#but I’ll put my hand to paper and it’ll go limp like I’ve never held a pencil like bro come on don’t do this to me now 💀💀💀

[chibishortdeath]

Mspaint is really fun actually—

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top 26- Self Betrayal

Here is part 26 of Andrew’s story, and Whumptober day 5. Carrot Boi’s masterlist is here, and his previous part is here. Prompt: Betrayal. This chapter is a bit long, it’s a little bit of a recap to all that happened, but still important to the story.

CW: bandages, unconscious whumpee, references to multiple past injuries, references to beatings, mentions of blood, possessive whumper, dehumanization.

- - -

Dr. Tusik and Justin had just finished bandaging up Andrew’s feet, when Ali and Mickie showed up into the room.

Mickie stood in the doorway, holding onto the door frame, while Ali cautiously approached the bed.

“How- how’s he doing?” She asked.

Tusik set down the roll of bandages in his hand.

“Better. Much better. We bandaged his back and his feet just fine and he’s getting an iv for some fluids right now.”

“He fell back sleep a few moments ago.” Justin added. “He’ll probably be fine, but he- he just seems so out of it-” There was a seeming hollowness to Justin’s face. A dissociation after seeing his injuries, or a mental block- to keep him from thinking about it all. He kept finding things to busy him as he spoke. Picking up a bandage and moving it around, putting random things away- “-It’s like he doesn’t know where he is, or what’s going on.”

“Justin is right.” Tusik nodded. “I’m afraid the bulk of his recovery is going to be mental. There’s only so many bandages and stitches we can use.”

Mickie stepped forward on shaky legs, her eyes not once moving off of her brother. 

“Actually- we, we had an idea about that. About how to help.”

“Go on.” Tusik stated. 

Mickie looked towards Ali as she began to explain.

“I’ve gone inside someone’s mind before. I can- sorta view their memories.” Justin came to stand near his girlfriend as she spoke, fiddling with her hands. “I don’t do it often because unless someone lets me, I have to force my way into their mind, and I- I don’t-” She breathed deeply. Justin reached down to squeeze her hand. “I don’t prefer to-But I could. With Andrew- for Andrew. I could go in his mind and be able to understand everything that happened.”

“Are you sure Vnuchka?” The Dr. set down the tool in his hand to face the girl. “You won’t overexert yourself? You’ve already done quite a bit of healing today.”

Ali returned the squeeze to Justin’s hand and nodded. 

“I- I can do it. I have to.”

Mickie nodded. “Think about it anyways- Howe was useless. He didn’t know what happened, he just patched Andrew up. If he- when he wakes up- like, fully wakes up- he’s probably not going to be the same immediately.” Mickie took a step closer to the bed and reached out her hand, but quickly pulled it back. “He might have- have triggers, or stuff that bothers him, that’ll send him back there you know? It’ll- it’ll be better if we can know what happened so that we can be careful and avoid hurting him even more.”

“You’re saying he- he might have, what? PTSD?” Justin asked.

“It’s a very real possibility, Justin.” Tusik stated. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he developed at least a bit of trauma from all that he’s been through.”

“It’ll be better for him in the long run if at least one of us knows what happened.” Ali stated. “I can do it- I’ve got the strength still.”

“Alright.” Tusik said. “Go ahead, dear.”

Ali glanced around. “I’ll need everyone to leave, please.” Reluctantly, and after some pestering, Mickie and Justin left the room. “Tusik? You too?”

The old doctor tried to protest but Ali gave him a stern look. She needed to be alone. He could leave his patient for a few moments.

“Thank you.”

“Careful vnuchka. I’ll be right outside.”

Ali nodded, and then sat on the edge of the bed. He looked so incredibly still. She glanced above his head to the wall where all his memories and keepsakes were kept. 

Posters from bands and musicals covered his walls, except for a section above the bed- that was plastered with millions of photos. Polaroids- paper cutouts, printed photos- the wall was covered with smiling faces of Ali, Justin, his mom- sisters, and everyone else he held dear. It was a menagerie of color and euphoria, plastered in a beautiful disarray. It was Andrew.

Ali took a closer look, and let her eyes linger on the memories. 

There was that photo he’d taken of her covered in popcorn during their first movie night. She had woken up with kernels still in her hair the next morning- they were in seventh grade. A couple pictures of him and his sisters lined the walls. One of them he had Mickie on his back, and was holding Erika in his arms. They were all smiling. 

And then there were those of all three of them. Him, Ali, and Justin. When Justin finally opened up to them and became more of a close friend during high school- That trip they took to the amusement park. Ali had a giant stuffed bear in her arms and a hat falling over her eyes, with a boy on either side of her, kissing her cheeks. The two of them had tried for hours competing to win her something from the carnival games. They finally decided to work together, and had stuffed themselves in a photo booth afterwards to document the event.

She wiped away a happy tear from the memory and pulled out her phone, a song coming to her mind.

It was one Andrew always sang. The notes resting easy in his voice, the melody fairly simple. He wasn’t an astounding singer, but he never sounded bad.

The first notes of the piano started echoing, the chords resonating around the room, and Ali breathed.

The moments when Ali had previously entered someone’s mind had been rare occasions. It had only been used in the past for interrogation, or during her training. Never for something this serious. 

The room was clear. The noise of the piano cutting through the eerie silence, and she wished that she had kept everyone else in the room- but she could focus better this way.

He was so still- lying there on top of his blankets. 

She tried not to look at him too much. She would be already seeing far more than she wanted to know.

She gently pulled herself up onto the bed next to him so they were laying side by side. Her mind instantly flashed to those nights in the summer in high school where they would lay like this and look at the stars. 

She reached over and gently grabbed his frail hand in hers. His fingers were limp and cold, but she held tight. She tilted her head to the side until it was brushing up against his, and closed her eyes, right as the singer began to echo the words to the song.

Here I am, Here I am. And the light, is dying.

Ali felt guilt.

She felt Andrew’s guilt. And he felt terrible. 

Ali would admit that he had said some hurtful things to her and Justin that night. But nothing felt worse than knowing they could’ve prevented what happened to him.

She could understand that he sincerely believed he had angered his friends, and that because of that, he deserved every single thing that happened to him.

That belief was prominent and clear throughout his whole captivity.

And then Ali felt dread. 

That sinking feeling in your gut as something terrible happens, as you get in trouble, or in a situation more terrible than you thought.

Ali felt that pit in her stomach as Andrew was grabbed out of the alleyway. As he was shoved down, restrained, knocked unconscious, and dragged to the man they all hated the most.

Where are you? Where are you? Will you answer me?

And then there was anger. 

As Andrew stood in front of that terrible man. 

Anger, as he was beaten with a rod, and humiliated. 

Ali watched, as Splice made him choose between his instruments of pain. She felt anger rise in herself as her friend was electrocuted. And then, as he was tied up and whipped. Even more, as Splice continued to utilize his library of torment, in just the first few hours of his arrival. 

She felt the pain in her shoulders and neck, as he was stretched, and tied down in a torturous position, and left there. 

She could feel in her chest as Andrew’s anger turned to confusion, which turned to fear, and then just the will to survive, and remember to breathe. But her anger remained.

That anger bubbled inside her like the blood that broke to the surface of his skin, bubbling, with every word that man spoke. Every touch, every glance, every weapon.

“I want to hear you beg.”

“You’re not that pathetic, are you?”

“You will listen, when I tell you to do something, understand?”

The anger grew inside of Ali as she felt, saw, and witnessed everything that happened to Andrew, but this was just the beginning.

All alone, in the quiet. And my ears, are thirsty.

For a brief spark, there was hope. 

She witnessed as Andrew met the young doctor, and felt just a little safer with him.

But then that hope was crushed. Again, and again.

Ali seemed like she was sitting in the room with Andrew, where he lie on the bed next to Howe. But she was floating, just observing everything, helpless, as she watched and witnessed. 

Splice approached Andrew where he lay, and she could feel the fear behind his eyes, but there was stubbornness etched onto his face.

She clenched her fists and bit into her cheeks as she tried to remain calm. She had to stay calm- or she would be forced out of Andrew’s mind. But it grew increasingly more difficult the more and more Splice taunted him. 

“I gave you a gift. You need to respond politely. Come on now, use your manners.”

Andrew was screaming.

“What do you say?”

There were tears down his face.

He submitted.

And Ali felt betrayal.

She felt Andrew’s betrayal as he had turned against himself, and his desire to stay strong. But he had betrayed the one thing he had told himself he wouldn’t do. He no longer felt strong.

For your voice- for your voice Can you answer me?

The next events Ali witnessed were crushing- literally.

Her fists shook as he remained defiant, refusing to break. As his head was slammed into the table, blood pouring down his face.

He was grabbed and dragged outside, tied down onto a table.

Her head reeled as she tried to maintain the connection- her anger was growing.

“I will make you apologize.”

“Screw you.”

Andrew couldn’t breathe. Ali could feel the panic rising in his chest as he tried to flow the air through his lungs. 

That panic lead to fear- which led to pain- which led to desperation.

And he betrayed himself once more.

If I try, maybe I can see your shadow In the sodium light that masquerades as moon If I try, I might take off like a sparrow And I'll travel along a guiding breeze

Three words echoed through his brain. It sounded like a megaphone, bouncing off of empty walls. The words reverberated through Ali’s mind. Each time they were repeated, she felt Andrew lose a little more of himself.

“I. Own. You.”

And the next words that repeated further solidified that in Andrew’s mind.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“What are you?”

“A tool. Used how you see fit.”

“Where, and when?”

“Here, and for forever.”

“And lastly, why?”

“Because I deserve it. Because I’m worthless.”

“That’s right. This is no longer your life- but mine.”

Very soon, very soon That's the sound of longing Are you there? Are you there? Will you answer me?

Ali was losing the connection. She had felt so angry and frustrated, and sad and disgusted, that she felt herself slipping from Andrew’s mind. The faint sound of a clarinet in the background echoed through the song, and she fought to keep the connection.

She could tell she was almost done- she just had to finish.

Andrew was collared, muzzled, beaten, bloody, and broken. 

He had betrayed himself, and fully gave in.

The pain became too much, the constant battle between himself, and that man. So he gave up. And Ali could see him slowly becoming everything that Splice wanted him to be, doing everything he was asked, taking every punishment, submitting to every command.

“You can be good right?”

Andrew was nodding.

He was obeying, he was following, and he was slowly decaying.

In my dreams, my beloved lies beside me When the sun lights the room, I find it's only me Only me when the sun is gone.

The memories rushed by faster now. She could tell they were getting closer to the present. 

Andrew was terrified. He was so scared, and in so much pain, and so exhausted, that when he finally saw his friends again, he didn’t recognize them.

Ali understood that he was so focused on avoiding pain, and being good, that he didn’t even comprehend his saving grace, as it stood before his eyes.

And then, when he was finally able to comprehend what happened, he was punished again. He was beaten bloody, he was branded, burned, scarred, and tortured. And he was led to believe that everyone he loved had died.

No wonder he had been so out of it, anytime he was awake for more than a moment he was confused. Or in disbelief or misunderstanding.

Because according to him, everyone was dead. 

And he probably thought that he was too.

Only me.  With the world all around me. When the sun and moon and stars are gone, what’s left is only you.

Ali had to fix this. 

Her entire body was shaking, she had never stayed inside someone’s mind for so long before. She clenched her fists, focused her breathing, and projected her thoughts, forcing the truth into Andrew’s mind.

She echoed words and phrases of love, of peace, of safety, over and over again, until they were shouting louder than his own megaphone of pain. Until she was sure he could hear her.

You belong to yourself.

You are Andrew. A friend, a brother, and you are worthy of love, and peace.

You are safe, at home. And we will always be with you.

Because you deserve it. You are worthy, and you are more than a tool to be used.

Because we love you.

Andrew- we love you!

Will you answer me? Answer me.

- - -

@imagination1reality0 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @thehopelessopus @burtlederp @whump-me-all-night-long @yesthisiswhump

There’s the video of the song from this chapter. It’s called “Answer Me” from The Band’s Visit.

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Day 3: Chris Beck- Daddy and Creampie

Warnings: Dub con, non con, forced pregnancy, breeding kink

Tags: @saiyanprincessswanie​ @mcudarklibrary​ @coconutqueen21​ @jtargaryen18​ @what-just-happened-bro​ @nsfwsebbie​ @bucksgoat​ @gigistorm​ @avengerimscreaming​ @venusavengers​ @saharzek​ @navybrat817​ @xoxabs88xox​ 

XXX

You and Chris worked together well. You and him had been co-workers for years for the Ares 3 mission. Your relationship was strictly professional, but you’d be lying if you both hadn’t snuck off during long training weeks to relieve some pent up energy.

You both had made it very obvious there were no feelings involved and that it was strictly a sexual relationship. He seemed fine with this, and you knew you were. You had bigger things to worry about, things far more important than a relationship. You and your team were on the brink of a breakthrough with the Mars trip being successful.

You were the team’s science officer as Beck worked at the surgeon. You both were to stay behind, you to research the planet and Beck to make sure you’re not hurt without proper assistance. You were to send weekly videos on the information needed for the arrival of permanent human life. 

Though it was a far-fetched dream, you wanted to find and grow enough organisms to start moving humans to the planet. After about 9 years on the planet, you were proud to say you had done just that. 

You excitedly turned on your computer to start a new weekly video, your mouth hurting from the uncontainable joy. “Good evening everyone, by the time this reaches you it should be morning, so good morning to you. I would just like to inform you all that the plants on the C-side of our inhabitants are growing enough oxygen to support 15 people, while the B-side and the D-side are able to hold 35. Side-A is not currently able to hold any form of life due to the temperatures still being too harsh, but I’m sure a weather modifier can be one of the first people on the shuttle here to start changing that safely. Chris and I happily await your arrival, and we hope to see you all soon. Bye-bye.” You smile and wave to the camera as you end the video, preparing it to be sent off. 

You thought about the number of people who would be here just in a few months. People of all ages and backgrounds had signed up to come, including children with their parents, so you could study how it would affect people of different ages, bodies, etc.

Just as you were walking out of your personal quarters, you bumped into Chris. “Oh, sorry about that,” he apologized, steading two mugs he held, “Tea?” You smiled at the raspberry tea he had become famous for making you every evening. 

“Thank you,” you happily grabbed one of the mugs and began drinking, “Just sent off the good news to base.” Chris raised his eyebrows before swallowing his own mouthful of tea.

“Are you excited?”

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to have others around. Not that you’re not awesome.” Chris playfully elbowed you on the arm as you started leading him to the cameras in the kitchen. You wanted to check on the gardens and green life you had been nursing for the past 9 years.”

“No, I get it. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner on this, but man has it been a long nearly a decade.” Chris blew out a heavy sigh.

“God, has it really been that long? Seems like yesterday we got here,” you nodded your head as you checked off every camera for the night, “Well, I’m happy I spent it with you, too. How much you think we missed at home?” Now you let out a deep sigh.

“Who knows. The little information I’ve gathered hasn’t been too interesting, but I’m sure there’ll be something that’ll throw us off. You think socks with slippers are finally socially acceptable in public?” You looked down on your comfort shoes before meeting his eyes.

“If they haven’t, I think they’ll have to make an exception for you. You rock it so well,” he grinned at you. 

You laughed loudly, and he joined in. “Thank you, I’ll put in a good word for your stained shirts.” Chris mockingly rolled his eyes, causing another laugh to leave your lips, before he finished his tea. He took your empty mug to the sink as you got up to shower and prepare for the night. 

As you were in the shower you heard your door opening. “What the Hell, Beck, I’m in the shower.” your mind thought to the cameras in the bathroom that would no doubt see him walking in. Though the toilet and shower area were out of reach of the camera’s view, you still found the invasion too much. Sure they wanted to make sure you and Chris were staying strictly professional, you’d be lying if you said you and him didn’t turn off the cameras every once in a while to get in a quickie. 

You didn’t hear a response, so you opened the curtain to see nobody there. But your door was open. Huh, weird. Maybe he was just dropping something off? 

Once done in your shower, you made your way to your room and shrieked when you found Chris lying nude on the bed. “Chris, the cameras!” 

“Relax, babe, I turned them off. Think I’m a dumbass or something?”

You looked suspiciously at him for a second. “How, the cameras need a password that only I have.” It was your computer after all.

Chris reached for a slip of paper on the bedside table that wasn’t there before. It was the very one Dr. Grudge had given to you before the mission. “You hide everything in the same place. Under your sink isn’t the most clever hiding place, honey.” You rolled your eyes before shaking your head at him. 

“You’re something else, Beck.” 

“You love it. Now come on, it’s been two weeks, I’m hard as fuck, baby,” Chris pouted as he grabbed his massive member. You could feel your pussy clench at his words, and at how much you had missed him inside you. It had been a long two weeks.

You discarded the towel that covered your modesty, quickly climbing on the bed to straddle his hips. Chris hurriedly grabbed onto yours, both of you moaning in unison as you sunk down to his limit. 

“Fuck, daddy. You feel so good inside me,” you moaned as you found a rough but steady rhythm.

Chris growled, “Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight little cunt? God, you’re so tight. I don’t think I’m fucking you enough, what do you think, hmm?” That’s when he took over and started thrusting up into you at a fast rate. The only sounds that could be heard were your loud moans of pleasure and skin against skin. If you listened hard enough, you could just barely hear the sounds of your pussy squelching around his dick. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so hard, you wanna cum baby? Wanna cum all over my fat cock?” Chris’ thrusts got faster and harder as he reached a hand down to play with your clit. “Come on, honey, cum for me. Cum for daddy.” 

“Arg- oh God I’m coming!” you screamed out, drenching Chris in your juices. Chris continued to chase his own pleasure, you still trying to recover from the powerful orgasm. You tried to lift yourself from you to help him cum elsewhere, but Chris’ grip on you never faltered. 

“Let me cum inside you, I wanna feel your tight walls around me as I dump my load into you.” You quickly dropped from your post-orgasmic state at his words. You shook your head hurriedly. 

“No, you know I’m not on birth control,” you couldn’t have them due to them being destroyed on the journey here, “Pull out!” The pull-out method wasn’t the best plan, but it had been working just fine for the past 9 years. You couldn’t risk a pregnancy ruining the progress you had made, the academy would no doubt fire you both. 

“I spoke to Mark the other day, they lifted that rule a little while ago now,” Chris grunted, his orgasm was getting close, “With them sending supplies I figured we could easily get something to prepare for a baby. They’ll be here in what? 6 at most 8 months. You’ll still be pregnant with my baby by then. Our baby.” 

You shook your head. This was madness, even if the rule wasn’t in force you were in no place to have a baby right now. You still wanted to further your career, and you certainly didn’t want to have a baby with Chris. He was a good man, but you couldn’t see yourself with him in that position. 

“Chris, stop. This isn’t funny, let go now. I won’t tell anyone you did this if you stop now.”

Chris just laughed at you, “Can’t do that, baby. I want you to make me a real daddy, I’ve waited long enough. We’re. Perfect. For. Each. Other.” Each word was accompanied by a hard thrust, soon you felt warmth flooding your channel. “Fuck! Take it, take my load.” Chris continued pushing his cum further into you, working himself down his high. 

Chris held you to him as he stayed inside you. He stroked your back as he slowly pulled out of you, forcing your limp body into a position on your stomach. You were too numb to fight back, tears were starting to form in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. 

“You’re gonna be such a good mom, I can see it now,” Chris mumbled as he cupped your stomach before shoving his hardening cock back into you. This was going to be a long next few months. 

[the19thduckpotato]

Blood of the Father (early Dad Might ficlet)

Disclaimer: we played fast and loose with the medical side of this story so please just focus on the Dad Might.  XD  

Trigger warning for blood and injury.  

As always, all the fondest gratitude to @my-favorite-aesthetics

Now then, on with the story!  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

Plit...plit...plit... As Toshinori stumbled into his office, his blood dripped down in a ghastly trail behind him.  He was quick to shut the door then hobbled to his desk. The bottom left drawer held bandages,, the bottom right cleaning supplies.  He pressed his hand against his side with a grimace, fumbling out paper towels and cleaning solution. Leaving the drawer open, he awkwardly wiped the tile floor, soaking up the crimson spots.

"...and your office will of course have luxurious carpet in whatever color you choose," Principal Nezu had chirped. "Tile," Toshinori had quietly but firmly replied. "Hmm?  But why?" "I imagine I may be called upon even while I teach here.  And it's imperative that no one know my secret, sir." "Well of course, but how would carpet--" The tall blond had burst into a sudden fit of coughing at that moment.  Embarrassed, he had fought to regain control then held his blood speckled hand out. "Tile can be washed" he explained, eyes elsewhere.  "Carpet stains." The principal had regarded Toshinori with his bright beady eyes then nodded.  "Oh I quite understand!" he replied amicably.

A few moments later, he was at his desk and glanced back to make sure he  got all the spots Toshi swore darkly. The trail was still there, thicker and darker.  Idiot, he scolded himself.  In such a hurry, I didn't think.   He quickly dug into the left drawer now, his internal anxiety clock ticking loudly.  Sure that any moment, someone would burst through the door. Hurry hurry hurry!

Izuku's footsteps were loud in the silent hallway as he headed to All Might's office as he did every day after school. Sometimes Toshi was there, sometimes he wasn't, but he was okay with Izuku waiting for him and doing some homework. Then they would usually work side-by-side, Toshi on paperwork, Izuku on more homework, the only sounds turning pages and the clicking keyboard. Unless I take a nap... can I afford the time? Will he let me? Well, he's never objected... I've never asked, strictly speaking, but. He shifted the backpack on his shoulders. I can at least take my shoes and jacket off, that'll be nice. He smiled softly, glad to have a place to be so comfortable and casual in. As he approached Toshi's office, he heard the small clicking and thumping of someone interacting with the desk in there. Oh, good, he's in. He tapped on the door, opening it a crack. "Hi..."

Toshinori froze guiltily as he heard the tap, watched the door begin to swing open.  Nononono shi--!! Then heard the voice and relaxed fractionally.  At least the kid already knows my secret.  But he doesn't need to see me like this. He grabbed at the bandage roll, hoping to cover his wounds before Midoriya saw them... then groaned as he lost his hold on it.  The roll seemed to almost gleefully bounce off the desk and tumble toward the boy at the door, unraveling like mad.

Izuku froze, eyes wide, heart spiking in his chest. Then... "...Dang. What happened to you?" He opened the door all the way, picking up what was left of the bandage roll and walking over to the desk, trying to keep his voice casual. I'm probably succeeding... don't overact it... or just don't be worried, I'm sure this happens a lot. Keep yourself a pleasant presence, yes....

Don't freak the kid out.  He may know your secret but let's not ruin his idea of heroes for now. "Runaway Quirk," he explained, accepting the limp bundle that had been a tightly wound bandage roll.  "This poor woman had something like massive porcupine quills.  She was having a bad day and I tried my best to help her."  His upper left arm was sliced in several spots, his right forearm a bit as well.  His dress shirt was understandably in tatters, barely hiding the puncture wound on his right side.  "Easily fixed.  Was just trying when you showed up."

Izuku winced sympathetically, hissing through his teeth. "Ooh. Yeah, that stinks. Can I help at all?"

Don't show weakness. Toshinori sat up stiffly, grinning.  "Nah, I should be fine!"  He attempted to wrap his upper arm in the bandages, grimacing in pain and growling in soft frustration as the bandage thwarted his attempts to control it.

"..." Aahh... "...Are...you sure?" Izuku's voice sounded somewhere between concerned and puzzled. Surely he can't be serious... does he dislike my help for some reason? Does he not think I can do it? "I know how to wrap a bandage, it's okay..." He tilted his head, eyebrows wrinkling.

Toshinori fought with the bandage a moment longer as what he had managed to wrap was already staining red.  "I don't want to trouble you," he replied.  "This is noth--"  He hissed sharply through his teeth as his wounds began to painfully throb in immediate disagreement.

"...Forgive me, but I think I'll be more distressed if I walk away," Izuku pointed out matter-of-factly.

Toshi's head began to ache in tandem with his wounds.  "Perhaps," he said with some difficulty, clutching his side, "you're right.  Some medical practice.  A grand idea.  All right, come here."  He gestured toward the bottom left drawer before wincing again.

Izuku knelt on one knee, opening the drawer. His movements became softer and more fluid in response to Toshi's strained voice. He looked up attentively, waiting for the next instruction.

"Antiseptic," he wheezed.  "Some thicker bandaging material."  He began to realize the steps he had skipped in his wasted haste.  "I'll need you to...ah..."  He looked guiltily at Izuku, the dark circles under his eyes very evident.  "This could get unpleasant.  Are you sure?"

Izuku’s eyes were soft, but expressionless, as was his voice. He nodded once. “I’m sure.”

Toshi gazed at the boy for a moment and felt something stir within his chest.  Gratitude?  Pride in this boy?  Sudden determination to be as brave as young Midoriya was being at the moment? Kid.... He opened his mouth to say something then shook his head, ears pinking.  "All right.  I'll need you to pour some of that antiseptic on that cloth and press it against these slashes on my upper arm.  I might get...ah...loud..."

Izuku’s jaw tightened for a moment, but he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “Alright,” he nodded again, putting the antiseptic on the cloth as requested, then standing, ready to put it on. He paused, asking, “...Do you need anything to bite on? I usually use my sleeve, but...” he motioned to Toshi’s ragged business-shirt sleeve. “Well, that’s not gonna work.”

Toshi seemed to only half hear him, resigning himself to being about to destroy his fan's image of him.  "Hmm?  No no, nothing like that.  I promise you, if it were that bad I would be visiting Recovery Girl."  He rolled back the tatters of his sleeve and took a deep breath.  "Whenever you're ready."

"Well-- if you're sure... do you want a countdown or not?" No, wait, I shouldn't have said that, that's one sentence too many, don't keep him waiting-- but I can't DO it now, that'd be rude...

