kazuha cries out, the guilt of being the reason you lost your eye is hitting her hard. you shake your head no, you would never blame kazuha for what he did. "it's not your fault kazuha, i wouldn't blame you. i had to save you. no matter what."

kazuha cries harder, and you walk yourself over to hug her. calming her down and telling her everything is okay. as long as you still had each other you don't care how many limbs you lose.

you three get ready to finally be away from this cursed city.

"thank you for coming back for me."

"strength in numbers kazuha, i wouldn't ever think of leaving you behind."

--

it's been a couple months since saving chaewon; you've gotten closer to the two sisters. you find that behind the coldness, kazuha is actually a lovely woman. a woman hardened by the loss of her sister by her side. every day, you spend time with the two girls happily. and now you wear an eyepatch, claiming that it makes you look cooler. kazuha rolled her eyes when you made that comment.

meeting kazuha changed the trajectory of your life forever, you're happy to find a semblance of a family with these two girls. especially when kazuha makes your heart race as you get to know her.

sometimes when chaewon isn't looking you sneak a kiss for kazuha, the woman always goes rigid like a plank whenever you do this. you giggle everytime, while chaewon is always confused what happened.

kazuha also had a hard time with expressing affection, so she would always say that you should ride with her on her horse. you know it's because she likes keeping you against her at all times.

sometimes you think chaewon knows what is going on between you two (she most definitely does) but just plays dumbs. like she's waiting for you two to come clean. you don't give her that satisfaction until much later when chaewon catches you kissing kazuha before she sets off for a supply run.

chaewon simply smiles when you see you've been caught. and you smile because it feels like you have gained a family through meeting kazuha.

--

a/n: ive been wanting to write a tlou (the last of us) piece for sooo long. i am not a med student, so if there's any medical inaccuracies...let's just move past that. i made this piece less zombie centric, and more plot driven. anyways, stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[midnight-mourning]

Polar Frights

ignore this is a few minutes late, ignore this is a few minutes late-

agh, anywho, had a lot of fun with this, i saw the prompt and kknew immeditately what i wanted to write. It also tied in with something i've been wanting to do for ages, so it all worked out!

So, here's a little something for @wyervan's Yuletide au! I fell in love with them and their designs the moment I saw them and have been itching to write something for ages now (hi it's me the 'not santa' anon from a literal month ago lol). Hope you all enjoy, and if you see this wyervan, hope i did your boys justice ^^

Word Count: 1474

Words used: frigid, polar, caverns, frostbitten from @divinit3a's cafe prompts

Frigid. 

That would best describe the weather currently, as you traverse through the snow. The wind whips around you, cutting against the exposed skin of your face. Your eyes sting with tears, but you keep pushing forward, footfalls heavy as you move across the landscape. 

You'd rather be anywhere but here right now, the howling of the wind reminding you of that as you move. But, you weren't going to stop now. You'd come too far to turn back now, you weren't going to let it be in vein. 

You know what you saw, you were sure of it. Even if everyone else would call you crazy if you tried to explain, you know what you witnessed last night. 

You'd been worried about her, the blacksmith's daughter, Opal. You'd seen less and less of her since her father had caught on to you slipping her meals, playing games, and so on. You'd been so careful, but it hadn't been enough obviously. 

When you realized it had been days since you'd laid eyes on her it was late while lying in bed. It'd been haunting you, and so you decided the only course of action was to simply go and check. Sure you didn't know how, but you argued that you'd figured it out during your half-awake stumbling to their home. 

So when you turn the corner and happen to peer up onto the roof, spot a pair a of glowing red eyes upon a hulking form, well, you weren't prepared for that, to say the least. The beast doesn't notice you, not at first. Instead, it's focus is on a certain bedroom window, one you knew belonged to Opal, and the hair on your skin stands up. 

You want to say something, do anything as it takes a clawed hand and creaks open the window. But with it's large, curled horns and cloven hooves, you very much fear you're seeing the devil himself. Your frozen in your fear, unable to act as the monster ducks inside momentarily and back out with the sleeping girl in his arms. 

Your body finally responds then, in the worst way. You let out a small gasp, barely a whisper, but you still slap your hand over your mouth. 

Somehow, it heard, whipping to look in your direction. You once again stand motionless, eyes locked on that piercing crimson gaze. It makes a noise, a mix between a huff and a growl, eyes narrowing to small slits. Then, Opal stirs, and you both shift your focus to her.

She settles again, and with a final look to the, the beast is gone. It was so quick you're still not certain if it leaped off into the darkness, or just vanished into thin air. 

Regardless, you know what happened was real, at least in some part, as the blacksmith casually mentioned his daughter as 'under the weather' the very next morning. A quick search of his home by the other villagers however proved otherwise. And as soon as you heard the news, you knew what you had to do. 

You remember the stories you'd heard as a child. Children who misbehaved were punished for their wrongdoings, snatched up by the likes of a demon as penance. But you knew with all your heart that Opal was nothing of the sorts. 

A mistake, it had to be. One you had to make right. Or else.

You only had a vague idea of where you were going, there wasn't much out in this polar wasteland besides the trees and snow, but you knew the legend. If you traveled far enough, to the point your feet ached and your body was near ridden with frostbite, until you were at your absolute limit and felt the strongest desire to turn back, there would be something. What? You weren't certain. You don't think anyone was. 

As you come across another open clearing, more nothingness in your sight, your heart begins to sink a bit. With the current state you’re in, you need to find shelter soon. Despite your layers and extra precautions, you were starting to feel the chill sink in, more than usual that is. 

Just as you stop to plan what to do next, there's a sound above you of... something shouting?

You dare to glance up. 

Standing out against the stark white sky is a sleigh of bronze. Even from down here you can take note of all the intricacies of the metalwork, but you can't even focus on that when you realize attached to the sleigh are nine massive reindeer. They too gleam like the bronze, but with the steam emitting from the, along with how they effortlessly glide through the sky, it seems impossible to consider them as machine. Their movements far too alive. 

If that wasn't enough, another shout interrupts your baffled thoughts. As the sleigh passes overhead, you finally take note of its driver. Humanoid, but much like the rest of the company, he's also a machine of some sort. An automaton, you realize. Spikes encircled his head, giving the impression of a sun. His red fur coat seems unnecessary to you, but you're far past the point of questioning something so, simple, at this point. 

You rush out into the field to get a better view as it disappears off into the distance, only to realize that after a certain point, the sleigh stops getting further away. It's turning around, coming back. 

And seemingly, is heading straight for you. 

You panic, suddenly gaining a burst of energy to keep moving. You don't know what that thing wants with you, but you're not sticking around long enough to find out. 

As you cross the field you hear more yelling from behind you, he's trying to speak to you, you realize. But with the wind and your own fear blocking out your senses, you can't even begin to comprehend what he might be saying. 

As you make it to the opposite side, you see the mouth of a massive cave and not having many other options, decide to head straight for it. 

Once you make it inside, you keep going, your feet moving of their own volition as you travel further and further into the dark. It's cold, but not as cold as outside. You only stop moving when you physically collapse to the ground, exhausted. 

Taking deep breaths, you feel around in the darkness for the cave wall, crawling over and laying back against it as you try and catch your breath. 

Despite the sprint you just completed, the cold starts to seep in again immediately. You shiver, teeth chattering as you huddle your arms against yourself. You have no way to make a fire, it occurs to you. You'd been in such a rush that besides bundling up and packing a small amount of food, you'd forgotten to gather the supplies for it. 

Interestingly, either because of hypothermia overtaking your now—likely—frostbitten body, or of an unexplainable natural phenomenon, the ground below you is startingly warm. You can't make hide nor hair of it. 

You seep it up as much as you can, having nothing else to keep you warm at the moment. The cavern around you is near silent, you can just make out the wind blowing outside. 

So when you hear the clack, clack, clack, of steps against the ground, you tense. 

You can't see a thing, only able to curl in on yourself and pray it's someone friendly. Though given where you are, you doubt that. 

The steps end just in front of you, a huff of hot air blows down on you after a moment, followed by a low chuckle. 

You whimper, not daring to look up. 

A low voice echoes all around you. "Persistent, aren't you?"

Something compels you to speak up, despite your terror. 

"Have, have to be. Need to, to find her, make sure she's okay." Your teeth clack as you tilt your head up, meeting the gaze you were almost expecting. "Wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't."

Despite the darkness, you can pick up on the surprise in the beast's eyes. Then, you hear a slight jingling noise as he nods once. He extends a clawed hand down to you. 

"Come along then, it'll do her no good to see you freeze."

You stare at the offering, uncertain. 

A snort. "We don't have all day, kid. It's only a matter of time before you get frostbite. And I'd rather not hear him complain about that."

"O-okay." You take his hand, feeling the warmth even through your glove. 

He pulls you into a stand, and starts to walk deeper into the cavern. You don't know where you're going, but you suppose you don't have much a choice. 

You just hope you’ll end up somewhere warm. 

Should have definitely started this sooner but alas, got busy. BUT, at least i finished it, and i like how it turned out :) Excited to keep these up for the end of the month, but for now, thanks for reading!

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[f0point5]

I had the time of my life, with you

Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

✨Set in Abu Dhabi 2021, right before the race✨

A/N: So it turns out setting myself deadlines actually works lol. I still have a love/hate relationship with these pieces. But, I have a special place in my heart for this one because I had the title in my head since like the second week of the smau and I didn’t use it for any other chapter because of that. And also it’s an Easter egg because in the AD bonus part Y/N uses it as a caption for her Instagram post as an Easter egg for Max ;) we love a mastermind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ramble.

