#but…..hearing this felt like a punch to the chest. I went numb so fast I barely noticed it.

[eternal-carat]

Well this one fucking hurts.

[enid-rhees]

bulletproof love || enid rhee x fem!reader

summary: you take a bullet for enid.

warnings: reader getting shot, blood, near-death. angst. one sexual joke (reader is a little shit)

a/n: hope you all enjoy! as always, if you’d like to request, just read pinned for all info! 🫶🏻 this is kinda long so bring ur snacks and drinks. also yes the title is based on ‘Bulletproof Love’ by Pierce the Veil 🫶🏻 story is not based on it though!

it would never be truly over, would it? no matter what you did, The Saviors always came back.

nothing would ever go back to normal, you’ve come to finally accept it after denying it for so long. as long as The Saviors lived, they’ll be sure to make the rest of your life miserable. you were sure of it.

gunshots filled your ears. you heard screaming, groans of pain coming from those who have just gotten shot, and it was all blending together in your head.

you’ve gone through this too many times to be scared, but to be honest, you were terrified. you were tired of living like this, having to fight every other week just because Negan can’t get over himself.

it felt like your body was in autopilot, every time a savior was mere feet in front of you, your wrist snapped up and shot them right in the head.

you ran, trying to find another area to hold out. someone grabbed you by the neck from behind and pulled you towards them. you gasped for air, trying to reach for your knife. you managed to barely get a grip on it and charge it backwards, stabbing them in the stomach. they let you go and fell to the ground, so you took out your gun and finished the job.

you fell back against a wall, trying to catch your breath before running back out there to help everyone. you quickly dug into your pocket and reloaded your gun with the remaining ammunition you had left.

when you ran back to where all the action was happening, another person immediately started to come for you. they put their fist out for a punch, but you caught their fist and bent their arm the other way. they screamed when you heard the crack, which made you smirk a bit. you pulled them against you by their (now) broken arm and pressed your gun into their head, not even flinching when their blood splattered on your face.

you looked around, trying to find anyone in your group to see if they need help. everyone was busy fighting their own battles. when you turned to your left, you finally spotted your girlfriend. but when your eyes shifted to in front of her, your heart dropped.

the savior raised their gun, pointing it directly at Enid. your eyes widened, and your body officially shifted into autopilot. you ran as fast as you could across the grass. you ran in front of her, but when you did, the savior shot the gun. the bullet went through you, and you fell to the ground.

your mouth fell open as the pounding pain coursed through your entire body. you wanted to scream in pain, but you couldn’t. everything was going numb.

blood started pouring out from the space above your chest at a rapid speed. you coughed, and blood spilled out of your mouth as well. you barely felt Enid lift you up and take you into a hidden area.

Enid took off her flannel and pressed it to your chest, trying her hardest to stop the blood. she sobbed as your eyes slowly started to close.

“no- no, Y/N. stay with me! can you hear me?! stay awake, Y/N. i know you can, don’t- don’t close your eyes. keep them open, baby. please.” Enid begged, sobs leaving her lips every few seconds.

she lifted you up again, but by that time you had already gone numb. the last thing you saw in your blurry vision was Siddiq placing you on a bed. after that, everything went dark.

-

you were breathing, but barely. you weren’t awake yet either, no one was sure if you would. the gunshot was almost fatal with the amount of blood you had lost. the monitor beside you beeped slowly, indicating your heartbeat.

as Enid stayed by your side, holding your lifeless hand in hers, she cried into it. you didn’t waste a second running in front of that bullet for her, you knew what the risk was. she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

there was huge bloody bandage that laid across your chest, covering the gunshot wound.

the door suddenly opened, and Maggie, Michonne and Rick rushed in. when they spotted you in the bed, it was like all sense of emotion had been drained from their bodies. they stared with sorrow and nothing else.

Enid ran to Maggie, sobbing in her arms. Maggie held her tightly, trying not to cry herself to stay strong for her. “Siddiq?” Rick called out.

Siddiq walked out from behind the wall. his shirt and his hands were stained in your blood. Rick almost couldn’t bare to look at the sight. “what happened?” he asked.

Siddiq sighed, almost hesitant to say it. “Y/N took a bullet for Enid.”

Michonne’s hand went over her mouth. “it… it was nearly fatal.” Siddiq told them. “she’s alive. but she lost a lot of blood. so if she wakes up… she’ll be extremely weak.”

“if?” Michonne croaked out. you were practically a daughter to Michonne and Rick, you had been for years. there wasn’t anything you guys wouldn’t do for each other. “what do you mean if?!”

“Michonne, the bullet hit her right above her chest, she’s lucky to even be somewhat alive right now.” a shaky breath escaped Michonne when she tried to calm herself down. tears filled her eyes and her lips started to shake.

“i’m doing everything i can,” Siddiq told her. “but there’s not much left to do. all that’s left is to… wait for her to wake up.”

Enid pulled away from Maggie, wiping her bloodshot eyes. the amount of crying she had done in the last two hours didn’t even seem possible.

“were you guys fighting together, Enid?” Rick asked her. she sniffed and shook her head. “no. she came out of nowhere when the guy shot the gun. i didn’t know where she was before that.”

Rick ran his hands down his face, sighing deeply afterwards. “do what you can. i appreciate you trying your hardest for her.” Siddiq nodded, giving him a straight-lined smile.

“you should come home, Enid. get some food and rest.” Maggie spoke softly. Enid shook her head, “i’m not leaving.” she said sternly, although her voice shook from her previous crying.

“Enid,” Maggie sighed. “we just fought the Saviors again. you’re exhausted and we can see it. you need rest.”

“then i’ll sleep here. i’m not leaving. i need to be here when she wakes up.” she responded. Maggie stared at her with uncertainty before signing again.

“fine. i’ll bring you some food later.” Enid sat back down next to you, taking your hand in hers once more.

“you should all get rest.” Siddiq told them. “i promise i’ll give updates as soon as there is one.” he added. then he leaned in closer to them, “and i think it’s best to give Enid privacy and space with her. Y/N is her girlfriend, you know you would do the same if it was your significant other.”

they all stayed silent, but nodded. Siddiq was right. “alright, let’s go.” Rick said quietly. they followed him out the door, leaving you, Enid and Siddiq the only ones in there again.

-

it was the next day.

Siddiq removed the bloody bandage from your chest, replacing it with a new one. “she’s doing better than she was yesterday.” he said quietly, looking over at Enid, who was eating a small plate of food for lunch. “her vitals are better.”

Enid placed the food down, “so, does that mean there’s a higher chance of her… waking up?” she asked, a tint of hope in her voice. “slightly higher.” he responded.

she knew that was the best answer he could give her, so she gave him a small smile and nodded, just grateful that there even a higher chance.

“me, Rick and some others need to go out to find more supplies and medications. are you staying here?” Siddiq asked her, his hand on the doorknob as he waited for her response.

“yeah, i’ll stay here.” she answered. he nodded, reaching to grab a jacket before he left the building. it fell silent. it was just you and Enid now. 

Enid sighed, taking your hand into hers. she brought it to her lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. she then leaned her head on them sighing deeply.

she looked back up at you, “god, i hope i don’t sound crazy talking to you like this.” she mumbled, letting out a light chuckle afterwards. “i know you can’t hear me, but maybe this will help you wake up.”

“remember our first date?” Enid asked, her smile growing wider as she looked back on the memory.

“i remember how nervous you looked. of course- we were only teens and didn’t know how to have a relationship when our biggest worry was the apocalypse. we just knew we fell in love and wanted to be with one another. your hands were shaking when you handed me a flower that you found in the garden, and you said it was almost as pretty as me… but you said that could never be possible.” tears started to flow down her cheeks, the drops landing on your intertwined hands.

“our first kiss was during that date too, and i could never, ever forget that. it was so… magical. you kissed me so softly, scared you were going to scare me off. but you didn’t. and you never will.”

Enid quickly wiped her eyes, but it didn’t stop more tears from falling down her face. “can you believe we’ve been together for seven years? it still feels like yesterday when you walked through those gates, covered in dirt and blood. but i was still so entranced by just your presence. you were distant, but that just made me want you more. we were so alike in so many ways.”

upon arriving in Alexandria, you were distant towards Enid. you refused to get close to anyone you didn’t know, scared of the inevitable: death. Enid was the same way, but that only pulled you closer to each other. you weren’t even in Alexandria for a month before you and Enid got together.

“and our one year anniversary, you made it so special for me. you were upset that you couldn’t take me to a fancy restaurant, but you still made me the most amazing dinner i’ve ever had. you have no idea how special that night was, i often have dreams about it. and just, endless dreams about you.”

your hand twitched in Enid’s grip, and she looked over at you with wide, glossy eyes.“Y/N?” she whimpered. Enid stood up, holding your cold cheek in her other hand, “Y/N, it’s Enid. baby, it’s me. wake up.”

you didn’t move again, “Y/N, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” she pleaded. after a minute, you lightly squeezed her hand back. a few more moments passed, and then your eyes slowly opened. a sob left Enid’s lips.

your eyes looked around the room vacantly before they landed on Enid. “Enid?” you rasped out, suddenly feeling a harsh burn in your throat. “oh my god, Y/N.” she cried out.

she leaned forward, holding you in a hug, but the sudden move caused you to gasp out in pain. Enid instantly let go of you, looking at you with concern and fear. “i’m so sorry. i- Siddiq isn’t here- i’ll call him! just give me a moment, hon.” Enid rushed to the other side of the wall, digging through the counter for the walkie.

when she found it, she turned it on and flipped through the channels until it was on the correct one. “Siddiq!” she whisper-yelled into it. “Y/N’s awake, and- and she’s in a lot of pain. i don’t know where you are but i need you to come back.” she pleaded, her heart racing.

static came through the walkie before Siddiq spoke, “we’re not close enough for me to get back there in time. just- listen to me, okay? there are pain pills in the cabinet right above where you found this walkie, give her two, and make sure she has a lot of water. there should be a few bottles of water there as well.” he instructed. Enid took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

“okay- got it. thank you, Siddiq.” she responded, turning off the walkie before he can respond back.

Enid reached into the cabinet above her and grabbed the pill bottle. twisting the cap off, she poured two pills in her hand and then grabbed a water bottle from a cooler.

she ran back over to you, and saw you managed to sit yourself up, although you looked worn out just from doing that. Enid sighed, setting down the water and sitting next to you. “should’ve asked for my help, baby. you’re too weak to move like that”.

“was uncomfortable.” you whispered, looking at her with half-open eyes. Enid showed you the two pills in her hand, “Siddiq told me to give you these. i have water for you as well. these will help with the pain.”

she helped you take the pills, handing you the water bottle so you were able to swallow them down. you winced at the burn in your throat when you did swallow them.

“so you dream about me, huh?” Enid’s eyes widened. even while you were in the worst condition you’ve ever been in, you still managed to be cocky with her, like always. “you heard that?!”

you chuckled lightly, “i heard… a bit of it yeah. mostly the last part, about our one year anniversary.” you told her, unable to stop the smile that painted your lips. “i meant it.” Enid said, “i dream of you every night.”