Toshi regarded his student with a gentle smile.  "That's thoughtful of you.  But no," he added, tensing up once more.  "Let's go ahead and power through this, what do you say?"

"Alright." He put the cloth on, being as gentle as he could.

Toshi's reaction was immediate.  His back arched rigidly and he bared his teeth in a dangerous scowl.  His eyes squeezed shut as cords stood out on his neck. Don't scream, it'll freak the kid out, don't scream don't don't don't

"I'm sorry," Izuku whispered quietly. I know it hurts a lot.

Tears stood in his eyes as he tried to smile.  "No, I'm sorry for making you do this," he rasped out.  "You don't have to continue if you don't want to."

You don't have to smile. "I don't want to stop." He kept it on the wound a moment longer, counting to ten in his head, then took it off. "That's good, right?"

Toshi's muscles untensed as he smiled for real.  Kid....!  "Yeah," he replied in a somewhat strained voice.  "Yeah, that's true."

"Oh you mean the--"  Toshi peeked at the bandage and grimaced at the amount it had soaked up.  "--uh, yeah, yeah, you're doing great.  Just a few more spots to get." Haven't even checked my back yet.

"Okay. Where next?"

"Up to you, really.  Plenty to choose from, heheheh--ow."

Izuku winced in commiseration again. "You got any pain relievers anywhere?"

Toshi's eyes grew wide.  "Oh YEAH!"  He almost slapped his own forehead... if it wasn't for the headache he'd surely give himself doing so.  "Dig in that drawer some more for me, please."

"Sure!" He crouched down again, rummaging about, looking for bottles. He held one up. "This one?"

Pain-bright eyes squinted at the bottle and Toshi nodded.  "That's the one.  Thank you, young Mi--" Weak. Torino's voice.  Toshi tried not to squirm.

Izuku read the instructions on the bottle and shook out a pill, holding it out to Toshi. "You need water?"

Can't even sort out your own medicine let alone bandage yourself. ...stop... Toshi rubbed his aching head, trying to listen to his student. Some great hero, tcha!  You shouldn't even need medicine.  If you had taken care of One for All like you were supposed to-- Stop. Young Midoriya asked him something but Toshi couldn't hear him over the relentless Torino gremlin running amok in his head now. --then you wouldn't even need help.  Back in my day--your MASTER'S day--we were actually made of sterner stuff.  But here you are, whimpering like  some lost abandoned puppy with a thorn in its paw.  Shaming every hero that came before you, shaming your Master-- "I said STOP!"

Izuku froze, shrunk against the desk, eyes wide. N-no you didn't!! What did I do wrong?? I'm sorry!!

Toshi looked up, his heart freezing as he realized he said the last aloud. Your fault. His breathing was ragged, his eyes remorseful.  "Forgive me," he mumbled.  "That was not directed at you, I swear."

Izuku's face morphed to concern, though his body stayed frozen. "Then-- who..."

And now he thinks you're crazy.  Perfect.  Just keep digging that hole, junior. Toshi stared at his hands miserably, wanting to talk but not wishing to burden so young a face with such adult problems.  "...water, please," he whispered, hating himself for shutting Izuku out.

"...Okay...." Izuku placed the pill in Toshi's hand carefully, making sure his hand was gentle when it brushed against the large, shaking one. Standing up from where he crouched, he set his backpack on a mostly-clear part of the desk, pulling out a partially-empty sports bottle and holding it out. "Is this good? I can go and get a cup from the break room if no."

"This is perfect," Toshi replied, really meaning it.

"Okay." Izuku smiled softly, more in his eyes and voice than his mouth.

Coddled by a child. Toshi placed the pill in his mouth and sipped water.  ...and what is wrong with feeling cared for? The Torino voice fell silent at that.

"You're still bleeding," Izuku half-whispered. "That's a lot of blood gone so far, are you sure you shouldn't be worried?"

Toshinori's face crinkled pleasantly.  "Kind of goes with the job," he confessed.  "I uh... can you ah..."  His ears blushed red now.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head. ...Keep going? Do something else? Oh dear, I should hurry... he's still bleeding, that's bad....

"I haven't really looked at my back.  Could you ah..." I need a new shirt. He pulled out more bandages and poured antiseptic on them.  "...check it for me while I get my arm here, please?"

"Yeah, I can." Izuku moved around to the back of the chair. "How did she get your back, anyway?"

"She was like that one blue character in your video games--the speedy hedgehog?  Mach?  ...anyway, she was moving kind of like that and I was shielding some bystanders."

Izuku blinked. "Ma--Sonic, but yeah." Didn't they have Sonic when you were a kid?? "--Oompf, yeah. That must have been really hard." Did you not get to play video games? ...Aaww, that's sad.... Right away, he noticed a large patch of blood staining a mostly-intact patch of shirt on Toshi's shoulder. "Okay yeah, there's definitely something there... I can't really get a look at it, though." He took a look at the rest of the ruined garment. "Your shirt is... pretty much done for, though..." He grimaced. "Do you think I should cut it instead of you taking it off?"

Toshi gave an embarrassed smile.  "Maybe.  I'm sure me trying to take it off would prove both futile and possibly pull some muscles I shouldn't be moving at the moment.  Ah, scissors are in the other drawer."

Izuku nodded (which Toshi couldn’t see) and moved to poke in the other drawer.

Toshi bit his lip.  The kid might have to dig some bits out, too.  That's asking a lot, even from someone as devoted as him.

Izuku pulled out the scissors, keeping them angled down and away from Toshi as he moved to the back of the chair again, then carefully and quickly snipping through the remnants of the bloodied shirt.

Toshi cringed and waited for the pull of shredded fabric from skin... completely unaware of the three inch piece of Quirk quill still embedded just below his shoulder blade, like some large splinter.

Izuku carefully snipped around it, leaving a small piece of fabric stuck with the quill in Toshi's back, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"How is it back there?"   A tiny snort of a giggle--oh no a pun ee hee!--quickly dissolved as he remembered he needed to remain professional. Also, laughing hurt. ...but it was a nice pun.  Maybe--does young Midoriya like puns?

"...nnh." Izuku let his head thunk onto the headrest of the chair. A muffled snort escaped.

Toshi heard the groan and began to apologize for the words...when he heard the snort.  Turning his head carefully, he looked to Izuku with faintly impish eyes.  "You caught that, huh?"

“I did.”

A smile was threatening to sneak out.  "....my apologies, I kinda like wordplay.  Must be a hero thing," he explained quickly.  "The quippy one liners and all.  Yeah!"

“I’ve noticed,” Izuku continued to snip, grinning. “And they’re all very funny...” he got stuck at the collar.

A warmth was flickering in Toshi's chest now, hopeful.  "Y-yeah?  ...oh hey, having trouble there?  ....wait, what is THAT?"  And he pointed the piece of fabric still lodged below his shoulderblade.

"...Ahm."

One eyebrow rose, the other scrunched down.  "Ahm?"

"That's a piece I couldn't get out. That, if her quills work like porcupine quills, I probably can't get out." His voice softened regretfully. "...All Might..."

Toshi's breath caught sharply in his throat, not at this new information but at the tone the boy used saying his name.  It sounded...concerned?  worried?  scared?

Izuku's voice was so low and small it was almost a whisper. "I don't... think I can do this properly. You've lost a lot of blood, n... I've never taken care of anything this serious before. Do you think...."

You IDIOT. The Torino voice was back. "Oh my boy, please forgive me.  I foolishly thought that I--" Admitting you screwed up? Toshi's gaze dropped.  "Let me call Recovery Girl.  Could you....could you stay with me?"

"Of course..." His hand curled carefully around an unhurt part of Toshi's arm. "I'm sorry. Believe me, I would have avoided her too if I could," he said with a small, lopsided smile.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Toshi replied firmly.  "If you are hurt like this--though I pray it won't happen often--please, please seek medical help as soon as possible."  He looked guiltily at his stained shirt tatters.  "I came here because I thought I could-- I mean, because her office is much farther than mine.  And people would have worried."  And discovered my secret.  "I don't want that."

"Yeah, I would. I don't think I could move much in the position you're in." He grimaced, finally managing to get through the shirt collar. "...Though to be fair, I think people would worry more if they saw you with infected old wounds... of course, I'm sure you didn't know how bad it was, given your surprise at... that." He gestured towards the quill, gently moving the shirt and discovering an entirely new form of panic. "...Ah."

"You keep making new noises that I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with," Toshi teased.  "What is ah?"

"Sorry. Uhm." Izuku looked a bit like a nervous frog, his voice squeaky. "I maaaaay have uhhmmmmm snippedatinybitofyourhairimsorry"

Toshi b l i n k e d.  Very.  S l o w l y. "HERE, EAT THIS!" "Ah," he replied in the same tone young Midoriya used, unsure how to respond to this new information amid all the rest.

"It's just a tiny bit, I promise! You can't even notice, it's just..." he gently brushed at the little snippings of Toshi's dandelion floof. "There's, ahm. Bits."

"Bits," Toshi squeaked. Did he shiver just now as the kid brushed the newly snipped bits?  Goosebumps speckled his arms and the warm feeling in his chest grew a bit more. I'm torn up, losing blood, getting a haircut while having a spine imbedded in me....and yet I'm ok with this.    ....??????

"You can't even tell, really... it's just-- I don't want it to get into the wounds... a-and of course it's your hair, I didn't mean to obviously but--"

Toshi snorted.  Then giggled.  The giggles became laughter.  And though it hurt, the laughter grew louder.

"aaAaAaaAA"

Toshi jumped at that, then winced in pain.  "Good or bad?" he gasped.

"--Huh? ...Oh. Sorry. I was just still freaking out that I cut your hair."

"Oh right!"  Toshi snorted again and then winced again.  "Doncha worry, my power doesn't leak out of my hair!  That was a one time thing."

"...Oh. That's good." Didn't even think of that....

Even so, Toshi tried to peek at the golden snippets.  "Oh right, I was calling Recovery Girl."

Izuku nodded. "I think it's safest, yes. I don't think I could pull that spine out without... well." He made a face. "Doing a lot of damage I'd rather not describe." He looked at the chair. And the floor. And his hands. "Also, you're bleeding Everywhere. And I'm not sure you can keep that up for long."

Toshi made a moue of distaste, glancing about the room.  "Hrhm.  True."  Is it bad that I'm super curious to see the spine?  How did I not even notice--wait.  ow.  OW.  Oh there it is.  O W.  frack. He held up one of his few unstained fingers to silence Izuku as he called the nurse's office.

Izuku nodded, placing the slightly sticky scissors on the desk. He watched Toshi make the call, wondering if there was anywhere he was supposed to be applying pressure until medical assistance got there.

((TBC))

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 19)

Chapter 19

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15, ch 16, ch 17, ch 18, ch 19

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,012

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France, human trafficking

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​ @fallenstar-7​​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

When Jimin finally awoke, he was met with a set of big blue eyes staring back at him. He gasped and tried to get away, but the action made his head ache something awful. He held his head in his hands and glanced up. There was a little boy sitting beside his bed staring at him…no. Not his bed. This wasn’t his bed. This was a dingy cot in the corner of a tiny cement room. The little boy was staring at him with wide eyes. He had ahead full of dark, unkempt hair. He was pale and shivering.

“What’s your name?” the boy asked.

“Jimin,” he said. He wanted to panic, but that probably wasn’t the best thing to do right now, for the sake of the child and for the sake of his still throbbing head. “What’s your name?”

“Caleb,” the boy said.

“Do you know where we are, Caleb?” Jimin asked. Caleb shook his head. It was then that he noticed the needle in his arm. The needle was connected to a tube, which ran up to a blood bag on an IV pole. His heart sank. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“That’s a bad word,” said Caleb.

“Sometimes, a situation calls for bad words,” said Jimin. Caleb smiled.

“Yeah, this situation is pretty fucking bad,” he said. Jimin’s eyes widened.

“Just don’t say that around your parents,” said Jimin. The smile fell from Caleb’s face.

“I don’t think I’m gonna see my parents again,” said Caleb.

“Why would you say that?” Jimin asked, carefully peeling the tape off holding the needle down.

“I’m not stupid,” Caleb said, picking at his sweater. “My mom told me that there’s people out there who kidnap kids and sell them. And that’s why I have to be careful with strangers. I saw a ton of people come in here and talk about prices, and they tasted my blood. It’s so creepy! I already had two roommates before you got here. Both of them got sold right away. I bet you’ll be next. The Dracula guys like pretty people who are adults more than they like kids I guess.”

“They don’t like kids?” Jimin asked.

“No,” said Caleb. “Well, they said that my blood is really good ‘cause it’s clean. But they said that kids are too much to deal with. I guess it’s a good thing.”

“Probably is,” said Jimin. He slowly pulled the needle from his arm and then reached for Caleb’s arm. Caleb let him do the same with his needle.

“They’ll get mad,” said Caleb.

“We’ll put them back in in a few hours,” said Jimin. “How often do they come in?”

“Not very often. Like, twice a day to give us food and put the needle in or take it out,” said Caleb.

“We just won’t let them take too much from us,” said Jimin. “Besides, my friends know where I am. They should be coming to rescue us soon.”

“That’s presumptuous,” said Caleb.

“That’s a big word,” said Jimin.

Caleb shrugged and said, “I learned it from a book. I like to read. Do you like reading?”

“I used to,” said Jimin. “Now I’m too busy to read. I go to college, so I have a lot of homework and dance practice.”

“You dance?” Caleb asked. “My big sister is in dance class too.”

“Oh yeah? How old is your sister?” Jimin asked.

“She’s twelve,” said Caleb. “I’m eight. I miss her, even though she’s a jerk sometimes.”

“I’m sure she misses you too,” said Jimin. “You’ll see her again. Hopefully soon.”

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

  “You actually showed up!” Makai shouted, standing up to greet them with open arms.

               Yoongi led the way into the room, Catalina and Jungkook following behind.

               “Yoongi is the best one for this role,” said Namjoon.

               “Why? You’re the leader,” said Catalina. “I feel like they’d expect you to be the one going in.”

               Yoongi chuckled and said, “Namjoon is too nervous. He can’t act his way out of a paper bag.”

               “I…well yeah,” Namjoon said, not trying to defend himself. “I can’t act. Or lie.”

               “So, to review,” said Jungkook. “We’re acting as Yoongi’s familiars. We’ll go in, buy Jimin, and then leave?”

               “Right,” said Namjoon. “Nothing else happens that day. We’ll execute the second part of our plan another time.”

               “I suppose I was curious,” said Yoongi, shaking Makai’s hand. Makai had that easy going smile on his face. It was disarming, Catalina needed to stay focused on hating the man.

               It was nerve wracking, being able to just walk into the facility like this. Catalina had never felt this kind of adrenaline before. She tried her best to stay calm and regulate her breathing though. Namjoon warned them that vampires can basically smell fear. They can hear when a human’s heart beats faster and smell when their blood rushes quicker.

               They were standing by the desk in the middle of the lounge-like space. This was the area Catalina and Jungkook saw when they snuck in.

               “Are you looking to buy today?” Makai asked. “Or were you just in the neighborhood?”

               “I’m not sure yet,” said Yoongi. “It depends on if you have anything I like.”

               “I’ve got quite the variety,” said Makai. “And all our products are very high quality. All very healthy and clean.”

               “That’s good to know,” said Yoongi. “Most of these kinds of organizations get their products off the streets, they’re usually riddled with drugs and diseases.”

               Catalina chose not to think about why Yoongi knew that.

               Makai chuckled and said, “I have to admit, we started our company like that. We’ve improved so much over the years though. Anyway, I can give you a tour. If you’d like, there’s a waiting room in the back where your familiars can stay.”

               “No thank you,” said Yoongi. “I’d rather they stay with me. I don’t trust you just yet.”

               “What’s not to trust about this face?” Makai asked, pouting a bit. He burst into laughter. “I’m totally joking. You have no reason to trust me, you barely know me! I hope we can be friends someday though. I like you, Yoongi.”

               With that, Makai led the way deeper into the facility. The first door he opened made Catalina’s heart drop. The woman inside was limp and pale, sitting up against the wall on a cot. Her hair was thin and her lips were blue.

               “We’ve had her for a while, so I would probably let you have her for a hundred if you’re interested,” said Makai. He closed the door and continued down the hall. He pointed at a room through a pair of archways and said, “That’s the recreation room. There’s snacks, if you guys want anything.”

               “Chocolate?” Yoongi asked.

               “Haha! Sure, let’s see,” said Makai. He went in and rummaged through the cupboards. Catalina hung back with Jungkook and took his hand. He squeezed her hand back, leaning in to whisper, “Are you okay?”

               Catalina nodded, even though she was starting to feel queasy. Yoongi came back to them with a mouthful of Dove chocolate, more in his hand.

               “Jungkook will have his phone in his shirt pocket, with the camera facing out. It’ll be recording the entire time,” said Namjoon. “This way, we can map out a basic floor plan.”

               Catalina glanced at the phone in Jungkook’s shirt pocket as they were led deeper into the facility. Makai continued showing them “products”, as he called them. There were so many. Catalina didn’t know how she’d be able to leave them all here today. She hated thinking about Jimin in this situation.

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

               Jimin tried his best to keep track of the days, but without any outside light source and an irregular sleeping schedule, time quickly began to blur together. He had no idea how much time had passed. He what he could though.

               He didn’t let the vampires take too much blood from him and Caleb, just enough so they wouldn’t notice a loss. He made sure he and Caleb ate everything they were given, to keep up their strength. Every few days, or so Jimin figured, they would have a break from being hooked up to the IV. During those days, they made sure to eat and move around as much as they could.

               But after a while, everything began catching up to them. They were slowly losing energy. Jimin hoped his friends would find him soon.

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

               Seeing these people, tired and limp, and hearing Makai list off prices like they were at a car dealership made Catalina feel sick. She knew this kind of thing went on, but to see it with her own eyes was something she would never forget. She had to keep reminding herself that they would come back for these people.

               “This one is a little feisty, but if you keep her drained, she should be fine,” said Makai, closing the door on another cell. “Did you see any you liked? Did you at least like the tour?”

               Catalina’s stomach dropped. That couldn’t have been the last one. Where was Jimin? Did someone already buy him? It hasn’t even been a week!

               Jungkook took her hand and squeezed hard.

               “Do you have anything else?” Yoongi asked. His bored façade was still going strong, or maybe it wasn’t a façade. Catalina couldn’t be sure. Did he even actually care about these humans? Either way, he was doing a good job on this mission.

               “I mean, we have other humans, but they’re not ready for purchase yet,” said Makai.

               “I want to see them,” said Yoongi.

               “Sure, were you looking for something in particular?” asked Makai.

               “Eh…not exactly. I suppose I’ll know when I see it,” said Yoongi.

               Makai pointed to him and said, “I totally understand. Ya know, it’s like buying clothes. Fashion trends change so fast and I never know what I want to buy for summer, or for winter or whatever. But when I see it, I know! Can you believe the early 2000’s are coming back? It just ended! Give it a break for a bit!”

               Makai laughed heartily as he rambled on, leading them to a different hallway. He opened a few doors and introduced a few people inside. These people looked a little less tired than the others. These ones still had a bit of color in their cheeks.

               The third door he opened was the one. Jimin stared back at them with wide eyes. The fear in his eyes melted away when he saw them. But there was another set of frightened eyes staring at them from over Jimin’s shoulder.

               A child sat behind him, clutching Jimin’s t-shirt.

               Yoongi faltered. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

               “Is this the one? Are you having your moment?” Makai asked.

               “How much for both?” Yoongi asked.

               “Oh…well, the kid isn’t for sale,” Makai said.

               “Ten thousand for the kid,” said Yoongi. “One thousand for the other guy.”

               Catalina watched with amusement as Jimin pouted, glaring at Yoongi.

               “Okay, so these guys aren’t really for sale right now,” said Makai. “So you’re gonna have to-“

               “Fifty thousand for both,” said Yoongi. Makai closed his mouth.

               “Ya know what, I like you Yoongi. So I’ll give them to you for fifty and a half,” said Makai.

               “Deal,” said Yoongi. They shook hands, Makai smiling wide.

               “I’m just warning you, this one’s squirrely,” Makai said, pointing to Jimin. “And the kid is too smart for his own good. So do with that what you will.”

               “I have these guys,” Yoongi said, gesturing to Jungkook and Catalina. “I’ll be fine.”

               “Right on, man!” Makai said, slapping Yoongi on the shoulder. “Let’s go to my office.”

               Makai’s office was beautiful; the first thing Catalina noticed was the zen garden in the corner, bamboo shoots rising from the center. The whole office was dim, with stylish, plush furniture filling the space. The sound of running water brought Catalina’s attention to the black stone mini water fountain on the desk at the center of the room.

               Makai went behind the desk and pulled out two forms.

               “Are you paying cash or bitcoin?” Makai asked.

               “What the hell is bitcoin?” Yoongi asked. Makai burst into laughter.

               “Cash it is, then,” he said once he finished laughing. “Just go ahead and sign these for me real quick. This one is a nondisclosure agreement. Don’t go posting about this on social media and definitely don’t tell the cops!”

               Makai laughed again, but Catalina didn’t find any of this funny. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

               “And this one is just an agreement stating that once the transaction is complete, the product is nonrefundable and fully your responsibility,” Makai said. Yoongi signed both forms, then pulled several stacks of cash out of his jacket pocket. Catalina and Jungkook’s eyes bulged. He was just carrying all that in his pocket?, Catalina thought with a start.

               Makai laughed and pointed at them. “Looks like your familiars are thinking the same thing I am. You’re gonna get robbed doing stuff like that, man! You’re stronger than the average guy, but vamps like cash too, ya know!”

               “I don’t go shopping very often,” Yoongi said, counting out the stacks of bills.

               “Clearly,” said Makai, double checking the cash, then storing it in one of the desk drawers. The two of them shook hands. “Do you want them delivered or do you want them right now?”

               “I’m parked outside,” said Yoongi. “I can take them now.”

               “Sounds good to me,” said Makai. “Just go ahead and wait outside, I’ll have someone bring them up.”

               “Don’t damage them,” said Yoongi. “I like my products pristine.”

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

               Jimin and the child clinging to him stayed silent as they got into the car, all the way until Jungkook parked the car in the lot of a Popeye’s just outside of town. Then they all piled out of the car and Catalina and Jungkook immediately tackled Jimin in a tight hug. Yoongi climbed out of the car slowly, then helped the child out of the back seat.

               “What’s your name kid?” Yoongi asked as Catalina and Jungkook fussed over Jimin.

               “Caleb,” he said in a quiet voice.

               “You’re safe now,” said Yoongi. “We’ll get you back to your parents.”

               Caleb’s eyes widened.

               The whole group of them went into the Popeye’s and ordered as much food as everyone wanted. Caleb squeezed into the booth with Jimin, the rest sitting on the other side.

               “These are my friends I was telling you about,” said Jimin.

               “Ooohhh,” Caleb said, eyeing all three of them as he munched on his fries.

               “Are you guys hurt at all? What was it like in there?” Jungkook asked.

               “I mean, it wasn’t even that bad,” said Jimin.

               “Yeah! It wasn’t even that bad!” said Caleb.

               “Okay, I mean, it sucked really bad, and it would have been worse if we got bought by someone else before you got there, but it worked out fine,” said Jimin.

               “Yeah, the situation was pretty fucking bad!” Caleb said, giggling and dunking his chicken strips into too much sauce.

               Catalina and Jungkook’s eyes widened. Jimin and Yoongi just laughed.

               “Don’t say that in front of your parents,” said Jimin, ruffling the kid’s hair.

               “I just can’t wait to see the look on Namjoon’s face when we bring a child home with us,” said Catalina. Yoongi groaned and put his head in his hands.

               “Yeah, I can’t wait either,” he said, sounding like he could, in fact, wait.

[princessjungeun]

09: Ryujin x Reader

Request: hiiii!! i’d love to see girlfriend ryujin helping you when you’re injured, like if her baby broke her ankle or something🥺 thank youuuu💘

CW: hospitals, sports injury.

This is kind of an AU but also kind of not...just go with it 😌

The shouts of fans echoed throughout the stadium. Looking around you saw men, women, and children wearing your jersey number: 09. Although you weren’t the captain of your team, you were the star player and MVP. Often people compared you to some of the best soccer players in the world, men and women. You didn’t feel you measured up to them at all but everyone says otherwise, especially because you were on the U-21 women’s soccer team.

The sun hung high in the sky, beaming down creating the occasional heat wave. The very few clouds in the sky provided absolutely no shade, almost making it feel hotter. The grass was still slightly soggy from last nights storm, but the heat had long dried up most wet spots.

As you sprinted down the pitch you spotted a teammate in your peripheral vision. She dribbled the ball as fast as she could, trying to get away from the opposing team’s players.

“HEEJIN!” You shouted your teammate’s name signaling that you were open. The girl looked up and kicked the ball to you just before she was tripped by an opposing defender.

The ball was now at your feet, the other team’s defense following close behind. Breaking out into yet another sprint you headed closer to the goal. You passed the ball to another teammate of yours that was closer to the goal. Running faster you signaled you were open once again.

You watched as your teammates passed the ball from person to person in attempt to get it to you. Smiling widely, you watched Somi pass to her older sister Aisha, who passed to Yuna. The young blonde shouted your name before kicking the call full force to you.

With a smack the ball hit you in the chest, making you wince. It rolled down your body and your feet caught it. You ran closer to the goal before kicking the ball, watching as it flew into the back of the net.

Fans screamed your name, holding up jerseys with your name and number on the back. Flashing a smile to the camera you brushed a few hairs from your face.

Your eyes scanned the field looking for the ball before landing on your co captain Yves. The slim girl made her way gracefully down the pitch, nobody close enough to her to steal the ball.

You called out to her so she knew you were open. With one quick pass the ball was under your foot, finding another teammate you passed the ball. Right as you kicked the ball to Lalisa you felt yourself slip and fall on a damp patch of grass.