You thought you knew tension. You thought, growing up like you did, you were more than familiar. The eerie silence, the glazed expressions as your mind tries to protect you from close the chaos is, the pit in your stomach, that heaviness of breath, that feeling of cold that goes down to your bones no matter the weather.

Fucking hell, were you wrong.

You’ve never known tension like this.

The garage is thrumming with energy. Everyone is going about their business quicker, deeper, quieter, than it seems like they ever have. The grandstands are filling up, music blasting over the speakers. There’s a palpable electricity in the air. You’ve been shivering all day, unable to get warm enough even in a jacket in the desert heat.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you wind through along the narrow corridors behind the garage to the small room that Max has been hiding in. For the first time in a while, you knock instead of going straight it.

You’ve barely seen him all day, he’s been pulled this way and that for a hundred interviews and briefings, ducking the Netflix crews who’ve never been so sycophantic. They made him a villain, and now they lurk like there’s blood in the water in case he becomes the hero. Selfishly, you’ve missed him, and when you’d said as much to Christian, he’d just nodded to the back of the garage.

“He’s taking a couple of minutes to himself,” Christian had said, fixing his gaze on you. “But you should go and see him,”

So you had. And as you heard a gentle “Come in,” over the noise of drills and loud dance music and stepped inside, you realised why.

This was tension, you thought as your eyes fell on Max. He was on the small couch, hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together almost as if he were praying. It’s like you can see every muscle in his body pulled taut under his fireproofs. He doesn’t even raise his head when you come in, but you suppose he glances at your shoes to know it’s you.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it. You’re not sure why, but it feels like you’ll bother him less from over here.

“Hey, champ,” you say, mustering a smile in case he looks at you. He doesn’t, at first. His eyes stay on the ground, and then, painfully slowly, his head lifts.

His eyes are still your favourite colour, his hair is still a bit too long, he’s still unshaven because he couldn’t be bothered even though he might be looking at pictures of this night for the rest of his life. He’s still Max.

“It’s a bit early for that,” he says, his half smile as delicate as yours. Yeah, still Max.

“Respectfully, I disagree,” you tell him crossing your arms over your chest as he looks up at you. “Since I can remember you’ve wanted to be a champion, and since I can remember, I knew you would be. That nickname is twenty years in the making,”

His eyes drop to his hands again and your heart drops with them. You’re trying so hard to say the right thing, but it was arrogant to think you ever had a chance. What experience in your frivolous existence would help you know what to say at a time like this. You wonder if you should just leave him to it as you fold your bottom lip between your teeth to chew at it as another shiver wracks your body.

“Twenty years,” Max says quietly, making you look over at him again. “It’s a long time,”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, nodding even though he’s not looking at you. You edge closer to him, and when he doesn’t react, you take a seat beside him. Not as close as every cell in your body tells you you need to be, but as close as you feel like he’d want right now.

“You don’t understand,” he says with a sigh.

You don’t respond, because you know you don’t. You’ve never committed to anything, loved anything, lived for anything, like this. This dream of his has outlived marriages, outlasted memories, predated a friendship that feels like it has been going on forever. It’s the only thing Max has ever wanted. You’ll never be able to understand, because no matter how much you love him, he loved racing first.

“Tell me what to say, Max,” you almost beg as you reach towards him. You can’t even hold his hand, so you just place yours on his wrist, fingertips resting against his skin at the edge of his sleeve.

You glance over at him, naively hoping he will look over at you and tell you what he needs from you. Because you’d do anything.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice the brings a lump to your throat.

You shake your head. “Don’t be. I know I don’t understand. No one can. Not me, not Christian, not Stan, not even your dad. You’ve outclassed your whole support system here,” you say this last part with a laugh, but it’s true. He’s alone now more than ever, he’ll stand on that top step alone, too. “We’re all so proud of you, you know,”

“I know,” he mutters, and it kind of breaks you how dismissive he is, even if you know why.

“Do you?” You ask him, leaning a little closer to him, but he doesn’t react.

He just continues staring at his hands as he untangles them, his left fingers curling backwards until they brush over your hand on his wrist, and you hastily slot your fingers into his as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Yeah.” He says, sounding more resolute this time.

“And you know that we’ll be proud of you, even if-“ you can’t even bring yourself to say it. “We’ll be proud of you regardless.”

“I know,” he says, “but it’s not enough,”

Despite yourself, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Max, I know that it’s not a trophy, but-“

“No,” he says, squeezing your hand to silence you. “It’s not that. I mean that it’s not enough, to come second.”

You grip his hand tighter as he lets out a laboured breath, his head lifting so he can stare straight ahead where the Dutch flag is pinned to the wall.

“We didn’t do all this to come second.” His voice is low and reverent. “My mum, Vic, I took so much from them. My dad gave up his whole life for this. You put your life on hold for this. It can’t all be for nothing,”

He’s never really said it, but you know what he means - this win is owed. He owes his mother a marriage, his sister a father, and his father a career. And none of that is in his gift, but if he can weigh a championship against all that sacrifice, then maybe he will be forgiven. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he’ll race with a clean slate. Without wondering whether he was worth the life he cost those around him, and the life he cost himself. And you want that for him. God, you want that more than anything.

You reach for him before you can stop yourself. Space be damned. You cup his cheek in your free hand and force him to look at you.

“Max, It won’t be for nothing.” You promise him, your nails pressing gently into his skin as if you’re trying to hold onto him. Like he might float away. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you. Even if you don’t win today, even if you never do, even if you shunt on the first lap. I had the time of my life with you this year. Being there for you will never have been for nothing,”

He wants to believe you, you can see it. But even if he believes that you all think that, he doesn’t think that. How do you tell him it’s worth it, when you both know there’s only one way for him to prove it?

“Do you want me to drive?”

Your question catches him off guard so much as that he snorts his laughter. You feel the air against your face as he falls back against the couch.

“I’m serious,” you say, grinning as you watch him. “I’ll put on the suit and the helmet and do the race for you, like Mulan. I did the track walk, I know where I’m going. Vaguely, anyway ,”

You’re making a meal of this mediocre joke, but you’ll do anything you can to keep him as carefree as he looks right now. With his head thrown back and the colour returning to his cheeks as his shoulders shake.

“Engel,” he says, his head lolling in your direction, “You really think you have a better chance of winning than me?”

You reach over to move a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, and his eyes follow your fingers.

“No, I don’t,” you say, letting your hand slide through his hair to rest on his jaw. “Because you, Max Emilian Verstappen, know how to win races better than anyone.”

Your thumb brushed across his stubbled cheek and he leans into it instinctively, just like the cats. The smile you give him feels more like one you remember, and the ones he returns reaches his bright eyes.

“Alright,” he says with a shrug.

He gets to his feet in one smooth movement, pulling you with him towards the door by your entwined hands that you’d quite forgotten about. He must have, too, because when he notices he squeezes your hand to get you to look up at him. When you do, your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.

“I better go and win, then,” he says lightly, pulling the door open.

No one will you believe you, but you know then that you’ll be looking up at him on that podium tonight, when he’ll be a world champion.

“You will.”

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi i @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @annoyingcloudearthquake and @thisbuildinghasfeelings!

From Somewhere in a Song, chapter 9 posting tomorrow

Carlos blinks at him with his lips slightly parted, eyes flitting down to TK’s bare chest. Something electric and neon crackles between them for half a second, and then he surges forward and reaches for TK. Their mouths crash together, a loud noise of surprise punched from TK’s gut as suddenly hands are holding his face and lips are sliding against his with so much force he’s knocked a few steps backwards.

They rotate, TK too shell-shocked to do much other than let his mouth be plundered by Carlos’s probing tongue. Sense snaps back to him like a rubber band when TK connects solidly with the door and the back of his head thumps lightly into the wood. It hurts a little and something ferocious roars to life inside him, he kisses Carlos back with abandon.

Carlos hums, high pitched and resonant and the sound shoots right to TK’s groin. The world seems to turn too fast and too slow all at once, TK’s entire being narrowed down to the feeling of his tongue sliding against Carlos’s and their noses brushing and the way Carlos smells filling up his lungs. He hasn’t been kissed like this in such a long time, and the muscle memory of it comes back to life as he rubs against Carlos’s body and soaks in the feeling of being surrounded in his arms.

They kiss until TK’s lips are numb, until he can’t remember what it feels like to be doing anything else, until he’s sure the skin around his mouth is going to be red and chapped in the morning and he won’t have a good explanation for it if anyone asks.

His bandmates, and Carlos’s bandmates, who they will both have to see less than eight hours from now. The thought feels traitorous, TK wants to shove it away and keep sucking on Carlos’s tongue, but he can’t seem to ignore it. In another life, TK would have surged ahead despite anything and everything and left any consequences for his future self to deal with. Maybe rehab matured him, TK thinks bitterly, as he breaks the kiss.

“Mm, wait,” TK pants, holding Carlos’s face in his hands and nudging him backwards when Carlos just ducks down and starts kissing his neck. He laughs, and repeats, “Wait, hold on.”

Carlos looks at him, momentary worry shining in his dark eyes. “You don’t …?”

“No, I …” TK shakes his head, feeling nearly hysterical at how ludicrous the notion is that he doesn’t want this. He wants it so much his vision is blurring and his pulse is pounding.

He bites his lip, looking down at Carlos’s mouth before pressing them back together, softer this time. He backs them up, pushing his hips forward once the wall is sturdy behind Carlos. Half an erection shifts in his sweats and he feels Carlos, too, hot and thick against his thigh. It makes TK’s stomach twist. It makes him hungry for Carlos’s skin, aching to strip him naked and taste every delicious inch of him.