“explains the moaning.” you said cheekily, but Enid’s face flushed. “what?! i-i moan? i-i promise i-“

“holy shit Enid i’m fucking with you.” you laughed. her jaw dropped, “you just got shot, almost died and you’re already acting like this.” she said in disbelief.

“my humor never dies.” you said back. “yeah, i can tell.”

it went silent after that, but you spoke up again after a few moments. “i wanna apologize for what i did, but i’m not going to because you’re alive and that was my only goal.”

Enid nodded, “i can’t argue with you… i would’ve done the same. i’m just glad you’re alive, Y/N. Siddiq told us there was only a chance you’d wake up because of where you got shot.”

“definitely was not aiming for him to shoot me in the chest…” you trailed off with a chuckle. “but, either way, you were safe and didn’t get hurt. that’s all i needed.”

you looked at the bed, “can you help me move over a little to the left?” Enid didn’t need to be asked twice and helped you move over, “okay, now sit.” you said, patting the now empty space on the bed.

“what?” Enid laughed, “lay with me. that’s why i moved. i want you to lay with me.” Enid’s heart warmed at that, and gently sat down next to you.

you dropped your head on her shoulder, intertwining your hands between your legs. “i love you a lot, you know that?” you asked.

“i know, sweetheart. i love you too.” Enid pressed a soft kiss to your head. you yawned, but quickly put a hand on your chest due to the pain it caused.

“you should rest, love.” Enid told you. “as long as you nap with me.” you said back. she laughed, “okay, okay fine.”

the two of you got comfortable the best you could in the bed. Enid held you as gentle as possible, as if you were going to break. you fell back asleep first, and Enid watched you with adoration. with one more lingered kiss to your head, she closed her eyes, falling asleep soon after you.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Blossoms of Love (chapter 8)

cracks and crashes

Pairing: soap/ghost

tags: angst, plane crash(s), panic attack, gore, hurt/comfort, hanahaki

please look at the provided tags above ^^^ if you don't think you can read it but still want to follow drop a reply or send an ask/message and I'll be happy to give a light summary. (fyi these tags will be a common occurrence in this story) please be safe yall.

Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || chapter 7

Ghost groaned awake with the rattling of the cabin, and howling wind just outside the metal walls. He vaguely recognized the tense soldiers clutching at the straps in the seats in front of him, but none of them were from the 141. No Gaz and price, they must’ve been on another assignment- no. no that wasn’t right, they were on a mission that was supposed to be just the 4 of them. So where were they? Where was Soap? He was always accompanied by Soap, Price knew they worked best together. So where was he? Why was he here with these men? Who was shaking him so frantically?

“Johnny?” he got no response.

When he looked over to see who it was, he was met with a plain beige colored mask and frantic hands waving in his face. This was most definitely not soap. It was someone he knew. Someone who scratched his memory in a certain way. Someone who his brain tried to keep him from remembering. Someone. Someone. Someone. Someon- ROACH! Roach was trying to tell him something, but his mind was sluggish, and his hands were moving too fast.

“Roach slow down, I can’t- I can’t understand you.” the hands stopped abruptly.

‘SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE PLANE!’ Roach signed rushed, but clearly.

“Shit. ok, strap in.” he said, as he stood to get the attention of everyone else on the plane. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the cabin shook violently, nearly knocking him into Roach’s lap, he righted himself quickly even if he knew he’d catch him. Yellow plastic dropped from the ceiling.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We’ve been hit! I repeat! We have been hit by enemy missiles!” came through the intercom above.

“Everybody strap in!” He sat in a seat only a space away from Roach.

There was a metal on metal sound, and immediately the plane rocked to one side. For one eternity-moment the plane rotated nearly 90 degrees. And then they were weightless as they nose-dive spiraled towards the ground. Roach grabbed onto his hand in search of reassurance, and he gave it freely, squeezing back.

Outside the wind found a catch in the metal, and tugged. The metal ripped and rolled, like an aluminum sheet. It pulled away from the plane, exposing the cabin to vicious winds. Winds that tugged, and tore at hoods and loose clothing. Wind that yanked at gun slings and necklaces, that choked, and rubbed skin raw, and drew blood. Wind that dragged metal from metal, snapping bolts and welds. Wind that pulled seat from floor. Wind that took and took and took.

There was an awful groaning, screech that could have had his ears bleeding, had he been able to hear anything other than wind in his ears. The hand in his tightened to an almost painful degree, not that it mattered. The pressure along his arm, in his chest, multiplied exponentially, tenfold; only stopping as the straps holding him to his chair cut into his skin, and still it increased. It took him a moment too long to realize what was happening.

Then it was over, the moment ripped away, removing joint from socket along with it. He felt it, the pop as pressure released. He heard it reverberate through his skull, his arm went numb with debilitating pain, the air punched from his lungs. His hand was empty, his glove stolen away as well. His thumb hung at a wrong angle, the skin and a good chunk of meat had been ripped clean off his thumb and the outside edge of his hand. Blood immediately began pouring off his fingertips, as the wind pulled at the exposed flesh. But it was all mute to what he’d just witnessed

Roach was gone. Stolen away by the wind because it took half the plane, it took him. It. Took. Him. Took him. Took him. Took him. It all happened too fast and too slow. He barely knew what was happening before it happened. He should have done something. How was he just gone? He should have held on. Roach was right there. He should hav-

~~~~~~~~~

“-nning decent, wheels down in 30. Strap in if you haven’t already.” he woke with a start, as Nik spoke over the intercom. The cabin rocked just slightly, as he groaned and his racing heart began to slow, he blew out a tense breath.

“Oh sae ye’ll wake fer Nik, who isnae even ‘ere. But ah’ve been tryin’ fer the past five minutes and you wilnae.” soap exasperated with a smile.

“Sorry Johnny, not everyone wants to be greeted by a scot first thing when they wake up.” he teased, he couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t mind waking up to a specific scot every morning. Soap gasped fake offense.

“Ah’ll have ye know that Scotland is the country of the great unicorn, which everybody loves.” it was so… enduring? That it made his throat burn anew, choking off his words before they even came.

“Mhmm” he hummed, feigning skepticism, to cover his lack of ability to speak. He nearly rubbed the sleep from his eyes before remembering his mask, instead he pulled his mask back down and tucked it under the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at Soap’s disappointment, as he pushed himself up to sit properly in his seat. A few minutes later there was a thunk and a scarily unnatural putter of one of the engines, that set off a twinge of something unpleasant in his gut.

“-SHIT! We hit a flock o’ bloody birds! Prepare for a rough landing!” Nik’s voice rang throughout the cabin, as the plane shuddered.

His shoulder pinched with phantom pains, his breathing came out a little rougher, and his hand ached beneath its glove. He glanced over at Soap, he wanted him beside him; where he couldn’t fly away, and suddenly his chest burned and he couldn’t hold the hack that came out. He could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in his mask, which he didn’t acknowledge. It brought a single red-edged bit of green and a small mangle of red-pink lavender spindles, which he didn’t let escape his mouth. He couldn’t unless he wanted to really play into the vampire act. Instead he ground his teeth together and swallowed it all down in a thick, disgusting amalgamation of blood and plant fungus, Jesus maybe he really was a vampire. His face screwed up, he was an inch away from gagging it all up again, but a deep inhale through his nose beat the urge down.

“Come sit over here, Johnny.” shit. He said that out loud, didn’t he. “There’ll be less knockin’ ‘round over here.” Good save, Ghost. Real smooth.

“Aye, thanks fer tha heads up, L.T.”, Soap smiled at him as he moved. He nodded, already looking towards Price and Gaz, can’t show too much favoritism if his lie was going to have any sort or plausability.

“Cap! Gaz! You’ll save your necks a bit o’ pain over here.” he offered to the two, sticking to the bit. his knees knocked with Soap’s as he settled. Price and Gaz moved the few seats over with an appreciative nod, as the plane began to rattle around them.

The plane’s shaking grew more and more drastic as they continued their descent.. Well controlled crash. His hearing muffled for a moment before his ears popped, and then he was in a different plane with different people. He blinked and he was back, with three men and a well known pilot, clutching onto his chair straps with his leg firmly pressed into his sergeant’s. Soap pushed back with a grounding pressure that kept him in his own mind. He kept his gaze on soap’s face, cataloging the shades of blue in his eyes, the slight crook in his nose, the slight unevenness of his lips, the kink in his one eyebrow that the other didn’t have, the spider-webbing scar on his chin.

There must have been a glimmer of something in his eyes because soap hooked his ankle onto his leg, and pulled just slightly. He didn’t say anything about it, just studied his eyes. His throat burned and his lungs forced him to take over his own breathing, as the plane wobbled unsteadily towards the ground below. 

“Brace! Brace! Brace!” the intercom sparked into life with Nik’s warning. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, as he waited for impact. Soap hugged his leg tighter with his own.

The cabin bounced on the initial impact, and he thought he heard the sound of metal ripping outside. For a single horribly long moment he thought he was back in the air, spiraling out of control, and then he was flung into the straps along his chest. When he opened his eyes, blue seas were looking back, and Price was asking if he was okay; obviously remembering the last time he was in a plane crash. He wasn’t there, these eyes were blue not green, they were all okay.

He didn’t answer Price, not yet, not until interia tried to throw forward. Only then did he tear his gaze away from those blue eyes, to look at price and give him a firm nod. His fingers ached from the pressure that he was holding onto his straps, but he knew that the moment he pried them off they would shake like a leaf. He allowed himself a moment to breathe, before looking over the others.

“Everybody good?” He was first to speak, before even price. The litany of yes’s reassured him. He forced his fingers to loosen, to work the buckles loose, as he untangled his leg from Soap’s so he coils stand up.

“Nik, you still with us?” he clicked his radio on.

“Takes more than that to get rid of me, lieutenant.” The response came after a moment of silence. Everyone let out a tense breath at that.

He offered Soap his hand to help him up, as Gaz did the same for Price, and Nik appeared through the entrance to the cockpit. They all looked to Price now. It was his decision now, as captain, if they should continue on with the mission or not. The man let out a sigh, as the gears turned in his head.

“How far you reckon we are from original drop?”

“Not far. Few clicks maybe, spotted it on our way down, sir.” Nik answered. He nodded.

“And nobody’s hurt?”, he received a chorus of no’s. “Then we salvage what we can and set up camp, like we planned. I’ll let Laswell know we’re gonna need a new exfil once we establish communications.��, the ‘yes sir’s circulated before they all got started on the work ahead of them.

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

@checkerscharlie @halb-nichts @heyitsropi @trekkie-in-space @lavenderstem

[thetinylittlespider]

Tearing Up: Season 1

Chapter 3: Runaways

CW: Violence, Mature language, blood (Finally diminishing for now!)

KU-M9's POV

My body was cold, my muscles ached and shaked, my ears were not responding correctly to the sounds from my surroundings, the gunshot I heard was the last thing that I could get clearly. Everything that could've gone wrong went wrong. And unfortunately, my body didn't answered to my attempts to move. I was too scared.

My heart beating so fast, the cold feeling on my skin was gone but everything else went numb. And my eyes...Like vaults, holding something inside of them, something that felt horrible to keep in. What was happening?

"ALERT! CONTAINMENT BREACH LEVEL 2 AND 5! ALL SITE PERSONNEL MUST EVACUATE INMEDIATELY!" The voice came from the walls, loud and mechanic, joining the alarms and the crimson lights. Something had escaped? But what was it?

I tried to understand what was happening outside my enclosure, but when I looked up for my sister, in hopes for a response, she was not there anymore. She escaped? She left me here in this pool of blood and organs? Why did she spared my life? I couldn't even move if I wanted to. The glass on top of me that worked as a ceiling was starting to close again, after this...I was going to end up in this laboratory, for the rest of my life.

Or so I thought.

I could hear the man in the white mask being moved by his security guards, shooting at something that seemed to be attacking them, something that in a way ... scared them more than what was coming next to them.

A femenine voice could be heard, not in the obstructed sound that my ears could perceive, but a voice that I could clearly hear in my own mind, as it the sentence came out of my own imagination.

"They are all yours, take the vaccines and get out of here." Those were her only words before the room was filled with screams of pain, flesh being cut, stabbed, and torn apart.

Once my hearing came back on full function, I could hear a car at the distance, and another sentence that made no sense to me.

"Fuck! Fuck! I told you, idiots, she would break free eventually! I want a team to fix this whole damn situation! Get us out of here!" The masked man was incredibly angry, and the driver seemed to get that by how quick they left the place.

Ouch...

My chest hurts...

I found myself again overloaded by my senses, so much that I forgot my place, my own situation...The glass ceiling shut down any possible exit for me, I tried to run on adrenaline to ignore my body injuries and maybe, just maybe...Find an exit. Someone had killed everyone in the room. I could not survive trapped in here, for some reason, even when I was thinking about my death, tried to accept it...Right now I rejected it, I wanted to live, for what? I don't know. Where would I go? I don't know...I was defective, yes, It was impossible for me to survive out there, but I didn't want my story to end inside the walls of a lab.

I started to crawl on the wall inside the container, tried to stay stick, it was working...Slowly, but I was getting close to the glass, what was next? Trying to punch it? I have never punched anything before? But I guess there is a first time for everything...I need to make this one count, my injuries will not let me stay in the wall for long.

1, 2...3!

My fist hit the glass, not even causing a sign of breaking it...I was that insignificant.

1, 2...3!

I hit it again, with more strenght than before, my body shakes a little, the glass remains perfect, my feet and legs can't hold any longer to the wall. I remain dangling from my left hand, the next one should be the last attempt before I stay in this chamber, ready to die...

1...2...3!

Before I could give my last punch, a dark, colossal figure casted on top of me, it was a fist, coming down crashing the glass ceiling with almost no effort. I fell along with the shattered crystals, time felt slow...my eyes wide open by the surprise.

And before I hit the ground of blood and corpses of my siblings...a warm surface came in contact with my body, gigantic fingers covering me quickly but carefully from the glass, my heart stopped for a second, but the smell of human blood surrounding me...the familiar sense, now surrounding my whole body...

"S-Sister..." I said with a sore throat, trying to find rest in her palm, she has took the vaccine, at least one of them. She was complete now. Unlike me.

"Shhh...You are safe now, but we still need to get out of here, we were lucky that she also had plans of getting out." Yes, it was her, my sister. She had me...For a second, I tought it was my end. But, what was next? And what other person she was talking about?

She started to run, I could feel all her movements from my warm enclosure, every step she took shaking my whole body, every jump, every door and wall she destroyed that was in the way, until eventually, a new set of sounds kicked in, replacing the alarms of our prison. Her feet were no longer running on the metal and concrete that was the lab's floor. Now...something was...cracking beneath her, again, and again. Another sound...air? How? This sounded stronger, louder.

My curiosity made me move inside her hand, her fist was close enough to prevent me from falling, but the gaps in between her fingers let enough room for me to have a glimpse of the exterior. And it was surprising.

Surrounded by nature, green that I used to only see on pictures, now displaying into an infinite horizon...A dark sky, full of lights, and a glowing giant circle stealing the spotlight.

The space seemed limitless, like if there was plenty of room for us to travel, to discover...And the small amounts of fresh air that I could get were different in smell to the air I had inside the laboratory. I couldn't even describe the different pleasant smells that I was sensing. I just knew I wanted more. All I've ever knew for 15 years were white walls, a poster, and the same cruel hands that exposed me to all types of pain until my body couldn't handle more. I liked this.

"Stay still, I need to find a place...I don't want to crush you by accident." She said softly, still moving like crazy, but her grip got tighter so I could not move that much now, and my small view of the world was gone. Maybe I was in the darkness of her closed hand, but this time, it was safe, warm...a place to rest, and stop pushing my body off it's limits. It was hard to focus on rest when I finally had the idea of being...outside, free.

"Hungry..." I replied, feeling my eyes heavy, I was running out of energy. But I believed she had that covered, as soon as the last thing I heard before closing my eyes was . . .

"I will take care of it."

[artzee-bee]

End of all things [2] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: MIraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir)

Request:”Hello good evening, could you please do where a witch!Reader who always tries to comfort Chat/Adrian when he is feeling down. Cuz you know in season 4 I noticed he’s getting sadder and sadder. The reader doesn’t like to get involved in all these weird happenings and just lay low. Whenever Chat/Adrian comes to the reader’s house they always make him feel at home. That's when things go off, at the final battle where Hawkmoth got the Miraculouses and the heroes thought they would lose. (Y/n) just landed in front of them looking so done with Hawkmoth.Hawkmoth thinks that (y/n) was just a weakling, but he was wrong. (Y/n) is far stronger than Hawkmoth even he will use the all Miraculouses he’ll still lose.”

Genre: Angst

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: It is incredibly late right now, I hope this piece makes sense and that you like it! It was a cool request, but complicated for sure :))

Part 1

