#it’s from off sick which I haven’t watched all of yet *buries self in the mud*

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.

They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal... 

Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting

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Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.

The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer! 

Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.

Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.

Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.

Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.

Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.

regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine . 

"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.

"Let's not be hasty here..."  He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you... 

You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.

You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.

Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.

His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three! 

You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.   

When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.  

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Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about  cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third pack of cow's blood.

"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."

"Well, what about anyone else's?" 

"Why are you suddenly interested?"

You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest. 

Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)

Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.

Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.  

Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.

Virgins: like apples and honey

Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider. 

Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!

"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.

I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you. 

Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear. 

He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...

You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.   

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Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.

Smokers: old news paper and figs.

Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.

Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.

Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!

Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.

Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him. 

Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.

You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.

You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.

Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.   

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[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[rafecameron]

dance with me

summary: luke decides to step in and stop y/n’s friends from teasing her about never having a boyfriend. this leads to fake dates and real feelings.

pairing: luke patterson x reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fake dating, alcohol mentions

a/n: my second luke fic which took me way too long to finish because motivation deserted me. Gif is mine :)

It wasn’t a new feeling to feel somewhat left out and like a spare part. Y/N was more than used to her friends chatting away beside her like she wasn’t even in the room. She was sure it should have bothered her more than it did. Countless times people had asked why she put up with it, and the answer was always simple. Because they were her friends, at least one of them was. Yes the other two weren’t the greatest friends, she could at least admit to that. But she had known Jessica her whole life and now they were kind of part of the package, it was easier to be with them. And if she was being honest with herself she liked to sit on the outskirts, only listening in and never participating.

She wasn’t much of a talker. She enjoyed people watching and listening to her friends gossip, she could think of nothing worse than having attention on herself. Plus, if her friends were ignoring her it meant they weren’t pestering her about her love life. And that was something Y/N was more than thankful for. It started out harmless when they were younger. She was the last of her friends to hold a boy's hand. The last one to share a kiss. The last one to have a boyfriend (of course, because she still hadn’t). They had teased her about it.

“Oh, Y/N, why do you never go out? Why do you never have fun?”

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?”

“Please let us try and hook you up!”

But the meaningful pestering had slowly turned to more hurtful taunts.

“You’re so boring Y/N, you really need to lighten up!”

“You’ll never find a boyfriend if you don’t live a little!”

“Are you sure you want to come to the party? Everyone has a date, you’ll be alone like usual.”

She tried not to let it bother her. Rolling her eyes and shaking off her friends comments. She convinced herself she was fine on her own. She didn’t want a boyfriend and she certainly didn’t need one. She had considered finding one just to shut them up, but she couldn’t imagine dating someone just for the sake of it. She was old fashioned. She believed you should love wholeheartedly with everything in you. You should love truly and fiercely and definitely not give yourself away just to be included.

Y/N had seen her friends jump from one boy to the next, some not lasting more than a week. She didn’t want that. She would rather be seen as boring than throw herself at boys just for attention. She knew she had nothing in common with her friends and she also knew people wondered why they even hung out with her. But her friends were popular. And it was easier to be in the popular crowd and ignored than it was to be in the shadows and picked on.

It was near the end of lunch time when her friends finally noticed her again. Jessica was leaning against her locker, eyes locked on her compact mirror as she applied another layer of pink lipstick.

“You haven’t forgotten about my party this weekend, have you Y/N?” She asks before pursing her lips at her reflection.

Jessica was the girl Y/N had known the longest. She could stand Jessica. When they weren’t around everyone else she was back to being the girl she’d met when they were seven. Giddy and excitable, not caring what she looked like. But in public she put on the image of the perfect princess, and she definitely played it well.

“It’s your birthday Jessica, how could I forget?” She rolls her eyes with a smile gracing her lips.

Jessica snaps her mirror shut and forms her pink lips into a dazzling smile, “So you’ll be there?”

“Of course I’ll be there.” She agrees with a nod, she would call Jessica her best friend, she wouldn’t miss her birthday party for anything.

“Are you bringing someone?” Jasmine asks, her perfectly trimmed brow quirking up with her question, “We wouldn’t want you standing on your own in the corner like last time.” She smiles, tight lipped and fake as she waits for a reply.

She opens her mouth slightly, considering for a moment if it was a good idea to lie and say she was bringing someone, just to wipe the smug look from Jasmine's face. But before she can decide if that is a good idea or a train wreck waiting to happen a voice speaks up.

“Of course not,” Amber giggles, “Have you ever had a date before, Y/N?” Amber tilts her head, a smile just as fake as jasmines setting on her lips.

“No, but that’s okay,I don’t revolve my self worth around boys' attention.” She returns Amber's smile.