Carlos swears softly under his breath, their foreheads touching and his hands curling, like they had the last time, around TK’s waist. Only this time TK is shirtless and Carlos’s hands are so warm against his bare skin.

“I want it,” TK whispers. Regretfully, he continues, “But you didn’t, before.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos whispers back. “I panicked. You surprised me.”

TK winces. Voicing a previous thought, he asks, “That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?”

“My – no,” Carlos chuckles, fingers pressing into TK’s sides. It’s small and maybe accidental, but TK swears Carlos’s thigh is moving, rubbing minutely against him. “No, sadly they won’t be able to put on my tombstone that rock star TK Strand was my first kiss.”

TK doesn’t think it sounds like much of a claim-to-fame, but he doesn’t say so. He strokes his thumb along Carlos’s cheek, skin catching on his facial hair. He wonders how flushed his own skin already is from the scrape of stubble. “So what changed?”

Carlos swallows – TK hears it click in his throat. TK’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he’s surprised when Carlos asks, “Does it matter?”

His thigh deliberately pushes forward, no mistaking it for incidental this time, and TK’s eyes flutter closed at the pressure on his cock.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Carlos murmurs to him, sliding their lips together again and making TK’s head swim. “When you wear a leather jacket with nothing underneath I don’t know what to do with myself.”

TK parts his lips, sucking Carlos’s tongue into his mouth as he rolls his hips, riding Carlos’s thigh against the wall while the room spins around him. And fuck it, he decides.

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday @rangersoup

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[celestialglow24]

•••Promise Me•••

Frank Castle x AFAB reader

You finally see Frank again after months of being apart with no explanation.

hi friends. more Frank angst because this man has taken over my mind lately and i think you all should suffer with me. please enjoy xx

The walk back home from the restaurant wasn’t too bad of a trek. You had convinced yourself it’d be alot faster than waiting around for an uber, or bothering your cousin at 12 am to come down there and pick you up.

Was it wise? Probably not. But the multiple shots of liquid courage—fueled with the desire to take a long hot shower—gave you a sense of confidence no one would have been able to shake.

So you said your goodbyes to the group you were with, telling them a little white lie that your ride was here, and began walking home.

As the loud street music and bustling noise of downtown nightlife started to fade, that confidence began to wane.

It was really quiet out here, and no one was around from what you could tell. You could see the sign for a park a little ways ahead and that managed to level your nerves.

Your cousin’s apartment wasn’t too far from there and if you kept at the pace you were moving, you could get there in 10 minutes or so.

God you hated wearing heels. You’d yet to find a pair that didn’t make you want to cut off your feet and curse the ground after only a couple of hours of use.

There was a part of you that was half tempted to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot, but after already passing several broken bottles along the street, you decided you didn’t want to chance a night in the ER.

All things considered you were proud of yourself for going out tonight. It had been months since you’d done anything besides: work, sleep, eat, repeat.

Save for a few weekends now and then of binge watching a true crime doc with your cousin Lucy or a trip to the dog park with her dog Penny, you hardly allowed yourself any time to relax.

Anything to avoid your mind having the opportunity to think of him. To think of your past.

So when your coworker invited you out with people from your department to celebrate their recent promotion, you decided to let yourself enjoy a night out. You felt you had earned it.

You hadn’t been working for the company very long, but you got along with everyone pretty well. It was nice of them to include you.

It was certainly more fun than you expected to have but after your brain had tried multiple times to convince you that you’d seen someone that wasn’t there—someone who you hadn’t seen in months—you knew it was time to go.

6 months.

6 months and you still searched for him in a room full of people.

It was pathetic.

Even now, as you walked the nearly empty streets you felt him. You didn’t know how— and despite logic and reason battling with these inexplicable feelings— it still felt like you could sense his presence.

Yeah, this had to be the alcohol talking.

You tightened your trenchcoat around your torso in an effort to self soothe and offered a half smile to the few people you walked by on your way toward the park.

As you rounded the sidewalk, you pulled your phone out to text your cousin that you’d be home any minute. She was probably already sleeping but you wanted to give her the heads up anyway.

Anything to avoid her attacking you with a broom like she did the one time you got home late from work.

Just as you went to tuck your phone back in your coat pocket it slipped out of your hand, landing on the ground face down with a loud crack.

“Fuck” you cried, bending down to asses the damage. Thankfully you had a screen protector, so the actual screen was fine. But man you had done a number on it. The uneven cracks that splintered the screen made it difficult to read the time and notifications.

As you rose from your squatting position, you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye ducking behind a car across the street.

You felt your stomach drop.

Slowly… you stood up taller, squaring your shoulders and trying to steady your breathing. You calmly reached for the front clasp of your clutch, thanking any god or the universe that you managed to stow your taser earlier that night.

You chose not to make any sudden movements. Instead you waited. You waited for so long you were starting to question if you had seen anything at all. Maybe you misunderstood and it was the alcohol messing with your senses.

But when you saw the tip of a black hoodie through the window of the car you knew you weren’t losing it.

“Who’s there?” you shouted.

No response.

“Listen,” your voice shook, “I’m about 10 seconds away from dialing 911 so if you’re not interested in explaining to the cops why you’re sneaking up on -”

“Ain’t no need for all that.” You heard a voice call back.

Your breath stilled. As soon as the voice hit you, it was like the ground beneath you had been ripped away. You didn’t even feel like you were in your own body anymore.

You dug your nails into your palm, trying to startle yourself awake. Surely you had to be dreaming.

But when the figure stood and faced you, their hood falling back to reveal their face, you couldn’t deny what you were seeing.

There were so many emotions swelling inside you at once. Disbelief, disappointment, anger and relief.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so many things at once.

Perhaps the most compelling was the realization that despite everything, you still felt love. So much love that it made you feel weak.

It almost made you forget everything that’s happened.

The feelings of abandonment. The nights of endless tears. The calls and messages that would never seem to go through.

Feelings of confusion. Of constantly wondering what you did wrong.

Questioning if any of it was ever as real to him as it was to you.

You could almost forget it all. Run right across the street into his arms. Hug him and kiss him over and over. Tell him how much you missed him. How much you need him. How much you forgive him if you could just be together again.

But as quickly as those thoughts teased your mind, the feelings of anger and betrayal enveloped you like an unrelenting wave.

You couldn’t allow the love you felt to erase the hell you’ve endured. You wouldn’t.

So you swallowed the tears that threatened to spill and turned away, making bigger strides to get back to your cousin’s apartment.

You could hear him shout your name but you kept moving.

He must have crossed the street because you could hear him calling directly behind you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t say a word. You just kept moving.

Choosing to run was just plain stupid, but it was your only resort to get away fast.

Not only was it stupid because your feet hurt like hell and you were risking a face plant any second, but it was stupid because he was the fucking punisher.

Any attempt to try and outrun him was pointless. He’d be able to catch you before you could even finish your next thought.

“Hey!” he yelled, finally catching up to you and grabbing your arm. “Just hold up would you?”

“No!” you shouted, yanking yourself out of his grasp. You took a few steps backward and he held his arms up in defense.

At this point you know you looked like a mess. The hot tears you were trying to suppress had spilled over and you could taste the salt of them on your tongue.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so much but seeing the pained look on his face broke your heart.

To be honest he looked like shit. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in months. His beard was long and unkempt. It even looked like he’d lost weight. And his eyes, the biggest tell of all, were sad and empty.

“I just want to talk.” he spoke calmly.

You shook your head. “How did you find me?”

When you left the witness protection program you didn’t even tell Madani where you were going. She tried to pry it out of you, swearing that it was her duty as her job and as a friend to know. However, you wouldn’t budge.

The people that were after Frank had been taken care of according to Dinah. You didn’t want to continue living out the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.

So you thanked her for all of her help and you wished her the best, but you didn’t want any ties to your life back then. You didn’t want any more reminders of him.

“He asks about you, you know?” she had said during your last conversation. “Every week like clockwork. I haven’t told him anything. Just that you’re safe and happy.”

You scoffed, “Well at least one of those is true.”

She was silent for a moment. “I hope you can give yourself a chance to be happy again. Love doesn’t always look the way we want it to and life is hardly ever fair, but once we choose to accept the pieces we are given…. we can allow ourselves to move on.”

You know Dinah meant well. And you appreciated how close the two of you had gotten based on the circumstances. But you weren’t sure if you could agree with what she was suggesting. It felt impossible to move on when your whole body still ached for him.

“Thank you Dinah.” you relented, “Who knew you could be so therapeutic?”

“Just part of the charm.” she laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between you. You were sitting on the balcony of your cousin’s apartment, and for a brief second you felt a little bit of excitement at the opportunity to start over.

Your cousin had managed to get you a job and while it wasn’t exactly what you were doing before, it was familiar work.

You’d be working for a publishing company polishing and approving manuscripts. It was boring, monotonous work but it was safe.

You thanked Madani again and expressed the hope of following up again someday in the future.

Then you changed your number and disabled your emails.

You knew doing so wouldn’t stop them from being able to find you if they really wanted to. Her and Frank were both good for that. But it gave you a sense of control for now. That you were the one deciding to distance yourself this time and the choice wasn’t being made for you.

“Could we go some place to talk?”, his voice broke you out of the memory.

You crossed your arms.

“No. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere after months of silence expecting to just talk. I have nothing to say to you.”

The words that tumbled out of your mouth were meant to be delivered with strength and conviction. Instead, they sounded more like someone trying to convince themselves that they believed them.