~~~

You could have sworn that time stopped altogether at that moment. Somehow, even though the disappointment of having lost and the worry you felt for your best friend, you found a little power to look at Hawkmoth. You expected him to be joyful, restless! You expected him to have already put on both the miraculouses and yet, they were resting in his palm. His eyes weren’t even on them.

“Adrien?” he looked at the broken boy on the ground

“We’re not over yet!” he yelled, running towards Hawkmoth as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter how much will to fight he had anymore! Adrien’s body was going numb. It was giving up on him. And Hawkmoth was gaining more power and energy with every second that went by. The villain grabbed the boy by the shoulder, immobilizing him to his chest, the same way you had done with Marinette

“You are weak and powerless without your ring, boy. Stop it at once!”

“No!” the desperation in his voice made your heart crumble

You felt Marinette stir in your hold. You knew she must have been awake and watching by now, but you didn’t let go. You had been unable to protect Chat from losing his powers, from wasting his energy by squirming in the arms of the enemy. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to Ladybug now! Because even if this was the end, even if they’d never get their powers back, Marinette and Adrien will always be Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

Tears fell from your face as you watched your friend kick and scream in fear and frustration. His hair was sticking to his forehead with beads of sweat

You weren’t sure what you could read within Hawkmoth’s facial expression, but you could tell it wasn’t the confidence from a minute ago. Neither the focus. You could still do something! Under your breath, you began to mutter a chant. You had never tried this specific spell before, but there was nothing left to lose. It was supposed to attract an object of your choosing, to you. Focusing on the image of the miraculouses, held captive in Hawkmoth’s iron grip, you prayed it’d work.

“I don’t want to have to kill you Adrien!” finally, the boy managed to escape and take a few steps back

“What do you care? Just a moment ago you would have done anything it took to get rid of me and Marinette!” 

Hawkmoth turned around to face you almost instantly, noticing the movement of your lips. 

“Stop that!”

You saw his fist tighten and shake slightly. His fear was all the motivation you needed! Your chants grew louder and louder, more confident and powerful. Hawkmoth placed both his hands around the jewelry in an attempt to prevent it from reaching you. Finally, there was a chance you could still win this!

And then there was a hand on your mouth.

And a kick on the inside of your knee.

You fell to the ground in pain, as the person behind you pushed you harder against the concrete. Right then, was the first time you heard Marinette say anything that day. 

“Rena?” her voice broken with despair

“I've never akumatized a hero before” you heard Hawkmoth’s taunting laugh “Can you imagine the possibilities Y/N?”

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Rena was forcing you to the ground with all her force. You heard Adrien call out your name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You had to find a way out of this but exhaustion was catching up to you quickly. You weren’t used to fights! You weren’t used to such powerful spells within such a short period of time!

With all the strength in your body, you focused again on an imaginary spot, in the middle of it all. You closed your eyes and imagined the ball of energy growing bigger and bigger, somewhere between you and Hawkmoth. Winds picked up speed around you. You opened your eyes slightly, and all you could see was Marinette’s horrified look, but you didn’t care. Not anymore. As long as you were still conscious, the fight would go on. The ball of energy went off again, creating the same bomb effect as in the beginning of the fight. Rena flew off of you, allowing you to move just in time to see Hawkmoth fly into a tree, and drop not only the black cat and ladybug miraculouses, but the butterfly one as well.

It seemed like the magic brooch had come undone from the impact. All 3 jewels fell to the ground and Hawkmoth was swallowed by a purple light. As the detransformation came to an end, all that was left was an unconscious Gabriel Agreste

“Dad?” Adrien’s voice felt like a punch in the heart. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. His eyes turned almost red and he took off running after his father, but you were faster and caught up to him before he could reach Gabriel. You tackled him to the ground to prevent him from waking up the villain and possibly causing more chaos.

“Wait, Adrien, we need the miraculouses!”

“No, what I need is to talk to my DAD!”

“Adrien please!” you could barely manage to keep him from squirming underneath you

“Of course” Marinette replied slowly before holding out her hand. You let go of Adrien, but he didn’t get up. He just placed his right hand on top of Marinette’s, as she carefully slipped the ring on his finger, back where it belonged. 

You heard rapid footsteps come your way and saw Marinette run towards the miraculouses, picking all of them in her hand and hugging them to her chest.You couldn’t even imagine the relief she must have felt! She looked like finally, everything in the world was right again. It gave you hope! Adrien visibly relaxed as he watched her too.

“Can I have Plagg back?” he sobbed

Plagg flew out, looking sacred and in distress, but he tried to smile for his boy.

“I’m sorry Plagg.'' the kwami didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nuzzle himself in the crook of Adrien’s neck, in a hug. The boy placed his hand on top of him and began to sob quietly. Your heart sank at the sight and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall on top of Adrien again and wrapping him in another hug. You could hear every beat of his heart and every sorrowful tear rolling down his cheeks. The noise was so loud, you almost didn’t hear Marinette transform back into her heroine self.

You opened your eyes to see her tying up Gabriel, alongside Rena. She gave you a nod, letting you know they got it from here.

“Adrien?” Gabriel whispered slowly. It seemed like he had finally woken up. The boy beneath you slowly raised his head to meet the glance of his dad. Immediately, he pushed you off in order to run to him

“Father. It’s ok! It’s gonna be ok! It’s a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Adrien ran to him, hopefulness in his voice like he didn’t know he was merely kidding himself

“I did it for a good cause Adrien…”

“No...you didn’t” he insisted

“One day you’ll understand”

Adrien stepped away from the weak body of his father, suddenly horrified at the realisation that Hawkmoth was, indeed, no one other than his own dad. He turned around to see you and Plagg still on the ground where he left you. Tears were quickly making their way back into his eyes as he rushed to you, throwing himself into your open arms. Ladybug picked Gabriel up, and dragged him away, with Rena right on her tail.