As your body made contract with the ground you felt a pain sear through your leg. A high pitched scream ripped through the stadium making everyone go silent.

The announcers voice broke the silence “Who is that? Number 09 is on the ground. L/N Y/N has fallen. She looks like she is in a lot of pain, as she is not moving. A teammate is by her side...and now a medic is being sent her way. Everyone standby.”

Laying on the ground you covered your face with your arm. Immediately you felt someone’s hand make contact with your face.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” Heejin’s voice filled your ears, the only sound you could hear between your sobs.

A few medics ran onto the field asking the girls around you if they knew what happened. Heejin and Yves did their best to explain what they saw, but they didn’t exactly see how you fell.

A man asked you calmly “sweetheart does it feel like it’s the bone or a muscle? Is it both?” You could only nod, not knowing what you felt specifically, all you knew was that it hurt.

He once again asked “can you stand up?” You shook your head, letting out another sob.

The medics rolled you onto a stretcher before rolling you off the field. Heejin stood by you, walking with the medics. Your coach pulled her by the arm. “Heejin where do you think you’re going? We need you.” Pulling back she asked “can you sub Wonnie in? She hasn’t played today...trust me she can do it.” He gave in walking away calling to Wonyoung that she was to be subbed in.

Heejin asked you “is there anything I can do?” In a high pitched wheeze you let out “call R-Ryujin.”

You thought about your girlfriend hoping it would take away some of the pain. Remembering how she’d smile just by looking at you. The way the little dimples beneath her eyes would show up to complete the grin you put on her face.

Another wave of pain washed over you, erasing Ryujin from your thoughts completely. Feeling your mind go blank, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Only seeing black as your body fell limp, the voices around you were only distant echos.

You were in and out of consciousness for what seemed like only five minutes. All you remember was Heejin standing over you before a medic put a mask over your face. A warmth engulfed your body and you felt something wrap around your arms and torso.

Thinking it was your girlfriend holding you, not a blanket and straps of the gurney holding you, you smiled weakly. Whispering softly you mumbled “Ryu-Ryujinnie?”

The idea of her with you faded as a loud wind filled your ears. So loud it completely drowned out everything else around you.

The last thing you heard was a female medic tell you “ok sweetheart just relax, we’re air.....hospital. Seoul-........everything’s oka-.” The words got more and more sporadic as you weaved in and out of consciousness. Eventually your mind completely going blank as you imagined being in your girlfriend’s arms as she kissed all your pain away.

•

•

•

It had been two days since the accident and you were just waking up. Looking around the room everything was white. Not a welcoming white either, it looked like that of a futuristic prison. The thick glass windows looked out only to a bare night sky. The smell of sanitizer filled your nostrils, almost making you sneeze. This smell only belonging to one place. A hospital.

As you moved your hand to rub your eye you saw the IV stuck to your skin. You poked at it with your free hand, wincing when it stung. The oxygen tube up your nose did nothing but make you uncomfortable so your tried to pull it out.

Tugging at the plastic tube you realized a nurse had small pieces of medical tape on each of your cheeks, holding the tube in place. Whimpering softly you continued to pull at it until a nurse came in with a smile.

“Oh you’re awake!” Her smile was welcoming and warm, making you relax. She reached out for the tube and said “here let me, I’ll give you the mask instead hmm?” You nodded nervously wondering why she was so happy at this hour of night.

“Wha-what happened?” You asked, your voice hoarse from not drinking for two days. The woman responded as she walked around the room “you tore a few things...I already paged someone to come and explain everything to you in the morning. But for now you should get back to sleep okay?” You nodded as she took your vitals quickly before placing an oxygen mask over your face. Before leaving she told you “when you wake up press the red button above your head, it’ll tell me you’re awake ok?” Nodding once again you tried your best to smile with the mask over your face.

Catching a glimpse of her name tag you made sure to engrave the name in your head:

Bae Joohyun

•

•

•

When you woke up the next day it was definitely early morning. The golden sun pooled through the windows, illuminating the room from a bland white, to a beautiful gold.

You pressed the nurse button above your head as Joohyun instructed you to the night before.

Almost immediately Joohyun came into your room, the same bright smile on her face. You asked “can I speak with the doctor?” She told you “he is with another patient but i’ve already paged him...but in the mean time you have a visitor. She’s actually come everyday since your arrival and stayed until I had to kick her out. Would you like to see her?”

Knowing it was either Ryujin or Heejin you nodded enthusiastically.

Just as you suspected it was Ryujin. Your girlfriend immediately came to your side. She stayed silent just happy that you had finally woken up after so long.

Soon a doctor came in, the anxiousness growing as you awaited to find out what happened while you were asleep.

“Miss L/N Y/N yes?” He asked looking at a clipboard in his hands. He continued “so Joohyun told me you asked about what happened hmm?” You nodded, your gaze alone pressing him to continue.

He flipped through some papers as he talked:

“When you fell at your game, you expierenced what we call a tear in your ACL as well as your MCL. Those were both third degree tear, which means a complete tear. You also dislocated your knee and fractured a few bones around your knee. We preformed a surgery to fix the torn ligaments, however the fractures will have to heal on their own. You will start physical therapy in two weeks. Until then you will need to be in a wheelchair, absolutely no weight is to be put on your leg, by any means okay?”

Nodding slowly you tried to show you understood despite the fact that you still hadn’t fully comprehended what he told you. He asked a few questions like how you were feeling and if you were in pain. To which you told him you were ok and your pain medication hadn’t worn off just yet. He nodded and left you and Ryujin alone.

The second the door closed you pulled the mask off your face and let all the tears you held in out. Ryujin pouted before scooting the chair she was in closer to your bed.

“Awww baby don’t cry it’ll be ok.” Your girlfriend cooed as she wipes away a few of your tears.

“No I won’t...You heard what he said Ryu. I completely tore my ACL and MCL. I’m never gonna play again....” Swatting her hand away you explained what you thought this meant for you.

Ryujin kissed your cheek softly, her thumb grazing your face. She carefully placed the mask back on and said “it’ll all work out baby ok? Just trust me.”

•

•

•

When you finally got released from the hospital you were so relieved. Although you were only there for 5 days, two of which you weren’t conscious for, it felt like an eternity.

Before leaving Joohyun and a few other nurses taught you how to do basic tasks alone. Like using the bathroom and taking a shower, as well as dressing yourself. Despite their help, you still needed assistance with the last one.

Luckily Ryujin was done with Itzy’s Not Shy comeback so she had a long break ahead, as the other two JYP girl groups were promoting for the next few months.

•

•

•

“Baby come on...you have physical therapy today.” Ryujin gently shook you awake, a smile on her face. You groaned softly just wanting to sleep longer but you knew she would find away to get you up. Your girlfriend helped you get dressed before making sure you ate breakfast and took your meds.

You’d been doing physical therapy for a little while now but today was the first time you were going to try and walk.

Ryujin would sense your nerves as she drove to the hospital. Her hand found your thigh, rubbing your skin reassuringly.

Without taking her eyes off the road she told you “Don’t be worried okay? Everything will be fine. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”

•

•

•

“Ok Y/N we can start whenever you’re ready. I want you to start with your good leg then take the next step with your other.” Your physical therapist Ashley stood behind you, holding you up by the waist. Her assistant stood in front of you, Ryujin at the end of the parallel bars.

You took a small step with your good leg before lifting your other leg. It felt like your bad leg weighed 200 pounds, as if you were trying to pull a heavy weight 100 yards. Taking the small step you felt yourself move slightly forward.

“Okay good, can you get another one?” She gently coaxed. You tried your best to take another step, the assistant in front of you ready to catch you if you fell.

By the end of the appointment you had taken five steps which was far more than you thought you could do. The only thing pressing you on was seeing Ryujin’s smile as she watched you proudly.

•

•

•

It had been three weeks since you took your first steps post surgery. You had improved fairly quickly, so much so Ashley had given you home workouts to do with Ryujin.

“Come on baby it’s fine take your time.” Ryujin told you as you firmly gripped onto her forearms for support. Taking slow steps across the floor you focused on maintaining your balance.

Right as you took your third step you felt yourself falling. Ryujin caught you almost instantly, not giving you time to even hit the ground.

Holding yourself up on her body, arms wrapped around her neck, you let out a few sobs. She scooped you up into her arms and carried you to your bed. Placing you down she climbed on next to you, allowing you to slip into her lap. You sobbed into her chest, tears running down your face and onto her shirt.

“Baby...it’s okay why are you crying? You did so well today.” Your girlfriend rubbed small circles on your back while running her other hand through your hair.

You let everything out in one breath “I feel so pathetic. I can’t do anything on my own anymore. It’s like I’m a child Ryu. It’s not that hard to take ten steps but I can’t fucking do it. This is so stupid...”

Ryujin pulled away her features softened, wiping a few more tears from your face.

“Baby don’t say that. That’s not true. You have come a long way these past few weeks and I won’t let you take that away from yourself. You couldn’t even stand up let alone walk not too long ago. Even Ashley says you’re improving faster than most. You completely tore a ligament on the front and inside of your knee. Plus a few broken bones. It’s not going to happen overnight my love. It’ll take time, you just need to be patient. There’s nothing you can’t do. So dry those beautiful eyes and we can try again hmm?”

You sighed realizing she was right, it wouldn’t happen overnight. “Ugh okay...fine.”

Ryujin smiled kissing you gently on the lips “that’s my girl.”

•

•

•

It had been 18 months since you last were on the soccer field. Ashley had cleared you at 11 months but you were still afraid of getting hurt again. You trained with your teammates since the 11th month marker, but you just hadn’t played.

Today was your first game in 18 months and you were beyond nervous. Pacing around the locker room you chewed your lip nervously.

“Y/N relax, you’ll be ok. The grass is completely dry, you’ve trained for this over the past 7 months. Everyone here is going to watch out for you, and Wonnie is going to be subbed in the second you give the signal okay?” Heejin held you by the shoulders as she talked to you.

Yves waved all of you all into a huddle, “Okay everyone, it’s Y/N’s first day back. I want you all to watch out for her. Yuna and Wonyoungie, don’t get distracted. Eyes on the game only ok? Lalisa and Heejin, keep each other in check. No slacking this game. And Wonnie stay warm for when you get subbed in okay?”

Before walking out Yves pulled you aside “I know you’ll do great, you always have since we were kids. But please don’t push yourself too hard. Wonyoung can be subbed in anytime. Just give the signal and i’ll make it happen. I’m proud of you Y/N, you’ve come a long way.” She hugged you before linking arms with you and walking out into the open stadium.

•

•

•

Ten minutes into the game and you felt good as ever. You wished you hadn’t been scared and played earlier because it felt so gold to be back out in front of everyone. Fans cheered your name even when you were just standing around.

You signaled for Wonyoung to be subbed in just so you could get a bit of a break. As you sat on the sidelines you searched the stadium the best you could. Even though you knew Ryujin had to work today, you hoped she was still in the crowd watching you.

For the second half you got subbed back in, taking Wonyoung’s place on the field. Eyes on the ball you ran around the pitch to find an open spot.

Yuna dribbled the ball halfways down the pitch before passing it off to Heejin. From there it was kicked to Lalisa who quickly passed to Aisha. The tall girl looked around frantically as she ran, panic settling on her face when she saw nobody from her team near her. The three defenders on her back weren’t helping her either. You called out “Aisha!” She kicked the ball to you, sighing of relief that she wasn’t going to lose the ball to the other team.

The crowd chanted your name as you made your way to the goal. Adrenaline coursing through your veins you ran faster than you ever had before. With all the force in your body, you kicked the ball towards the goal. The goalie missed catching it by at least a meter, as it whizzed past her and into the back of the net.

You realized you had scored the winning goal on your first game back. All of your teammates came to crowd around you. The fans in the stands roared, cheering your name and number. The announcer’s voice rang from above:

“L/N Y/N has scored the winning goal! Her first game since she suffered major knee injuries 18 months ago. She has shown us today that she is back and better than ever, congratulations to our star, 09!”

Smiling brightly as your teammates hugged you, showing you nothing but love, you thought it couldn’t get any better.

Heejin elbowed you lightly before pointing to the sidelines. Covering your eyes from the sun you squinted, breaking into a spring when you saw a familiar face.

Jumping onto her and wrapping your legs around her waist, you tucked your head into your girlfriend’s neck.

“I thought you were working today!” You hopped off of her, hugging her again. She held you tight before saying “I couldn’t miss my baby girl’s first day back.” You pulled her in for a kiss and asked “so...what’d you think from the audience perspective?”

Ryujin smiled, her eye dimples showing through “you looked amazing baby. I’m so proud of you. See I told you there’s nothing you can’t do.”

[stanbillyhargrove]

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 16: Please Don't Make Me Beg You To Stay

Tw: eating disorders, purging, drugs

Steve’s POV

The party raged around me, bodies moving all around me and music pounding so loud I could feel it in my chest, replacing the beat of my heart. Nancy has been acting weird lately, distant and cold, and she’d decided not to come to this party, leaving me to drink with my friends. We were having a pretty good time, getting drunk and joking around for a while.

But it didn't feel right.

I wandered away to the makeshift bar near the kitchen. I was mixing myself a drink when a girl walked up behind me and ran a hand over my shoulder. I turned around to meet her drunken gaze.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” she slurred.

I tried to turn her down, tell her I had a girlfriend, but the girl just kept babbling.

I tuned out her constant talking when I saw Cat stumble into the other side of the kitchen, holding her head as she slumped against the counter. I didn’t think anything of it when a guy I’d never seen before followed her, just someone she met checking on her I thought. When she slumped to the floor I watched the new guy join a couple other guys, all of them sneering to each other. They were like a pack of wolves, snapping their teeth as they watched their prey fall. A couple people paused to talk to her but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

I knew I should go to her but I didn't, just threw back my drink and turned to find another.

“She’ll be out any second,” a voice behind me sneered.

The pack loomed, staying far enough away from their leader to not startle the prey. Cat was starting to fade against the counter, struggling to keep her eyes open. When he hoisted her over his shoulder and started upstairs with her hanging limp, dread settled heavy in my gut. I quickly scanned for a head of blonde curls but didn’t see Billy anywhere near me.

Cause he hadn't been there.

I tried to walk away from the girl but was grabbed by the arm as she started to cry. I watched them all disappear upstairs and felt my mouth go dry. I desperately hoped for Billy to appear but knew he wouldn’t. It took a while for me to shake off the drunk girl to run up the stairs after them. When I worked up the courage to open the door my blood ran cold, like ice. The leader was on top of Cat, sliding her pants down her thighs. The pack loomed, salivating over their catch.

I announced my presence with a meager, “leave her alone.”

They turned on me, ready to devour me too.

“Hey man, private party,” the leader growled.

“She doesn’t want this, leave her alone,” I tried again.

One of the pack lept forward to shove me, “why don’t you fuck off? You don’t know what she wants.”

I bristled, squaring up to challenge them, “I know that she can’t walk or tell you what she wants when she’s passed out.”

The leader slid off Cat and met my challenge, offered a worse one, “we’ll let you join if you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

I gaped at him, “are you fucking serious? No! Get the hell out of here, you fucking assholes!”

He glared at me and reluctantly backed down.

“Whatever man,” he spat, “you can fucking have her.”

He shouldered past me, his crew all taking a turn to shove me as they followed him out of the room. The interaction left me feeling dirty, like they had left a mark on me that I would spend the next few days scrubbing at. I crossed the room to the bed and grabbed Cat’s shoulders to shake her. She didn’t respond, her entire body was limp in my hands.

Too much to drink, I thought.

I gently wiggled her pants back up her hipbones, over the scars and scabs that littered them. Scooped her up and carried her back downstairs, past the leering pack and out to my car to bring her back to my house to sleep it off.

I woke up with Cat curled into my side. When I looked over at her and saw her sunken, frail frame, I realized that I had been dreaming. Dreaming about what I wished had happened that night instead of what actually happened. A weight settled over me. A weight dragging me down into an endless ocean.

An ocean of should of's and could of's.

Of guilt.

Because it's my fault.

If I hadn’t been so caught up in myself I could have done something, I could have stopped her from being drugged in the first place. I should have tried harder to keep an eye on her. I failed Cat when she needed me most and I was failing her now as she got sicker and sicker.

I dont know what to do anymore, how to help, how to quit being a failure.

--

I woke again later in the morning to Cat rummaging loudly through a box just outside my bedroom door. I could just barely see her, sitting in the doorway pulling on strings of lights.

"Cat?"

She scrambled up, "oh! You’re awake! Did I wake you up? I was trying to be quiet."

"What are you doing?"

She smiled, holding up a string of lights, "I found some lights, I thought we could hang them up over the bed. It'll be cute."

I nodded, slightly confused, "yeah..okay, I can do that..where did you find those?"

"I made breakfast too! Get up so we can go shopping!"

"Shopping?"

"Yeah," she skipped and jumped to sit on the edge of the bed, "remember? For the dance?"

I nodded, sitting up, "right. Yeah, okay."

--

"I've never been in the city," Cat beamed, looking at all the stores lining the street.

I pulled to the side of the road, in front of a little boutique. Large windows boasted racks full of dresses and suits.

"Can we get coffee, Stevie?" Cat asked, pointing at the little Cafe across the street.

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

"Yeah, before you got up."

For a second, I could look at her smiling and let myself believe her.

She was running across the road before I could answer. Didn't look for cars, just dashed out.

"Cat!" I yelled.

"Come on, slow poke!" She yelled back, laughing from the sidewalk.

--

"Young Mr. Harrington," a woman beamed when we walked into the boutique, "how's your father? I haven't seen him in a while."

I smiled tightly, "he's fine, Tam. Busy."

"Good, good," she nodded, coming around the counter, "what can I help you with?"

Cat linked her arm in mine, "looking for a dress. And Steve here needs a new shirt."

"Will this be on your father's account?"

"No, I have money," Cat protested.

"Put it on his account. I need my jacket tailored too," I held up the jacket in my other arm.

Cat spun to me, "Stevie, I can-"

I shook my head, "really, it's okay. He doesn't care. Probably won't even notice. Lead the way, Tam."

Tammy nodded, leading us through the racks. Rows upon rows of billowing tulle and shining sequins. Soft silks and delicate lace.

Cat loaded her arms with as many dresses as she could carry and eagerly followed Tammy to a changing room.

Tammy pulled the curtain closed and came over to me, "another brunette, you certainly have a type."

I scrunched my eyebrows, confused, "huh?"

"I like this one, she's pretty. Much nicer than that last one I saw you with. What was her name again? Nina? Natasha?"

"Nancy," I answered, dryly.

"Nancy! Yeah, she didn't seem like a very nice girl. Not right for you."

I was about to protest when Cat called from the change room, "zip me, please?"

Tammy hurried behind the curtain and Cat walked out a moment later in a bright red dress. Tulle poofing up from her shoulders and layering down the skirt. It engulfed and swallowed Cat like flames.

"What do you think?" Tammy asked, smoothing her hands over the offending fabric.

"It's...something," I murmured, trying to control my expression.

Cat turned and burst out laughed looking at herself in the mirror, "oh no, this is terrible," she clapped a hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry! It's just not good on me!"

Tammy smiled gently, "don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not the designer. Let's try a different one."

An hour later we were on our way home, a new shirt, dress and shoes wrapped in boxes in the backseat.

-- a week later

"You sure you don't want to come pick up my jacket with me?" I asked.

Cat smiled and shook her head, "I'm okay, I'll spend some time with Rocky. Maybe go home for some stuff."

"Okay, I'll be back in a couple hours."

--

I came back to find a quiet house and a half eaten chocolate cake in the kitchen.

"Cat?" I called, tossing my suit jacket over a chair.

A fork with smeared remnants of icing gleamed next to the paper box.

A distant, painful retch perked my ears. I followed it through the house. Through the shadows of my parents unlit room. Following the thin strip of yellow light coming from under their bathroom door.

"Cat?"

Another retch and a sobbed, "fuck!"

I pushed the door open, "are you sick?"

She was kneeling in front of the toilet, one arm bent to brace herself and choking on the middle two fingers of her other hand.

I froze for a moment, "what the?"

"It won't come out," she cried, "it's stuck."

Her fingers were raw and irritated from being pushed down her throat.

"It won't come out, I can feel it."

She was shaking, fingers trembling against pink, slick lips. Tears sprung to my eyes, disappointed, angry and confused. My mouth opened and closed, lost for words. She pushed her fingers forward, gagging when nails scratched the back of her throat.

"Don't," I whispered.

She hesitated, "I can feel it, I need it out. I didn't mean to...I was so good."

Broken eyes met mine. Shameful before they scrunched closed and she dry heaved into the toilet. I shut my eyes tight, turning away from the door and leaving my parents room.

--

I hadn't moved from my spot near the pool. Just sat staring into the crystal blue water. The way it lapped lightly at my ankles. The way the stars reflected on the surface and danced when a stray tear fell.

The patio door slid open and shut behind me. Soft feet padding out onto the stone. I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

"Stevie," she rasped.

A new round of tears burned like acid.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I..I don't..."

I whirled around to face her, splashing water when I hurried to stand. Her eyes hardened when she flinched.

"What the fuck was that!" I yelled, "how could you do that to me! You were fine yesterday, what the hell happened?!"

"N-nothing."

"Nothing?" I scoffed.

"Yeah, nothing," she ground out, chin wavering even with her teeth clenched.

The lying stung almost worse than the truth.

"How can you stand there and lie to me?!"

She looked away, lips tightening.

"It's like you're trying to fuck this up."

Cat stood quiet, swallowing thickly.

"Is that it? You want to be sick? You want to push everyone away so you can pretend nobody cares and try to kill yourself again?"

Her eyebrows twitched, angry. Nostrils flared while she searched for the words to hurt me.

"I don't love you."

I was taken aback. Confused and hurt.

"I don't love you, Steve. And we're not in a fucking relationship," she spat venom, closing off, "I know you think you're my knight in shining armor but you can't save me."

"Fuck you," I growled.

"Your parents left, Nancy left. Nobody stays. Do you ever think maybe it's your fault?"

Yes.

All the time.

I hold people too close until they suffocate and leave.

I scoffed, sharp words falling from my lips before I could think, "tell me again where your parents are? You pushed Billy away. I'm the only one you have left. You need me."

"I don't need you. I never needed you!"

"Then leave!" I shouted, "my life would be a lot fucking easier!"

Hurt flashed behind her eyes before she turned and stomped away.

--

Tommy’s POV

Booze flowed, bottles passed and plastic cups emptied. Cigarettes and joints created a blue haze above us all. Flashing lights and thumping music disoriented the senses further.

Sweat dripped down foreheads, mixing into the sticky floor.

White powder covered a table in the middle of the room. Dusted noses.

Glimpses of familiar faces made it through the haze. Carol laughing, wild and free. Dancing out of sight. That girl I saw with Steve, Billy's girl. Cat? Chugging from a clear bottle. Leaning over the table.

"Tommy!" Carol yelled, snapping me back to reality.

I was in the backyard, lying face up in the grass. I smiled lazily up at her.

"You look beautiful," I mumbled.

Pink bloomed in her cheeks, "Tommy, you've been gone for hours. What happened?"

I laughed, "hours? Wow.."

"Tommy," she snapped, "get it together. We have a problem."

--

“Hall?” Billy grumbled over the phone.

“What?

He huffed loudly, “keep an eye on her until someone gets her?”

I sighed, “yeah, sure, okay.”

I hung up and looked back at Carol, "he can't get her."

"Fuck, try...try Steve maybe? I'm gunna try to talk to her."

--

I led Steve through the house to the bathroom upstairs, furthest from the noise.

"Carol pulled her away from a bunch of creeps, brought her up here to calm down a little."

Carol leaned against the bathroom door, knocking loudly.

"Carol? What's going on?"

"She flipped. Pushed me out and locked the door."

Steve sighed, "thanks, guys. I'll take care of her."

@charmed-asylum

[httpbread]

I love your writing so much! Ahhh I’m new to the fandom and binged everything, but anyway ANGST TIME! Kindly requesting Hanako comforting reader who’s crying their eyes out and needs some tender love and care

Pairing: Hanako x reader

Words: 1743

thank you!! sorry it’s been taking me so long to work through requests ;; i will get to them! just been dealing with a bit of writer’s block and my own folly

---

When Hanako enters the third-floor girl’s bathroom after an errand he expected the same old boring quiet bathroom.

He expected the sunshine shining brightly through the window, staining the room too many colors to even put into words. The stalls empty. The room filled with peace and cheap smelling febreeze, just the way he left it.

He was not expecting the sound of the sink running, or (Y/n) hovering over it, looking up as he held the door open, their face a rosy mess of tears, snot, and despair, letting out a harsh hiccup.

Silence found them, Hanako unable to even speak and (Y/n) looking too choked up to.

He’d never seen them cry before, and he sure as hell had never seen them look like they’d had three breakdowns in a row.

“(Y/n)...? Are you okay?” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He’s not sure how to deal with this.

(Y/n) was always so bright and smiley. Seeing them so... emotional, all of the sudden... it was jarring. 

Not to mention his lack of experience with tears.

“Y-Yeah,” they sniffle harshly, reaching forward and twisting the sink off. They then turn to him, plastering a big smile on their lips, “Never better!”

Their words greatly contrast with the way their big (e/c) puffy eyes water.

He frowns at this.

“(Y/n)...”

Only to watch as their lower lip trembles.

Before they’re promptly ducking down, burying their face in a tangle of their thrown up arms, making Hanako jolt straight as a board when they wail, the raw distraught in their voice shaking him right up, “No! I’m not okay!”

He hastily moves forward, their panic infecting him, “Hey! Hey! Easy!”

He lifts his hands, despite his nervousness, reaching for them, though not quite sure what he’s going to do. All he knows is he wants them to stop crying!