“I can explain whatever you want. Just let’s get out of the cold here, there’s a diner not too far out.” he said, tilting his head back towards where you came from. “We could get a cup of co-”

“No, Frank, I want to stay right here.”

He closed his mouth, but you could tell he was trying to keep his composure. You were being stubborn and as much as you hated being in the cold, you didn't want to be around other people.

You didn’t want to take the chance of losing your shit while people were trying to enjoy their food in peace.

“I get that you’re angry, but there’s a lot you don’t understand. I was just trying to protect you.” he tried to reason.

“You left me Frank. You didn’t text, you didn’t call. You left me completely in the dark.” you cried, wiping angrily at your face to rid the tears that were escaping.

“Do you know how scared I was? Having strangers show up to my house and basically tell me I couldn’t exist as me anymore? I had to move and change my name. And the one person I needed more than anything—the one person who could make all of it feel okay— wouldn't even answer a damn phone call.”

You suddenly felt like you were back in the empty apartment Madani had set you up in. You hardly knew her before that day, she was just “someone who had worked with Frank before”, according to what she told you.

But she kept giving you this look. This look that both expressed the pity she felt for you and the wonder of how you ended up in a situation like this? How you managed to get mixed up in the world of Frank Castle?

But you had met him after he had left that life behind him. And according to him, the life that he was never going back to. Things had been good for so long that you never even questioned it until that day. Now you didn’t even know what was real.

“You were in danger alright? I had angered some really powerful people. I had hurt them, did things I’m not proud of and I wasn’t about to let you take the fall for it. You weren’t safe with me.”

“I was always safe with you!” you shouted, “Who else could’ve kept me more safe than you? We could’ve worked it out together, we could’ve came up with a plan—” you stopped as you watched Frank shake his head in disbelief, “What, Frank? What the fuck is that about?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Come up with a plan? Really?” he scoffed, “This isn’t team sports. It’s not some dumb escape room you sit around and solve clues in. It’s real fucking life.”

You looked down at your feet. The escape room comment was a low blow. It was something you loved doing and grumpy Frank hated. He’d go along with it if you planned it, not bothering to hide his disdain at first, but by the end of it you knew he had fun with you.

You didn’t think he’d throw it in your face as a means to mock you.

“Frank, we were partners. That’s what you do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “You work through things together. As a team. Not one person taking over and telling the other person what to do all the time, but see you didn’t ever want to do that did you? You didn’t think I was capable right?”

“Don’t go there.” he warned. You could see his hands start to twitch. In the past his agitation would have gotten you to dial it back a little. You hated fighting with him and it was never worth it.

But this time you didn’t care. You didn’t understand why he was the one so angry.

“Why not?” you probed, “You always made it seem like I was one mistake away from getting myself hurt.”

“That’s because you never took things seriously. You had no sense of danger. Too trusting, too carefree, too-”

“Stupid?” you interjected.

“I didn't say that.” he shot back. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to find some place to channel the tension. You could tell this was not how he wanted the conversation to be going either.

You couldn’t believe you were having this same fight. It was something you never got along about.

You tried to be understanding. You both had different life experiences and because Frank had a military background, he had been trained to look at things a certain way.

He was trained to look for a threat and “take it out before it took you”. Transitioning back to civilian life wasn’t always that simple. Those habits could be hard to unlearn.

It wasn’t always bad, but it wasn’t always necessary.

Not every stranger was a potential threat set out to hurt you.

Staying late at work didn’t mean you were in danger and someone was holding you hostage.

Interviewing a source for your upcoming news article didn’t immediately put a target on your back.

But Frank always anticipated the worst.

You know it was his way of expressing his love but it could be a lot at times. You just wanted to enjoy life together without always feeling like there was some danger lurking around the corner waiting to get you.

“Go ahead Frank,” you continued, “Let me hear how stupid it was for me to walk home by myself tonight. How naive it was to risk getting hurt when I should’ve called a cab.”

“I ain’t gonna act like it was a good idea, and up until a few minutes ago I’m sure you were realizin it wasn’t either.”

You let out a groan.

“I was almost home, besides I don’t think anyone would’ve tried anything with the big bad punisher stalking me.” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.

“I mean really Frank, what was your plan? Were you just gonna jump out and shout surprise? Were you gonna follow me home to make sure no one grabbed me? Stare down the cars that drove past me? The people that passed me? What was the fucking point?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything.He kept his gaze down at his boots. The twitching of his hands had stopped, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest had slowed down.

“I needed to see you.”

The phrase was simple, but it held such weight.

You understood what he meant. You felt the desperation in his voice. And yet you couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“What about all the times I needed to see you? To hear your voice? Why didn’t I deserve the decency of a phone call, a text message, anything?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“Bullshit.” you spat. “You could risk asking Madani about me?”

His head shot up at that.

“Are we gonna do this all night?” he asked, the anger picking up in his voice again, “Huh? We’re gonna just keep yelling at each other? Who was right? Who was wrong?”

“Yes Frank because I’m angry with you! You made me feel unimportant. You made me feel helpless, like I had no control over my own damn life anymore.” You stepped closer, making sure he couldn’t avoid your eyes.

“You pushed me away like I meant nothing to you!” you shoved him.

“No.” he shouted, “I pushed you away because you meant everything to me!”

He turned away and let out a deep breath through his nose. The weight of his words slamming into you like a wrecking ball.

“Everyone I've ever cared about gets hurt because of me. Because of my demons. Because of the shit I've done to other people. I couldn't take that chance with you. They were so close to hurting you. I had to do something. That’s why I contacted Madani. That’s why we got you into witness protection.”

You felt the sting of the tears start to swell up again. From anger, frustration or sadness you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all three.

“You want to know why I couldn’t say goodbye to you? Why I couldn’t call you? It’s because I knew—,” he paused and looked off to the side, “I knew that if I saw you—if I just heard your fucking voice—I’d change my mind.”

He finally locked eyes with you again, taking a step closer to you. He was testing it out, seeing how close you would let him get. To his surprise you didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t be selfish with you.” he said softly.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew the people that had been after Frank were relentless, but you never once feared for your life. Maybe there was more to it that he kept from you, and you wanted to trust him, but it didn’t diminish what you experienced while he was gone.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I hurt you. But I’m not sorry I did it because you’re safe. And I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’d do it again in a fucking hearbeat if it meant nothing would happen to you.”

“It’s just—.” your voice trembled and you bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t put the words together.

“What is it?” he asked gently, taking another step towards you. This time he was close enough he grabbed the bottom of your chin and tilted it up towards him.

“I really missed you and I didn’t think you cared about me anymore.” You choked.

Suddenly you felt yourself pressed up against his chest as he pulled you into him. “No baby, that’s not true.” he soothed.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, letting all the pent up emotions slowly release. God you forgot how good it felt to be held by him.

All the nights you longed for this very feeling. For him to hug you and kiss you and tell you everything was gonna be alright.

You could feel your unsteady breathing start to level out again and all the anger and frustration slowly disappear. It was as if he was a magnet, pulling out the deepest emotions you tried so hard to bury.

“I missed you so fucking much you have no idea.” He pulled back, tilting his head down to look at you.

You both locked eyes and without thinking twice you kissed him. He responded instantly, pulling you so tightly against him it was as if he was trying to swallow you whole.

That feeling people mention of the world standing still—you finally understood what that meant.

When you couldn’t breathe anymore you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“What does this mean, Frank?” you quietly asked. “Can we be together now? Do we just go back to the way things were before?”

He was quiet for a moment and you almost regretted asking the question.

“It’s whatever you want it to be sweetheart.” he finally answered, “You tell me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. One half of you wanted to be together again. The other half wasn’t so sure you should give in this easily.

What if it happened again? You didn’t doubt there were more people out there that’d like to see Frank Castle and the people he loved, hurt.

Would he push you away? You didn’t think you could survive it a second time.

“Frank, I love you. I want to be with you. But I need you to treat me like an equal. I want to be included in decisions. I don’t want to be kept in the dark again, it isn’t fair.”

Though he wasn’t speaking, you could tell the thoughts were churning in his head.

“If something like this comes up again I want to know about it. I want to have a say in how we handle it. Can you please promise me that?”

Frank let out a heavy sigh. He had to fight with the selfish side of him that wanted to say no. This shouldn’t even be something you have to worry about. He’s the one that should be responsible, not you.

But if he was being honest with himself these past several months were hell. He hated not being with you and maybe compromising would be the best thing to do after all.

He didn’t like making promises in general, but as he looked into your eyes he couldn’t bring himself to fight anymore. He needed to be with you just as much as you needed him too.

“Okay.” he agreed quietly.

“Promise me.” you urged again. You needed to hear him say it.

“I promise.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your body had become until you felt your shoulders relax. Frank pulled you into him again and you could feel the tension in him relax as well.

If anyone would have told you an hour ago you’d be standing in the middle of the street being held by Frank you would’ve told them they were crazy.

There were nights you never thought this moment would come. So as the two of you continued to stand there, holding onto each other. You realized there was probably nothing in this world that could match this feeling.

You would make sure that no matter what was waiting for you around the corner, you’d never let go again.

[cyborg-franky]

Comforting their partner

I think I needed this myself, who knows.

MODERN AU - SFW Ace x GN Reader Marco x GN Reader Rosi/Corazon x GN Reader

Ace

You’d been exchanging texts with Ace all day, and he knew you weren’t in a good place—stressed, tired, and burnt out. He spent most of his day sending you pictures of Stefan, his father's dog, and a large selection of dumb selfies and memes he’d collected.