Adrien’s cries were muffled by your hair, but his words were still audible, at least to you

“He was my father! All this time”

“I failed everyone”

“No you didn’t Adrien”

“You didn’t know”

“I let myself be vulnerable and gave him the opportunity to take away my miraculous! I could have lost Plagg forever! I let Ladybug down! She lost her earrings and got akumatized and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Stop Adrien. It’s ok. It’s all gonna be ok” you tightened your grip around his body “eventually…”

[cherienymphe]

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

~

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere. 

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear. 

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn���t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw. 

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle. 

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous. 

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?” 

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised. 

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​​ @gotnofucks​​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​​ @doozywoozy​​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​​ @ksjksjkv​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[animatedarchives]

S/O GETS INJURED WHILE FIGHTING

— 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎, 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈, 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈

author’s note: HELLO DARLING!! yes, of course you can! i’m sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy it :) siDE nOTE i’m so exCitEd because you are my first anon aHHH i love you so much thanks for requesting T^T <3 also sorry for making bakugo’s one so angsty LOL

Todoroki Shoto

You had just finished off the last of the villains on your side when your legs buckled and you collapsed with exhaustion

“Y/N!” Todoroki’s voice echoed from down the street

He used his ice quirk to get to you in the blink of an eye and immediately knelt by your side, completely forgetting about the villains he was fighting

“Are you hurt?” he asked, grabbing your arms with his large hands, gripping you so tightly with worry that the blood flow to your arms got cut off

“I’m fine,” you coughed weakly. “Just… tired…” you forced out

But it was obvious you were lying by the way you were practically gasping for air

Your eyes shifted to the approaching villains as they closed in on you two

Not even bothering to stand, Todoroki twisted his torso and hit them with a blast of fire

His face was stoic but fury burned ferociously in his eyes, insistent on not letting them get anywhere near you 

The villains crumpled to the ground, unconscious and you smiled up at your boyfriend proudly, forever impressed by his prowess

He turned back to you, anger now replaced with concern as he gave you his full attention

“Can you stand?” he asked, worry etched into every part of his face

You nodded and grimaced as you tried to get up with his help

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your ribs and you doubled over, grabbing your side

“You’re hurt,” he said, carefully laying you down on the ground, his left arm holding your body close to his

He gently pried your shaky fingers away from your ribs and replaced them with his right hand

You winced before letting out a sigh of relief, a cooling sensation spreading over your exposed ribs and numbing the pain

You stayed like that for a while; eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of Todoroki’s cool skin against yours

After you felt good enough to stand, Todoroki pulled your arms over his shoulders and piggy-backed you to the nearest hospital, where you stayed the night

The next morning, you woke up to a messy mop of red and white hair fast asleep at the edge of your hospital bed

He stirred as you ran your hand through his soft hair, his eyes tired from watching over you all night

When he realised you were awake and doing okay, he pulled you into his arms

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said, relief washing over him

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispered shakily as he embraced you tighter

Bakugo Katsuki

You gasped for air as a red flower bloomed under your costume from the deep gash in your side

“Weakling,” the villain spat, kicking you harshly in the stomach

A little blood escaped from your mouth as you coughed painfully

He raised his weapon, blade glinting menacingly in the moonlight as he prepared for the final blow

Just when you thought this might be your end, you heard your boyfriend’s voice ringing in your ears

“Y/NNNNN!!!!!”

You watched helplessly as Bakugo blasted the villain into oblivion, showing him the same amount of mercy you received - none

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER AGAIN! DIE YOU PIECE OF SCUM!” he screamed between blasts of his quirk

He attacked violently, blinded by rage and the will to protect you

He disposed of the villain quicker than he ever had before and rushed over to you, leaving your attacker groaning in pain on the concrete floor

Bakugo crouched down and held your limp body in his arms, his eyes swirling with so many emotions: anger, concern and fear 

“Why did you fight him?! You know you’re not strong enough to handle villains like that yet!” he raised his voice, unable to mask how truly worried he was

Although his words stung, you knew he was right

But you couldn’t help it

“If I didn’t distract him… He would have gone after you… Idiot…” you said through laboured breaths

His eyes widened in realisation; you were trying to protect him

He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he looked at the condition you were in, scolding himself for failing to keep you safe

“It’s not your fault, Katsuki,” you reached up and caressed his face gently. “I was careless.”

He leaned into your touch, a thin film forming over his eyes

“Don’t do anything stupid like that again,” he choked out

You nodded weakly as he wrapped his arms protectively around you

Shinso Hitoshi

Your hand went up to your temple, massaging it in an attempt to reduce the incessant pounding in your skull

You and Shinso had fought long and hard, side-by-side, and were eventually able to successfully apprehend the villains 

Now you were waiting for the police to show up and take them away before you called it a night

As you removed your hand from your head, you stared in shock at your fingers now coated with slick red liquid

“Man, feels great for people to finally recognise me as the good guy despite my quirk,” Shinso sighed contentedly 

He smirked devilishly at the villain that lay tied up on the floor before striding back towards you

“I think we did a pretty good job, huh ba-” his smile instantly vanished as he watched the thick liquid run down the side of your face

He hadn’t noticed it before, having been so concentrated on winning the chaotic fight

“I’m fine, Toshi,” you tried to reassure him as he examined your face closely

Your words proved void as you winced when he touched your face

You knew you had made a mistake

“Toshi, wait-” you called, but he wasn’t listening

His eyes darkened as he slowly approached the culprit

“Did you do this? Did you hurt her?” his voice low and dangerous

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the villain pleaded, trying to scramble away

Having answered his question, Shinso activated his quirk, eyes full of intent to hurt

“How dare you lay a finger on my precious Y/N,” he growled. “I’m going to make you pay.”

“Hitoshi, stop! You’re not the bad guy, remember? Don’t do it, you’re better than that! You’re better than him!” you shouted, trying to ignore the burning pain as you implored him to reconsider

He inhaled deeply, glaring daggers at the villain before deactivating his quirk

“Today must be your lucky day,” he said, face showing no emotion but venom potent in his voice

Shinso walked back and embraced you protectively as the police arrived

“Thank you,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head as he gently pressed the ice pack he retrieved from the officers to your temple

“I promise to always be the good guy, to protect you from the evils of this world,” he vowed

Keigo Takami

You and Keigo made such a perfect team, complementing each other in every way possible - even in fighting

Just as you were finishing off the last villain on your side, someone punched you from behind, sending you flying into a brick wall

The impact knocked the wind out of you and you collapsed on the cold hard ground

“Y/N!” Keigo cried  

Golden orbs ablaze, he fought off the remaining villains with new found strength

One of them sneaked out of his line of sight, determined to finish you off

But Keigo noticed and flew over at the speed of light, kicking him square in the chest

He stood defensively between you and the remaining villains, wings spread out as a protective barrier to shield you from their attacks

You tried to get up, not wanting him to fight alone, but the pain was too intense and your body refused to cooperate

However, your efforts proved unnecessary as Keigo finished off the last one with a bone-crushing punch

No longer in the presence of danger, your muscles relaxed and your body slumped down onto the ground

“Y/N! Are you okay?!” he asked as he knelt beside you, panting from exhaustion

You nodded stiffly, body still weak

He scooped you up in his strong, capable arms and stood up, carrying you bridal style

He held you so closely to his chest that you could hear his rapid heartbeat

“Hold on tight, dear,” he said

He waited for your hand to clench around his jacket before taking off to the skies, flying you to the nearest medical centre

The wind tousled his blonde locks as he glanced down at you worriedly, making sure you were okay

You closed your eyes and inhaled his comforting scent, smiling softly as you rested in his arms

[badgirlcovenrep]

atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

[dirtychocolatechai]

meet-cute | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.

This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖

Taglist is open

(gif from google)

There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.

That wasn’t too concerning at first...

But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy. 

Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.

The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you. 

His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries. 

How much longer-

“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”

The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable. 

She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.” 

The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.

Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately. 

He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...” 

Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.

A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.

He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.

“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?” 

Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”

It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.” 

Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.

“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.” 

“No, no, I know...” 

“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.” 

And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found. 

“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”

He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing. 

She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.

But not her, she cares.

Deeply.

He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.

Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.

“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.” 

Shit, she smells so good...

 “Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”

Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?

Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face. 

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?” 

“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.

The irony isn’t lost on him either.

How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.

The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”

The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.

“Can I have your number?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.

Great, I just hit on my vet.

No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.

When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.

But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills. 

Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.

Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch. 

Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).

The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it. 

“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.” 

Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”. 

[writemekpop]

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?  

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal​

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.  

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

[unwritten-ravenclaw]

Falling - Fred Weasley

(gif credit to owner)

Summary: George accidentally injures Fred’s significant other during a quidditch match

Trigger warning: falling from a height, injury, descriptions of pain

A/N: So this didn’t turn out the way I had planned. Fred was supposed to get properly angry at George, but when it came to writing that part I couldn’t think of any points he could make because he could’ve easily done the same thing? I thought about sending the idea to a better writer but wanted to have a go at it myself.

Fred couldn’t remember a time he was this angry at his brother. He was torn between the ache in his heart for seeing you in pain and rage toward George for being the one to cause it. 

The quidditch match had been off to a great start. You and Fred were on rivalling teams and were determined to thrash each other. Being on opposite teams made it all the more fun for the both of you as you were both very competitive, and it was even more serious as this game was the final match of the season. Which was also the reason George was playing more aggressively than usual. 

George knew that despite your dating his brother, during quidditch matches you were the enemy, so it was fair game to smack a couple of bludgers your way. But, unfortunately for you, he was a little over-excited. When one of your team’s beaters knocked a bludger his way, George’s first reflex was to whack it at you, as you happened to be hovering nearby - too nearby. George had underestimated the distance between the two of you and had hit hard and fast. The bludger hurtled towards you with a dangerous amount of force and collided with your kneecap. You cried out as the red-hot heat of pain spread through you. With one leg suddenly incapacitated, you lost your seating on your broom and tipped sideways off it towards the ground. 

The scene kept replaying in Fred’s head like a broken record as he hurried alongside your stretcher on the way to the hospital wing despite McGonagall’s repeated instructions to do otherwise. You had fallen before anyone in the crowd - teacher or student - could mutter a spell to prevent it. Your body hit the ground with an awful thump. 

Fred had put the game from his mind the moment he heard you cry out in agony as the bones in your knee were smashed. Hearing that cry was like a punch in the stomach. He was the first to reach you, landing roughly and sprinting over, his own broom discarded in his haste. But when he reached you there was nothing he could do - or if there was, he couldn’t think of it. Your face was pale and tears rolled down your cheeks faster than he had ever seen. He wanted to comfort you but he was reluctant to touch you in case you had been hurt further in the fall. He was helpless, just crouching beside you and watching you half-writing in the sand, making gut-wrenching noises.