“No! Not easy!” They blubber, hunching over a little more, like they’re trying to disappear, “I’m going to fail! I’m never going to college! A-and then- this class- I-“

“Slow down!” He pleads, relenting to set his hands on their shoulders, “(Y/n), you’re freaking out-“

“Of course I am!” They untangle from their arms, brushing off his hands to look up at him, face full of wide-eyed woebegone, “My life is falling apart, Hanako- a-and I don’t know what to do- and-“

Silence fills the bathroom.

In Hanako’s defense, he didn’t know how else to get them to stop talking.

“One step at a time, (Y/n),” he tells them, keeping his voice gentle, “I don’t know what’s got you all riled up, but let’s shove all that aside right now, okay?”

Their tears are seeping down onto his hand, the one he has over their mouth, which they hum into miserably.

“Focus, (Y/n),” he mumbles, promptly removing his hand, “Just work on calming down right now. The world can wait.”

But as they go to protest- and he knows they are, judging by the frantic look that finds their eyes- he only pulls them to his chest, burying their messy face in his uniform.

They let out a muffled whimper, cursing him, but Hanako only holds them tighter, praying it’ll help somehow.

“Nuh-uh,” he chides lightly, to hide his unsureness, “You’re not getting out of this hug until you stop crying.”

He blinks, running his fingers through their (h/l) (h/c) locks.

There are definitely more pressing worries, but he can’t help but gawk at how soft their hair is.

Indulging, he continues to stroke his fingers through their silky strands, keeping his other arm wrapped firmly around them.

Their arms hung limp at their side, as they leaned reluctantly into him, now burying their face into his chest by choice.

He smiles a little.

Even when they were so wound up, they were such a cute little thing.

Hanako isn’t sure how long they stand there, him squeezing them tight in his arms, but eventually, they lift their head.

“I’m not crying anymore...”

“Really?” He comments, hoping a tease would get them out of their rough, “You look like a mess.”

Their lower lip trembles.

“W-Wait! No! It’s a good look!” He hastily amends.

But they’re shoving him away, “You’re a jerk, Hanako-kun.”

He’s moving right back with them, though, lifting a hand to cup their cheek.

“Maybe, but you’re still burning up...” he mumbles, brows drawing as he moves his hand to their forehead, “Come on.”

He makes his way back over the sink they’d been at when he first walked in, turning the tap on.

“I- uhm. I think I might just...” he hears them sigh as he gathers a handful of paper towels, pulling them out one by one to wad them in a big ball, “I want to go home...”

It wasn’t like them to skip class like this. It only served to worry Hanako further.

“Ah, well, life isn’t fair,” he covers up his concern with a sing-song tone, “Now, take a seat, (Y/n).”

“Huh?” Their brows knit, looking up at him.

He gestures to the sink next to the one he had running, “Sit.”

They scratch their head.

He amends, “I’m not asking.”

This makes them let out another heavy sigh.

“You’re so mean...” they grumble, making their way over, “Why couldn’t I have run into Ne-chan instead?”

“What? You don’t think I make a handsome caregiver?” He smirks, wetting the wad of paper towels under the running sink as they do as asked.

“No. I think you’re a jerk,” they argue, voice still a little scratchy, “You suck at this.”

At their petulance, he promptly shoved the icy paper towel wad against their forehead.

They squeak, immediately pressing back against the mirror behind them, away from his help.

“Case in point!” They declare with a big frown.

Hanako only snickers, dropping a hand on the sink they sit on as he leans forward over them, reaching their face with ease, “Just relax, won’t you?”

This time, he very gently pressed the wet wad of towels against their face.

It scrunches their nose up for only a second, but as he slowly brushed it across their burning forehead, their lashes sink down against their cheeks.

He swallows his nerves, trailing the paper towel ball down their left temple to run it over their cheek.

As he runs the wad across the bride of their cheek to their nose, over to the other side of their face, they let out a soft breath, only slightly shaky.

“Does that feel better?” He mumbles to them, delicately brushing their other cheek with the cold water too.

They swallow before responding quietly, “Yeah...”

He runs it up to their right temple before back across their forehead, which he delighted to find has cooled significantly.

As he goes to ask if that was good enough, they speak.

“I bombed the chapter test in math.”

He pulls the makeshift rag away to blink at them.

They look up at him, and he swears it’s like looking at a kicked puppy, the way their sad (e/c) eyes shine at him.

“I got a thirty-three on it, Hanako-kun,” they tell him, lower lip pouting, “A thirty-three.”

“The one we studied for...?” He utters.

They nod, looking down.

“W-Well... we studied for the wrong one...”

He tries to repress the smile that threatens his lips. He couldn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny to (Y/n) right now. They were too troubled to laugh.

“I’m sorry, (N/n)-chan, but it’s going to be okay,” he sets the wad of wet paper towels down on the other as he reassures them, “One test isn’t the end of the world, y’know?”

“But what if it is?” They whisper hastily, “It’s the butterfly effect, Hanako! I failed this test, I’ll fail math class next, and then I’ll drop out, and-“

“- and all of that is the biggest lie I’ve heard all week,” he takes his place back before them, drawing their smaller hands into his own.

They look down at him, still miserable as can be.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, (Y/n),” he offers her a soft smile, “You’re always giving your best to everything you do. You’re trying so much.”

“Yeah, and I failed,” they remind him, brows pulling together.

“But you tried,” he counters, “That’s all that matters.”

“No, it’s not,” they argue, trying to pull their hands away to, most definitely, gesture at him exasperatedly, “Hanako, I’m going to fail math. There are so many other things that matter!”

He only squeezes their hands, holding them snugger, “Even if you do fail math, it’ll be okay. You’ll brush all this off in no time!”

They stare at him like he’s grown three heads.

He leans forward, nearly brushing noses with them as he smiles.

“C’mon. Lighten up,” he pleads, “I promise you this stupid math class won’t last forever. You’ll be done with it before you can blink.”

He then adds, trying to wrangle a smile out of them, “You’ll be able to forget all these dumb equations in just a couple months. They’ll never hurt you again.”

Hanako’s hands slip out of theirs, bringing them up to cup their face in his as he closes his eyes, pulling their forehead against his.

They don’t respond, but he feels them lean back against them.

Before their arms slowly snake around his neck, pulling him a little closer.

He can’t help his smile.

“You really think so...?”

He blinks his eyes back open to meet their pleading eyes.

Hanako warmly brushes his thumb across their cheek.

“I know so.”

He then tells them firmly.

“Because we’re going to crush your next test!” He declares, pulling away to throw his fists in the air, “Even if I have to get that rotten Teru himself to come mentor you!”

(Y/n) looks up at him owlishly at his words.

Before...

A small grin cracks, breaking out across their lovely lips.

“I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Hanako smirks, sticking his tongue out at them.

“Well, we’ll make sure you at least get higher than a thirty-three this time.”

Instantly, their face lights up with offense.

“Hanako-kun!”

But getting whacked upside the head is more than worth it though, listening to the return of their ever-bright laughter filling the restroom again, easily melting away all his concerns and his heart in the process.

[angstyaches]

Come Back to Me Pt.2

Come Back to Me Pt.1

All of my OCs? At this time of day, is this part of a public park with one wielding a Ouija board, one possessed by a demon, and one unconscious on the ground?... May I see it? 

I’ll shut up now.

CW: fainting, hunger/disordered eating mention, panic

Swallow the World: The Ouija Board, Pt. 4

“No, don’t!” Charlie gasped, throwing out his hand. 

He swallowed and closed his fingers into a fist in panic, realising he’d been about to use his telekinesis to push away the guy Shayne had been calling Elliott. He wasn’t even sure how that would work, and thinking about it was making his stomach feel queasy. 

“Just – please don’t touch him,” he said. 

Elliott scoffed. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Charlie said. “It’ll panic him even more.”

Elliott blinked slowly, like Charlie’s words were giving him a migraine. “You’re already touching him. He’s basically in your lap.”

“Yeah, but he knows – he knows it’s me. I think.” Charlie squeezed Shayne’s hand, despite it being limp now. Please, please know it’s just me.

“Look, I know he hates my guts, but we’re family. Kind of.” Elliott looked down at Shayne and motioned upwards with his hands. “We should be getting his legs up, so the blood can go back to his head –”

“No, no, please, just give us a minute.” Charlie’s voice was shaking with tears that were threatening to choke him. “Can – can you go get Rin? The girl talking to your friend. I think he’s worried about her, so if she comes back, maybe –”

“Right. Alright,” Elliott nodded before heading in the direction of the table where they’d seen Rin.

Shayne had stopped shaking as soon as he’d fallen unconscious, but that had been when Charlie had started. He still wasn’t really sure what had happened; he’d barely scraped together enough mental and physical strength to ease Shayne down to the ground and hold him there, still clutching the hands he’d been forced to hold as Shayne put himself between Charlie and what he’d perceived as danger.

“What the hell’s going on, huh?” Charlie whispered gently, easing Shayne’s head back against his chest as it started to roll back.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Rin gasped as she ran up and dropped to her knees next to Charlie.

“I don’t know, I – I don’t know. He fainted on me. Have you got any water? Shit, Rin,” Charlie said, his voice getting louder, his thoughts growing more panicked now that there was someone to voice them to. “I knew he’d been skipping lunch at school, and I assumed he was eating at home, but –”

“Hey,” Rin said, pulling out her water bottle and quickly patting Charlie’s arm. “Calm down, okay? This isn’t your fault. Here, hold onto his head. Let’s lay him down properly.”

Shayne made a soft whimpering sound and tried lifting his head as they moved him. Charlie shifted across the grass, setting Shayne’s head in his lap. Rin lowered her face so she could examine his, and she frowned when his eyelids fluttered open and shut again.

“Hey, babe,” she said, laying a hand on his cheek. “Everything’s alright, see? We’re all fine.”

“You – you can’t…” Shayne’s head began to roll forward off Charlie’s knee.

“Hey, stay with us, okay?” Charlie pleaded, holding him a little more firmly in place. “We need to know what’s going on with you.”

“Nothing,” Shayne managed to say. “I-I’m fine.”

“Babe, you’re after fainting,” Rin snapped, unscrewing the cap from her water bottle. She held it to Shayne’s mouth, not letting go even when he half-heartedly put a hand up to the bottle. She clicked her tongue as he took weak sips. “You’re a wreck. We should’ve left you at home.”

Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but instead glanced over to see Elliott talking with the hooded figure who’d been sitting with Rin. They were standing about twenty feet away, and the hooded guy smiled tightly when he caught Charlie’s eye. He took a step forward, despite Elliott trying to put out a hand to hold him back.

“Hey, how’s he doing?” the boy asked in a soft voice. He knocked back his hood to reveal bright mint hair that he’d tied in two little bunches. Hugged to his chest was a long, flat package wrapped in brown paper.

Charlie blinked at a sudden sharp stab of pain behind his left eye, similar to the pain he got when threatened with a warding jar. The demon, Charlie Two, was clearly unhappy with whatever was in that package, and Charlie One knew exactly what it was.

He felt Shayne tilt his head and look up.

“Charlie, don’t – don’t touch that thing, it’s –”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Charlie whispered, never taking his eyes off the seller. He curled his fingers into Shayne’s hair, making sure he wasn’t exerting himself.

“If it’s his blood sugar, I’ve got something that might help -”

“No, Fee,” Elliott scolded, snatching away whatever was in the mint-haired boy’s other hand. Charlie hadn’t been paying it any attention. “You can’t give those to humans.”

“He’s not all human, you said.”

“Well, he’s not a vampire either, boo.” Elliott reached for the seller’s hand and drew him a few feet back across the grass.

Charlie looked at Rin. “Did he just say –?”

Rin nodded, widening her eyes and mimicking opening her mouth to reveal fangs.

Charlie blew out a breath from between his lips and leaned forward to get a look at Shayne’s face. His eyes were still fluttering open and shut weakly, like he was trying to stay awake but just couldn’t.

“No wonder you were worried about us,” Charlie said. He looked at Rin again. “He was saying something about these guys knowing Madelyn, or – or Madelyn knowing something about us. About me, maybe. He wasn’t very coherent.”

The way Shayne suddenly closed his fingers around Charlie’s told him that he’d heard him, and that he was right about what had paused him to panic. Charlie was certain his heart was pounding against his ribs, so close to Shayne’s head, but he tried not to think about that, and focused on gently squeezing his hand back.

“Well, Felix, with the hair,” Rin was explaining, “he said it’s the Aldridge vampires that are watching us, and he seems to feel really bad about it. Does any of that mean something to you, Shayne?”

Shayne let out a shaky breath, moving his hand away from Charlie’s and pressing it into the grass instead. He carefully started to push himself upright, glancing gratefully at Rin as she supported his shoulder. 

Charlie hadn’t realised his legs had started to go numb; as Shayne had fainted into his arms, Charlie had knelt, trapping his ankles beneath both of their weight. He unfolded his legs in front of himself, draping his arms over his knees. 

“They’re a different clan, but I bet Madelyn’s still – still…” Shayne looked like he was slumping forward, but Charlie could see he was just trying to get his bearings while his body still felt so heavy. “Fuck. Sorry. I feel weird.”

“Aw – hey, we know,” Rin assured him.

Charlie nodded, trying not to look too horrified at the deathly colour in Shayne’s face. He didn’t have to look at it for too long, because Shayne turned again so that he could rest his forehead against Charlie’s shoulder.

“Been trying to – to keep your house safe,” he mumbled. “Too many demons, Charlie, so many. Fuck, I – I can’t – I’m trying –”

Charlie’s head tingled, and he looked over his shoulder just before Felix cleared his throat next to them. Elliott was hanging back and rubbing at his forehead. Charlie felt a bit nauseous, and couldn’t take his eyes off the wrapped Ouija board.

You don’t like that thing either, huh? No, we don’t.

“We, um, we’d like to offer you a lift back home, or wherever?”

Felix glanced between Charlie and Rin, offering a nervous smile. Now that he knew to look for them, Charlie could just about make out two short fangs.

“Elliott will be the one driving,” Felix said. “I’ll be the one apologising profusely to everyone present, so there’s that to look forward to.”

Charlie swallowed thickly as he glanced at Elliott and noticed the impatient glance that he was throwing Felix’s way. He had never seen Shayne as panicked as he’d been before fainting, and family or not, it had all started when Elliott appeared. That wasn’t something that could be so easily shaken off.

He looked down at Shayne, who hadn’t moved his forehead from Charlie’s shoulder. Taking the lift seemed much more desirable than trying to get him home on the train, Charlie reckoned, as Shayne let out a small sigh.

“Charlie, my stomach hurts,” he said, almost inaudibly.

Charlie’s breath caught in his throat.

No shit, your stomach hurts, he thought a second later. You think maybe it’s from digesting demons, and starving yourself, passing out, and not talking to me about –

He felt like he might black out himself, or else burst into tears. You tried to tell me, didn’t you?

“It’s okay.” Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, putting his hand on top of Shayne’s as his fingers curled weakly into the grass. “We’re gonna get you home. Then you can tell me everything.”

[wardenrainwall]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Original Female Character(s), Cullen Rutherford Additional Tags: Smut, Pining Summary:

A tryst that was meant to be inconsequential, a pleasurable escape for both parties ends up turning into far more than either bargained for.

--

 Cullen stared down at the paper in front of him, a frown on his face as he read Ellana’s recount of the dragon she and her companions had taken on in the Hinterlands. Along with destroying a red lyrium deposit.  He worried for her, but her companions were strong, as was she, which was what had attracted him to her from the start.

 The moment he’d seen Ellana leap onto the back of a demon, arrow knocked, and save the lives of more than just a few soldiers that day on the battlefield, Cullen had been smitten. She was beautiful, yes, but it was also the way she’d so easily stepped into the role of leadership, how she navigated disputes with such grace that neither party felt slighted.

 It only stung his pride a bit, or at least, that is what he told himself, that Ellana made it no secret of who she took to her bed, and that he was not one of them. Even in that, no one seemed to mind that they only held her attention for so long. A giggling young woman at the tavern who had sighed wistfully recounting the week she’d spent in the Inquisitor’s favor. The Iron Bull, whose lap Ellana would perch on every now and then before the two would disappear together.

 And perhaps he was a fool for holding out hope that one day she might look at him and see how good they could be together.

 The side door opened and he barely glanced up from his work. Clara hesitated in the doorway for a beat, which he thought strange. She never hesitated. Even the day she walked through a door he’d known he’d locked when he’d been so restless in his own skin. She’d simply glanced over, seen him sprawled in his chair, fisting his cock, and continued over to the ladder up to his quarters. “Are you expecting a hand with that?” she’d asked, then disappeared up into the loft.

 But now she hesitated before she began to cross the room. Cullen kept his head down, though his attention was now fully focused on her. She was limping. Not terribly, but there was a definite unevenness in her gait.

 “You’re limping,” he murmured.

 “It’s nothing,” her tone held a sharp bite. Then she stopped at the base of the ladder, hands reaching up to grip the rungs she simply stood there. “Why can’t you sleep in a normal room like a normal person?” Her snapped out words had him blinking at her in surprise.

They spoke little to each other, though she came to him several times a week and had for just over the last two months. Often the only words murmured were her pleasantly wishing him good night before leaving. “What’s wrong?” he asked, getting to his feet. Clara shook her head, and as he closed in on her, she put one foot up on the bottom rung and winced. 

Then he saw it, the faint bruise on her cheek, her lip swollen and split. A slow-simmering anger began to build. “Who hit you?” he demanded, reaching out to grasp her chin between thumb and forefinger, angling her head to allow him a better look in the low candlelight.

“No one hit- ow!” Clara slapped his hand away when his thumb grazed just below the cut. “I said it’s nothing,” she bit out, glaring at him.

“Then why does it look like someone punched you in the face, and how do you explain away the limping?”

Hands on her hips she let out a huff of air. “It’s fine. It’s none of your business.” 

A part of Cullen felt amused seeing this spark of anger, seeing who this quiet woman actually was. But then he had the sinking feeling of dread. Did she have a husband? One who beat her when she came to him because she believed she had no other choice? “Clara, if someone hit you-”

She made a quiet sound of frustration and reached up, yanking the kerchief from her hair to then run her fingers through the short locks. “No one hit me,” she told him, shaking her head. “I fell. Because I’m a stupid, clumsy idiot.” Clara took a step and he saw the pain cross her face again.

“Why haven’t you seen a healer,” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest because it was obvious that she hadn’t. 

“I said it’s fine,” she sighed, waving her hand. “It’ll be fine in a day or two-” She reached down, absently rubbing a hand against her left hip. “It isn’t a big deal, I’ll just-” Clara cast a glance up the ladder.

“The bedding will keep,” he said because it was ridiculous how often she changed the sheets as her excuse for being there. He was certain the servants thought him an ass demanding they be changed nearly every other day when half the time he felt he’d barely even slept in his bed. “Tell me what happened, and why you refuse to see a healer.” Cullen nudged her toward the desk and she opened her mouth snapped it shut and took the limping steps to the side of the desk.

Her hand going to the grip the edge made him feel like the worst kind of bastard. Did she really think he planned to bend her over and fuck her when she was so obviously in pain? He continued to his chair, sat down, and then reached out, his fingers curling in the fabric of her skirt and tugged. “Over here,” he said and he saw the look of confusion as he pulled her closer, then gripping her waist he lifted her onto the edge of his desk in front of him.

“Oh, what are you- your papers-” her hands fluttered and she moved her legs as if to jump back down, but Cullen held her there, pulling his chair closer to block her escape.

“Do you have a problem with mages?” he asked curious. It wasn’t unusual, he still sometimes found himself hesitant to seek them out for injuries.

Her hands still fluttered slightly, as if unsure what to do with them. “What? Oh, no, that isn’t-” Clara shook her head, her hair swaying with the movement. “I don’t mind the mages.”

“Then why, if someone didn’t do this to you, haven’t you gone to a healer.” 

Clara’s hands finally settled into her lap and she let out a quiet sigh. “It’s the magic,” she told him. “Have you ever had them heal something?” he inclined his head. “When I was six I fell out of a tree, broke my arm. My parents, they-” she sunk her teeth into her lower lip, seemed to hesitate. “There was an apostate in the next village, my parents took me and he set the bone and put his hands over my arm, to heal it, but, it made my skin crawl. It didn’t hurt, but, it was worse than the break.

My father’s a dwarf, they think that might be why I reacted that way,” she gave a shrug. “Allergic to magic,” she let out a quiet laugh. “That’s why I didn’t go to the healers, it’s fine, really.” 

“May I?” Cullen asked, his fingers sliding down to dip under the hem of her skirt.

“Commander,” she breathed, shaking her head. “It’s fine, you don’t need to bother yourself-” His fingers grazed up her calf, felt the thick woolen stockings then up to her knee. Cullen realized as he glanced up at Clara, her cheeks pink, lips parted, that in the weeks of their arrangement, he’d never seen her naked. Her bare rump before he sank into her. But beyond that, they made quick work of getting each other off.

Maker’s breath, he hoped he was getting her off. He felt a wash of mortification at the thought. But she wouldn’t keep returning, if she didn’t enjoy it, unless- “You know that you do not have to come here, to me, like this,” he said suddenly, his hand resting against her knee beneath her skirts. “Clara, your job is not dependant on allowing me to-” he felt his cheeks burn hot.

A smile curved the corner of her mouth. “I know that, Commander,” she murmured. “It’s something to enjoy while it lasts.” One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I’m no love-struck foolish girl, Commander. I’ve seen the way you look at her,” he flinched in surprise at her words, but she still gave him that little smile. “It’s alright. I know my place.”

Her words left an odd sensation in his chest and Cullen frowned as he lowered his head to his task of once more pushing her skirts up. “Maker’s breath, Clara,” he gasped out. A dark bruise ran from knee to hip on her left leg, and he thought it was a wonder she could even walk. “What in the void happened?”

“I fell,” she said, her cheeks a darker shade of red now. “I told you, I was stupid. Three of the other woman in the laundry room are out with some stomach thing and so I picked up some of the slack. Have you been to the laundry room?” she asked and he shook his head, before reaching for one of the drawers where he began to rummage around. “The stairs are very steep. I should have made two trips, but I didn’t. My shoe caught on my skirt, and-” she made the soft frustrated sound again. “And I fell. Slammed my leg against the stairs and I smacked my face on the basket as it spilled.” 

Finding the little ceramic pot he’d been searching for he set it on the desk and looked up at her. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck from the sound of it.” She huffed, arms crossing over her middle. Removing the lid from the jar he glanced up at her, found her watching him. “It isn’t magic, just a salve that helps with minor bruises and aches. This one isn’t minor, but hopefully, it’ll help-” he hesitated. “If you don’t mind?” 

“Alright,” Clara spoke softly and Cullen dipped his fingers into the jar and tried to be gentle as he spread it over the bruise and rubbed it in. Her skin was warm beneath his palm and he silently cursed his growing erection. 

“Your mother isn’t a dwarf?” he asked, going back to their earlier conversation, anything to distract him.

“Human,” Clara told him, shifting slightly, he saw her reaching down, tugging the various papers that he’d set her on free, and stack them into a neat pile. “They are disgustingly in love, even after all these years,” her tone held amusement and joy.

“Are they safe?” Cullen asked, the salve long since absorbed into her skin, but he continued to stroke her thigh.

Clara nodded. “They are, a lot of the violence has bypassed their little village, but mom has kept them well-stocked in swords and armor.” 

This had Cullen looking up in surprise. “Your mother has?”

“She’s a blacksmith.” Cullen’s brows shot up and Clara let out a quiet, delighted little laugh. “My father prefers gardening, but he does help out in the forge from time to time, but it’s my mother’s pride and joy.” 

“She’d be an asset to the Inquisition,” he said.

Clara’s face fell, all traces of amusement vanishing with the shake of her head. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I was in Haven when we were attacked, I saw-” her eyes went liquid and Cullen regretted his words. He’d meant them in jest.

“Clara,” he said shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I understand, I didn’t truly mean it.” He got to his feet, dipped a fingertip into the jar once more, and with her jaw cupped in one hand, he applied it to the bruise on her cheek. She was quiet as he worked, and when he was satisfied, he continued to stand there, between her legs, fingertips gently tracing the curve of her cheek. 

“Did you want-” her eyes darted to the side, to the spot where he most often rucked up her skirts. 

Of course, he wanted her, wanted to bury himself in her wet heat and lose himself for those few moments. But he knew her leg still pained her, despite what she might claim otherwise. He wasn’t the most experienced in sex, a handful of fumbling experiences in Kinloch Hold, before, before everything. He didn’t think Clara was so inexperienced, so obviously he was doing something right. “Yes,” he said, but held her in place when she would have slid off the desk. “But stay where you are.” She did, watching him, her brows drawing together as he sunk down into his chair.

He dragged it closer, then reached out, hands on her hips, and tugged her to the edge of his desk, her legs on either side of him, her skirts still gathered at her knees. Cullen swallowed hard. There was an intimacy to what he was planning on doing, one that he’d thought to reserve for- his cheeks burned. Clara had taken his cock in her mouth, let him come on her tongue, the least he could do was replay the favor, right?

“Commander, what are you-” her breath hitched as he lowered his head to kiss the inside of her knee. 

“I think you can call me Cullen, at this point,” he murmured, pushing her skirts up a bit higher, he pressed a kiss to the other knee.

“That would be,” a quiet gasp when he rubbed his stubbled jaw against her skin. “Improper.” 

Cullen couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him as he slid one hand behind her knee, tugging it over and over his shoulder. “Improper?” he asked, licked up the inside of her thigh. The heady scent of her desire hit his nostrils and he nearly groaned. Why had he not considered doing this before?

[offtopicoverload]

26 :Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave. For Marisol x Mc please x

Thanks so much for the prompt, I hope it’s okay! <3

~2k words

Marisol sits on the living room sofa, textbooks and papers thrown around her haphazardly as she races through an assignment. It’s a rainy Thursday night, water droplets beating the window across from her incessantly. She’s the only one home so far, an odd occurrence, to say the least. Violet almost always beats her home, her last class of the day wrapping up nearly two hours before Marisol’s own.