“That’s good! Because you don’t get any!” Amber retorts back with a laugh.

“Amber-“ Jessica begins to scold her friend but is cut off before she can begin.

“Hey, Y/N.” A voice from behind her catches everyone’s attention.

Jessica raises a brow at the boy behind her friend as she turns to see who exactly was greeting her.

“Oh, hi, Luke.” Y/N replies, her hand coming up in a small wave, she cringes at her own awkwardness.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight,” the boy smiles at her and she can’t help but forrow her brows.

She knows Luke from a couple of her classes but she can’t say she’s ever said more than a few words to the boy. Her memory wasn’t amazing but she was pretty sure she hadn’t made any sort of plans with the boy, he was practically a stranger after all.

“Uh, I-“ she begins to tell him that she has no clue what he’s talking about but he cuts her off again as if he knows what she will say.

“I know I said I wasn’t sure what we should do, but I was thinking we could catch a movie?” Luke raises both of his brows at the girl in front of her, willing her to just go along with it.

And if Y/N has learnt anything from her many years people watching she knows how to read signs, something finally clicking in her head as she quickly nods.

“Right!” She smiles, “Yes, a movie that sounds great! Is seven still good?”

Luke nods, a grin appearing on his face, “Seven, yeah, see you then.” He sends her a last nod before burying his hands into his pockets and turning away, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Y/N turns back to her friends feeling extremely confused but determined not to show it. Amber and Jasmine look somewhat annoyed but Jessica is practically bursting with excitement.

“Y/N!” She squeals and grabs her shoulders, “Why didn’t you say you had a date with that cute boy?” She shakes her friend for an answer.

The girl laughs, prying her friends hands from her shoulders, “I guess it slipped my mind.” She offers with a shrug.

“Slipped your mind?” Jessica she is sure is about to reprimand her but her scolding is cut off by the ringing off the bell, “I want all the details!” She finishes instead.

She sends her friend one last grin before grabbing onto Amber and Jasmine and pulling them down the hall while Y/N turns the opposite way and heads to literature. She couldn’t honestly say why Luke had come over to them but she was glad he had. The looks on her friends' faces when they thought she had a date was the best thing to happen to her in a long time.

She took her seat in the classroom, the room already almost full of students. The seat next to her was taken up by the boy who had stood in front of her just moments before.

“Hey,” she greets as she opens up her notebook, “What was all that about?” She asks.

Luke looks over to her, his desk empty of anything except a blunt pencil which he was rolling around with a finger. He shrugs, smiling as he meets her eyes.

“I guess I got sick of your friends always making fun of you for not having a boyfriend.” He replies like it’s nothing.

“Wait, you know about that?” She asks, a soft laugh leaving her lips, “I never realised people noticed.”

Luke nods, “I notice a lot of things. It’s not right, friends shouldn’t put each other down. I hate seeing it, so I thought I’d wipe the smirks off their faces. Thanks for going along with it.”

She offers him a genuine smile, “I nearly didn’t, I was so confused!” She admits causing him to laugh, “But thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply but the late bell sounds and the teacher shuts the door bringing the class to silence. So instead he sends her one last smile before averting his eyes out of the window, his finger still pushing the pencil he’d stolen from Reggie around his desk.

The hour dragged by slowly. She didn’t mind this class most of the time but she couldn’t get her mind to focus on the poem they were supposed to be dissecting. If there was one thing she could never grasp it was poetry. She found it beautiful and clever, but she couldn’t tell you what most of it meant. So when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the lesson she let out a sigh of relief and snapped her notebook closed.

“Not like poetry?” Luke asks with a laugh at her slightly dishevelled look after running her hands through her hair.

“If my life depended on understanding poetry I’d have been dead a long time ago.” She admits, and then frowns at the awkwardness of being death up in a conversation.

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t then.” Luke grins as he follows her out of the glass room.

The pair don’t get two steps away from the door before they are bombarded by a blonde in a pink dress.

“Why haven’t you replied to my text?” Jessica stresses, reaching out and grabbing Luke by the shirt as he tries to slip past her, “Are you bringing your new date to my party?” She deposits Luke back by Y/N’s side and looks at the pair expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, well I hadn’t actually brought it up yet.” She offers with a shrug.

“Well then you’re lucky I brought it up for you!” Jessica grins, “It’s on Saturday at nine, my house. I’ll see you there!” She waves to Luke before disappearing in the crowd of people.

Luke and Y/N share a look, one full of confusion, hopefulness and a tinge of awkwardness.

“Guess I’m your date to a party?” Luke asks with a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “No! No please don’t feel the need, I’ll just make something up.”