“I’m here, love,” he’d heard himself say pathetically, but he’d had no room in his mind for any self criticism in that moment. He looked frantically around to see some of the professors rushing over, and he felt a vice-like grip suddenly grab his hand. He glanced down to see your wet, scared eyes looking up at him, your body trembling with pain. “They’re coming.” He began to reach out for you nut stopped himself. He could already feel his arm going numb from how hard you were squeezing his hand but he didn’t care. “It’ll all be over soon, I promise.”

George landed nearby and rushed over too, spewing apologies toward you as he approached. Fred grit his teeth and held out his free hand toward his brother without so much of a glance over his shoulder - the gesture was a warning; stay back, I’ll deal with you later.

The teachers crowded around you, asking questions and preparing to move you. You wouldn’t let go of Fred’s hand even when they told him to be elsewhere, not that he would have left you anyway. Your knee still felt like it was on fire and the pain spread outwards through your body, making you feel as though you were simultaneously freezing and burning up. Breathing heavily you felt you might never catch your breath.

The stands had been almost emptied and the Gryffindor team had tugged George away. The staff were ready to move you and they had a hard time of it due to the fact that you wouldn’t let go of Fred, who was glad he had two hands because he’d had to swap them several times or risk his circulation being cut.

When you reached the hospital wing you were unconscious, and Madam Pomfrey made Fred wait outside the door. He stood there impatiently twisted his fingers. He hadn’t felt so stressed in a long time. George appeared down the passage, some of the team straggling behind him, and Fred remembered he was going to rip him one. However, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. In truth, he could’ve made the same mistake. The whole team had been eager to win, and everybody knew that quidditch was a dangerous sport. Besides, he knew you wouldn’t want him to be angry with his brother over something like this. George began to apologise again, but Fred pat him on the back and shook his head gently.

Once you were awake and had finished being tended to, Madam Pomfrey decreed that you could have one visitor. You insisted that you were fine again and again, but you deduced that it was George’s sad expression that caused her to surrender. When she was preoccupied, Fred drew the curtains around your bed so he could climb in next to you and pull you carefully into his side. Your knee was all strapped up over your quidditch uniform and your leg was propped up on a pillow. Leaning into Fred’s shoulder you gave him a weak smile.

George, meanwhile, had gotten to his knees alongside your bed. He had gotten out of his own quidditch gear and was now wearing a jumper and jeans. He took your hand from the bed and clasped it in both of his own, trapping it. 

“I’m so terribly sorry.” You’d been about to say something, but he gushed on. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I’ll give you all my sweets from Honeydukes. I’ll get Dumbledore to give you 300 house points. I’ll carry you to all your classes!”

“Oi,” Fred protested.

“George,” you said finally. “It’s alright, seriously. I’ll take it as payback for all the times I beat the pants off you.” Which reminded you of something. You looked up at your boyfriend, a little too fast; he went blurry for a few seconds. “The match?” 

Fred shrugged. “I didn’t ask.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Honestly, the quidditch cup was the last thing I was worried about.”

“Aww,” cooed George. His gaze fell to your wounded knee. “How is it?”

“Definitely not as painful now. Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to dull it.” Both boys looked sombre and were now quiet. It was unsettling to see them this way, as you’d rarely ever seen them so. “Hm, might be nice to have a loyal servant.” You looked down at George and narrowed your eyes.

Fred looked astounded at this, throwing up his free hand that wasn’t holding you. “Excuse me, what am I?”

You and George laughed. “Two, then.”

“I thought your boyfriend was going to knock my block off back there,” George told you. “I knew your relationship was hazardous.”

Madam Pomfrey returned once more to shoo the boys off and give you another potion, but somehow you convinced her to let Fred stay a little longer, that it would aid in your recovery. She allowed it, but walked away tutting.

“Gave me a real fright, you did,” he said quietly as you tipped the potion back and swallowed it with a grimace. This one felt like ants crawling down your throat and tasted faintly like pickled eggs. “Falling out of the sky like that. And the noise you made... I felt like I’d come face to face with a dementor; my whole body went ice cold. I never want to see you in pain like that again.”

Your chest tightened at his words, imagining how it would feel if it had been him and you had been helpless to stop his agony. Bringing your hand up to cup his face you kissed his lips, and when you tried to pull away he chased them for more. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips when he finally parted from you. The words had never been more true than now. 

“I love you too,” he returned with a soft smile, bumping your nose with his own.

You sank deeper against him as he interlaced his fingers with yours. Beginning to realise just how drowsy you were from the potion your eyes started to droop as his fingers twirled a strand of your hair. You hoped Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t come back for a while yet.

[omidettol]

how it ended

pairings • timeskip!osamu x f!model!reader

genres • fwb, fluff, angst

warnings • suggestive, swearing

words count • 1184

author’s note • omg i didn’t even know why i wrote this but i surely was having osamu (and perhaps kiyoomi) brainrot lmao

they’d stayed like that—held each other close with his hand fiddling her hair while her soft and steady breathing hit his bare chest—for almost two hours. the dimmed light illuminated his side figure while the clock on his bedroom’s wall was ticking in the same rhythms as their heartbeat. not too slow, not too fast. all at the right calming pace.

‘this is the last time,’ osamu reminded himself as he turned and kissed her on top of her head. as he breathed in her typical scent, he could feel his heart warmer. he pulled away a little and stared down at the woman who was now looking up right at his grey orbs with a questioning look. it was almost 4 in the a.m. yet they both were still wide awake, cherishing their last intimate moment together.

without saying anything, osamu put his arms around her waist again and brought her even closer to him, embracing her like she was his everything. like she was the sole reason for his existence that he would never let go. but he also knew all too well that wasn’t right. she was never his to begin with.

a soft whisper suddenly filled in the silence. “osamu.”

he hummed, asking her to continue whatever it was she was going to say.

“you know i love you as a friend... but that’s just it. i don’t think this is gonna work out for us anymore. you with your business and me with my job—”

“i know and i love you too,” he quickly added, cutting her off. “it’s okay, y/n. really. i understand your decision. besides, we’re still friends, right?”

the brown haired woman chuckled. “of course, we are. unless you don’t want to?”

he hugged her tightly, settling his head at the crook of her neck after placing a soft kiss there. “nah, i still need ya to advertise my new branch store.”

she punched his arm lightly and let out a grin. “you jerk.”

osamu laughed at her reaction. “what? i’m being honest here. it’s a win-win situation, i get more customers and ya get free onigiris made by none other than miya osamu himself!”

a smile formed on her face as she rolled her eyes dramatically. “whatever, ‘samu.”

another silent hit the two of them again. a good silence where they simply cuddled and enjoyed each other’s company. again, osamu reminded himself mentally that this was their last time to be like this. to be this close. skin to skin.

osamu took a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyes fluttering close. he’d seen this coming from the very beginning. yes he knew the consequences, yet he still made this choice. and he never regretted it.

“how’s sakusa?” asked osamu after some time.

there was a pause. she snuggled closer and answered with a muffled voice, “good, i think? he’s still with my colleague i mentioned the other day, so yeah, i think he’s good. um... they’re a nice person and very patient, a perfect fit for kiyoomi. i’m glad they’re together.”

his long fingers stroked her hairs gently. “don’tcha talk to him?”

“yes, but now i’m kinda mad at him, so we’re not really on speaking terms,” she yawned, hoping osamu would just drop that topic and they finally could sleep while the sky outside was still dark.

hearing that, osamu raised his eyebrows, confused. “what happened?”

“he never went to any of my fashion shows. you know he and i have been friends for almost 8 years now. and yet, he chose to go to theirs!” y/n said with her eyes, which showed a hint of feeling betrayed, now locked with osamu’s amused eyes. “can you imagine? how could he trust them in the span of one year?”

when osamu said nothing, she continued, “ugh, i hate him. i even declined an offer because i promised to watch his debut game in the pro league. but look at him—didn’t even bother to ask when my show was scheduled.”

“y/n,” osamu called, making her stare at him with a pissed face. talking about kiyoomi these past few days always managed to make her boiling in anger. osamu let out a hearty laugh. his palm cupped her cheek when he said, “you’re being jealous, babe.”

she rolled her eyes. “of course i am, ‘samu. haven’t you been listening to what i say? he chose to go to their show, whom he barely knows, instead of going to mine, his best buddy.”

“talk to him, then,” he suggested after shaking his head at her pettiness and how dense she was.

“i did, but you know him. he’s such a blunt jerk. i can’t believe he said theirs was better because they only invited a few important people while mine was open to the public. i mean, he’s not totally wrong and i know about his phobia and such, but i’m still mad at him. period,” y/n stated. “let’s stop talking about that shithead.”

osamu chuckled and placed a quick kiss on her pouty lips. “yeah, let’s stop talking about him. this is our last night after all.”

seeing his little smirk, y/n gulped. osamu cupped her cheek and leaned in, closing the gap between the two of them. they closed their eyes as his lips reached hers. contrary to what she expected, the kiss wasn’t as rough as she thought it’d be, rather it was as gentle as a breeze. as delicate as a glass. the kind of kiss that made her feel numb and got her thinking how he could invade all her senses so addictively. but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same, she didn’t want to hurt him by pretending that she felt the same way. the kiss, however, was also as if it was his only way of saying goodbye to her, so she let him. for the last time.

miya osamu wasn’t sure what’s gotten into him—he just couldn’t let go. and so he didn’t. to him, she was like black hole that pulled him in until he lost his gravity and trapped without a way out. she was like medicine that got him intoxicated. she was like spring that came after winter. she was the earth to his moon. he constantly revolved around her, while she was revolving around someone else. the sun.

he knew from the very beginning he could never be the sun, but him being the certified clown, ignoring his own brother’s warning, he started getting himself tangled into this. as everybody knew, everything that started needed an end. and this was their end. a tear suddenly fell down his cheek, making its way to their sealed mouths. he slowly broke the kiss, and whispered, “thank you.”

she shook her head ever so slightly then wiped the trace of tears on his cheek softly. “i’m the one who should thank you, ‘samu. and i’m so sorry.”

“there’s nothing to be sorry about,” he chuckled a little and plastered a smile on his face. “it’s for the best.”

“it is.”

[haechanokeh]

Sincerity is Scary

[Sad ending] [Continuation & Happy]

synopsis: haechan and you are best friends who couldn't admit their feelings which frustrates them both and the people around the two of you

content: college au! haechan x reader

word count: 1.9K

warning: none

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

You spit your coke - that didn't taste like one and coughed. you glared at haechan.

"what did you put in my coke?" you huffed. haechan gave you his innocent look.

"i don't know what you're talking about." he pouted.

"you put soy sauce in it right? i knew i should not leave my food and drinks when you're around." you said throwing tantrums.

haechan laughed and threw his arm over your shoulder and shoved a cold wet can of coke into your cheeks.

"here, drink this." he said, cooly. you rolled your eyes.

"you wasted money just to annoy me, seriously." you grunted.

"it's worth it though." he chuckled.

someone coughed and both of you just realized that you're with haechan's friends which your friends now.

"i thought you two forgotten we're with you." renjun used his sarcastic voice.

"both of you literally have your own worlds." jaemin added.

"i really don't understand why you're not dating here dude." jeno teased.