It made you smile, made everything just a little less heavy to know he was right there for you even if you couldn't see him. You were so swamped with your chores and work that free time slipped through your fingers, leaving you further fatigued. 

You lay in bed, staring at your TV, feeling so sorry for yourself. Things just kept piling up, and you were about to burst from how much you stuffed down and pushed aside. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You bit your lip, not wanting to just burst into tears. You looked at your phone and saw nothing. Ace hadn’t replied in over ten minutes.

Maybe he’d finally passed out or was playing another game with his brothers.

You could feel the sadness creeping in until there was a tapping on your window. You opened your eyes and stared at your curtains. The same tapping happened again, and you sat up, pulling them open and almost jumping. 

Ace was outside your window, having climbed the tree. He was waving with a huge grin on his face.

“The fuck, Ace?” you huffed at him when you opened the window, and he slid in, getting his foot stuck and falling onto the bed below with a laugh and looking up at you. “Well, sounded like you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he shrugged from where he was making himself comfortable on your bed, kicking off his boots. Both of you wincing when they thudded to the floor. 

You sighed, your anger melting away as he held his arms up. He made grabby hands as you slowly leaned in, letting Ace grab you and pull you down against him. He cuddled you up to his side, your head against his chest, and you heard the rumble of his voice and his heartbeat. You closed your eyes when you felt fingers running through your hair.

“You wanna talk about it some more?” he asked, and you shook your head, draping an arm over his waist and sighing, breathing in his smell. It was always comforting, like a warm fire on a cold night.

“Alright, wanna watch funny videos?” he suggested, and you nodded. He got comfy, arm around you, and phone in a position you could both watch. 

The night ended up in your boyfriend's arms, just the two of you, silly videos to entertain you and take you away from your troubled thoughts.

Marco

He’d been texting you when he got a spare moment at work and worried about how you felt. He felt bad he couldn’t duck out of work to come, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss the bad thoughts away.

But he listened to you, let you vent, and even gave advice when you asked for it.

Thanks to Marco, you were currently watching a comfort show, curled up on the sofa and cuddled up in blankets as you tried to let the show distract you enough. Every so often, you’d message him. He checked in on his breaks, and although Marco wasn’t here with you, you felt connected and cared for anyway. He spoke so soothingly and calmly, like a soft breeze.

It was evening by the time he came over, knocking on the door andamiling at you, his half-lidded eyes full of love as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, let's go for a ride,” he said, his car still running on the drive. You could hear his music faintly from the open window.

“Okay, where?” you asked as you grabbed your phone and keys and locked up. “Just around.” 

The wind ran through your hair, his hand on your thigh, and you both listened to your music as you cruised through the peaceful evening. You were just happy in one another's company, letting the night and his comforting aura chase away the sadness. 

He knew how much you needed to get away from the noise of the world around you, driving a little ways from the city, where the stars twinkled in the sky brighter than you were used to.

You soon pulled up to a late-night food place. Marco killed the engine, the music shutting off as he nodded for you to get out. “Let's get something to eat, or at least a coffee, yoi.” Marco smiled at you before getting out of the car.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the cafe, you both shared a plate of fries, not feeling super hungry. You sipped your drink of choice as he drank his coffee.

“So, want to tell me about what happened today?” he asked, his hand reaching across the table to find yours. The weight of his larger hand on yours calmed your jumbled mind enough to pick through the mental clutter. “Well… so this happened today, and I just am struggling with it… It’s silly though.” You said with a dry chuckle, thinking he would judge you for how dumb it was, how it didn’t feel like a real problem.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand. “If it upset you, it’s not silly, okay?” You paused, thinking his words over, seeing the warmth of his smile. “Okay,” you nodded and talked it out with him.

Rosinante

He knew you’d had a rough time at work today; everything that could go wrong had. You were tired, exhausted, and struggling to deal with it. You messaged him on your lunch break, not wanting to vocalize what was wrong, just taking comfort in his messages.

All the heart emojis and silly selfies of him making a half-heart with his fingers, his big charming grin filling the screen as he beamed brightly. You sent one back, completing the heart he was sweet.

When you got home, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders, the bad feelings dragging you down, making your feet feel heavier. You opened the door and took a deep breath, trying to feel better about just being home and away from the job that stressed you out,

“Hey!” Rosi said, a smile on his handsome face as he stood up, towering over you. He pulled you into a hug, keeping you close and not letting go. He didn’t want to pull away first. He wanted to give you the hug you needed.

When you managed to fight the urge to cry, you peered up at him and got a kiss on the forehead.

“I have something to cheer you up…” He said with a wink. Pulling away, he nodded to the basket on the table.

You looked through it: comfort snacks you loved, a movie you wanted to see for ages, and other little bits and pieces that he knew you loved, including a plushie you held to your chest and smiled back at him. “Thank you so much, Rosi. I love you.” I love you too, and I hope it helps even a little!

You spent the evening cuddled on the sofa, happily eating your snacks, wrapped in a blanket, watching the movie he’d bought. Rosi gently rubbed your leg, trailing fingertips up and down your skin to keep you relaxed and calm.

He knew you’d talk about it when you were ready. He was never the type to push or ask, knowing that when you felt up to it, you’d talk it out with him, and when you were ready to share, he was ready to help you. He took your hand and brought it to his face, kissing your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Much better, thank you.”

[baylz]

CHAPTER FOUR: apricity

main masterlist | now playing: Pink Moon by Nick Drake

Y/n had spent half the night successfully avoiding him. Every time she was even slightly in his line of vision, she would immediately duck under the table, acting as if she had dropped a spoon or even started an unnecessary conversation when she knew absolutely nobody there.

It was strange. This was strange. Why was he everywhere?

Y/n thought the only thing she’d have to worry about today was not making a fool of herself, but now she had to make sure to avoid an old one night stand from college. And dropping out of 5 story bathroom window was completely out of the question.

The night had passed in her favor and she was quick to make her way to the elevator. Pressing the button, she waited. It wasn’t long before there was a ding! and the stainless steel doors slid open for her. Selecting the first floor, it makes another noise and the doors began to whir closed.

The wall was cold when she leaned against it and it dawned on her that her jacket was still hanging on the back of her chair inside the banquet hall. She groaned, being on her feet all day and having to possibly having to go up and down was not something she was looking forward to. She contemplated on going back to get it or just simply sprinting to her car the minute she left the building. Fortunately for her, there was a third option.

Which was the hand that jammed itself between the elevator doors from shutting completely. A panting Akaashi with his cracked glasses askew, blue veins visible from the amount of force he was putting into pushing the door all the way to let himself in wasn’t the sight she was expecting for the evening. “Sorry to surprise you after your not to subtle attempts to ignore me tonight, but you left your jacket.” He huffed, holding out the forgotten item to her.

She recieved him with a sympathetic look as she pulled it onto her body. Eternally grateful for the warmth that enevloped her and stopped the shivering she didn’t even notice. The elevator had jerked to a stop, the machine rumbled and suddenly it was hard to stand.

As if on instinct or maybe out of panic, the two clinged to each other as the metal box shook. Y/n shamefully allowed Akaashi to hold her, hands gripping to front of his cashmere sweater with her head tucked under his chin. She wasn’t sure who did what first. All she knows right now was the security he provided her until the world around them went still.

“Is it done?” She asked, eyes squeezed shut. She’s never been scared of elevators but this definitely unlocked a new fear.

“I think so.” And she didn’t analyze the tone of his voice or the way he still held onto her when there was no need for it anymore.

“We should probably call for help or something.”

The people on the phone had said they’ll do their best to be there so now all they could do was wait. It was quiet. Plopped on the floor, Y/n kept herself busy with a word puzzle while Akaashi scribbled away in his journal across from her. It was still freezing and she would occassionally blow the warmth back into her frozen hands.

“What is a word that means warmth of the sun in winter?”

He looked around as if there could be anyone else in the room she could’ve possibly been speaking to, slightly surprised to be acknowledged after an hour of silence and secret glances. Mostly from him.

“Um, apricity.”

“Apricity.” She repeated, testing the sound and writing the word down. “That’s pretty, I like it.”

Keiji’s gaze flickered between the girl the infront of him and his journal. He thought about the last time he had seen her and how he lost his chance at apologizing to her. He contemplated on it. I mean it’s not like she wasn’t not open to talking to him? But what if that was all she wanted from him? God, he was overthinking this way too much. If Kuroo or even Bokuto were here they would’ve squashed any of the thoughts he was thinking right about now.

He could picture them on each side of him. Practically slapping pats of encouragment on his back with their “just go with it!” attitude that always stupidly worked somehow. He felt stupid too. If it were anyone else it would be easy, but he always somehow always seemed to make of fool of himself when she was involved. Akaashi sighed as he looked at her still playing her cross word puzzle. The one she magically pulled out the minute they sat down. Though, with how spacious her bag looked, he wouldn’t be surprised she pulled out the oxford english dictionary as another way to ignore him.

Here goes nothing.

“Y/n I—”

“Anyone in there?” A voice boomed from the other side of the shut doors. Their heads perked up at the sound and y/n scrambled to collect her things and stand. “Yes, we’re in here!” She called out, trying not to sound desperate to get out as she was. Although all she really wanted to do right now was to be home wrapping in a blanket and out of these fuck ass but fabulous heels.

The trap had been cranked open and revealed some men from the fire department. One with tan skin and a rough stubble gestured between the two with a raised brow, “Alright, so who’s going first?”