Marisol seems oblivious to this fact, though, her attention fully on a paper that isn’t due until the Friday after next. She flicks through a textbook, searching for a definition she needs before giving up and grabbing another to search, huffing as she does.

The front door flies open, a drenched Violet stepping inside with a scowl aimed at the back of Marisol’s head. Her socks squelch in her ankle boots, her jacket drips water on the floor, and strands of her dark, wet hair are plastered to her face. Her very, very angry face.

“Hey, vida,” Marisol greets without looking, still scanning for that damned definition.

Violet's answer is cold, as chilly as the dark Portsmouth night outside the living room window: “No.”

Marisol’s brow furrows at the answer, but her eyes stay trained on the pages in her lap, “Huh?”

Violet doesn’t respond, her soaked boots stomping into the bedroom, leaving a trail of footprints behind. Marisol shrugs it off, however. Violet would clean it up, she’s more neurotic about mess than Marisol herself.

The flat’s relatively quiet for a while, Marisol finding her definition and getting through a few paragraphs without having to scavenge more. She’s not too bothered over whatever’s going on with Violet, even if the interaction was far from normal. It’ll blow over, whatever it was, it always does.

Violet stomps in from the bedroom, her boots still firmly laced on her feet. “No shoes in the flat,” Marisol calls in the tone reserved for her older brother or their friends. Alright, now she’s a little bothered. Violet never leaves her shoes on, she’s the whole reason for the rule’s existence.

Marisol finally turns, finding Violet’s back to her now as she walks to the kitchen. She’s still wearing her soaked clothes, her hair tied back now, and has a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She leans down to rummage through a kitchen drawer, clattering noisily as she does.

When she finds whatever she was looking for, she stands, turning in Marisol’s direction but avoiding her eye, and reaches across the counter for her keys, the ones Marisol dropped off when she got home. Violet pockets them, her features remaining contorted as she adjusts the strap on her shoulder.

“What’s the bag for?” Marisol ponders aloud, finally drawing Violet’s gaze, nearly recoiling at the fire held within it.

Violet’s jaw clenches, her entire face tight with anger as she spits her answer, “To carry my stuff.”

Now Marisol’s extremely bothered, and, quite frankly, confused. “Why do you need it? Are you going somewhere? Do you need me to come with?”

“No,” Violet answers again, stiff and harsh. “I’m going. You’re staying.”

“Where are you going?”

Violet’s eyes drop from Marisol’s as she steels herself, gripping the countertop, “Northampton, with my tía.” She clears her throat, forcing her shoulders straighter as she stares down at the counter before her, “Because I need to think about us.” The words are softer than the others, her anger slipping away and only leaving behind hurt. Violet pushes off the counter and walks back to the front door hurriedly.

Marisol’s jaw is on the floor as she watches her rush to leave her behind. Then she scrambles to her feet, running across the room and nearly face-planting in the fuzzy socks she slipped on with her sweats, “What? Why? What the hell’s going on?!” she shouts panickedly, eyes wild as she slides to a stop in front of Violet, blocking the door.

Violet still avoids her eye, crossing her arms and staring at the hardwood under their feet. She digs the toe of one of her boots into the floor, “You forgot about me. Again.” Her voice is soft, hurting, and Marisol’s heart cracks in her chest.

“What are you talking about?” She reaches out warily, taking hold of Violet’s nervously fidgeting hands and squeezing tight. “What do you mean I forgot you?”

“You forgot to pick me up. For the third time, and I had to walk home in the pouring rain,” Violet’s voice is stronger now, more confident in her words. “I called you eight times and texted you a hundred more. I waited for almost an hour at Stella’s, until I gave up because I was so embarrassed.”

Marisol’s staring into space, slowly processing the first sentence that left Violet’s mouth, let alone the last. Then, “Shit!” she whispers, eyes clamping shut. She was supposed to pick Violet up. Violet had a study group that ended at seven, over an hour and a half ago. And of course, she didn’t even have her car because she let Marisol borrow it to get lunch with her mother while hers is in the shop. Shit, shit, shit.

“Vi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to forget. I just got busy, I swear,” Marisol meets her gaze imploringly, hoping it’s enough to stop whatever’s happening in front of her.

Violet shakes her head, forcing herself to remain resilient, “You always say that. But you still forget. You forgot me a month ago, you forgot me a week before that, and you never do anything I ask because you always forget or get busy. I’m getting sick of it,” she lets out a harsh exhale before attempting to wrangle her composure into place, “What were you even busy with? I was only a few minutes away.”

Marisol glances at the textbooks and laptop still spread out on the sofa, “I’ve been working on a paper all afternoon, I’m so sorry.”

“When’s it due?” Violet asks the question, even as she knows the answer won’t help anything.

Marisol bites her lip, eyes falling from Violet’s and their joined hands dropping, Violet’s limp in her own. “Two weeks…” she whispers, ashamed and guilty.

Violet takes a deep breath, her frustration suddenly boiling inside of her, “Two weeks? You have two weeks for that and not ten minutes for me?” she nearly yells the question, angry and hurt.

“I know, but I didn’t mean to, Vi, I swear,” she’s desperate now. She knows she messed up - again - but this isn’t that big of a deal, right?

Violet finally pulls her hands from Marisol’s grasp, jamming them in her jacket pockets, “I know you didn’t mean to, but sometimes you need to actually mean things for me. You can’t just -” she huffs, a hand slipping from her pocket to rake through her hair, “You can’t just breeze through this relationship! You have to care, you have to remember, you have to try, but you never do!” She steps back from Marisol, adjusting her bag’s strap again and trying to move past her.

Marisol’s hand reaches out on its own accord, gripping the damp sleeve of Violet’s soaked jacket. Her throat feels tight, and she can feel tears prickling behind her eyes, because she knows she does care. She cares about Violet’s work and her passions and her family more than anything.

And she does remember, at least the really important things. She remembers Violet’s smile and to set an alarm for sunrise, and which brand of tea Violet likes best. And she really does try, she always tries her hardest, no matter what. She tries to make dinner when Violet’s tired even though she’s clueless without her, she tries to make Violet laugh whenever she’s down and even when she’s not, she tries to get all of her schoolwork done as soon as possible to leave time for movie nights and the chores Violet hates.

She cares, and she remembers, and she tries, she just sometimes messes up. She can work on that, she can fix those mistakes, she has all her life. This doesn’t have to be the end of everything, or a big deal. It doesn’t have to be anything more than a mistake that Marisol can fix - that she will fix.

She’ll fix it so she never has to see that anger on Violet’s face, or upset in her voice, or frustration in her stance. She doesn’t like those emotions on Violet; she likes happiness and smiles and laughter on Violet, she even likes blushing and stuttering on Violet.

Violet’s jaw is set, her features tight as she stares down at Marisol’s blank expression, a thousand thoughts flitting through each of their minds. Whatever’s in Marisol’s head, Violet knows she’s done. She’s done with feeling like she’s the only one working for this relationship, she’s done with giving up so much of her life for Marisol and not getting anything in return, she’s done with walking three kilometres in the rain at eight o’clock at night.

She doesn’t want to be done, she doesn’t want to walk out, but she also doesn’t want to keep feeling like this, like she’s not worth it, like school and Marisol’s future are more important than her. She doesn’t like it, she never has, and she can’t put up with it anymore.

“I love you,” Marisol whispers the words before she even realises her lips are moving and her voice is coming out, fragile and raw. Her eyes go wide when she realises what she said, and even wider when she realises she means it, she means it more than anything. She looks up, “I love you. So much. Please… don’t leave. I’ll fix it. I’ll remember. I’ll write it on my hand or something, I swear.”

Violet meets her gaze, dark eyes watery and pleading as she stares into Violet’s. She grips her sleeve tighter, silently urging her words to take hold, Violet’s resolve starting to waver at the hand gripping her and the eyes gazing into her own, the hand slipping in hers crumbling her determination beyond repair. Marisol squeezes her hand, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Violet sighs, dropping the duffel bag from her shoulder to grip it in her free hand, “At least keep your phone on you from now on.” She starts to turn away before pausing, “And next time I walk home in the rain… I’m walking to the train station,” she warns.

“Yeah. Okay... Deal. That’s fair. Yeah... Yeah,” Marisol lets go of her hand and watches Violet walk back into the bedroom, dragging her bag behind her. “Yeah,” Marisol murmurs in disbelief one last time, the last few minutes finally catching up to her.

She turns to the kitchen, stepping up to the oven and flicking on the stovetop. She pulls open the fridge and stares into it, her mind still whirling as she tries to decide on what to cook.

Violet steps out from the bedroom after a few minutes, dressed in a dry hoodie and leggings. She walks up behind Marisol and starts grabbing ingredients over her shoulder, setting them on the counter and pulling out cookware, too.

She drops some tomatoes in a strainer and turns on the sink tap, washing them in silence. She dumps them on a cutting board after drying them briefly, turning around and opening a drawer to pull out a knife. She starts dicing the tomatoes, Marisol finally closing the fridge door and stepping back into the kitchen as she does. “I love you, too.”

Marisol only nods, wary of sending Violet out the door for good this time, even as her eyes stay on the chopping board, her feet stuck to the floor as the knife rhythmically hits the wooden board. Marisol grabs the onions off the opposite counter, peeling them for Violet to cut. They finish cooking, Violet doing most of the work, and eat in relative silence.

Marisol doesn’t return to her paper that night, tidying her textbooks as Violet washes the dishes. They scroll Netflix when they finish their respective tasks, eventually settling on their usual show. They go through the motions the next few days, less words being exchanged between them than normal, but they’re both still there, at least.

The next time Violet needs a ride home, Marisol’s there a half hour early, drumming the steering wheel and smiling wide as Violet slips in the passenger seat. Her sleeve slides down her arm when she turns that too-sharp corner a block from their building, leaving ‘pick up Vi’ visible on her right wrist, written in thick red ink, a filled-in heart dotting the ‘i’.

She forgets Violet once or twice again when she gets too wrapped up in her work, but at the very least, she has her phone on her. At the very least, she gets there eventually. At the very least, Violet doesn’t walk home in the rain again.

[ofmythsandmadness]

i need a favour - three.

PART THREE - it was an extreme circumstance! what was i supposed to do, let you decapitate your brother with a butter knife?! or, dinners at the hargreeves house is always fun - but the added element of yours and diegos fake relationship? a party like never before.

WORD COUNT: 5500 or so. (oops. sorry) PREVIOUS PART(s): part one, part two.

A/N - I forgot about this, for a hot moment. Whoops. If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask and let me know. As well, if I missed you, just shoot a heads up. 

NONE OF THIS WAS NECESSARILY ‘NEW’.

She had gone to the Hargreeves before, loads of times. Whether it was to babysit Klaus, or pick one of them up, or even attend one of their infamous family dinners, because for some reason they all seemed to like her. She probably knew the place inside and out, aside from the basement area - but no one really talked about that part. She was comfortable with all of them, even Luther, no matter how many stupid fights they had all gotten into. Often leading to her playing Diego’s hype man and saying the shit he could not say (and then feeling horribly guilty later, often finding some way to make up for it, because she was far from the hardened badass she played out to be). And, honestly?

She loved them all. They felt like a second family and despite everything they had been through, she continued to feel that way.

So, the fact that she actually felt nervous to the point of nauseous, attending the monthly get-together, was really saying something.

Y/N smoothed down the front of her dress and adjusted her stance in the mirror. She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look poised, put-together, like she had her shit together even if she was just about to shit her pants thinking about it. If she was going to pull this off and help Diego out, she could not appear nervous. At all. It had to be a normal thing. A comfortable thing. A sort of thing where she would smile and not immediately vomit from her raging anxiety whenever he did so much as refer to her as his ‘girlfriend’. Even if at that moment, for some reason that totally freaked her out.

“Come on, Y/N,” she muttered to herself, twisting her fingers to the point where the joints ached. “Get yourself together. You can do this.”

But, could she do this?

She loved the Hargreeves and had known them long enough to know them; their quirks, personalities, all the little things they did to get out of a situation, and their lying faces. She could read even Allison like an open book - which meant they could all do the same to her. There was probably no way to get anything past them, unless she truly devoted herself to the task. She had to let go of her insecurities and the worry of them finding out (and that strange little knot in her stomach that only pushed when she thought about Diego, now) and just focus on her role.

It was just dinner - Diego never liked to stay long anywhere, anyways. 

She jumped at the screech of the window, followed closely by his voice calling her name. She sighed, forcing back the edge of panic and let her calmer facade come on.

“Y/N?”

“In here.”

Y/N slumped to her bed, leaning back to wait for him to stumble in. When he did, she forced a smirk. “Look at you, looking like a respectable member of society.”

He rolled his eyes, as always expected, body slumped against the frame of her door. His eyes lingered on her face, a softer look melting away the normal stress wrinkles he wore so openly. “Could say the same for you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Diego nodded and held an arm out in offering, one she took eagerly as help for her heels. “You look good, Y/L/N.”

It was a simple compliment. And also, one she had gotten before. A thrown aside, often mutual, that did not mean much. But for some reason, her cheeks flushed pink and she had to fidget with her shoes a moment longer, eager to lose the blush before standing up again. She could barely bite out a ‘thanks’ in a normal tone - and it was that, that solidified her nerves even more.

Unfortunately, he read right through her mask. “What’s wrong? You nervous?”

“Nervous? What-no-I-” she stopped spluttering and sighed, giving up entirely. Her smile fell and was replaced with a watery grimace. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a bit,” he grinned back. His hand remained on her arm, steadying her, even if she was good and standing already. “But s’fine. I’m not excited for this, either.”

She gasped dramatically. “Whoa, the great Diego Hargreeves, nervous? My word, my, my isn’t this something! Why, if I never!”

“I didn’t say I was nervous, and I didn’t tease you for being so scared, either.”

“I’m not scared, jackass.”

“S’that why your face is redder than a tomato?”

Immediately, Y/N ducked her head and shoved him away. “Shut up,” she grumbled. “Let’s just go before I lose my will and just send your siblings a picture of our divorce papers.”

He chuckled. “Divorce papers? Didn’t realise I even popped the question.”

“Oh, you did, and I regret it every day of my life.” She dropped the sarcastic veil for a moment to mumble a ‘thank you’ for him holding the door, only to snap back right after. “It’ll be hard to split up the children, but...we’ll make it work.”

“Kids? Shit, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah, babe.” Y/N whirled around to grin through her queasiness, rubbing her belly exaggeratedly. “Twins.”

“I knew you were hiding somethin’ from me!”

Their laughter floated down the apartment hallway and out the lobby doors, light-hearted and teasing of the other - even while the both of them struggled with their own inwardly doubts. Insecurities and nervous thoughts neither dared to admit, though they threatened to surface with every passing moment. 

Both knew the dinner was going to be more than a walk in the park. Even if they dared not breathe that worry out loud to the other.

||

“RULE NUMBER ONE.”

“Elbows off the table?”

“Y/N-”

“Chew with my mouth closed?”

“Y/N!”

“Riiight, stick to the story no matter what,” she groaned, though she wore a smile and not a grimace. Her hand twisted in his, squeezing for just a second before falling limp. “C’mon, Diego. We’ve been over this, and over this...and over this.”

Not even a hint of a smile. She sighed. “I know what I’m doing, you know what you’re doing, and we’re gonna knock this dead. Maybe even be out before eleven.”

His face still did not change, however, despite her teasing and smiles. It was composed in a stony blank stare, the sort that was a cover for any feelings underneath. She knew it well, as it was often the coverup during any sibling fights the seven got into - which happened quite a lot. She had to coax a smile out of him, sometimes a task harder than easier. But it was weird, knowing that this time, they were both walking into that delicate situation and she could not just giggle her way into a grin from him.

“It���ll be okay. I know the steps and I know your siblings. I know all the ways to get under their skins - like, if Allison gets too curious, I’ll just call up that shitty sketch show she did when she was getting started? I think I’ve memorized just about - what are you looking at?”

Diego had paused, causing Y/N to draw to a stop too, just before the door. He was staring forward, jaw slack, strangely just past her - or even at her, she really could not tell. He seemed almost frozen, until she waved her hand and repeated the question.

“Nothin,” he said, voice gruffer than before. He coughed and drew forward, hand tighter in hers. “Just - you’re always a fucking surprise.”

And before she could ask just what that meant, they were standing in front of the door, and said door was swinging open, leaving her to awkwardly smile and accept the cheery Allison Hargreeve’s invitation to come inside.

“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted first, wrapping the girl up in a tight hug before moving onto her brother. “Don’t you two look nice, wow!”

She fought an eye-roll at the comment and bit back any snide remarks, no matter how good they were. “Thanks, but I mean, c’mon - you look great. California’s really suiting you.”

Allison had been filming her latest flick, a star-studded thriller and had been away for just about seven months. And it was true, what she said; her skin glowed and the smile on her face did not look so fixed, rather genuine, actually. Things sometimes could get tense and often the woman’s face reflected the sticky state of her relationship with certain siblings, but it was clear that was not the case yet, tonight.

“Thanks, but let’s not focus on me,” she cooed back. Her hands wrapped around Y/N’s, then Diego’s, tugging with a wide grin. “You two! Holy crap -- I mean, it was something we all hoped would happen, but -- it happened!”

“Ha - yeah, that’s...it happened.”

“You two are so perfect for each other, seriously. I’m just happy my brother finally got a grip and asked you out!”

Y/N shot Diego a sharp look, pointedly raising her brows at the woman, as if to ask what to do with that sentence. Of course, he made his own point to ignore her completely. Asshole, she glared.

“Let’s head in, yeah?” She said, eager to cut Allison off before the evening could start. There was no way she was going to lose this battle before even making it to the living room. “Where’s Grace and everyone?”

“Oh, everyone but Luther’s here now, and Grace’s in the kitchen - she’s excited to see you both, though, too.” 

 Okay, so there were two things that would somewhat balance out, at least. Luther and Diego would fight, without fail, just as they always did, but Grace was always a healing voice in his life, she’d hopefully keep him a bit calm. If he could be calm; it really felt like she was holding the arm of a ticking time bomb rather than a fake boyfriend. Just to be honest.

“Remember,” he gritted to her, lips brushing near her ear, “don’t mention anything.”

“Anything? At all?”

“You know what I mean.”

She drew past him and away from his arms, puckering her lips into a fake kiss as she followed his sister in. Diego followed close behind, but they both separated - him being tugged away by a seemingly desperate looking Klaus, her eyes immediately meeting with Vanya.

“Hey, Vanya,” she greeted, moving into a gentle embrace. It only lasted a moment, however, Y/N pulling away so she could study her friend’s face a bit closer.

It was obvious the trauma of past months still stuck with her, as it would anyone; worry lines and dark circles left gentle stains on the girl’s face, aging that seemed to happen so quickly. She still looked so tired, like sleep had escaped her for aeons and she had no clue how to earn it all back. But, Y/N mused, she did look better than before. Her smile was not so forced and she seemed to carry herself a bit more confidently - no more as scared to be in the Hargreeves hellhole of a mansion.

“How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, a bit stronger that time. “Yeah, I’m good. Busy, with work n’all that, but busy’s...good,” Vanya finished, weakly shrugging. “Sorry. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense. I get it - keeps you going, keeps your mind occupied.” She sank into the sofa, comfortably close enough to Vanya while maintaining some distance. She did try her best remember the woman was still working through things and liked to keep some boundaries. “How’s all that then, with the orchestra? I can’t wait to see it, soon.”

She grinned at that, properly. “Don’t know, but hopefully...hopefully, things work out. But I - we don’t have to just talk about me.”

“Oh, no, I like to hear about this! It’s been too long, I feel like I’m missing out on your life.”

“I know but I mean, c’mon.” Her hand reached out to pat her knee, a gentle touch so rare for her. “I think - I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say here. Maybe congratulations?”

Y/N smiled gently. Her eyes flitted over to Diego, watching him talk for a brief second before turning her attention back to Vanya. “Uh, thanks...yeah, it’s definitely - it’s big. I don’t think even we were expecting it. But here we are.” Inwardly, she winced at her fumbling words. And the award for best actress goes to...

“How did you two...happen?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, shrugging back her nerves and fought for frozen composure. Her hands shook ever so slightly in her lap. “Oh, you know. It’s honestly not that great of a story, sort of blase.”

“Was he the one to ask you out?” There was an uncharacteristic sparkle in the woman’s eyes as she leant a bit closer, “I would never think he’d have the guts to actually do it.”

Y/N forced a laugh. “Well, I mean - somewhat, yeah. It was more of a mutual thing?”

Vanya frowned, raising a brow in question.

“He was just...over, it was late, and while I was cleaning up his wounds for the umpteenth time. We just got to talking about it somehow.” She looked back down to her lap. “We, uh, both decided to just throw logic out the window and give it a try, considering that everyone already thought we were together anyways. And, uh, here we are. Ha. Right?”

She probably had to work on that delivery, but Vanya at least took it all without a single question. Her smile grew and in a rare moment of affection, her arms clasped around Y/N tight. “I’m so happy for you,” she mumbled, drawing back almost as quickly as she moved in. “You two seem right together. Sorta always have.”

“Yeah...yeah, he’s great. Once you get past his grumpy exterior, he’s really quite the sweetheart.” Their eyes caught across the room, and without meaning to, Y/N smiled. Her head ducked away before she could lose her train of thought, leaving her to completely miss his shy grin back. “It just feels natural, y’know?”

Vanya nodded sagely. “I know what you mean. We all thought you two would have gotten together - everyone’s been saying it for years, but I don’t know if any of us thought it would actually happen.”

“Honestly? I didn’t think it’d happen either. But I’m...glad it did.”

“Good. M’glad you two have each other. You’ve always made him so happy, Y/N.”

She wanted to call Vanya out on that statement, ask just what that meant - but could she, really? Or was she supposed to take all the mysterious statements like that in hand and smile like she knew exactly what they meant? It was not like she could easily bring it up to Diego himself, without both of them feeling incredibly awkward. She guessed it was just supposed to chalk up to the same feelings the siblings had for Diego and her in general, the desire to get them together from the very start.

She just smiled the remark off. “It’s all still new, we’re just seein’ where this goes.”

“Right, of course.”

“Hey, darling,” a voice said from behind her. Y/N fought back the urge to snap at the pet name - which okay, was slightly better than the others, but she was not going to tell him that - and simply turned to look his way. He was smiling and holding a hand out to her, clearly waiting for her to take it. “Can you come help me in the kitchen?”

She smiled softly at Diego and rose. Her gaze shot back to Vanya, twisting to look more apologetic then happy. “I’m sorry to leave mid-con-”

“-it’s okay, no worries,” she said, waving a hand as though to pass the issue straight up. She took note that the woman never looked directly at Diego, just slightly past him - though she did smile his direction. “Congrats, you two.”

Diego merely nodded, making a sort of grunt noise in acknowledgement before gently taking Y/N’s hand and gesturing the way out. His hand moved to the small of her back, leading her forward into the kitchen where the ever-familiar blonde figure worked. Before she could ask why they had left the siblings (or why he had to slip a pet name in there again), Grace was turning around and her smile had to snap right back on.

“Mom, hi.”

Y/N remained back as Diego greeted his mother, watching as the two embrace. She could not help but soften her smile at the sight; despite her own anxiety, there was a sort of peace, existing between the two that made everything around her a little easier to deal with. He adored his mother, and had done everything he could for her. His love it was obvious even in the littlest of details. How he hugged her, smiled, even looked her way. She had seen him with such an expression before, she knew that, but could not place the place or person - just that it was rare to see him so at ease.

“It’s so nice to see you, Diego,” Grace cooed, resting a gentle hand on her ‘son’s’ cheek. She turned away from the man to smile at Y/N. “And Y/N! You look so beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks, Grace. As do you.”

The being mechanically nodded, just enough hesitation between each movement to show the still robotic features of the human-appearing woman. “Thank you, dear.”

“Uh, mom - I wanted to bring Y/N to you, for a reason.” Diego pulled away from his mother’s side to stand close to her once more, hand at her spine and nervous smile tugging at his lips. “I w-wanted to introduce her to you properly, now that we’re together.”

The next moments flash by so fast, she could not even say if they happened or if it was all just in her head. She could only remember his bashful smile and her red-lipped grin pressing into her temple, a warm voice wishing some sort of happiness and - well, truthfully, she had tuned out the second he had touched her lower back again. The moment he spoke, something had changed, and it no longer felt like a dangerous game played in jest.

She knew it was nothing, had to be so, but the way he said those two words. The smile that graced his lips - it did not feel the same as any other time they had mentioned their relationship. It felt real. Like she was a normal human being who was actually meeting a boyfriend’s mother for the first time, as though she was supposed to really feel nervous and shy but giddy to reach that milestone in their journey. Like it fucking meant something.

And that? That, was absolutely terrifying.

||

THE REST OF THE NIGHT WENT BY IN A BLUR. She could hardly focus on a thing, chewing mechanically through food she did not taste and smiling when it was necessary in conversations she did not hear. Dinner at least was pretty simple and she could get away with this easily, though. Everyone had something to say and every topic drummed up at least twenty minutes of arguing - so much so that their relationship was barely mentioned. Sure, they got a couple sly looks and a few comments from Klaus - but the rest was a breeze.

Aside from her own troubling thoughts.

She turned her gaze upwards, meeting those of Vanya’s across the table. The woman was frowning, and mouthed ‘are you okay?’, with raised brows. All she could do was smile and nod ever so slightly in an attempt to cover her distraught. She did not seem to believe her, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Her eyes turned back to the rest of the siblings, sensing a lull in the conversation, and finally spoke up. “How’s Five, these days? Hasn’t he missed what, like four of these dinners?”

“Three,” Klaus shot out, absent-mindedly swirling the mocktail in his glass with a dismal look. “And really, I couldn’t say. He says we’re too dense to understand his work.”

“He’s trying to hone his abilities, figure out how far he can stretch them. I think right now, he’s working on something in the 60s, but that’s just a guess.”