"what? hell no!" you said in unison.

you looked at each other, silently hurt. both of you felt awkward and haechan removed his arm from your shoulder. you opened the can of coke haechan gave.

haechan friends- renjun, jaemin, and jeno noticed the awkwardness between you. at first it was cute but it has been 3 years, they've been watching both of you and it was clear to them that you like each other. but what's stopping you and haechan from admitting it?

fear of the possibility of being wrong that you have mutual feelings for each other or that what happens if love vanishes because you'll never know. haechan is your childhood friend and your parents are really close there was a time you used to take a bath together when you're still toddlers. basically, you're so close with him and it'll be wasted.

you were lying on your stomach on haechan's bed while scrolling through your phone as you try to distract yourself from menstrual cramps. haechan is playing with his friends through his computer.

you shoved your face and groaned in pain because your menstrual cramp is an asshole! it was sever when it comes, it can make your head throb and your body is very weak. haechan heard you, the other side of his headphone wasn't covering his other ear. he looked back to check on you. he caught you massaging your abdomen.

"y/n?" brows furrowed in concern.

"hmm?" you just hummed.

"are you okay?" he worriedly asked, his hands were on the keyboard but he's not doing anything reason for jeno calling him out.

"haechan, what the hell dude?!"

"not really." you admitted. your in pain it was evident in your voice, face, and body.

haechan quickly removed his headphone and leave his gaming chair to go to you. you turned, your back is lying down now. haechan was staring at your hands on top of your lower abdomen.

"cramps again?" haechan knew how badly it gets when you're in menstruation. you nodded, you're almost tearing up.

he pitied you, he put his hands larger than yours and slightly rougher on top of the back of your palm. he's giving you a massage without directly touching your abdomen.

"you should've told me. wait here, i'll prepare the hot compress bag." he said and stood up.

"you have hot compress?"

"well, ahm.. mom bought it. wait here." he was lying, he bought it himself because he was traumatized 4 months ago where your cramp strike when you were in his house. that was the worst cramp that you ever experienced and it was in haechan's condo. since then, haechan stored napkins and bought hot compress.

haechan took care of you and he gave you his whole attention. he forgotten his game, left his computer open and friends hanging. but his friend already knew that you're always haechan's priority. haechan waited for you to sleep. it became a habit to you to sleep on haechan's arm and he's not bothered even though sometimes he couldn't feel his arm anymore because of numbness. he was jist staring at you as if you're the most precious thing he owns...

haechan saw his computer.

"sht." he cursed, he forgot he's playing. since you're already sleeping, he carefully removed his arm under your head. he went back to his seat and wore his headphone.

"sorry dude, y/n is not feeling well."

"your girlfriend?" jaemin teased. haechan just chuckle... bitterly.

"why don't you date her already?" jeno said.

"haechan, seriously you two look like dating already. why don't you just make it straight already?" renjun said.

haechan went silent. he couldn't count anymore how many times they tell this to him, but for him it was very hard. it wasn't easy, simply because it was scary. he thinks the same way with you, it's just scary of what's the difference of your relationship as friend vs lovers, that if it didn't work out because it's better to be just friends, then what will happen next? will you still become as comfortable with him? will he become as close to you as he used to? it's scary because both of you don't know what will happen so you both chose to hide it and keep it that way.

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

it's your university's foundation, there will be a night party. you went inside with haechan but women quickly eyeing at him. who wouldn't? he's wearing a black leathered jacket, ripped jeans, and his hair that is quite long made him more four times sexier.

"haechan, i'll just get a fruit punch. do you want some?" you asked slightly louder than your normal voice because of the noise.

haechan who's enjoying the band's performance, gaze down at you and shook his head.

"no thanks. want me to come with you?" he asked. you just shook your head saying that he doesn't have to. he just nodded and went back enjoying the performance.

you left him and go to the catering buffet just to grab fruit punch and quickly went back to where you left him but you stopped from walking when you saw him with another girl, standing beside him where you left. they were talking intimately, and it was painful. imagine jeno punching your stomach, yes! with those arms and strength, that's the scale of pain.

unware, the three boys- renjun, jeno, and jaemin watching the drama while munching the shared bag of chips.

"she will cry." jeno bet.

"nah, she will push the girl." jaemin contradict.

"tsk, no." renjun grabbed a handful chips from the bag earning a glare from the two. "she will confess." jeno and jaemin eyes bulge out for renjun being ridiculous, at least for them.

"her? that's not gonna happen." jaemin said. renjun rolled his eyes.

"as if she will push the girl jaemin, y/n isn't like that."

well they all agreed and returned watching the drama while eating chips. yeah, they are eating chips in the room with a catering service.

you walk, heart-pounding loudly and hands shaking while holding the cup. you silently stood beside haechan hoping that he will notice you, unfortunately, he didn't. you disappointedly sipped on the paper cup.

you were silently and listening to their conversation- well you are trying your best because the loud music made it harder for you. they were like getting to know each other kind of questions.

you're getting annoyed so you sneakily held haechan's hand. he quickly whipped his head down to you. he gazed at your hands then to you who looking straight to the band. when haechan realize it was you, warm electricity traveled in his whole system. the random girl saw everything, so she concluded that you and haechan are dating.

"well, I have to go to my friends... ahm bye." the girl nervously and quickly walked away. haechan didn't mind her, he was just staring at you.

"is she gone?" you looked up to face haechan who was seriously looking at you.

for some odd reason, his expression made your heartbeat fast not in a fluttering way but it made you nervous.

"let's talk outside." he told you sounding a little disappointed. both of you walk while holding hands.

and the 3 guys? saw that and was jumping on their feet and slapping each other in excitement.

"dude, dude! they will finally date!" jaemin said

"finally my frustration will end now." renjun said, he sighed in relief hands on top of his chest. "but why do i feel something ominous." he said feeling unease.

"don't jinx it." jeno groaned.

you and haechan were outside the hall, away from the crowd and noise. haechan let go of your hand and face you.

you were looking nervous and he.. he's sad and disappointed.

"i will never date a friend." haechan directly told you that you didn't expect to hear.

the atmosphere was tense and it's like the heaven and hell compressing you made you feel so small. you were deeply hurt but you didn't allow haechan to see that. you masked it with a laugh.

"why are you telling me that? wah... you think i will date you? yikes." you were laughing and it looked so real. you badly want to cry but don't want to. you were disappointed that you were right. you're just too close, his actions to you are equally no different to a friend.

haechan? like he was hurt. he was asking himself why did he say that? it wasn't real but he was also asking himself, why did you say that? it was written all over your face no matter how many emotions and expressions you put in your face, you were deeply hurt.

"well, i thought you were falling for me already." he grinned. you rolled your eyes.

"in your dreams." yeah, only in dreams.

"let's go back?" haechan asks holding in the pain in his chest. you gave him a smile.

"you go back first, i'll just go to the toilet." holding back your tears. the toilet is in the opposite direction from the room.

haechan just nodded and left you, parting ways. you turned your back and released every single emotion as you walked quickly towards the toilet room.

haechan with a heavy heart went back to the room. his friends approached haechan, hugging him and playfully pushing him.

"congrats dude!" renjun said cheerfully. haechan's forehead creased.

"what?"

"dude, you're finally dating y/n!" renjun said. but they saw haechan's face, it doesn't look like you were dating already. their smiles fell and turned into disbelief.

"what?! how?!" jeno exclaimed.

"just, i don't know." he shrugged.

"it's your fault, you jinxed it" jaemin amused that it was really jinxed by renjun. renjun gripped his own hair in frustration.

so why did haechan lie?

he realized that his world is small because the only person in it is you and that's not good. but he never wanted to lose you. at the same time haechan with the same reason that he always says in his mind. if things don't work out, someone will definitely leave. he couldn't bear that.

does it make sense? no. he's just convincing his self that this is why you don't like to date y/n.

sincerity is hard to give especially if you overthink things. as the song said, questioning why can't we just be sincere? it so easy but why is it hard for us? well, there are times that when we choose sincerity we ended up being vulnerable. the idea of being hurt is scary but you know what either way it's painful but it was extra painful when you became sincere because you know you became true to yourself but weren't accepted.

there will be another part, continuation but for people who don't like sad ending life me 😿

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | ONE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 2,725

warnings: thoughts of suicide! unsuccessful attempt! depression, grief, angst

18+!!! minors stay away! TRIGGER WARNING.

Nothing made sense anymore. The world was upside down, all messed up, and you were hanging by a thread. How could it have been a year since the incident? How could you be okay with being older than her now?

Grief is something that nobody expects to be easy, but you never expected it to be quite so hard. Every day people promised that tomorrow would be better, but it never was. It never got better. It never got easier. You were fairly sure it never would, because if it still hurt this bad after thirteen months, twenty-two days, and six hours, how could one more hour, day, month, or year bring any sort of respite?

It couldn't. It wouldn't. Sometimes you wondered if this was your punishment. Maybe you felt this way because you deserved to, because you had earned a life time of suffering when you let her die. Sure, big sisters are supposed to look out for little sisters, but at the cost of their life? That couldn't go unpunished.

Every day was the same since she died. Wake up, wish you hadn't, feel everything and nothing all at once, and go to sleep. It was a strange and horrible existence; people weren't meant to feel so many big things at the same time. The guilt, the shame, the anguish, the longing... it consumed every part of you like a black hole until you were left with nothing. Until you felt nothing, thought nothing, you were nothing.

They were all the same until today. It was your birthday, your eighteenth birthday to be exact, and for once that ever present black hole in your chest was gone. Instead of waking up to the constant weight of all those heavy emotions on your shoulders, you woke up with the familiar numb emptiness you felt at the end of every day.

There weren't words to describe how much that terrified you. Every single day since your sister died, you'd wished endlessly for those painful feelings to go away. You'd begged for relief, for peace, and you'd taken solace in the hollow of the evenings. Waking up already vacant and listless did not bring the comfort you dreamed of.

You were officially older than her. You'd finally reached that first milestone she'd never reach, and the thought of it punched a hole in your chest so large you wondered if there was anything left of you at all. It wasn't fair--how could you celebrate the big ticket birthday she'd yearned for so anxiously? You couldn't.

You didn't deserve to celebrate. You didn't deserve to achieve all those goals she never had the chance to. You didn't deserve to live through all the years, experiences, moments that she never would. You didn't deserve to live.

It was all your fault, after all. It was your fault that she was there that day, it was your fault she lingered behind, and it was your fault she died. If you'd just gone shopping like she'd asked instead of insisting on going to the park, she'd still be here. If you hadn't frozen like an idiot, she'd still be here.

With a mind swimming with all the reasons everything would be better if you just weren't around anymore, you snuck out of your bedroom window. It was finally dark outside; you'd managed to make it through the day for your parents. But, with the day over, you couldn't hold on any longer.

The letter you'd written for your parents to find was tucked under your pillow, and with one final glance around the bedroom you used to share with your sister, you made peace with your life. This was for the best. Everyone would be so much better off if it had been you instead of her, and now you were going to make things right. It wouldn't bring her back, but at least you wouldn't be there as a reminder of what should have been.