Side by side they stroll out the building into the parking lot. The harsh autumn breeze hits them all at once and Y/n feels the goosebumps form on her bare legs. Her teeth chatter, rummaging her purse for her keys and listening for the beep. Thank god, her car wasn’t too far from where she was.

The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they continues to walk along the pavement. Disregarding the cold, it felt good to move after sitting for so long. Late night fall walks have always been her favorite thing anyway. “You know, you don’t have to walk me. It’s freezing and the faster you get to your car the faster you can heat it up.” They were already towards the end of the parking lot and Akaashi hadn’t left her side yet.

“I wanted to apologize.” He confessed, stopping when they reached a black miniature vehicle. Y/n turned to look at him, “About what?”

“For scaring you that night. I never got to properly explain myself, but I noticed you were in danger and I simply wanted help. I saw the person drive off and I saw where you went, so I wanted to check on you. I’m really sorry for causing any distress.” He was rambling and he knew that, but it has been eating at him for days. He clasped his shaking hands close to his mouth to hopefully calm his nerves. He didn’t know why he was so nervous.

He was half expecting her to lash out and drive away. Instead, he felt something almost as soft as a mitten touch his frigid fingers. He peered to see what was it.

It was Y/n.

She pulled his hands towards her, placing something in his palms before holding them shut. They were touching and Akaashi couldn't wrap his head around the sudden affection. He felt impossibly hot as she smiled at him, bright and pretty under the street lights. The wind gently blew her hair against her face and it was so cinematic the way that it played out. If Akaashi had the choice, he would never stop pressing rewind.

“Thank you for helping me.”

She got into her car after that and Akaashi watched as she pulled off, waving a goodbye before driving away. Once she was gone, he opened his hands to see what she had given him.

A pocket warmer.

Even so, he felt a little colder than he did moments ago.

NEXT CHAPTER

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[yeeterthek33per]

Careful (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

It was hot.

That was an understatement.

It is fucking hot.

The heat wave that'd hit London just a day earlier was predicted, and yet it was still a lot. Even for an Aussie such as yourself who'd grown up in the gross heat of Brisbane.

The warmups were a nightmare, and it was prediscussed by the officials that there would be set water and ice breaks for both teams.

For whatever reason, you'd forgone having much water after warmups, leaving you stuck feeling a little dehydrated during the first twenty minutes.

The game was rough, which certainly didn't help either. The late afternoon sun was beading down heat on your slightly bloodied up shins.

Unfortunately, you were one to wear your socks low, so you copped more studs than either of you girlfriends liked.

That being said, it feels like your blood is being cooked under the radiation from above.

Running around the field in a black shirt and shorts made you question everything, that's for certain.

The moment the whistle for the water break is blown, you duck into the shade by the bench, immediately grabbing an ice towel and a cold bottle from the cooler, dousing yourself with the cooling liquid.

Katie plonks down next to you.

"You alright?"

You nod.

"About as fine as it gets on this lovely thirty-seven degree afternoon. You?"

"Sweating my non-existent balls off, but what else is new?"

You laugh at that, clapping her on the shoulder before standing again. There's a little whooziness from the sudden movement, but you brush it off.

You join the noticably distanced huddle, standing beside Caitlin who shifts to let you in to the circle.

"Alright ladies, we're doing well out there, but we need to take more caution with those midfielders. They're wedging themselves between you, and that's not what we want. Make sure you're tight on them. Don't let those through balls get to them so easily. Strikers, I need you back when you can be. Leave those extra leads for when we're one hundred percent certain we can break that defensive line. That's the only way we're beating them today. Other than that, perfect work, all of you. Remember to track back where you can, watch that mid, keep it tight. Team on three."

"1.2.3 Team!"

You all disperse, tossing the now warmed ice towels to the sideline and running back out onto the pitch, the sun immediately returning it's assault on all of you.

What you don't notice is the concerned glance from Steph, who now sees the paleness of your face. Your sweating was a concerningly low amount, especially in this heat.

Regardless, the game plays on.

Half time can't come quick enough in your opinion.

You start feeling like the world is spinning a little... differently than what it should. Regardless, you shake your head and press on.

The number of times you hit the ground increases as it gets closer to the end of the first half, leaving you to struggle more and more to get up after each tackle.

At one point, you have to accept the hand up from Kim, who gives you a mildly concerned look as you stumble a little trying to jog back to position, but you wave the older woman off.

Thanking god for the whistle, finally blowing for half time, you make your way off the pitch, hoping the wave of nausea that came over you about two minutes ago would go away.

Making your way into the heavenly air-conditioned locker rooms, you find yourself collapsing a little heavy-handed onto your cubby chair, water bottle in hand.

The noise attracts a few concerned eyes, but you quickly straighten up, avoiding meeting your girlfriend's gaze, who stays watching you for a little longer.

You know Steph's just worried, but you can't help not wanting her to be. Especially not during games.

What you couldn’t see was the exchanged look she shared with your other girlfriend, who had seen your pale face when you'd stood in the circle next to her during the drink break earlier.

You weren't sweating nearly enough for it to be healthy, and they hadn't seen you pick up a drink after warmups when everybody else had, but they'd both brushed it off thinking they'd just missed seeing it.

Now though, they were worried you hadn't been careful with this weather.

Avoiding slouching too much, despite your exhausted muscles' protests, you take slow, small sips of water, not wanting to completely kill your stomach, especially not when the nausea was starting to lesson off now that you were cooling off again.

Your head was starting to hurt now, too, a heat headache setting in. Using the supplied wet cloths, you tried your best to keep away throbbing in your temples, which seemed to worsen the moment you were all told to head back out to the pitch.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump as you walk out onto the pitch again. You relax a bit before tensing up at the look she gives you.

"You doing alright, puddin?"

You nod, covering a wince as the pounding worsens at the movement.

"I'm doing fine. Let's get back to it, yeah?"

Jogging back to position, you shake off the jelly feeling in your legs, brushing it off as just lactic acid setting in and push it down like everyone else does.

It's just twenty minutes later, after a much more scrappy start to the second half, you realise, oh shit, maybe this might be bad.

Struggling to get up for a third tackle in four minutes, you stumble to your feet again, waving off your now slightly fussing teammates, your girlfriends in particular.

"Y/n... maybe you should go off -"

You shake your head no immediately.

"I'm fine, it's only twenty minutes left anyway, I'll be fine. It's just muscular exhaustion setting in, I can push it."

Turns out, you could not, in fact, push it.

Just five minutes later, after receiving a wayward pass from the backs and turning to send it into the box, you're wiped out from behind by one of their midfielders, earning a free kick for your team.

Unfortunately, you hit the turf a little harder than you expected, and it completely winds you.

You take a second to get up, stumbling to your feet to move so Katie can set up for the free kick.

Before you can make it back to your full stance though, the nausea and woosiness come back full force and you collapse like a sock of rocks, vision blurring heavily as you fall, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist stopping you from hitting your head, but your vision still goes dark for a few moments.

A frantic whistle blowing and several bodies surrounding your own is what brings you back, the pounding in your head far worse as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths.

The moment you went down, Caitlin and Steph are beside you, frantically calling the ref and medics over, and that's where everything goes dark again.

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

Everything feels like a blur to you, and you don't fully come to for a long time. Which scares the crap out of your girls. It's not until you're laid on a bed in the paramedic's office of the stadium that you fully regain consciousness.

You feel like absolute crap. Everything feels limp and achey as you shift on the cheap cushioning.

Both of your partners are sat on stools beside you. The doctor is sitting at the desk, writing on some paperwork.

"How you feeling, baby?"

"Like shit, what happened?"

They both frown at that, and the team doctor's head perks up at your answer.

Steph cautiously takes your hand.

"You don't remember how you got here? Or what happened?"

It's a little fuzzy and strain as you might. You don't recall anything that might indicate why you're in a doctor's office. You just feel like shit and are wondering why you couldn't remember anything past getting up again after being tackled.

You wrack your brain a bit more, realising you'd felt like you were practically melting under the heat. Was that why? Had you collapsed? Or had you been taken out? You remember copping a few tackles during the game.

"I- not really. Did I get knocked out or something?"

"Uh, no Y/n, it was heat exhaustion. You collapsed during the game. Can you tell me what might’ve happened beforehand?"

He moves to stand by you as well, clipboard in hand.

Furrowing your brows, you try to think back, but the pounding in your head makes it difficult.

"Not really, I just remember copping a few bad tackles. That's it, really. That and just feeling, I don't know, hot? It's just fuzzy after half time."

The doctor's brow creases slightly in thought, leaving a worried expression on both of your girlfriend's faces.

"That's alright, we can try again later, we'll keep you on watch with the medics at your training centre overnight in case anything comes up."

"In case anything comes up? Is she gonna be okay?"

The question out of Caitlin's lips makes him look up with a reassuring smile.

"It's perfectly normal for people who pass out to not remember the incident itself for a bit. It's just as a precaution. She should be fine."

She nods, and you let your head rest back on the pillows.

"Keep drinking water for us, I'll be back in about twenty to check on you. As for you two, I recommend you both go wind down from the game, take your showers, do what you need to do."

They both go to protest.

"Or if you wanna take turns, your bus will be leaving soon. We'll arrange for her to get transported back to the training centre."

Reluctantly agreeing, Steph moves to go shower and change first, Caitlin stubbornly still gripping your hand.

"I'm alright baby, you can go clean up."

But try as you might, she still refuses.

"I'm not leaving you here on your own."

You smile softly, thumb caressing her hand gently, though it turns into a slight grimace. Having your eyes open at this point is a bit of a struggle.

"You wanna tell me what happened now, or am I wrestling it out of Kimmy later?"