Diego huffed. “He always had to be the overachiever.”

Across the table, Luther scoffed and set down his fork. “He’s using his powers for the greater good, at least that’s something.”

“What’s that?”

She could practically hear the eyes rolling. Everyone knew what was to come, because as far as she knew, it happened almost every time. Some stupid remark that either Luther or Diego made, that made the either overreact - two big egos clashing with one another constantly. They had done their best to make up, but it never was perfect.

“What are you doin’, huh big guy?” He had stood up at that point, clutching his butter knife like it could be a real weapon - though anything was, with Diego. “What good have you been cookin’ up?”

“We all do our part.”

“Don’t bullshit me here with vague...bullshit!”

The comeback was admittedly weak, but it was still enough to get the brother riled. Luther stood up, flames for eyes, and smashed his fist against the table. No one even flinched. “At least I’m doing something - you’re a criminal, Diego.”

“Ex,” he gritted back. She could practically see the anger building inside him, and yet he managed to keep a thin level of calm, fueling his snarky tone with the rage. “That’s in the past, unlike everything you build your life on now. How long has it been since ‘dad sent you to the moon’. Huh?”

Y/N rested a hand on his, but it was brushed off quickly. So was her hiss to ‘stop’, unfortunately. She sank back perturbed.

“I’m doing important work, unlike you!”

“Unlike me - I save lives, Luther. Every single goddamn night. Putting what Dad did to us to good use. You-you sit on your ape ass and pine after Allison-”

“-dude, that argument is so old,” butted in Allison herself. “Please pick a new one.” She pounded against Y/N’s extended fist with a grim smile, accenting the point. “Also, you’re both embarrassing yourselves.”

She nodded, once more pulling at his arm - that time more successfully. “Please just sit down...baby.” It felt weird to add that on, but also odd not to. Like she needed that accent for a truly strong statement.

What mattered, though, was that it worked. His gaze turned to her with wide eyes as though surprised at her words - probably because ‘baby’ had never left her lips earnestly before. He sank back down and loosened his grip on the knife as requested, though the grimace did not budge.

Y/N smiled softly and moved to talk, but was cut off quickly by Luther, who was still teeming. “So just because of her, you want to be civilized?”

“Luther-”

“-be grateful, Spaceboy.” A wry grin tickled his lips, though he was anything but jovial. “I could still run this knife straight through your thick skull if you say one more thing.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“You should be.”

“And why’s that?” Luther pushed, almost as though he was eager to press all of Diego’s buttons. Like he wanted a show. “Why should I be scared of you, number two?”

“Don’t act like you’re above us all now,” he gritted back, glaring so hard she feared Luther might turn straight to stone. “I could still gut you like a fish, if I wanted.”

“And would your girlfriend want that?”

Y/N watched as his grip tightened on the knife, so tight his fingers were paling by the second. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her.”

She could almost read his mind; sense his next move. And whatever it was, it was not going to end in a good time. Fights with them only escalated until one of them were forced to step down - and it was never through just words. The two were too careless and competitive to just let the other claim victory. Luther got too riled to quickly, and Diego never knew when to stop. Maybe just the worst combinations of personalities put into one room, again and again.

But at that time, she refused to have the night ruined, or to go home upset. That time, was going to be different, and the Hargreeves family dinner could maybe have at least one smile leaving the table. She was not there for nothing.

“Diego, just step down.”

“I-”

-before he could finish his thought, or before anyone could comprehend what was going on, Y/N was moving forward. She tugged his face to her and without a grain of thought, pressed her lips to his. It was rough and she almost winced when their faces collided, but still she continued, doing her best to sell the illusion against a frozen Diego. Her hand slid to cup his cheek, subtly covering their mouths just enough to pull back. With eyes shut tight and lips barely apart from his, she spoke, “shut the fuck up, or I’m walking right now”, before closing the distance once more.

It was weird. In a lot of ways. She had not really thought hard about their first actual kiss, but had not imagined it in front of all his siblings at the dinner table as they all shouted and hollered at the sight. She also had not imagined - well, truly, Y/N could not have expected any part of the outcome. The immediate thought to just kiss him, then him frozen in complete shock, before melting in to her touch, presumably to sell the act. She had to admit, he was far from a bad kisser, lips moving surprisingly-

“-are we ready for dessert?”

When had Grace even left? Y/N had not seen her move from her chair, though she supposed in the chaos, that was not too shocking. The second her voice floated through the air, however, she pulled away from Diego and sank back into her seat with new energy. Cheeks hot and lips just the slightest bit swollen, she ducked her head, not eager to see the faces of those around her.

Especially not his.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Klaus said, eager to fuel her shame further, “but I definitely could eat. How about you, Diego, are you still hungry, or are you-” he cut himself off with a loud yelp.

She did not look up, but no one could mistake the whizzing of the butter knife and Klaus’ shout of surprise, narrowly avoiding the serrated edge going straight into his jugular. In normal circumstances, she would laugh her ass off at the sight, probably berate Diego even through her giggles - but all she could do was bite back the urge to run very far away, away from the disaster situation just created around her. BY her.

Y/N sighed and clutched her fingers a little bit tighter. So much for quick and easy.

||

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”

“What the hell was what?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Y/N stormed right past him, eager to find her way out of that house’s vicinity. However, just as she thought she was free, he caught her arm and pulled her back.

“Let me leave,” she mumbled, freeing herself and resuming her walk. Her frown only grew as she heard him follow. “Okay? We did dinner, great, bye now.”

“You kissed me.”

“I panicked!”

He chuckled grimly behind her. “You panicked - Y/N, that was a full on makeout in front of my entire family!”

“Well...Five wasn’t there. And Ben’s not fully here, does he count?”

“Not the point!”

She rolled her eyes and walked faster - though it was pointless, he always kept up. Screw him and his super human self. “I did what I had to do before one of you went too far. I’m sorry, I just - I panicked, and you weren’t listening to me!”

“I was.”

“You were not! An’ you were about to cut Luther’s head in two right then and there. I thought that in case of emergency - I had to do something, before dinner turned into a bloodbath.”

She had finally stopped then, clutching her thin jacket around her body as she shivered. He stood in front of her, fists in his pockets with a strange look in his eyes - unreadable, just as before.

“Sure,” he finally said, slowly. “I just didn’t think that was when we were going to...you know.”

Y/N shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually. We both knew that.” 

“At our first couples outing?”

“Again, might I mention the decapitation act nearly committed?”

He half grinned at that, though his eyes remained stormy. There was something up, not necessarily with the kiss - more than that, though she could not figure out what. “Not a great excuse.”

“Saving you from prison time isn’t a great excuse?”

“No, I think...you were just that eager to kiss me.”

“Sure, if you mean so we could both walk out of there alive, yeah. I was down to kiss you - for the sake of that, only.”

“You were eager to have the chance, don’t kid yourself.”

She rolled her eyes and took a step back, distancing herself even more. Suddenly, even in the late autumn chill she felt hot, flashes of heat running up and down her body like her embarrassment decided to throw a rave without permission. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, toing the ground with her boot. “I didn’t want to make out with you in front of your family.”

Diego shrugged, a slyer smile building on his lips. “M’sure they enjoyed the show.”

“Gross.”

“I mean, you really went for it-”

“-stop, stop,” she begged, head in her hands. She could hear his laughter, feel it floating around her, but at least she could eliminate the sight of his smirk from the torture. “I get it. Okay? Can we forget about and just get outta here?”

“I don’t think anybody’s gonna be forgetting that anytime soon.” He mumbled something after that, but it was too low for her to catch. Diego stepped close to her, grabbing her arms so as to tug them away from her face, and pulled her forward. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

||

SHE COULD NOT SLEEP. Try as she did, Y/N’s eyes would just not shut; sleep had escaped her, this time all because of herself. Her brain would not turn off and the thoughts that she had ignored the day before were haunting her awake during the night.

She could not forget the kiss. It was stupid and meaningless and yet like a broken record player, it just kept going and going, over and over in her mind until she could knew it too well. Just as it would leave her mind, she would shut her eyes and it would be back - his lips on hers, his stubble pressed into her hand, jaw clenched, his own fingers pressed ever so lightly against her waist -

-Y/N sprung up and stormed out of her bedroom. Aimlessly she walked, pacing her apartment in nary but sleep shorts and one of his own black sweaters, left behind on one of his wounded nights. It was driving her mad. Really, truly, crazy. Just one kiss and she was plain-out insane. Amazing.

She could blame it on the moment, the rush of it all - or even the nerves that had been building from the very start of the evening. She was stressed and it all happened so fast and all she had wanted was for him to shut up before he got hurt...and maybe that was why she was so invested in the embrace. A great deal had been poured into the kiss, and her brain confused that with actual romantic feelings for the guy.

Y/N scoffed and pulled the shirt tighter around her shivering body. She was playing herself, and there was not even a way out. She could not turn her brain off, and definitely there was no way she would tell Diego anything. To admit she was still fixated on a heat-of-the-moment solution - not even a kiss, merely a solution - would be a huge mistake and one she refused to fall for. Besides, she grumbled, what was he to do? He had probably forgotten all about it at that point.

This was all so very, very stupid. And even worse? Very, very, very confusing, emotionally.

She should never have agreed to this fake relationship in the first place.

TAGLIST: @asexualmarauder​ @thatshellfiredean​ @the-bird-suit​  @rangotangomango​ @fandomsandmore394​ @thatkidofwarandpeace​ @antoouu​

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Reports & Repertoire 20: Death & Life

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Summary:  The final chapter. Candy faces the consequences of her actions. Life and Death make things a lot clearer somehow... if you can come out on the other side.

Warnings/Tags: Violence. Death. (BUT FLUFF and a happy ending.) Hope you like it. <3 

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters.

Candy lives a half-life for a little while. Defeated fully and looking over her shoulder. A break comes when someone else manages to release an article on the spree of Roofies and disappearances in the city and all the possible connections. It wasn’t much, there were no names, no fingers pointed or anyone blamed. But it was something and she’d needed a win, no matter how small it may have been.

Eddie was relieved, and so was Venom to a degree. Although he was still steadfast on being able to protect everyone, he was glad Eddie felt better. It allowed for the extra energy he spent being anxious to no longer be used up and therefore not make Venom as ravenous all the time. Edgier meant more food and Eddie was never in the mood to let Venom take control and have his fun. But now everyone had settled back into a nice pattern. Something… normal. As far as normal for them went.

A week later with the air clear and Venom fed, they go out for the evening. Something fun and light and intimate. It was fall now, a comfort in the upcoming holidays and the jitters of her secretly asking him to meet her parents after telling him something she should have long ago. Venom knew it, but telling Eddie and his bumbling nature had been hard. So Candy planned on telling him exactly how she felt that night. To let it all out and tell him what he meant to her, as a friend, a partner, a lover. To let him know she saw him in her future, and to ask him if he saw her in his.

Any serious discussions no matter how welcome and joyous they might be were far from Eddie's mind. They walked through the carnival like children with sticky mouths and hands full of candy when they weren’t in each other’s grasp. A laugh-filled trip through a haunted house, a stuffed Alpaca Eddie got way too into winning her and spent entirely too much money on goes home with them too. 

They sit at the back patio, Candy's head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around one another and Venom quietly waiting in the wings. Fireworks from downtown we’re going off, a crispness to the air could be felt and in each other’s arms was the only place they wanted to be. 

A ring at the door separates them. “That’ll be dinner! Didn’t take them long. Thought with the traffic from the festival it’d take longer.” She says with a pleasantly surprised look on her face.

“These explosions are aesthetically pleasing. Like the ones in July to celebrate the birth of America.”

“I see you paid attention.” Eddie nods approvingly, kicked back with a beer in his hand.

“I always pay attention.” He retorts. “Eddie.” Venom's tone and sudden stiffness brings a cool rush down Eddie's spine.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie whispers, feeling the tension.

————

Candy trots towards the door in her pajamas, bare feet soaking up the cool wood in the house.

“Candy?” A man asks as she opens the door.

“Yeah, do I need to tip you here or on the app?” She asked, fumbling with her phone. 

“We tried to give you a tip but you didn’t listen.”

Her hair stands on end and her eyes shoot up wide and afraid. And they should’ve been. The man is holding a gun. “What do you want?” She whispers with a serious face and tone. Every muscle in her body was tense. She didn’t even breathe. 

“All you have to do is stop. Just shut the fuck up about it. Stop trying to save the day Nancy Drew, this shit doesn’t fly in the real world. You shut up and it goes away.” he waves the gun around as he speaks.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. What you’re doing is wrong.” There are tears in her eyes for too many reasons to name. She’d had self-defense classes. She could get the gun, yell for Eddie and this would be over. The seconds felt  like hours as they say in life or death moments. 

“I’ll say it again. You shut up. And it goes away. I have to give you your final warning.” He extends his arm, gun pointed down and Candy sees her moment. She tries to get in close and gain control, but the man had an itchy trigger finger. It slipped, him only being a messenger to scare her into silence. But it backfired. For everyone. 

————-

“The door.” Is all Venom says before he encases Eddie. He was faster than Eddie could be and took in the scene in front of him with quicker decision making.

Candy was on the floor and bleeding with multiple gunshots to her torso. A man staring in the doorway in horror at them with a gun in his hand. As Eddie screams inside the cage of goo, Venom eats the attacker without a second thought. Now there was no man.

Candy cries out, back against the wall as she reaches out for them. “Eddie…” She wheezes and holds her chest. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He was never good at hiding his emotions when it came to worry for those he cared about. 

“I... they…”

“Shhh, don’t speak. I’m calling the ambulance.” He fumbles and drops his phone into the rapidly growing pool of blood from underneath her. 

“Eddie.” Venom says, tendrils moving down his hands as they touch Candy's pulse points.

“Eddie I-“  her eyes flutter as he cries and groans in fear, his phone continually slipping from his fingers as she sighs out his name, rapidly losing consciousness.

“Shhh shh we’ve got you baby. Don’t worry. I’ll call- SHIT!”

“Eddie she won’t make it.” Venom calmly states even though it helps nothing. 

“We have to DO something we just can’t. FUCK!” His voice breaks and he holds her face as he cries. 

Her head rests in his hand and she smiles for him, her vision tunneling. “Eddie I l-“ 

“Shhh save your energy Candy. Baby, I’ve got you.”

“Eddie I can help but… we have to separate.”

“What?”

“I can’t bond with her. I can try. To heal her, save her.”

He sees her go limp in his grasp and he sobs, hunched over and shaking. “Do it please just- FUCK!” He screeches and shakes her. “Save her, man!”

A warm embrace she finds herself in. Only the thought of “Eddie, I love you. I’m sorry.” In her mind. It’s all Venom hears as he takes her over, connecting to her every fiber and cell as he heals the wounds.

Eddie is left in his own personal hell as Venom works. He’s alone. Utterly for the first time in what felt like forever. There was no voice in his head but his own, and despite not holding the symbiote, his body had never felt heavier or harder to function. Candy lay lifeless, as  Eddie sobbed and held her, choking out please, feeling helpless in the puddle of blood on the floor. If Venom had brought him back, surely he could help her.

———-

“She’ll live.” Venom says, a sluggish head forming from her shoulder and plopping onto Eddie's head. 

Eddie can’t answer. He’s too busy sobbing into her hair to speak, he only nods and pulls Venom into his embrace.

 “The superficial wounds are closed. I’m working on her heart now. It’ll be slow. Very intricate, human organs. Lots of blood to make.” He says weakly. “Wash her, take her to bed. Get us chocolate. Something. Need. Energy.” He hisses as he sinks back into her. 

Eddie does as he’s told. Stripping them both and showering them off, leaving the bloody clothes on the shower floor. He puts her in bed, shorts and a hoodie of his she knows he likes. He touches her so gently, and she feels it, in a way. Venom tells her Eddie has her, and they’ll make sure everything’s okay. 

Eddie left to deal with keeping the blood hidden as the food arrived. He looked a mess, red-faced and puffy-eyed but luckily the young guy didn’t seem to care. He forgets the food and tosses it in the fridge. Locking everything and now to the task of cleaning up the blood. 

He’s never cleaned up a body’s worth of blood before. Towels were no help and paper was too weak. He gathers it all into a pile, slouching it into a garbage bag. He throws their now soaked and blood-stained clothes in as well and tries to make the place looked decent. He can’t do much for the blood spatter on the light-colored walls but, paint could fix that later right? 

He falls exhausted into the bed next to her. He watches her breathing, color back in her face now that had been a ghastly white. “Is she...in pain?” He asks, feeling the tiredness take over his muscles as he tries to push back her hair and hold her hand. 

“No.” Venom quietly answers. “Not physical.”

“Good.” He nods. “Wait, what does that mean?” He double-takes.

“She is distraught. Emotionally.”

“She DID almost die.”

“Yes. She understands. And wants me to tell you she knows who it was.” 

“WHAT?” His brow furrows and his eyes go wide, his weak and human body ready to defend her anyway. 

“It was a message. The men she was trying to expose. They found out it was her. A snitch she presumes from the tone, she says.”

“Can she hear me?” He asks. 

“No. But I can talk to her for you if you wish. She has many things to say.”

“Like what? About the guys who shot her?”

“No. About you.”

“Me? What about me? What’d I do? What does she need?”

“You. Just you.” Venom’s voice reflects the loving nature of her request. “What she wants to say is that she loves you. What she won’t admit is she wants to marry you. She doesn’t want to leave you as much as she doesn’t want you to leave her. She loves us Eddie. Us.” A weak sigh as he feels it all so intensely in the new body. 

“She… loves us?”

“Very much so. She was going to tell us tonight. Tell you tonight. Wants us in her future. To… meet her parents she says.”

“I’ll do anything she wants.” He laughs and kisses her forehead. “I’ll marry her as soon as she can stand if she would. I love her. Tell her I love her so much. I thought I’d lost her and I’ll never let her get hurt again. I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. You warned her, she says. And you were right.” 

“Are you sure that’s her saying that?” Eddie laughs and kisses her cheek.

“She thought you’d say that.” Venom ripples happily at the love he was being sent. “You should ask her to marry you. After this has passed. I didn’t mention that part to her. She loves us. She will say yes.”

“I need a ring.” He says with rapidly moving eyes. “But we can do that right?”

“Yes we can.” Venom trills happily. 

———

Venom totally healed Candy. Not so much as a bit of bacteria out of place when he leaves her. She awakes in her bed with a gasp and Eddie sitting upright beside her.

“Hey baby, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re good. Take it easy.” He rushes out as he holds her head and chest steady. 

“Eddie I was… I thought I was dead there for a minute.” She speaks softly and takes his hand with wide eyes.

“You were. But Venom fixed you. Good as new. Not a stitch out of place now.” He tells her proudly. 

“Eddie.. I…” She feels exhausted but really good otherwise. Like she’s been hit with a truck but then injected with adrenaline.  She lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. “I almost didn’t get to tell you I loved you. And I do. So much.” She whines into his neck and he holds her back just as tightly with a soft smile as he kisses her head. 

“I love you too. The most. So much. You’re not going anywhere Candy. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t think he meant to kill me.” She says with a stark change in tone. “I think it was a warning. He would’ve shot me in the head otherwise.”

“Shhh. We don’t have to talk about it yet.”

“That was…” She lets out a sigh and slumps, letting him direct her against his chest as he leaned back in the bed. 

“You’re okay now. Just rest for a minute.” He shushes her and she accepts it. 

“She is right. Her logic is on point. The angle, the weapon and words… all point to a warning and not a hit.”

“Venom we don’t have to-“

“See?” She mutters into his chest.

“Perhaps if we… lay low. Stop prying…” Venom reluctantly suggests.

“He’s right. I’m so sorry for risking it. For putting us all in danger.”

“S’alright Candy.” Eddie insists with a kiss to her head once again. Her hair soft and fluffy from the bath he’d given her. “If that’s true then… we can rest now, right? Take it easy. Just… us. Not take this for granted?”

“You’re right. We work too hard. I miss you too much. I need you Eddie. All the time.” She says weakly and squeezes his torso as he pouts and returns the affection. “Move in with me. Stay here. I’ll take time off work, so can you. We can hideaway. We can catch up for lost time and just… exist.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I love you and I want you around. I want you to meet my parents. I want you involved in my life, Eddie. I want you here. With me.”

“Then I will. Don’t have to convince me. I’m already sold.” He gives her a soft smile and she kisses him unexpectedly in response. 

“I love you.” She whispers and holds him tight. 

“I love you too. We’ll figure it all out. I’ll move in. We’ll take some time off.”

“I feel like I’ve been away for a year. I feel like I miss you so much and you’re right here.”

“I was here the whole time. Never leaving your side  Candy, don’t ever question it.”

————-

With every bit of confidence they could muster, Candy and Eddie walked into their boss ' offices and said they were taking some time

off. Whenever someone asked, personal reasons was the answer given and due to their contracts, they weren’t left with too much of a choice in the matter.  

A month. An entire month of just them. They huddled up in their little home. Like bunnies, they snuggled, fucked, ate, napped and played. With sight of what was important, everything was lighter, clearer and nothing had ever felt so right. She felt like she'd gotten a second chance, and it was all Venom's doing. She was eternally in debt to him and Eddie. Their long nights and days spent together let her think about what was most important outside of a career. What did she want to leave behind and still do that she had been pushing back in the name of work? It was time to prioritize. 

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

They didn’t leave the house for four whole weeks. They did nothing but enjoy each other in every way they knew how. And with a few nights left of their getaway, Eddie knew exactly how to finalize the best few weeks of his life.

“Keep your eyes closed alright? Just trust me.”

“I do.” She replies happily as she covers them with her hands. He’s taken her downtown and showed her off, fed her the best food money could buy and they got to remember what being around civilized people was like. They much preferred the sanctuary of their home. They laughed a little too loud, kissed a little long for everyone else’s taste. But no one else mattered anymore. 

So as the night moved into early morning, a walk through the architecture of downtown skyscrapers, hand in hand, he stops her at the foot of one. This one being the tallest of them all. And thus having the best view. If you knew how to get there.

She feels an odd whoosh, a rush of air that goes on for a minute but she keeps still, keeps her eyes shut as she feels Venom's embrace. She feels her feet on solid ground again, and she's thankful for it. 

“Okay. Open your eyes but STAY CALM okay? You’re fine. I promise. Venoms wrapped around you, we’re both fine.”

“Are you convincing me or yourself?” She asks with a nervous laugh as she uncovers her eyes but keeps them shut. 

“Uh… a little of both?” His voice breaks and she finds his hand and takes it.

She opens her eyes and her arm reaches for Venom's tight grip around her waist. They were at the base of the needle at the top of the building. Only enough room to stand, she’s left to gawk as she realizes she’s safe. 

“Oh my god.” She whispers, taking in the breathtaking view. Everything seemed so far away, the lights and sounds so concentrated at ground level seemed like faint melodies and twinkling stars up so high. “It’s… this is beautiful.” Her eyes can’t leave the sight as her hand stays firm in his and wrapped in Venom's body. 

“This view was the beginning of me learning to love earth.” Venom adds.

“I can see why.” She shares the sentiment.

“I now know it’s the humans. Like Eddie. Like you. That make it worth staying.”

“You’re very sweet Venom, thank you.” She strokes his happily rippling mass.

“I wanted to give you something no one else could.” Eddie takes her full attention. “I know there’s only so much I can do, and I’m not… we’re not what you planned to be with but, we’re thankful every day that you are.”

She smiles and pouts slightly before Venom brings them chest to chest. “Eddie, baby, you’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for.” She insists with a kiss to his cheek.

“And so are you. You’re, everything to me. Everything I wanna be, everything I’m not. You.. you complete me Candy and I don’t wanna go back to being alone. Not without Venom, not without you. I want you to stay. I wanna make sure you stay.” He insists with hands to her cheeks that surprise her, intensity and fear she wasn’t used to seeing in Eddie. 

Venom swirls up her arm, tiny tendrils taking her hand and holding a ring that shone as bright as the city lights below.

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Candy Miller. Would you do that for me? Would you marry me?” He asks with hopeful eyes that make her chest ache at the thought he might believe even for a second she’d say no.

“I’ll stay with you beyond that.” She promised and kisses him softly. “Of course I’ll marry you.” She laughs against his lips. A warm embrace against the cold winds up so high. A kiss that faded and turned into happy sighs as they caressed each other’s faces in excitement. “You’ve made my life absolutely insane.” She laughs, “But I couldn’t stand it without you now. Without you both.”

“We love you Candy.” Venom almost sings and wraps himself around her head to nuzzle her in the form of a slug-like round head. 

“I love you boys.” She lets out a huge sigh and Eddie beams at her. It went perfectly. She was perfect. It was all so… perfect.

“It will be perfect.” Venom whispers into his head. 

Eddie questions him wordlessly. 

“You’ll see. One more present.” He insists inwardly. “Ready to go home?” He asks Candy. 

“I believe so. I want to cuddle up with my babies.” She teases and kisses Eddie again. 

“And you will. Keep tight. Eyes shut.” He says as they’re sucked together into his darkness and taken in leaps and bounds back to the safety of their bedroom.

“That feels sooo weird.” She laughs stumbling back and sitting on the bed as she’s released.

“You get used to it.” Eddie grins, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to stop for awhile.

“I have one more present.” Venom announces, a more fully formed head to speak to them both. “It is something you both wanted.” 

They both wait with a shared glance as Venom vibrates with excitement. He moves Eddie closer to the bed and stands up Candy as they look at each other with laughter in their eyes he ripples again. 

“Ready?” He asks with a wide smile.

“Yeah, I wanna know why you’re acting so weird.” Eddie playfully jabs him.

“Eddie…” He takes one of his hands. “Candy…” He takes hers and takes a deep breath that was only for show as he didn’t need to physically breathe. He places Eddie's hand to her stomach and places hers on top. “You’re going to have a baby.” He says with tiny tendrils flicking about in celebration. 