As ready as you were, you didn't really have a plan. There were a million possibilities as far as how you could execute your desires, but none of them seemed right. It had to be fast, though, and something that didn't require much work. If it took effort, conscious thought and execution, you wouldn't follow through. You'd learned that the last time.

That was how you ended up on the roof of one of the more swanky apartment complexes. It was a tall building, taller than those surrounding it, and a fall from that height would surely do the trick. Strangely, the moment your feet dangled over the ledge with your bottom firmly planted in place, your mind went blank.

All those thoughts of the stress and pain you caused went silent, and you finally could breathe. With a deep exhale, your body relaxed for the first time since the incident; you didn't feel any of the bad things anymore. There was no pain, no grief, no sadness, nor were there any of those empty or numb feelings. You just felt peace.

The peace was short lived as you looked down to the street far below, though. This was it, this was the end, and suddenly your mind was racing with all the what if's. What if it could get better? What if it didn't work? What if this made everything worse? What if this was a mistake?

What if, what if, what if, "Whatever, just shut up." you gasped, clutching your head in your hands to keep it from spinning. "Get it together, (Y/N), this is the right thing to do."

Pulling out the letter you'd written to your sister, you opened it and cried for the first time in months. You'd long ago stopped crying; despite how many horrible things you'd been feeling, the tears just never came. But reading the words you'd written to her, thinking of her as you came to terms with your decision to join her, it was as if a metaphorical flood gate opened.

Thirteen months, twenty-two days, and seven hours. You couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't do it, do anything, anymore; you just needed to rest. The clock was running out, and your time was up.

"You can do this." you whispered, "For once in your life, do something right."

With shaky hands and weak knees, you scrambled up onto your feet and stood atop the ledge. You weren't that tall, but somehow the new perspective made the drop look so much longer and your stomach heaved with fright. Sobbing, you stumbled back to your knees and threw up the little bit of cake you'd forced yourself to eat earlier that evening.

You wiped the sick from your mouth and stood up again, this time with panting gasps for air and knees that shook so violently you feared you might fall before you were ready to. Maybe that would have been for the best, though, because the longer you looked down the more doubts you had. No one would ever know it was an accident if that were the case.

A sudden noise behind you startled you, and your heart seized in your chest as your knees gave out and you tipped dangerously over the edge. You didn't fall, though, because a sticky substance latched around your arm and dragged you back over until you were laying on the roof. For a moment you just laid there, staring up at the empty sky where the stars were all drowned out by the city lights, and you tried hard to figure out what had just happened.

"Are you okay? Oh--oh my god, are you hurt? What were you thinking? Shit, oh shit, Karen, what do I do?" A masked head leaned over your face, blocking the starless sky from your view, and all the feelings came flooding back like a tsunami. "Um, can you hear me?"

One feeling stood out against the current, and your body tensed as you were overcome with seething, white hot rage. An anger like you'd never felt before; you were furious. How dare he stop you? How dare he ruin everything?

It was Spiderman, the friendly neighborhood hero who'd been gallivanting around Queens for some time now, and that made you even angrier. Spiderman was one of them, one of the ridiculous superheroes who'd killed your sister without a single care in the world. He was one of them, and he'd just stopped you from finally fixing everything they had ruined.

You stood so fast you nearly threw up again, but you swallowed the bile down and hissed, "You should have let me fall. I wanted to fall."

Spiderman pulled you back with a firm grip on the web that was still wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks as you stomped back toward the ledge. "Hey, stop! I'm not going to let you do this." he shouted, but his voice was more nervous than commanding.

"Get out of here, Spiderman. You're not saving the day by stopping me, okay?" you snapped fiercely. No matter how hard you pulled against the webbing holding you back, you couldn't break free. It didn't budge when you pulled at it, clawed at it, or even pried it. "What the hell is this shit?"

He pulled you in further, and you stumbled over your feet as you tried to keep your distance. "I'm not going to let you do this. You don't need to do this." he repeated, this time more firmly.

For a moment you were silent, studying the masked hero as he stared back at you with a hidden face. "You don't even know me. Why do you care?" you tried again, but your voice was softer, more fragile. The numbness was creeping back in again and you knew that you wouldn't be able to follow through anymore, even if he let you go.

"I do know you, (Y/N), and you don't need to do this. We can--I can help you. Let me help you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. How the hell did he know your name? Did you know him? Even though your mind was running wild with unanswered questions, you seethed, "You can't help me. Unless you can go back in time and kill me instead of my sister, you can't fucking help me."

The eyes of his mask widened at your shout, and he stammered, "I--no, I can't do that, but I can help you. I can be your friend, you... you can talk to me. I know what it's like to lose someone, (Y/N)."

You scoffed, "Do you know what it's like to watch a family member die right in front of you? Do you know what it's like to see someone get killed, and it's all your fault? You can't help me!"

"I do, actually." he stated.

Your entire body slumped at the revelation, the anger leaving you as the numbness finally took over completely. It was silent for a few long moments as you cried noiselessly, the only sounds being those of your still frantic breathing and the bustling traffic far below. "If you know, then you know why I have to do it." you whimpered.

Spiderman dropped the web keeping you in place as you collapsed onto your butt, your legs too weak to support you anymore from exhaustion. "I know why you think you have to, but I also know why you're wrong. This isn't the answer." he responded, tentatively taking a few steps closer to you.

You didn't respond, looking up at him as you wiped your cheeks and nose weakly, and he took the chance to continue, "I'm going to make you a deal. I'm going to take my mask off and show you who I am. If you still want to do it after, fine, but at least you'll know who will be blaming themselves afterwards."

True to his word, his fingers creeped under the edge of his mask as he stared you down intensely. Your breath faltered as you watched, completely still as you realized he was serious. Spiderman was going to reveal his identity to you, and you knew that once he did it was game over. As much as you felt the world would be better off without you, you couldn't bare the thought of leaving someone behind to feel the way that you did.

So, stubbornly, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and refused to look. "I'll wait here all night if I have to. Besides, I could just say my name, you know. I'm pretty sure you know me too."

"Don't." you pleaded.

"Open your eyes, (Y/N). You want this, right? Knowing who I am shouldn't change anything, then." he urged, his tone soft despite his harsh words. "It's Peter. Peter Parker. I've sat behind you in at least two classes since freshman year, and I've lent you pencils before. You always give them back, and you always let Flash copy your homework even though he's a total dick to you. You--"

Your eyes snapped open as you cut him off, "Stop! Just because you know things about me doesn't mean you know me."

It really was Peter Parker, and the numbness faded a little to make room for anxiety and guilt. You knew Peter had lost too much in his life; his parents and his uncle, too. Could you add your name to that list? Could you jump when you knew he'd blame himself for the rest of his life?

You couldn't. You wouldn't. Peter's brown eyes were filled with worry and sadness as he studied you, his mask clutched tightly in his fist. When you remained silent, he sat down and spoke quietly, "I know enough to know the world would suck without you. I could be your friend, you know, you don't have to do this alone."

"I don't need friends." you huffed.

Peter frowned briefly, before rubbing his nose and hiding it again. "I did just tell you my biggest secret, (Y/N), so I think we kind of have to be friends now." he finally rebutted, a faint twinge of humor in his voice, "You might not want friends, but you do need one. I'll be your friend."

You stared back at Peter blankly, uncaring as he shifted uncomfortably in your silence. Why did he want to be your friend? He already got what he wanted. You weren't going to go through with your plan, and he wouldn't have to live with guilt like you did every day. So, why was he still here?

Part of you wanted to believe he really cared, because he seemed to pay a lot of attention to you to notice the little things you did, but you knew better. He didn't really care about you. He only cared that you knew his secret and now you had leverage over him. You could out him if you wanted to, and that meant he had to keep tabs on you.

"I don't need friends." you repeated stiffly, "Don't worry, Parker. Your secret is safe with me."

His eyes widened as he stammered, "That's not--"

"Save it, Peter. Can you please just get this shit off of me so I can go home? I want to go to bed." you cut him off with a deep sigh, gesturing to the web that was still hanging from your arm.

He looked like he wanted to argue, to further plead his case, but after a few moments he visibly wilted and gave in. "It'll dissolve in two hours. I'll... I'll see you at school, (Y/N)."

It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question. You knew he was still hesitant to let you out of his sight, fearful that you'd go back on your word and follow through, and this was his way of confirming you wouldn't do just that. Achingly stretching up off the ground, you muttered, "Yeah. Bye, Peter."

Peter tugged his mask back over his head, but didn't make any move to leave until you were opening the door that lead back into the building. As you stepped through the threshold he gave a forlorn wave, before jumping over the ledge and swinging away. The door shut behind you as the weight of the world settled on your shoulders once again. You'd failed, like always.

[parlideldiavolo]

have mercy, pt. 03

(CW: Violence and injury.)

lll.

The building was empty. Vic wondered if it had any significance—the Saints tended to be premeditated in what they did and loved their symbolism, as evidenced by the sound of a heavy whip hitting the ground.

Killian--Mercy, he corrected himself--wouldn’t do this just anywhere. Vic wanted to pick the thought apart further and see where it led but his attention was drawn instead to the heavy coils that pooled around the Saint’s feet.

He wanted to laugh. Love, huh?

(It made sense. If the stories were true, his race had been cursed because of love--the love of one being turned into punishment, because devils had love for an imperfect world free of its chains. Something like that.)

Mercy watched him from across the warehouse floor with same unchanging sorrow that had haunted his face since they’d first seen each other. The older man closed his eyes and took a deep breath (and that was an opportunity.) 

(Vic didn’t take it.)

The following exhale was deep and shuddering. When Mercy next looked up his face, from line-worn eyes to graying beard, was tear-stained. Vic wasn’t sure what he felt, seeing that. More anger? Jealousy?

The brightness in his eyes sharpened as Mercy slid his palms across the heft of the whip. What looked to be two or three gold trammel-like items, or spikes, had been seated in his belt. The older man’s shoulders rose and his body swelled to fill the room. With his next breath a serpentine cross was revealed to be seated at his collar. The dress he wore was dark and ashen.

It was about time he looked less like a kind older man, Vic thought. A monster hunter stood in front of him instead and it matched far better with the man Vic had last seen many years ago. The devil’s attention drifted up to the old burn scar on Mercy’s face. He thought of the burnt-out phone lying crumpled in the car and hoped seeing that had opened up an old, old wound.

“When they took you into the Sanctum,” the older man began, and there was the faintest tremor in his voice as he spoke, ”I didn’t know what would happen.”

Vic’s fists tightened. “Didn’t expect me to burn your face, I’ll wager.”

The burn scar that crossed Mercy’s skin tugged as he spoke. “That moment, when you were on the pyre, I was reaching for you. I meant to pull you free.”

That wasn’t how Vic remembered it.

Mercy blinked the tears away. “You can’t help your nature. And I... have learned.”

It didn’t change anything. Not if they were still standing here.

“Nothing left to say?” Vic asked while hooking fingers into his gloves and ripping them off.

“Yes,” Mercy replied. “But I know you won’t listen.”

“Then give me something worthwhile to hear besides ‘I love you.’”

Mercy’s smile faded. “It is like a devil to not understand love.”