Caitlin shakes her head.

"Hush baby, at least wait until Steph gets back, and we'll tell you. Just rest your head for now."

You hum softly, letting your eyes fall closed again. You must drift off for a moment because it's Steph who gently shakes you awake again.

"Hey, no sleeping just yet, baby."

A soft grumble leaves your lips.

She runs her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, and it helps relieve the throbbing a little, to the point where you fully lean into her touch.

Pouting when she pulls away, you grab her hand and put it back again, which makes her chuckle softly, moving to sit next to you the bed.

"Still bad?"

Nodding slightly in response, you tuck your head into her lap and turn onto your side, letting her continue to comb through your hair.

"So, do I get to know how it happened?"

"We've gotta see what you remember first, baby. Let the doctor do his thing."

The whine from you makes her sigh softly.

"I know, but I wanna know what happened, though."

"You'll find out later, babe."

You look up at her, wincing at the blinding light of the office LEDs.

"But-"

She gives you a stern look but her tone remains soft.

"Patience, Y/n."

Huffing softly, you cuddle back into her lap, nose buried into the skin of her stomach where her shirt's ridden up slightly.

Her hand continues its ministrations while you wait for the doctor and Caitlin.

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

You do end up staying at the training facility. As the night progresses, and the pain lessens slightly with mild painkillers, the event comes back a little fuzzy, but not entirely. You vaguely remember actually conversing with your girlfriend's in the doctors office for a while before you fully came to.

That's probably what had them so concerned in the first place that you weren't fully with it. They end up allowing one of your girlfriend's to stay while the other goes home to rest, but, knowing Caitlin, she'd be up pacing a hole in the floor anyway, most likely texting Steph the whole time.

Being woken every two hours with a killer headache until eight the next morning wasn't pretty to witness. Your girlfriend winced every time the medic received a grumpy swipe as they woke you to quiz you in the middle of the night.

You would later feel bad, knowing they were only doing their jobs, but your beauty sleep is your beauty sleep, dude.

It's about nine the next morning that you're allowed to go home under the condition that if you nap at all, you're to be woken every two hours and if anything worsens, you're to go straight to a hospital over the next few days.

Your girlfriends are also under strict instruction to make sure you actually drink water for once.

You do get a visit from the girls over the next day or so, making sure you're alive still and not going totally batshit crazy. You also do eventually find out what happened.

"God babe, you just crumpled. Like, you got wiped the fuck out and when you tried to shrug it off and get up ready for the set piece, you just fell again. Lucky McCabe caught you or it would've been a worse head injury I reckon."

"Really? What happened after I passed out? Because I don't remember anything after that, just vaguely some conversation in the doctors office before he assessed me."

Steph's hand rests on your leg from beside you, squeezing softly.

"That's what was a little scary. You were talking to us. Conversing with us. You complained you were feeling way too hot. But then you kind of, I guess, come to a bit more. It's like you weren't even awake before."

Caitlin nods.

"You know you really gave us all a heart attack out there."

Sighing softly, knowing you'd been too stubborn to admit it, maybe you needed to be subbed off.

Steph rubs your shoulder.

"You just need to be more careful, babe, especially in a heat wave like this. We hadn't even seen you drink water when you should have after warmups."

There's a guilty look on your face.

"It was just a minor mistake, that's all."

The incredulous look you receive makes you wince slightly.

"Okay, minor mistake, slightly less minor consequences, yeah, I know."

They both shake their heads, Caitlin moving to sit beside you, arm around your shoulder, Steph moving her arm around your waist.

"Look, baby, we know you were trying to push through. But we love you, and we don't like seeing you hurt. Just be more careful, yeah?"

You nod your head in agreement and let it fall to rest on the brunettes shoulder, her hand tightening on your waist, to which you squeeze her leg comfortingly.

She was right. You were a dipshit at the time and totally put your life at risk because of some stupid game time. And you scared the life out of your family and friends whilst you were at it too.

They couldn't bear to see you like that. Neither could you frankly.

Never again.

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

[autisticlancemcclain]

One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

[ruefulwriter]

"Rescuing me makes him so happy!" (Fukumori Drabble)

The ropes weren't exactly cutting off circulation, but they were irritating Dazai. He shifted against the rough chair leg again and gave Mori a long-suffering look from across the dim warehouse.

"Okay, so what's the plan, Mori-san?" he asked, in that faux-innocent tone that usually came before something flammable. "Some elaborate escape tactic? Hidden poison capsule? Trained pigeons with razor blades?"

Mori sat serenely, wrists bound behind his back, legs crossed as if he were lounging in a tea room rather than held hostage by a bunch of amateur thugs with automatic weapons.

"No plan," Mori said, smiling.

Dazai blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We're going to sit here and wait."

Dazai stared at him. "You- wait, wait for what? The sweet embrace of death? Because I'm not dying in a musty warehouse next to you, Mori-san."

Mori tilted his head, smiling with the unbothered grace of a cat in sun. "We're waiting for Fukuzawa."

"...You’re serious?"

"Mhm."

"Why on earth would you leave our fates in the hands of a man who wears his dignity like a sword scabbard?"

Mori looked genuinely delighted by the question. He leaned in as much as his bindings would allow and said, “Because rescuing me makes him so happy.”

Dazai made a strangled sound that was half a groan and half a gag.

“I swear to all that is unholy, if you two start making heart-eyes mid-rescue-”

The wall behind them exploded.

Smoke, splinters, and yells filled the air. Dazai ducked instinctively, the chair nearly tipping over. Through the haze strode a tall figure in crisp black, hair shining silver in the light of the fire now licking at the edges of the warehouse.

“Yukichi,” Mori cooed.

Fukuzawa moved like a shadow, swift and silent, his blade drawn in one smooth motion. Three kidnappers were down before the others even realized he was among them. The last one raised a gun - then dropped it as a throwing knife embedded itself inches from his hand.

In under two minutes, the place was clear.

Dazai, coughing through the dust cloud, watched as Fukuzawa crossed the space to Mori, kneeling gracefully to cut his bindings.

“You took your time,” Mori said, not even pretending to sound reproachful.

“You’re insufferable,” Fukuzawa replied, soft.

Mori smiled like a man victorious.

Then they kissed.

Amidst the wreckage and unconscious bodies, lips met in a long, familiar press that spoke of far too many similar rescues. Mori’s hand curled lightly around Fukuzawa’s collar; Fukuzawa’s fingers brushed Mori’s cheek with the kind of gentleness Dazai hadn’t seen outside of romance novels and dying swans.

Dazai made a noise like a dying animal.

“I am literally still tied up,” he snapped. “Could you not do that in front of me?”

Fukuzawa turned just enough to glance at him, one brow arched in mild amusement.

“Oh,” Mori said cheerfully, “leave him for a few more minutes. Builds character.”

“Builds trauma,” Dazai muttered. “Next time I’m letting the terrorists win.”

[luc1fersducky]

Lucifer Morningstar with an autistic reader (GN)

a/n: hai 🫶 keeping you all fed while i write some smutty smut for you horny little sinners 🫣 but honestly i may just be self projecting here cos my autism is quite an important thing in my life

~ SO.. we all heard the news of this man being canonically autistic, right..? we all saw viv confirm it?

so like... hear me out.. his new partner being autistic does just fall hand in hand because youre both just so understanding of each other.. and imagine if his partner hasn't been understood enough 🥹 our boy is straight on the case!

~ TEXTURES ARE SUCH A BIG DEBATE IN THIS HOUSE. like, you found a blanket in the store thats not only weighted, but this beautiful red colour and such a soft texture, and you FREAKED OUT over it. immediately running to show him with a massive smile on your face and jumping about so eagerly to show him.

While he's offended at first that he can't keep you wrapped up in his wings (this is a topic we'll discuss later in this.), he's heading STRAIGHT to but it for you.

There's a texture either of you don't like? it's gone within hours. Carpet's rubbing along your feet as you walk in all the wrong ways? you bet he's calling somebody to replace it with a more suitable texture.

~ THIS ALSO GOES FOR FOODS. as an autistic person with safe foods, i will 100% NOT be happy if im out of my safe food on a bad day.

So when you're having dinner, for example, and a particular food's got that metally taste that you just can't stand, he can tell simply by the look of discomfort

so he's INSTANTLY getting those safe foods on standby, distracting you as best as he can from the icky parts. poor baby's got to make sure his angel's not going through all of this alone like he most likely has for years :(

(one of his safe foods is 100% pancakes, not up for debate. like this is made for breakfast ON THE DAILY, or a midnight snack after a meltdown)

~ speaking of meltdowns, this sweetheart is a star with them.. whether it be a sensory overload, or an emotion going into overdrive. he's clueless at first sometimes, he can't help that he was half asleep!!

but once he's given it a minute of prolonged eye contact, he's very quickly spotted the signs. He's getting all the comfort objects and foods you can think off, and if the wings comfort you; you're 100% getting wrapped in them like a wing burrito!