“A- What? I’m afraid I can’t be, hun, I’ve got an IUD remember?” She looks at him confused along with Eddie.

“It was destroyed along with your uterus in the shots. I removed it and healed you. I can taste the difference in your sweat. The hormones. They’ve changed.”

She gulps and her hand clenched around Eddies. “Are you… serious?”

“Yes. I repaired you beyond what you were before, you’re a perfectly balanced machine now.”

“We’ve been having sex this whole month and... I…” She feels a little woozy and Eddie braces her back. Careful to read her reactions. 

“Are you serious?” He asks him again. 

“Yes! Why do you keep asking? I wouldn’t have waited to tell you if I hadn’t thought it would make a good present.”

“It… is a good present?” She can hear the break in Eddie's voice. His eyes moving to hers that were still wide in shock.

“I’m… I’m gonna… WE are gonna… OH GOD WILL IT BE AN ALIEN?!” She shouts and Venom rumbles out a laugh.

“No. Sadly not. This is all Eddies work.”

“Eddie.” She squeaks out, His high brows move closer to her own. “I’m pregnant.” She states with disbelief. A pause that makes him nervous then an almost maniacal laugh escapes her. “I’m pregnant.” She speaks again and laughs. “Oh my God Eddie. We’re gonna have a baby. A baby.” She laughs and throws her head into his chest.

“Please tell me these are happy crazy laughs.” He inquires hesitantly and she squeezes him tight.

“After I was shot. I thought about a lot of things. How I spent my time. What I wanted out of life.” She begins without looking at him yet.

“She’s always wanted to be a mother. But never knew when the right time would be.” Venom makes it easier for her, a loving stroke of her hair and pat to her back.

“Exactly. I forget you we’re in my head.” She lets out a sniffle. “My mom's gonna be so happy.” She laughs and it turns to tears. “Eddie we're gonna have a baby.” She starts to sob as he laughs at first at the absurdity of it all. But with the life he’d led, honestly, a baby was about the least crazy thing. A baby was entirely normal in comparison.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” He chokes out before the contagious laughing tears get their hooks into him as well. “We’re getting married and we're having a baby.” He lets out a loud sigh of relief.

“This is crazy.” She laughs as they rest forehead to forehead and wipe away the other’s tears. 

“Is it? Compared to…” He motions to Venom whose big opal eyes were brimming with his version of tears. A sympathetic reaction to his host's emotions. 

They burst out laughing at it all. Because what else could happen that would be more surprising than what they’d already been through? This mantra gave them the outlook they had needed. They would take it all in stride now from experience, they would work through the bad and cherish the good. They kept in mind how absurd it all was, and laughter followed them through it all. Because what could be crazier than what life had already thrown at them?

@hardygal69 @marvelgirl7 @emerald-bijou @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger​ @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic​ @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21 @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @queenof-wakanda @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @peakys-mystic @jaegeeeeer

[greatpretending]

I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up

Word Count: 5063

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, cheesy fluff, discussion of sex/a little steamy stuff but nothing actually NSFW

Summary: The sequel to Catch Me If I Fall. Thank you to everyone for all of the support for that fic. I’m sorry it took me so long to get a sequel up, but the inspiration has to be there, you know? Huge thanks to @peterbparkerr for encouraging me and for proofreading it for me as well. Also @steelfeather for proofreading it and screaming in my text messages.

.

.

Your eyes were stinging. You blinked, hard, for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to get them to focus. You were sitting on your too-small couch in your too-small living room in your too-small apartment. Your legs were over Peter’s lap, and you were desperately trying to ignore the sounds of him tinkering with one of his webshooters while you read.

Five pages left.

You were so close. So close to the end of this book. So close to the end of your assignment. Of your class. Of your year. Of college.

Four pages left.

Peter’s tinkering continued. It was the first time in two weeks you’d spent any longer than 20 minutes in the same room together- sleeping not included.

Three pages left.

Between exams, final assignments, your thesis paper, and your job, you were living more off Starbucks and bagels than balanced meals. Not to mention Peter had all of that plus his Spider-duties, so your relationship had become little more than a quick kiss goodbye in the mornings and your hand reaching out to touch his shoulder when he finally crawled into bed late at night.

Two pages left.

In fact, the only reason you were together right now was that Peter had needed to put off going out for the night to fix his webshooter. You knew as soon as it was fixed, he’d be swinging out the window. Selfishly, you hoped it took a while.

One page left.

As soon as you had your degrees, you’d be moving back to New York with Peter, where you already had a job lined up - thanks, Pepper Potts - and maybe, just maybe, things would be a little less crazy. 

“Fucking finally!” you shouted, throwing your book onto the floor and startling Peter a little. “I never want to read a book about women that was written by a man again.”

“And you never have to,” Peter said, rubbing your leg soothingly. He slid his webshooter onto his wrist, poked it a few more times, then used it to snag your book off the ground, setting it on the coffee table. He then patted your legs to get you to lift them off of him. “Alright, I gotta go.”

Instead of letting him up, you sat up and knelt over his lap, knees on either side of his hips and arms around his shoulders.

“Or,” you suggested, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “You could stay in tonight.”

Peter hooked his hands under your legs and stood up, making you squeal in surprise as he carried you to your bedroom.

Peter laid you sideways on the bed, crawling over you and pressing quick kisses from your collarbone up your neck. You were just reaching down to pull his shirt off when he reached your ear.

“I can’t,” he whispered, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead and hopped off the bed.

“That was mean!” you complained, sitting up and watching him pull his suit out of your cramped closet. 

“Sorry,” he said, pulling his clothes off and suit on. Mask in hand, he walked back over to the bed where you were still pouting at him. “You know I can’t take a night off right now. Not with all those muggings going on in Charlestown. Plus,” he continued, tapping you on the nose with a finger, “you have a thesis to work on.”

“Uuuughh,” you groaned, throwing yourself back onto the bed. “I would so much rather have sex with you.”

“I know,” Peter laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you back up. “Three more weeks. Then we’re done and we can have all the sex you want.”

“All the sex I want?” you asked. Peter shook his head.

“I’m still not going to take you to the top of Trump Tower to defile it.”

“Fiiiiine.” You tugged on Peter’s hands to get him to lean down and kiss you again. After the soft peck, Peter held onto your hands, kneeling down in front of you and looking into your eyes.

“Oh my god,” you laughed, already catching onto Peter’s latest bullshit. 

Lately, Peter had taken to getting onto one knee to ask you the dumbest things. Will you grab milk on your way home? Will you please order him a caramel macchiato with six shots of espresso and an extra pump of vanilla? Would you grab lunch with him between classes?

“Will you promise me you won’t wait up for me?” Peter asked, with all the sincerity of a real proposal. You rolled your eyes and continued to laugh.

“Yes, I promise,” you said, shoving on his shoulders playfully. “Go save some spiders.”

Peter pulled his mask on and headed to the window. 

“Don’t stay up too late.”

“Only if you come home safe.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

By 1 AM, you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and decided to call it a night. By 2 AM, Peter was sliding into bed next to you. You reached out your hand and put it on his shoulder like you always did, but this time you didn’t notice the blood seeping into the sheets.

.

.

At 5 AM, your alarm went off, blaring loudly until you managed to dig your phone out from the sheets and shut it off. Wanting to cry more and more with every passing moment that you were awake, you sat up and stretched. You scratched your leg, which was weirdly itchy, and felt something… flake off.

In a lot of confusion and a little panic, you flicked the lamp on your nightstand on and pulled the covers back, finding dried blood on your thigh. You pulled the covers back more and found that your sheets were soaked dark with blood, coming from somewhere underneath Peter.

Panic setting in fully now, you grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

“Peter, wake up!” You all but yelled at him, voice shaking. “Peter!”

“H- What-” Peter grabbed your hand and startled awake, eyes flicking around the room before settling on yours. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re bleeding!”

You were already crying. Between the exhaustion and the terror, it wasn’t a surprise that you’d become such a mess so fast.

Peter sat up quickly and looked down at his leg, running his hands along it and trying to see every spot he could. With your brain in the state that it was, you couldn’t make yourself do anything more than sit there and stare at him with your hands covering your mouth.

After a few moments of Peter checking himself over, his shoulders relaxed and he turned to you, taking your blood-stained hands in his and pulling them away from your mouth.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, squeezing your fingers. “Whatever it was, it’s all healed up now.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, sniffling.

“Positive.”

You let out a sigh of bone-weary relief, leaning into his shoulder and feeling his arms go around you.

“That scared the shit out of me,” you mumbled into his skin.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath and sat up again, resting a hand on his face and kissing him slowly.

“Go get in the shower,” you said. “I’ll take care of the sheets. And get us coffee.”

Peter kissed your cheek and stood up. You did your best to ignore his slight limp as he walked into the bathroom. With another sigh, you stood up and began pulling the sheets off the bed. You took them straight to the trash can, knowing that no amount of bleach could save them from that much blood.

As you were pouring two cups of coffee, you felt Peter come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him as he placed soft kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“I’ll buy more sheets on my way home from class, okay?” he said, hugging you a little tighter.

“Mmkay,” you said, reaching up and carding your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a little while, just trying to enjoy whatever short time you got to spend with each other lately.

“I also have good news,” Peter said when you finally leaned away from him, unable to resist the aroma of the coffee any longer.

“What’s that?” you asked, handing him his mug and leaning back into the counter. Caffeine didn’t really do anything for Peter, but routine and familiarity did, so he shared morning coffee with you anyway.

“Tony wants to throw us a graduation party,” Peter told you.

“I love when Tony wants to pay for things,” you replied, sipping your coffee.

“It’ll be a black-tie event,” Peter continued, and your heart sank a little.

“I don’t own anything black-tie,” you said, and Peter grinned.

“I know,” he said, grabbing his wallet off of the counter and pulling out a heavy, black card. “That’s why I have his credit card.”

“I love when Tony wants to pay for things,” you said again.

You set your coffee onto the counter and went over to the couch, pulling your planner out of your bag and flipping to the current month.

“The only day that neither of us have class and I don’t work is… next Sunday,” you grimaced. “And my thesis is due at eight in the morning on Monday.”

“We can make that work,” Peter said, and you nodded, already penciling it in. 

“Where do you even buy black-tie attire in Boston, anyway?” you wondered aloud.

“Uh… Tony said he wanted to set us up with personal shoppers at Barneys.”

“There’s a Barneys in Boston?”

“Uhm, maybe,” Peter said, seeming hesitant. “But Tony wants us to go to New York and get the full experience. Whatever that means.”

“New York?” you asked, incredulous and a little panicked again. “Peter, that’s a three and a half hour drive!”

“I know, I know, hear me out,” Peter said. “I’ll pick you up from work Saturday night and we’ll head straight there. We’ll spend the night with May, go shopping Sunday morning, and then you’ll have plenty of time to go over your thesis before Monday morning. Then you can sleep in, and we’ll come back that afternoon before your four-thirty class.”

You stared at your planner, already filled with pencil marks and notes. You couldn’t believe you had to block out forty hours for a shopping trip.

“Also Tony said he’d pay for gas.”

“He should fly us down in his dumb private jet,” you grumbled, filling in your calendar.

“I could probably arrange that,” Peter said, and you waved your hand.

“Between getting through security and finding a cab in the city it’ll take the same amount of time if we just drive.”

“That’s true.”

“Okay, I need more coffee and I need to go,” you said. “I need to be in my seat taking a test in…. 49 minutes, fuck.”

.

.

The week went by in a blur, just like the last few had been. By Saturday night you were almost grateful to be going to the city. At least May would cook for you and you would get to have something for dinner that wasn’t a microwave burrito.

Peter pulled up in your Mustang just as you were locking up, and you hopped in the passenger seat, immediately reaching into the backseat for your overnight bag.

As Peter began driving, you pulled out some pajama pants and a t-shirt, tugging off your work uniform as quickly as possible. You fucking hated khakis.

“Is it sad that this is the most naked I’ve seen you in almost a month?” Peter asked, glancing over at you in just your underwear as you struggled to get your pants on.

“Whose fault is that?” you replied. “I told you, any time you want, we can go up to Trump-”

“Okay!” Peter interrupted, turning up the music as you laughed.

You spent most of the drive working on homework, but as you got closer to the city and Peter began growing tired, you put it away. For the last hour you and Peter talked more than you had in several weeks, laughing and singing along to music and telling bad jokes back and forth. Even though you’d technically seen him every day, you realized that you had missed him. You’d missed just being with him. No homework, no Spider-duties. Just laughing.

And even though you had so much left to do, you had this moment to yourselves. For just a moment you felt your stress melt away and be replaced with pure, unadulterated joy. When Peter smiled at you and took your hand, you knew he felt the same way.

It was just nearing 2 AM when you pulled up to May’s apartment, and you and Peter let yourselves in quietly, heading straight to bed. You snuggled into him, feeling closer than you had in a while, and for the first time in weeks, drifted off to sleep with a smile.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of pancakes. Peter had gotten up before you for once, so you were sad to find the sheets empty.

You weren’t sad for long though, as Peter soon creaked the door open poking his head in.

“You up?” he asked softly.

“Hhhngdbjuh.” you replied, affirmative.

“May has breakfast ready.”

“Hmmmmminute.”

By the time you stumbled your way into the bathroom and back out, there was a plate of quiche and pancakes at the table for you, set next to a cup of coffee. You gave an awkward hug to May’s shoulders as you made your way to your seat, immediately reaching for you coffee.

“Thank you for breakfast, May,” you said, digging into the melt-in-your-mouth quiche. It was incredible, just like everything else that came out of May’s kitchen.

“Peter flipped the pancakes,” May said.

“And they didn’t end up on the other side of the kitchen? I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re such a bitch before your coffee,” Peter joked, and you laughed as May kicked his shin under the table.

When you were dressed and ready to leave for Barney’s, Peter grabbed his wallet and your hand, kneeling down and smiling up at you.

“Would you do me the honor of going shopping with me?” He asked as you laughed and tugged your hand away.

“Yes, now knock it off!” You said through your laughter. “What if May had seen you, you would have given her a heart attack!”

Peter just shrugged and led you out the door.

On your way to the store, you let yourself revel in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of New York City. Even the crammed subway felt calming and familiar as you stood with one hand on the railing and the other in Peter’s.

Walking up Madison Avenue, you felt a strange combination of nerves and excitement. You kind of loved the idea of spending someone else’s money on extravagant things, but you also felt a little guilty about spending all that money on extravagant things. You tried to push it out of your head - this was a gift from Tony, and he could choose to spend his money however he wished.

Peter held the door open for you as you entered Barney’s and you were immediately greeted by two very stylish employees. They swept you away to their “consultation rooms”  and began asking questions about what you thought you might like to wear. You and Peter had talked about it a little on the way there. He was going to get a classic black tux, and you were leaning toward a red dress. Black and red were MIT’s colors, after all.

You tried on a few different dresses that your shopper pulled for you, not really loving any of them. Eventually (long after Peter had picked out a tux) you found one you felt really good in. It felt stylish and classy and a little sexy, and you hoped Peter liked it as much as you did.

He must have, because when you stepped out of the room to show him, he looked you up and down and said “Yup, you’re getting that one. I have to go try on shoes.” And walked away.

When you went back into the changing room, your shopper said “I know a great pair of Louboutins that we have that would look amazing with this dress, let me go grab them.”

“Okay,” you said, swallowing. You had a general idea of what the average pair of Louboutins cost.

She wasn’t wrong, though. The shoes were amazing. She also helped you pick out a nice pair of earrings and a clutch. You never saw a price tag or a receipt. Everything was “added to Mr. Stark’s account” and would be delivered to May’s apartment that afternoon.

“Why did you get all weird and walk away when I showed you that dress?” You asked Peter on the way home.

“Because if I looked at you in it any longer I was going to pop a boner,” Peter shrugged, and you laughed so hard you cried a little.

You spent the rest of your day on May’s couch, headphones on, laptop open, notes spread around you, and coffee nearby as you perfected your thesis paper. You didn’t move except for bathroom breaks and fifteen minutes to eat dinner. Peter, the ever-patient and wonderful boyfriend that he was, kept your mug full and periodically reminded you to drink some water as well.

You didn’t pay attention to anything else for almost sixteen hours. You couldn’t. Every word in every sentence in every paragraph had to be perfect. Every statement had to be fact-checked and cross-referenced. You couldn’t stop until the minute you turned it in.

When you finally crawled into bed, just as the sun was beginning to rise, you felt both anxiety and relief. You were asleep before you were able to pull the covers up.

At some point you were vaguely aware of Peter kissing your forehead and telling you he was making a Starbucks run, but you fell so deeply back into your sleep that you never realized it took him nearly an hour and a half to get back.

.

.

Your last week of college was a whirlwind of turning in projects, working, taking exams, and packing up your apartment. You’d never been so truly, deeply exhausted in your life. You knew you’d lost a little weight simply from not having the time to eat. 

As you exited the building after your last exam, the sun was shining and your wonderful, wonderful boyfriend was waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and he shouted “You did it!” as you ran into his arms. He lifted you into the air and spun you around in a circle.

“I did it!” you repeated when he set you down, handing you the flowers. You took them and rolled your eyes as he got down on one knee, putting both hands over his heart.

“Would you make me the luckiest man on the planet and let me take you out to dinner?” he asked.

“Stop it!” you laughed. “Someone’s going to think you’re actually proposing!”

Peter pouted dramatically and stood up. “Is that a no?”

“Oh my god, I’ll go to dinner with you, stop being… the way you are.”

“Got it, I’ll be a total and complete asshole for the rest of my life.”

“So what are you going to change, the- hey! Don’t tickle me!”

You went to your favorite diner and had your first full meal since you’d gotten back from May’s. When you were stuffed and just picking at the remainder of your fries, you felt the exhaustion start to kick in again.

“Hey, babe?” you asked, feeling your brain start to lose focus.

“Yeah?” 

“Can we go home and take a nap?”

“Yes, please.”

And so you did just that, flopping together onto your mattress and relaxing. You both slept through the night and into the next morning, despite your plans to pack and Peter’s plan to do Spidey things. Clearly you both needed the sleep though, because neither of you woke up until after 9 AM.

When you finally peeled your eyes open and found your phone, you groaned at the clock. Technically, you hadn’t missed anything that needed to be done, but you still felt like you’d wasted a lot of time.

You reached over and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Peter. Babe. Peter. Peter.”

“Huwassat?”

“It’s like… morning.”

And thus started another week of trying to keep your shit together. You finished up your last few days at your job while Peter finished his last class. You packed up your apartment. You finally had sex for the first time in five weeks.

Your commencement ceremony came and went in a blur of speeches, sweating in your gown, hugging your classmates, thanking your professors, hugging your family, and feeling all eyes on your group as you left with Tony Stark.

“They ask me to speak every year,” he explained when he arrived unexpectedly. “This is the only time I’ve ever wanted to come.”

Peter was very touched by that.

Tony took Peter, May, you, and your family out to dinner, and then it was back to the apartment to finish packing and cleaning. You moved back to New York in the morning.

.

.

Of course, the day after you moved was the party.

After getting everything down to New York, you brought everything inside and started unpacking as quickly as you could. Thank god Peter had super-strength, or you didn’t know how you would’ve gotten some of those boxes inside.

You had your shared playlist playing from your speaker on the windowsill as you sorted through box after box. It was a little annoying that unpacking was way faster than packing had been.

Now I’ve….had the time of my life….

“Oh, baby, we have to dance!”

You smiled. Peter only ever called you ‘baby’ when this song was playing, or right after you’d caught Dirty Dancing playing on TV.

“We don’t have time,” you argued, though you did let him spin you once.

“We have all the time in the world!” Peter retorted, grabbing your hips and trying to get you to sway with him. You smiled again and pecked him on the lips.

“We really don’t,” you said. And you weren’t lying. Tomorrow night was your super-fancy graduation party and then you started your new job on Monday.

You didn’t have time to dance, but as the song went on, you decided you at least had time for a jump.

“I love you,” Peter said, smiling as he set you down.

“I love you more.”

The next morning you met up with May at a nearby salon and got your hair done, then you grabbed a light lunch and went to the nail salon. You felt like you were going to high school prom all over again.

You went back to your apartment and steamed your dress, ridding it of any wrinkle it had acquired during the move. A few minutes before a car was supposed to arrive to pick you up, you stepped into it carefully, having Peter help you zip it up.

His eyes trailed up and down your body as you stepped back.

“I really, really just want to take that dress right back off you,” he said. You smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you grabbed his chin and kissed him. You loved how wanted he made you feel.

“You look pretty good yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. His hands fell to your waist and he pulled you close to his body, kissing you deeply. He kissed you until your back was against the wall and his knee was between yours.

Eventually Peter broke the kiss, breathing a little heavily and leaning his forehead against yours.

“We don’t have time for this,” he said.

“No, we don’t,” you agreed. Peter pecked your nose.

“Fix your lipstick.”

When the car came and Peter held the door for you as you slid in. With every mile you drove you became more nervous. This was the biggest you-centered event you had ever had. Tony said there were around two hundred people on the guest list. And that was after he had trimmed it down. You didn’t even know two hundred people.

Peter held your hand during the drive and every step into the venue. You could tell he was nervous, too. Tony wasn’t there when you got there - he was never on time to his own parties, let alone early - but Happy and May were. Employees of the venue were finishing last minute set-up.

“There’s a fucking ice sculpture,” you whispered, staring at the giant beaver that you assumed was supposed to represent MIT’s mascot. 

It wasn’t long until guests started to filter in, heading to the bar to grab a drink for cocktail hour before dinner. You mingled as best you could, introducing yourself to people you’d never heard of and embracing your family and friends. You lost Peter for a little bit, and you tried to smile and nod your way through conversations with several talented, successful, beautiful people. You probably explained your major to seventy-five different strangers. 

Finally, dinner was served and you found your boyfriend again.

“Ellen Degeneres is at our freaking graduation party,” you whispered to him as you sat down.

“I know.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Throughout dinner there were a few toasts made in your honor. Tony made a lovely speech about Peter beginning his internship with Stark Industries at just 14 years old, and how in the time since he’s become nothing less than family to Tony. By the end of it, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

When all six courses of your meal were through, you were really starting to feel overwhelmed by the event. There were so many people, and you weren’t even allowed to get drunk to cope with that. Well, you probably could get drunk, but you weren’t going to risk embarrassing yourself in front of all these people you could potentially work for in the future. Or who could work for you. Or Ellen Degeneres.

So you tapped twice on Peter’s wrist (his cue to follow you in a few minutes) and stepped into the hall where the bathrooms were. When Peter met you out there he took your hand in his.

“There’s a playground across the street,” Peter said. “Wanna go get some fresh air?”

You nodded and Peter led you out a side door so you wouldn’t be caught ditching your own party, if only for a few minutes. You hurried across the road and wandered into the playground, empty at such a late hour.

There was a tall tower structure right in the middle that you really, really wanted to climb.

“I’m having a really hard time not climbing that tower,” Peter said, making you smile.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“So lets do it!”

Peter started up the ladder without hesitation, but you knew there was no way you’d be able to make it up there without losing a shoe, so you carefully stepped out of them and then followed him up.

“Oh good,” Peter said when you reached the top. “You’re not an extra three inches taller anymore.”

“I like those shoes,” you pouted.

“And I like when I don’t have to give you a foot rub at night because you gave yourself cramps and blisters.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

You leaned against the railing of the tower, looking out across the street at your party that was still in full-swing. You knew you’d have to go back before things started to die down so you could say goodbye to your guests, but you figured you had a couple minutes to yourselves.

Peter stood behind you, arms around your waist and head on your shoulder. The silence was comfortable and calming, broken only by the occasional passing car. You leaned into Peter’s embrace, enjoying the quiet after weeks of chaos. Life would never move slow when you lived in New York City and had a superhero for a boyfriend, so you had to learn to appreciate these small moments.

“Are you ready to go back?” Peter asked after a handful of minutes had passed. .

“Yeah, I suppose so,” you replied, gathering your skirt to turn around.

“Okay,” Peter said, and you watched as he began a now familiar motion.

“Peter, don’t mess up your tux- yes, I’ll go back to the party with you, you don’t have to-”

Peter grabbed your hand, and when you looked down into his eyes, something was different. There wasn’t playful laughter there, but serious sincerity. Your mouth went dry.

“The last two and a half years with you have been better than I ever could have imagined,” Peter said. Your heart was thundering in your ears. “Doing what I do, I never expected to meet someone who was willing to- to put up with that. To support me. You have been the best support I could have asked for. No one makes me laugh harder. No one is more patient with me. No one makes me feel more loved.”

You squeezed Peter’s hand with your shaking one.

“If you’ll let me,” Peter continued, “I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel just as happy, supported, and loved.” 

Peter fumbled into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a box, laughing at himself a little as he struggled to flip it open with his thumb. You weren’t laughing.

“Will you-”

“Yes.”

Peter smiled brightly. “I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“Sorry. I’m the worst. Go ahead.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

Peter stood up and wrapped his arms around you kissing you and brushing the tear off your cheek. He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto your finger. Then you grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him again. You felt like your heart was about to explode out of your body. 

“I love you,” Peter said against your lips. 

“I love you more.”

[writersrealmbts]

Protect Them-Hybrid AU: Part 9

Description: Safe with Me Sequel! You work two days a week teaching kids the joys of learning and reading, your favorites being the triplets. When the triplet’s adopted older brother is the one that starts picking them up, you’re not sure what life just handed you but you’re pretty sure it’s just another little slice of heaven. Hoseok x Reader.

Warnings: I don’t even know, if you do, let me know and I’ll change the warnings.

Posted: 02/24/2019

Tags: Hybrid!au, hybrid!Hoseok, Safe With Me Sequel

Angst with fluffs: 2,496 words

A/N: Happy Part Nine! I’m weak and I’m posting early because I got responses to the quick census. I think you’ll be happy with the next part, which I will likely post on Wednesday! 