Vic sensed the shift before it happened. The floor where he’d been standing shattered as the heavy throng of the whip broke the concrete into slabs. It whipped back with an audible groan but Vic was already blazing across the floor.

<“Try again!”> he snarled.

The rage was easier to direct. It slammed him into the Saint with a flurry of fire and smoke that roared over the heartbeat in his ears or the worries that swept like currents. He struck fast, landing blows across shoulders and bearing the weighted buffet of Mercy slamming the hilt of the whip across his side. It felt like acid.

Vic spun away, dodged the next crackling roar of the whip as it flew and lunged through the spiraling loop it made before the coils could snap shut and crack his spine in half.

A concrete column exploded when Mercy whipped it back. The dust cloud erupted like a sudden storm of ash; Vic sank low, flipped over the next swinging link like a dancer and swooped close to catch Mercy’s forearm and wrench away the punch that might have shattered his jaw. Mercy gasped in pain and spat blood. A quick shp sound was all the warning Vic received before a blade shot out of the Saint’s wrist and glanced off the devil’s rib. Blood steamed as it sprayed and the hallowed blade ripped clean through Vic’s shirt.

Vic had experience with Saints’ weapons. He knew what they were like—how they burned and debilitated, paralyzed, or inflicted unusual agony to the monsters they were unleashed on. He knew what to expect and could feel the sanctified thrum of energy that buzzed off the whip every time it swung.

Being prepared helped to withstand the effects themselves, but the simple reality of their pain remained. Vic felt his next blow land with a sharp crack that had Mercy doubling. The next attempted gutting swung wide.

<“Show your face,”> Mercy roared as they spun and tangled like a flurry.

Vic wanted to roar back this is my face but settled for grabbing Mercy’s head as his eyes went black and then erupted with the same flaming scarlet that poured from his mouth when Vic breathed fire straight at the Saint’s eyes.

Mercy twisted out of the pillar of flame and caught most of it on the side of his head, ear and beard. He swung Vic aside and ripped a hand through the grey-streaked strands to rip the flames out.

Another column exploded. Vic caught the edge of a link on his next series of snarling vaults through the whip’s labyrinth of chains and felt his forearm snap.

None of the hits he received were rewarded with even a murmur of pain. Vic’s tongue stayed behind his teeth as he stumbled to clap a hand over his bloodied arm. His tattoos roared to life as the wound was healed.

Mercy was breathing heavily, bruised and flushed by fire. Vic met his eyes and could feel the light smoke curling from between his sharpening teeth. The storm of grey in his eyes flared ruby when the storm receded to black out the whites of his eyes.

Is this the face that you want?

Vic’s tapered tail whipped out and cracked across Mercy’s wrist when the blade came up and dark wings buffeted them across the room to crash them against iron shelving and send Mercy reeling. The next hilt jab caught Vic across the hip. His hands ripped at the Saint’s neck and the disabling cross that hung there--one made in the likeness of a gilded, crucified serpent. 

Fights rarely last long. Most happen in heartbeats before they’re finished and the dazed dance of fire, smoke, gold and blood comes to a close. Mercy’s chest heaved ragged and he smelled burnt and torn as blood streamed from his nose and brow to smear across the dress he wore. Blood stained Vic’s teeth. The desire filling his mouth tasted like death and ash.

Mercy went to grab his hand, or so it seemed, but Vic felt something pierce it instead.

Ah, the calculating part of Vic thought through the veil of anger. This is new.

In that split second Vic could have killed him. It would have been easy—either with claws, teeth, fire. The tattoos that spanned his body erupted with light.

He hesitated.

(He’s fourteen years old, perched on the arm of a chair holding a box with a wounded kitten in his lap. His uncle is smiling; Killian says, ‘you should be a healer.’ He lights up.)

Vic’s hand went numb. The split second his fingers relaxed a crack of the whip caught the side of his head, snagged a horn and yanked.

He was able to catch himself and rip free but the numbness in his hand remained. When Vic glanced down he could see one of the small, spear-head shaped trammels he’d taken note of earlier embedded in his hand. The arcane light that flared from the tattoos on that hand dimmed and wavered.

Vic could hear his heartbeat again. It pounded in his pinned-back ears when Mercy wrested himself off the floor; the blood that erupted around the sanctified gold steamed.

He had to end it.

The Saint must have had the same thought—he didn’t have the body or endurance that Vic did. 

Vic’s hand still wasn’t responding when the next assault came. By the time he felt the next piercing sensation the whole room was lit with smoke.

This wouldn’t be the end. It couldn’t be--an end for Vic would be much more grand than this.

So, he kept fighting even when feeling drained from his fingertips. He fought because there were people who couldn’t be hurt, not by the Saints, not by this Saint, and not by some fucking god. He fought until Mercy, hedged against a wall, ripped a serpentine cross from his belt.

It was bladed at the end. Vic discovered that when it sank into his chest with the hand of a Saint at its hilt. This was something he could shake off and recover from.

Usually.

Vic stumbled back. The room spun. Mercy released the bladed cross and stepped back with a catch of breath and clutch of his own chest as he doubled over.

Vic stumbled again. That’s when the devil, who had so far been silent except for his anger, heard himself scream.

It was a raw, seething sound. Agony exploded inside his chest. It had pierced something, something vital, more vital than a simple organ and Vic was hemorrhaging power uncontrollably as the room spun.

He couldn’t pull it out—his hands wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t heal—the blazing of his tattoos danced wildly like a candle caught in wind as his power surged inward, deep, deep within to try and heal what the cross had punctured.

Strands of fire and smoke dripped from his mouth like blood. If he’d been aware he would have noticed his body uncontrollably shifting from one form to another as he convulsed. Whatever threads had woven his endemic memory together were snapping at the seams, because Vic was suddenly Falling.

Mercy watched, stricken, through a veil of broken skin and burnt hair.

It occurred to some small, lucid part of Vic that he was afraid--not of Mercy, not of anything, except... dying.

Vic’s vision blurred. He’d spent all this time coming to terms with it—with a horrible end and thinking he could meet it with a grin—but now all he could think about was Ireland. They were supposed to go there.

(Mercy had also stumbled back. Now the older man painfully lifted himself from the wall.)

So many unfulfilled debts and promises. Friendships. Vic couldn’t fail them.

(The Saint braced a hand against it and pushed himself upright.)

He didn’t want to lose them. Or his dad. Meph. His family.

(“I… mercy,” the Saint murmured as he began to walk forward. His voice shook. The first blade shone in his hand. “I'll have mercy.”)

He didn’t want to leave him.

Vic’s unfeeling fingers slid from burning gold, and his legs finally buckled as the world fell away.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

lowkey blowing up your inbox with all this angst, but it just keeps coming. But imagine Joyce slapping Billy for what he did to Steve (the kids may have exaggerated a little bit), but it doesn't matter at that point because he's already having a whole shutdown/panic attack

perfect. i’m prepared for this one right now.

let’s-a-go!

—

he could only stare at steve. couldn’t look away from the damage he’d caused. it was just the two of them. sat at the byers’ dining table.

steve had been the only one to give him any mind. even max had been completely ignoring him. had muttered something to steve before she left to the living room with the other kids.

he took the cup of water harrington slid to his hands and drank greedily. still hazy from the drugs. his chest was slowly tightening. uncomfortable and painful. steve wouldn’t look back at him and tapped his pinky against his own cup instead.

“can you drive yet?” a car door slammed outside. billy jumped at it, looked at the door through the open space into the living room. shook his head. steve nodded, “i’ll try to keep the kids quiet.”

billy looked back at him, “what?”

their eyes met and steve offered a weak smile, “i don’t think either of us want to deal with hopper taking you to the station tonight. i’ll tell the kids to hold off mentioning,” he gestured to his swollen head, “this.” billy teared up but blinked it away, no self pity. “you obviously have shit going on already.” billy really wanted to cry. he was a piece of shit.

“i’m sorry,” he shamefully started. “i’m really sorry about doing...” he held his cup with both his shaky hands, “oh god. i’m so sorry!” he didn’t realize right away that his shoulders were shaking.

steve opened his mouth the same time the front door opened and one adults walked though. the wheeler boy rushed in front of her and followed the woman’s pointed finger outside. the faint call of ‘will’ cut off by the door.

“ms. byers!” dustin greeted, “we have a problem.” lucas and max stood behind him, nodding.

steve muttered, “awe hell,” before fast walking out of the room.

“billy hargrove came by earlier and beat up stev—“ he was muffled by steve’s hand. billy watched them as his heart started beating even faster.

“it’s alright, joyce, how about we—“

“what happened, steve?” ms. byers looked so worried billy felt bile rush up. he used the table to steady himself enough to stand up.

max glared at her toes, “my brother hit him with a plate and then jumped on him.”

steve put his hands out assuringly, “we really don’t have to worry about that right now.”

dustin hit steve’s arm with the back of his hand, “he almost killed you. of course it’s important! what the hell are you on about?”

lucas folded his arms, “hopper should put him in a cell!”

“just—“

“where is he?” joyce asked the room. didn’t even have to hear an answer before she caught billy’s eye. she slowly walked up to him. he felt his breath pick up. he saw flickers of neil. just as he’d been hours before. “you did that?” she gestured to harrington’s blue, red, and purple splotched skin. he had to nod. didn’t have control. couldn’t escape. his heart was sputtering like a failing car engine on the highway.

steve tried to follow her even after dustin grabbed his arm, “wait—“

closer and closer and...SMACK.

everyone was silent. steve was four feet away and joyce was one. she looked scary; so scary. scarier than neil. because neil already looked scary, but this woman looked nice and kind and soft and now she looked.... brimmed with hatred.

he felt the sting slowly and it got worse and worse. the same tender spot that neil had hit, and then steve had punched. he touched it, all tingling and swelling like a bee sting. “ow,” he whispered. joyce seemed somewhere between regretful and even more upset.

then he sobbed.

ugly and loud. desperate and lost. both his hands grazed the abused skin. tumbled down to his bottom and he couldn’t breathe. his throat was clogged from all the unkept bushes of emotion. his lungs were frozen in place and his body wouldn’t stop trembling.

“hargrove,” he felt fingers press gingerly into his knees. steve. “billy, look at me.” he hadn’t even known his eyes had been closed. he unstuck them and slowly focused on steve. he watched him nod and smile, “there you go! good job.” something loosened in his neck. one quick breath. steve nodded warmly, “there you go, man.” another crumble and another few breaths. steve kept just his fingertips barely touching him as he slowly got his senses back.

steve only moved away when billy started breathing again. they sat against the walls adjacent to one another.

if it were any other moment in his life he would have laughed at ms. byers’ expression. she slowly gathered herself back up.

“steve, you should go rest.” she stepped closer but steve gave her a look when billy curled up more. he hadn’t meant to. but she stopped and steve shook his head.

“i want to stay. you can go to the kids. i’m sure will and mike should come back in by now.” billy wouldn’t look up, only heard what they said. didn’t see joyce nod and usher the kids away with her understanding gaze.

billy’s head went numb when he felt steve take his hand.

“no one’s going to hurt you anymore here,” he promised. “not like whoever has been.”

somehow, steve had caught on, and billy’s tears turned into something relieved.

“thank you,” he cried out quietly.

“anytime.”