If it was the noises possibly overwhelming you, I can imagine that the wings would DEFINITELY be an excellent alternative for ear defenders as well as a comfort object, the fluff easily relaxing you.

and if you struggle to sleep after said meltdown, he's softly lulling you to sleep with sweet little whisper songs, as to not overwhelm you with the noises more (even with the wings). what a gentle boy he is 🥹🫶

~ MY FAVOURITE PART. THE SPECIAL INTERESTS. have you seen this man?? those ducks are 100% his, and he is 100% going on rant after rant about them

and you are 100% more than happy listening to him as he drags you into the interest too (MUTUAL SPECIAL INTEREST YES.)

but if you have a singular special interest, he is going to sit there and put every little thing into it as much as he can!!! upset? hes bought you little merch for it. rambling on about how he'd enjoy it too and should watch it? he's booked out a whole day to watch it with you, all snuggled up.

~~~

might do a part 2 u never know

ducky signing out!! 🍎

[cursedbycain]

rooftop - Cain x Lane

tagging: @rc-catalog and ofc my magic 8 ball @kazu-naito for inspiring this

synopsis: a tender moment before everything goes sideways

tw: mention of suicidal thoughts, rated M

wc: 1.1k

“Do you want to go right now?” Cain asks. Lane shakes her head in response, leaning against the railing slightly.

“Let’s just…relax for a minute.” It’s hardly a relaxing moment, the anxiety of her plan settling in her stomach like lead. So many things have to go perfectly and even then Lane isn’t quite sure what comes after. But standing next to the angel, she feels safe.

She grips the cool metal of the railing to steady herself. The half can of soup hadn’t been much and she still felt a bit weak. The cold air is soothing, and she shuts her eyes to pretend she’s somewhere else for just a moment. A cool hand gently covers hers. She sneaks a peak over at the immortal, who continues to stare out into the city.

They’re both quiet for a while. It’s Cain who breaks the silence, thumb skimming over her hand.

“I heard you talking. To…him.” He spits out the last word. As if Abel’s name is a poison he refuses to let touch his tongue.

Lane raises an eyebrow in response, waiting to see if he’ll continue. Cain had been coming out of his shell before. But it seemed the attack on the base had sobered him slightly, seemingly realizing that he wasn’t as in control over the situation as he had thought.

“And what did you think?” She had pretended it hadn’t hurt to hear the things Abel said. Of course, Cain had already told her that out of all the immortals and humans he had ever met, he had liked her. She hadn’t doubted that for a second. But she wondered if the fact she was human had ever given Cain any doubts. That one day he would watch her die and be forced to live on.

“He doesn’t know me. He can act like he’s felt my feelings but if he had…” He trails off but his grip on her hand tightens in an unsaid meaning.

“Do you really feel nothing for him? It doesn’t seem like he holds a grudge.” Cain makes a noise of irritation, like whenever Lester would say something stupid.

“The reason that I have my…specialness is because him and our mother wanted me dead. They wanted to take whatever little life I had and give it to him. He was the one with the power, the prospects, the future. I was nothing. I was going to let them. I wanted to just let them take it and be done with my miserable life. But then…” He’s quiet for a moment, pulling his hand away from hers. It’s only when she glances over at him does she realize why.

He’s crying.

Cain turns his face away in attempt to hide the shiny tracks on his face. His wings give him away, trembling slightly as he roughly rubs away the tears. She reaches out, gently gripping his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. At first, he jerks slightly. Fear grips at her heart for a moment, worried he’ll fall right off the roof. Her free hand snaps out to clench his jacket. It’s a silly, human, fear but she can’t bring herself to let go. His eyes are downcast, afraid to meet her gaze and see what she thinks of his weakness. Lane gently cups his face, rubbing at the remaining tears with her thumbs. It’s only then does he look up.

His mask of indifference is gone. He looks softer this way, blue eyes tinged red from tears, vulnerability pouring out of him. The faint wind tousles his blond hair and she removes one hand from his face to gently push it out of his eyes. Cain stares deep into her eyes, searching not for memories, but for comfort. He pushes himself off from the ledge to stand closer to her. His hands grip her hips as if steadying himself. A shaky breath slips from his lips and he ducks his head down to press into the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist.

She reaches up to hug him as close as she can, rubbing the back of his head. It’s a nearly crushing embrace but it fills her with warmth. He trembles in her arms.

Lane holds him for as long as he needs, until he slowly pulls away, hands resting on her waist. His face remains close, eyes taking her in. He brushes his lips against hers softly, almost as in apology.

On instinct, she leans closer, not ready to break from his embrace just yet. He hesitates for a second before pressing his lips to hers firmly. It’s a gentle kiss, one filled with tension for the future. Still, they let themselves relax into it.

Cain pulls away slowly, resting his forehead against hers.

“We should get going.” He states, but makes no move to pull away. She hums in agreement, letting her eyes memorize every inch of his face. It was nothing she hadn’t seen a hundred times over. But she could never tire of looking at him.

“We’ll have to fill him in. At least a bit.” The mention of his brother sobers Cain up and he looks over her to glance over at the rift once again.

“Better that you do it.” His mask is back on, not a speck of vulnerability left on his face. She can tell he’s mulling over her plan, assessing points of danger. He doesn’t like being on the sidelines like this but he couldn’t exactly come with her. She has to go on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. A smile tugs at his lips as he looks at her in slight confusion. Lane merely shrugs and pulls away, heading back down to speak to Abel.

Of course, the first thing Abel does is criticise. He attempts to disagree with the plan but quickly realizes he doesn’t exactly have other things to do. When she gets everything ready, she undoes the chains attaching him to the bed and gestures for him to get up. At first, he hesitates. Then he hears a familiar flutter of his brothers wings and stands.

Cain lands next to her, hand gently resting on her lower back while he glares at his brother. It’s a warning look, one that makes Abel immediately more agreeable. Cain turns to her, leaning in close and keeping his voice to a whisper.

“Be careful, alright? I’ll stay as close as I can.” In a clear moment of worry, Cain presses a kiss to her forehead. She hears a disgruntled sigh nearby and Cain goes rigid. His fists clench before releasing and straightening up.

She takes a steadying breath, heart still warm from the kiss.

“Alright,” she straightens. “Let’s go”

[kaijusnz]

Time to dip my toes into some h/s/r snz head canons bcz I love the characters (omg this has been sitting in my drafts for months)

Stelle

New body so everything makes her sneeze

Allergic to every damn thing

Every plant, strong smell, or touch

Cannot hold back whatsoever

Can only kind of half stifle

The most out of control desperate buildups ever

Super desperate sneezes

Doesn't cover or even turn away

Sometimes but very rarely sneezes into hands

Just an absolute menace and gremlin all around

Hasn't gotten sick yet but would absolutely fight everyone to not be left out of anything

3/10 pitch, 8/10 volume, 7/10 wetness

March

Always challenges herself to hold back her sneeze for no reason

She's super good at it too

Vocal buildups when she starts slipping

Once she starts tho she has suuuuper long fits

Super cute sneeze

Himeko

Fans her face

Pre sneeze face for a good 10 seconds before sneeze

The like loose fist??? under nose stifle

It's like a half stifle

Always in three's

Tries to snz politely but when she lets them out they can be kinda loud

7/10 pitch, 9/10 volume, 4/10 wetness

Dust allergy

Kafka

Would absolutely play up the need to sneeze if she figured out you were into it

The moany buildups

Probably likes sneezes tbh

Holds back so her buildups are drawn out

Super wet sneeze

Wet stifles

Would sneeze on you or muffle against you 100%

Kinda tired?? sounding sneeze, lazy sounding?? kinda like her voice?

5/10 pitch, 6/10 volume, 10/10 wetness

Seele

Itchy, drawn out buildups

Vocal hitching and then the snz goes away and then she starts again for like 5 minutes before the snz comes out

Allergies

False starts

Like horrendous false starts to the point that Bronya sometimes has to help her get the sneeze out

She's found that she can kind of massage Seele's nose in a specific way to "mold" the sneeze (fanfic maybe? 👀)

Stuttery buildups and sneezes

No hands stifle that sounds really wet

Also one of those stifles where you can hear that it was really in her nose?? like not throat stifle??

When she lets them out they're very loud and rough sounding

6/10 pitch, 9/10 volume, 8/10 wetness

Bronya

Sneezes sound held back around people but when she's alone (or only with Seele) they're quite big and loud

Covers around people but not alone (or with Seele)

My brain tells me she's a snzfucker for Seele

Natasha

Very soft gasp, very soft snz

Like the type that seems held back and breathless whisper like

Always cover or turns away

Photic sneezer

Boing

Xueyi

Gives no indication she's about to sneeze

Will just suddenly whip her head to the side with like a "Pshii!" sounding snz

Used to have hayfever but the puppet body doesn't

Sneezes to clear contaminants from the puppet body

Doesn't feel a tickle or much sensation it's more of a mechanical thing

Hanya

5 rapid stifles sneezes

She'll hold a finger up until she's done then move on

Photic sneezer

When she comes out of the prison and the sun hits her she always sneezes for a few minutes

Has probably made herself sneeze on accident with her paintbrush or messed something up because she sneezed while painting/writing

Guinaifen

Stuck sneezes all day

She'll be right on the verge of sneezing with that pre-sneeze expression and it just won't come out

Wet sneeze

Sound messy

Forgets to cover

Just ducks her head down

Would absolutely do a sneeze challenge video of some sort (I may have a fic idea about this 👀)

Qinque

Gremlin snz

Messy ass sneeze

Build ups off and on for a few minutes before the sneeze comes out

Silver Wolf

Has a sneeze button that she's relentlessly teased with

The stellaron hunters will give her a rough boop to the nose and it sends her into an immediate sneezing fit

Tries to hold back super hard (gremlin noises) but can never hold out

Very wet and gremliny sounding sneezes

Super, super rapid sneezing fits when her sneeze button is pushed

Oddly if someone presses her nose and holds it mid-sneeze it just gets stuck until they let go

Ruan Mei

Sudden fits with no warning

The small, short sneezes that are super rapid

Never covers in time

Probably allergic to multiple plant hybrids she's made