“It’s likely you had a complex-partial seizure,” The doctor said, smiling kindly. “I’ve looked at your file, and it’s possible given the damage caused to your brain in the accident. Your doctor even listed it here as something he was concerned about as a side effect. You’re lucky, you could have had a grand mal seizure. You’re normally on these medications, since the accident anyway?” He set a list in front of you. You read over it and nodded. A seizure. Of course. It made sense now. You had trained to help kids who had seizures as part of your first aid certification and now that the doctor said it all of the symptoms made sense. “This one is to suppress nerve pain, and is also used for people with epilepsy. It’s likely taking this prevented you from showing symptoms earlier. Or that you had similar seizures before and were unaware that they occurred. I’ve sent down these prescriptions for you, given the circumstances you’re in, and you should be able to pick them up on your way out at the pharmacy on the first floor.” “But she’s okay?” Hoseok asked. “I’d have to run more tests, but considering the seizure lasted under five minutes, I think she’s fine. We’ll get her back on her medication and hopefully that keeps them from happening again.” “Thank you,” You murmured. You were exhausted. “No problem. Get your prescriptions, get home, get some rest. Both of you. Kids, would you like stickers?” All three perked up, tails wagging excitedly, thanking him when they got their stickers. It was dark out when you pulled up to the summer house. Thankfully, your seizure had ended in the store, and you had insisted on checking out before going to the walk-in clinic (the closest thing the town had to a hospital). Hoseok had stopped and gotten pizzas for dinner because there was no way either of you were cooking. You had to direct Hoseok where to find the key in the treehouse from the ground, guessing more than anything, but he eventually found it and you all entered the house you used to come to every summer. It was nicer than you remembered, and looked like the interior had been remodeled in the past few years. “It’s nice,” Hoseok said, looking around. “Alright, first things first, get the kiddos set with some dinner. Y/n, you sit and eat too. I can handle bringing things in and making beds if you get them into pajamas.” “Deal.” You helped him put slices of pizza on plates for the kids and yourself, then sat with them at the table in the breakfast nook to eat while they ate. Minsu and Kaemon picked the pepperoni off, and Kae gave his to his brother. Nari ate like normal. Then after Minsu finished his piece of pizza, he ate the pepperoni. You got them into their pajamas with very little fuss, and managed to take a shower and change into your own pajamas, only needing Hoseok’s help to get the brace back on (while he ranted about how you could have hurt yourself). He then insisted on blow-drying your hair, at least partially. You then helped him tuck the kids in. They had all fallen asleep with Minsu in the end, an hour earlier than their actual bedtime. Then Hoseok carried you into one of the other bedrooms and tucked you in, seeing that your medicine was kicking in. But you would swear that you felt him kiss your forehead before he left. The first day at the summer house the kids were blissfully unaware of the trouble surrounding their trip to this magical place. They loved that they could play in the shallow waters, and Minsu had caught about five frogs by now, and all three of them adored the treehouse. Three days in the summer house had passed with relatively little to worry you or cause problems. Except Hoseok, but he was an eternal problem that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fix. He seemed hyper aware of you now, checking on you periodically, making sure you were okay, but even when you were perfectly fine and it showed—as you played with the kids happily—he seemed to have this look in his eyes that haunted you late at night. It was the fourth day at the summer house that you walked down to the corner market and got a paper, seeing the headlines. The lady who owned the market sent her twelve-year-old daughter to get Hoseok for you. “What happened? Did you have a seizure?” He asked the moment he entered the store, the truck parked outside the doors. You handed him the paper, a lump in your throat. “It’s over.” He frowned and read over the paper, confused about why you would be so upset, until he finished reading the title of the article. He inhaled sharply. “Your sister.” “Guess she really did change,” You choked out. He hugged you close, tight. “She was protecting you. She died to protect you.” “We should get back. The kids.” “Yeah,” He agreed simply, picking you up and carrying you to the car while you protested weakly. “Don’t deprive me of one of my few pleasures in life.” You snorted, but didn’t argue any further. You didn’t know how you felt, other than conflicted. On one hand, you could literally only count the nice things she’d done for you on that one hand. On the other, she was your sister. Your family. You powered your phone on, and texted Emma the address. An hour later, the triplets were screeching with joy, throwing themselves into their parents arms and being adoringly smothered by said parents. Four hours later and all of you were back at Emma and Jin’s, the kids running to Jimin, Jungkook, and three hybrid men you didn’t know, one of which had a very young toddler in his arms. Hoseok stuck beside you the whole time. It was in the evening that you and Emma were talking, Hoseok gone from your side. “She was working for the organization that was against us, the one that broke that vile thing out of jail. But she leaked all the information that they needed to take everyone down. She’s a hero. But that doesn’t mean that what she did to you in the past can be forgotten,” Emma said thoughtfully. “Some scars run deep.” You sighed shakily. “She was finally reaching out, honestly and good-naturedly. And now I won’t ever be able to find out if she really wanted to be in my life again. I won’t be able to replace the litany of terrible memories that she’s left in my mind with good ones. I think that’s honestly more upsetting to me. She finally changed, we might have finally had the chance to be and act like siblings and now the chance is gone. And for me, it seems like everyday I lose just a little bit more. I don’t know if I can take it.” “Oh, honey,” She sighed and held you a little tighter. “It’s going to be okay.” “It’s not,” You whispered, closing your eyes as the tears filled them. “What else is bugging you, hon? Hmm? Because I don’t think this is about your sister.” So you told her, everything from being afraid of living alone now that you apparently had seizures (even with the medicine), to how you felt like your heart had been ground into dust over Hoseok. How his smile made you feel like life was worth living, but knowing that he would never in his right mind give it to you made you feel like you were dying. You told her about your worry over finding a new job, a place to live, everything. All while crying your eyes out. She didn’t say much, small comforting things, mostly just letting you get it all out now that you were safe. She waited until your sobs were hiccups, and your tears had slowed. You were sort of limp in her arms, finding comfort in her. “You should talk to Hobi about it,” She finally said, gently brushing your hair from your face. “I know it’s scary, and I know it feels like too big of a risk right now, but if you don’t, you’re going to really hurt yourself in the long run. You can wait until you’ve recovered, but I think the sooner you do it the better it will be.” You nodded, then cracked a smile as she directed your hand to where one of her twins was kicking a tiny bit. “How are you doing?” “Well, normally twins come early, so I’m sort of worried, but the doctors were constantly checking on me at the sanctuary. If I don’t go into labor within the week, they’re going to do a c-section. I don’t think it’ll come to that though.” You sat up, smiling at her. “Why’s that? Did you have spicy food or something?” “Mmm, I could really go for some curry now…” She murmured, then shook her head. “No, but I should probably get Jin in a while and head to the hospital.” You looked at her. “You’re way too calm for someone who basically just said they’re in labor.” “I was in the hospital for two days with the triplets before they were born. You learn how long you can wait. Besides, they’re all cuddled up with Jin in this big pile of blankets and pillows and it’s adorable. Then Jungkook and Jimin joined them and it was even more adorable, so of course Hoseok joined them as well. Lots of good memories, and plenty of pictures.” She showed you one that she had taken. You grinned. She smiled at it as well, sighing. “Jungkook seemed so little when he first came, and grew so fast.” “The man that did those things to Hoseok…” “Tried to break into the Sanctuary. Thought he was there.” “And?” She shifted. “Jin put two bullets in his chest, and the police put a third in his head.” Her voice was surprisingly cold. “Good,” You said. She nodded slowly. “The files your sister released showed that Hobi was the first to survive him. Yoongi would have been killed too if he hadn’t been so strong. I’m not saying killing him was right, but I couldn’t sleep knowing he was out there somewhere. Hurting someone. Even if he had lived, he would have received the death penalty. He just got it a little sooner than he expected.” “Eomma?” Hoseok poked his head into the room, then froze, looking between you and Emma. You could see how he wanted to rush over and find out what was wrong, itching to try and comfort you because he couldn’t help it. He instinctively needed to protect you, that’s what he said. “Hey, Hobi. You okay?” She asked, her voice softer. He nodded tersely. “Everything okay here?” “Yeah, we’re just having some girl-talk. Can you go wake Jin, Hobi? Tell him we need to head to the hospital?” “Why?!” His tail fluffed out, eyes wide. She laughed softly. “Had to have these babies sometime, Hobi.” His shoulders relaxed dramatically. “Oh, right. Got it. I’ll go wake him up.” He handed you the box of tissues, then left. She lightly rubbed your back. “You okay?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine. You just focus on your babies,” You told her, leaning on her shoulder. “You try to relax. Don’t worry so much about you and Hobi. Everything will work out for the best.” You nodded, watching somewhat helplessly as she stood up and headed toward the hallway, slipping on her flats and her coat serenely as she waited for her husband. Jin came quickly with a bag, dressed again, and he kissed her. “You ready, baby?” “Yeah, honey. I’m ready. Hobi…” “I’m in charge, I know the drill. I’ll bring the kids in when you call.” He kissed her cheek, nuzzling it lightly. “Love you, Eomma.” “Love you too.” She looked over at you and smiled reassuringly. “Make sure she gets to bed at a decent time, yeah?” “I will.” He smiled at you. His hair was a bit messy from his nap and you just wanted to run your hands through it. Your heart ached as you watched how lovingly Jin looked at Emma as they left, the way he seemed to know what was enough attention and what was too much. You wanted something like that. You had something similar, but his heart wasn’t actually in it. Just his instinct. You wanted it because the other person loved you, really and truly loved you. And someone as amazing as Hoseok was way out of your league. “Hey, you still with me?” He asked, crouching in front of you. You nodded, giving him a fleeting smile. “Yeah, just…kind of jealous of her and Jin, you know?” He broke into a grin as he chuckle. “I do know. I mean, they have everything. Even if the past week has been absolutely crazy. They have the house, with the yard, and three angels sleeping upstairs with their adopted kids while they go to the hospital to give birth to two more angels. You know, they’re actually married? It’s so rare in the world of hybrids to actually get married, most just mate.” “But she’s human,” You pointed out, shrugging. “Marriage is something we sort of dream about. Some don’t see it as necessary and others believe it very necessary or right, or just plain romantic.” “What about you?” You dared to glance at his face for the very smallest moment. “I don’t know. When I was younger I dreamed about a wedding. My dad walking me down the isle, I’d have a sunflower and lily bouquet, and my family would be getting along. My mom would cry, and my sister would be my maid of honor. Instead, my father and sister are dead, and my mom is in jail and has refused every attempt I’ve made to visit her because I turned her in. And I’m allergic to lilies. I can’t even really walk.” “You’re getting better,” He reassured you softly, his eyes sad as he gently held your hand. “Am I?” You asked, then sighed. “It just feels like it never ends.” He nodded, then got up before picking you up. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, after you get some sleep. Do you want to go to the hospital with us?” You shrugged. “It’s a family thing. I don’t want to intrude.” “You won’t be intruding. You’re part of this family now.” He helped you pull the covers over you. “Besides, they’re going to be cute kids.” “They’ve got good genes,” You replied, half-asleep already. He whispered something in reply, kissing your forehead, but you were drifting to sleep too fast to make it out.

Masterlist.  ~  Part 8.  ~  Part 10.  ~  Masterpost.

Tagged: @jiminslye @musicandmusing @it-is-dana @kimmie113080 @bluebirdphantom

[besidemethewholedamntime]

most sane and sunly 

Happy New Year @recoveringrabbit ! It’s me, Rebecca, your secret santa! This is very belated but Merry Christmas! I had a lot of fun writing your gift and I hope it’s alright. Your prompt was beautiful and gave me so any ideas and in the end I went with this one. I hope 2019 brings you all the best for a wonderful bean like you! Thank you! 

Summary:

'“Fitz?” She calls, heart in her throat. Disappointment at this stage would kill her, surely. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it bloody be?” He shouts, but then grins and it’s like the sunshine has come early but of course it hasn’t, for when she runs out to meet him she can still feel the raindrops on her face, only she doesn’t care.'

Sometimes it takes a little while for the things we love to come home, but eventually they always do. A historical au for the lovely bean that is @recoveringrabbit for the secret santa gift exchange!

{Read on Ao3}

or you can read it below if you don’t wish to on Ao3!

It’s raining.

Jemma’s noticed that, lately, it always seems to be raining on a Tuesday. It starts around nine in the morning with a  light drizzle, progressing to full on torrential downpour by lunch. After that it’s a steady downpour until around three, where, quite suddenly, the water seems to stop, like somebody has turned off a tap, and the most brilliant sunshine fills the sky. Of course, by then, everything is wet and nobody wants to go outside and it’s far too late in the day to accomplish anything meaningful but all the same Jemma finds it quite beautiful.

She is waiting for the sunshine when he comes back. An empty bandstand stands in the centre of the park, and provides adequate shelter even during the worst of downpours. It’s peaceful here, nobody wanting to be outside during the horrendous weather, and so during the drizzle she makes her way out here with her book and notebooks and textbooks and stays until the late afternoon sunshine makes it so she can go home. The war has left her without a job and eager to return to her studies, though many disapproving of that choice. The peace afforded to her on these wonderfully rainy Tuesdays are something she does not take for granted.

At first she doesn’t see it’s him. It’s September, for a start. Many who are going to return have already done so, and those too wounded have not been prophesied to return for a good while yet. She hasn’t heard from him, is another thing. The last letter was almost six months ago, the last time she laid eyes on her best friend was over a year ago. Every day since victory was announced she has held onto hope that he will contact her in some way or another but months have passed and every day, quite without meaning to, she feels the hope grow looser on her fingers and she is so desperately afraid that one day it’ll slip away forever.

“Jemma?”

The voice seems to be her imagination at first, the result of many lonely hours sitting on this uncomfortably hard seat. There can’t be anybody out here in this rain. Only a fool like her would venture out into it. Sighing, Jemma moves her neck from side to side without looking up and goes back to reading.

“Jemma? Is that you?”

Surely she can’t be this tired. True, she didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, but not so little that it would warrant imagining this much. She shakes her head and picks up something new from her pile. Perhaps a different sort of stimulation is the answer.

“Bloody hell, it’s tipping it down. Jemma Anne Simmons!”

Now that voice and that special kind of grumpiness she would know anywhere and her head snaps up at the familiar sound she hasn’t heard in so long. It can’t be… but it is. A lone figure in Army greens, walking with a slight limp, with longer hair and a beard she doesn’t remember is coming towards her and she squints to make doubly sure through the rain.

“Fitz?” She calls, heart in her throat. Disappointment at this stage would kill her, surely. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it bloody be?” He shouts, but then grins and it’s like the sunshine has come early but of course it hasn’t, for when she runs out to meet him she can still feel the raindrops on her face, only she doesn’t care. How could she, when her best-friend is back from what she was almost sure was the dead?

“Fitz!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him, mindful of the force she exerts on his body. “You’re back. You’re properly back.”

“’Course I am.” Except his voice wavers a little bit and it sounds like there was a time when he wasn’t quite sure he would be. His arms come around her, so sure and strong, and he presses a kiss on the top of her hair. “I’ve missed you, Jemma.”

“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” she mumbles into his shoulder, not caring that there are tears in her eyes and most likely snot on his uniform. It’s not like he’ll need it anymore. She pulls back, shakily wiping her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re home. Just out of the blue like this!”

He smiles nervously, letting go of her to rub at the back of his neck. “Yeah, me neither, if I’m honest. Wasn’t expecting to get away this quick.”

A downward glance at his leg and she remembers suddenly what she noticed moments ago. “Oh, Fitz, your leg! What happened?”

A laugh that’s not quite a laugh at all. “A bit of a long story, that one.” He looks past her to the bandstand. “Do you mind if we sit down? It gets a bit sore if I stand for too long.”

Jemma suddenly realises that it’s still raining torrentially and she is only in her lightest of jackets and, by now, is soaked something terribly. Her hair is plastered to her face and she has to swipe it away in order to continue to marvel at Fitz. “Of course. Here, I’ll help you.” And offers her arm, which he accepts with a grateful smile. The weight he exerts, she notices, is considerably lighter than what it would have been the last time she saw him. Casting a critical eye, Jemma takes in his hollow cheeks and papery eyelids, but says nothing.

Once under shelter she shrugs off her jacket and gives it to Fitz to sit on. At his doubtful look she points to the cushion that she brought for herself. Fitz only laughs and shakes his head, before shuffling onto it. Jemma recognises the look if relief on his face; the benches do not provide the most comfortable place to sit.

“Thought of everything, I see,” Fitz comments, stretching out his bad leg.

“I’m studying. My grandmother doesn’t approve and neither do many of her friends that always seem to be visiting so I come here to get some peace and quiet.”

Fitz nods with approval. “Good,” he says, matter-of-fact. “You’re too smart not to go to university.”

It’s almost embarrassing, but she hasn’t had encouragement in so long that tears begin to burn her eyes. She pretends to sift through her books so he won’t see. “I suppose we shall see about that. Working as a nurse for the past few years has made me rather rusty, I’m afraid.”

Not that she regrets it, of course. Tending to the wounded brought to the countryside to convalesce is not something to be regretted. Oh, how many things she has learned and taken from the experience. The importance of the simple things: a good cup of tea, the smell of the rain, a kind word and a hand to hold. All the same, it’s put her plans for university on hold for considerably longer than Jemma previously thought they would be.

“Jemma Simmons being rusty? Nah, I don’t believe it,” Fitz teases her, a familiar glint in his eyes. Something in Jemma’s heart settles into place. Something comes home.

“You should.” She smiles ruefully, but then shifts the conversation away from her, uncomfortable with the spotlight. “So, tell me all of it.”

An uneasy look comes across Fitz’s face. The light goes out of his eyes. “Not much to tell.” Even his voice is different, sounding shrouded, hiding something underneath.

“Oh, come off it. I haven’t heard from you in almost six months. Surely things have happened.”

“Well, yeah, things have happened, Jemma; there was a war on. Doesn’t mean you want to hear about it.”

This is when she knows he simply has to tell her, otherwise whatever it is will eat away at him for years and years to come. She shuffles closer, rests a hand on his knee.

“You’re my best friend, Fitz,” she tells him, quite quietly but ever so matter-of-factly. “I want to hear about everything.”

He looks grateful and with a deep breath and his hand griping hers, he begins to tell his story.

Once, when Jemma was a child and beginning her everlasting phase of curiosity, her mother had warned her that there were some questions you didn’t want to hear the answer to. There are some things you can’t unhear, Jemma, her mother had told her sternly. Some things you’ll hear and they’ll rattle about your head for years. One day you’ll learn that there are things you’re better off not knowing.

It had made no sense, because even with answers you didn’t want, you still had more pieces of the puzzle and could make more sense of the world with the whole truth. It had never made sense, until just now. Fitz’s shaky breath and choked voice surrounding the words that he speaks are almost too much, and Jemma’s horrified to find that, if she didn’t love him the way she does, she would have to ask him to stop.

For he tells her about the things he’s seen, the horrors he’s witnessed. He tells her of the emaciated refugees with paper skin and empty eyes. He tells her of the fellow soldiers, his brothers in arms, that were one moment beside him laughing and the next quite still and broken on the ground. He tells her of the explosion, of the burning oil and the flying shrapnel that seemed to come from everywhere, and of the painful months that follows where there was nothing he wanted more in the world than just to sleep forevermore.

And after there’s nothing she can say except, “You came back.” And how she wishes she was brave enough to add to me.

Fitz nods, running a hand under his eyes. “Came back.” Then he digs around in his inside breast pocket and produces something that Jemma cannot yet see. “Brought this, too.” He unfurls his fingers to produce a ring.

It’s nothing special. A simple silver band with the tiniest of stones set a little off-centre into the metal. There’s no sunshine yet, for it’s not quite late enough, but it sparkles absolutely magnificently.

“A ring,” she mumbles, though more to herself than to him. At first it doesn’t quite click, because why would it? They’ve been friends for as long as she can remember, done everything they could together. They’ve been through it all – even a war for goodness sake. Why on Earth would she assume he would want anything more?

And then she thinks and softly goes oh and realises that she’s answered her own question.

“I know it’s a bit quick,” Fitz says quite breathily, “and it’s nothing special. But the thing is, it’s been in my pocket for the last three years and I thought it was about time to give it to you.”

Jemma disagrees; she thinks it’s the most special thing that she could ever lay eyes on. With wide eyes, too afraid to touch it yet, she says, “You mean you’ve taken it everywhere?”

“Everywhere.” He coughs, runs his other hand through his hair. “I’ve wanted to give it to you for a while but I… I didn’t want you to be promised to a ghost.”

With teary eyes she looks up at him. There’s no word in her extensive vocabulary, nothing that could ever help put name to this feeling in her heart. “I um, I suppose that makes sense.”

He laughs a little, as if to say of course. “It’s lucky, really. I wanted to take care of the bloody thing ‘cause I was scared I’d lose it so I was extra careful.” His voice goes quiet for a second. “Got a lot to thank it for.” Then back to the way it was before. “I thought I lost it at the hospital there; they take all your personal stuff out of your uniform and it was in this torn bit of lining in my pocket but…” He stops, a little bit breathless, like he can’t believe it. “It was still here.”

Jemma, somehow, feels this relief, too. “Well, thank goodness for that.”

Fitz’s head snaps up; she’s rather surprised it doesn’t pop. “Really?”

“Yes.” She feels a smile grow of its own accord. “It would have.”

It would have been a shame, but the greater one would have been if he had never returned at all. Not a shame, but devastating in a way that would not be recoverable. A ring is something appreciated and adored but not essential. Not like Fitz.

While he has carried this ring to keep him going, she has only carried the memory of him, and constantly wondered if this is all she would have for the rest of her life.

“So,” he ventures, licking his lips nervously. She wonders what kissing him will be like. “Does that mean that you’ll marry me?”

Right now she feels as though she is floating; suddenly there is no uncomfortable bench beneath her cushion and her feet are not sinking into soggy soles. There is nothing except love love love all around.

However, she is still Jemma Simmons. Still logical and practical. Still knows what’s expected, after all.

“There’s nothing I would love more but, oh, Fitz, we’ve never even been to the dancing.”

They’ve been to the pictures and they’ve strolled in the park, and taken picnics at the beach; everything one would do with a significant other they intended to marry. They’ve just never been to the dancing at the town hall on a Friday night. She’s never spun with him, watching the rest of the room fade away, making it seem as though they’re the only two that could ever be.

It’s not important to her, not really. It’s what her grandmother would expect, and his mother, and all of those adults that have made it their business to have a say in what they do with their (quite grownup) lives. Though she tries not to, there’s still a small part of her that does indeed care of what they will think of an engagement quite sprung on them out of the blue, even if it is to their dear Fitz.

(Though, there’s also a part of her that thinks her grandmother will be quite relieved she is marrying anybody, for with Jemma insisting on going back to university, she had been worried that nobody would be able to deal with a girl much more qualified than they.)

“Oh, um, no,” Fitz begins slowly, looking down at his leg. “Don’t suppose we have been dancing, actually.”

She feels truly terrible, her heart sinking into her stomach like a lead weight. Putting her hands on either side of his face, resting her forehead on his, she tries to convey how sorry she is, the truth in her next words. “It doesn’t mater. I do not care. About any of it.”

“You deserve it, though.” Eyes closed, he breathes deeply; she rejoices in the warm air she feels over her face. Opens his eyes with fire int the blue. “We’ll go, we’ll dance.”

His determination stirs up such feelings of fondness she wonders how she’s never noticed it for all these years. For it’s always been there – these feelings are not new. They are as familiar to her as breathing, have been as reliable and sure like a heartbeat, rarely noticed but always giving life in the background.

“Alright.” She nods. “We shall go dancing.”

He grins. “You just uh, might need to carry me.”

“Oh, Fitz,” she laughs, closing her eyes to keep the tears gathering inside. “Always.”

He fumbles with the ring, and she cottons on that it’s supposed to go on her finger. It slides on without the least bit of resistance, just as she knew it would.

And finally, finally, it’s time to kiss him and it’s nothing like she thought it would be but that’s alright. It’s wonderful and fantastic and more.

“We’re getting married,” she tells him, giggling in a way that she only reserves for the most special of occasions.

Fitz, for his part, still looks a little shocked by it. “I suppose we are.”

There’s warmth on her face, and Jemma realises it doesn’t only come from within; the sun has come out early. She begins to gather up all of her things. Fitz takes a few minutes and rolls his leg from side to side but stands up and begins to help.

“Well, where to first?” He asks her, looking at her textbooks. “Soon to be Dr Jemma Simmons?”

“Dr Fitzsimmons,” she corrects, enjoying the immediate grin it produces. “I suppose we should get you to your mum – she’ll be ever so glad to see you.”

Glad is perhaps an understatement, for his mother is a woman who does not do things by halves. Jemma hopes she notices his leg before giving him a hug that will turn his bones to crumbs.

"I meant it, you know," she says suddenly, a desperate ache of need making itself known in her chest. Her callous comment has left her feeling empty. "That I would carry you. In all manners. Forever."

"Oh, Jemma." His voice is like honey - sweet and smooth and exactly right. It fills her and she is so glad in the sensation that it takes a second before she fully knows that it's love. "I know. Just like I hope you know that I'd carry you, too."

She presses a kiss to his cheek. "We'll carry each other." And she knows they will. They will carry each other the way they truly always have done. In their hands and in their minds and in their hearts until the time comes where there shall be no need for it because their bones shall be laid to rest in such a way that it will be impossible for them to become separated.

His mother lives a little outside of Perth, and so they begin to walk, arm in arm, to the bus stop. The raindrops make everything glisten in the surprisingly warm Summer sunshine. To Jemma, the world feels as bright and new as it ever could. Oh, how she cannot wait for their next adventure.

“It’ll be nice,” she tells him, feeling like she could float away, “just a fifteen minute bus journey and then you’ll be home.”

He laughs and she turns to him, expecting to see some sort of mocking look on his face. Instead there is only love and there’s only tenderness in his voice when he tells her, “I already am.”