“So you don’t want me to go?” Luke asks holding a hand up to his heart, “I’m slightly offended.”

“I mean…” she bites her lower lip, looking around the hallway desperate for an escape which never came, “I just meant, it’s not necessary.”

Luke laughs, “I’m only messing with you,” he reaches out and taps her arm lightly, “But uh, i'll go, if you want. I kind of want to mess with your friends a little more.” He admits.

She raises a brow and laughs a little, “Like, fake date?” She asks, laughing again when Luke nods. She knows she should say no, roll her eyes and push him away, but the memory of Amber and Jasmines faces from earlier flashed back into her mind. This opportunity was too good to pass up on, it’s not like she was throwing herself at boys like she promised herself she wouldn’t, it’s all fake. And what’s the harm in fake dating a cute boy?

“Okay,” she nods, “Fake boyfriend, i'll see you there.”

------

The more she thought about it the more she was convinced she was crazy. Fake dating someone was one thing, but fake dating someone she’d never even held a conversation with? That was off the spectrum of crazy. How was she supposed to convince her friends that she was actually dating someone who she knew nothing about? What if they actually had nothing in common? What if when they finally do hang out they can’t stand each other? She supposed they could just fake break up just as convincingly as they fake got together. And she decided that was probably the best option. Break it off now before it got too out of hand for everyone involved. It was what she fully intended on doing. Her speech was already planned out and rehearsed multiple times on the walk to Jessica’s party.

She was going to walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and tell him it was a crazy idea and they needed to stop. She didn’t have time for a real boyfriend let alone a fake one and she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But as she rounded the corner and saw the boy waiting for her the plan fizzled out of her thoughts immediately and she found herself skipping over to him with a grin.

“Don’t you scrub up nicely.” She comments, tugging playfully on his shirt.

He had forgone his usual slogan tees with ripped sleeves and dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, a plaid shirt thrown on the top which she was sure she’d seen a friend of his wearing the week before.

Luke shrugs looking almost bashful for a second, “I didn’t want to stand out and show you up. You look nice.” He adds, finally looking her up and down.

She’d chosen a simple dress, dark blue in colour and stopping just above the knee, “Yeah well, I didn’t want to show you up.” She teases with a nudge of her elbow.

“I guess we should get this awful evening over with then?” Luke jokes, offering his arm to her to link hers through which she does instantly.

The party was already in full swing when they walked through the doors, her friends drunk to the point of not caring about her arrival which she was more than pleased about.

“I don’t really drink.” She comments as she grabs a can of cola from the table, Luke helps himself to one after.

“Me neither.” He smiles, “I’d rather know what I’m doing...And not look like an idiot.” He leans up to look over her shoulder at the girl stumbling around in her heels like bambi on ice.

She looks over her shoulder, letting out a laugh at the sight before turning back, “You mean you don’t want to look like that?” She grins and grabs onto his arm, “C’mon, there's nothing more annoying than drunk people.”

She leads him outside, pulling him down onto a bench beside her. The backyard was quieter than inside the house, fewer drunk people shouting and laughing and mostly just people chilling out.

“Honestly, I don’t really like parties.” Luke comments, taking a sip from his can, “I’d much rather hang out with some friends and chill.”

Y/N nods her head in agreement, “Same, but unfortunately my friends are the ones who throw all the parties.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you friends with them?” Luke looks over to her and raises an eyebrow in question, “You don’t really seem to fit with them.”

“Jessica’s my best friend, the others...Well, they’re friends with Jess so I guess I have to put up with them.” She shrugs, averting her gaze from his intense stare and looking down at her can in her hands.

“Yeah but you don’t have to put up with them being bitches to you.” Luke comments.

She lets out a laugh, leaning her head back against the bench and looking over to him, “It’s not that bad. It’s either that or sitting on my own everyday. And I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Y/N! Luke!” Jessica practically screams their names, stumbling through the patio doors and pulling her nights catch along behind her, “I’m so glad you came! Together!”

She leans down pulling her into a clumsy hug, almost knocking Luke out with her elbow as she pulls back.

“So! This is getting pretty serious, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at her friend causing her to laugh.

“Jess, it’s been three days.” She giggles, she feels Luke's hand grab hers and allows him to intertwine their fingers, “Three great days.” She adds on with a grin she was sure was the definition of cheesy.

“I’m so happy for you!” Jessica pouts grabbing onto her friends spare hand, “I guess this means you’ll be going to the dance together?” She gasps, the grin on her face radiating excitement.

“Uh,” She looks over at Luke expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Luke answers for them, squeezing her hand and shooting Jess a smile.

Jess lets out a squeal before the boy attached to her hand begins to tug her back inside complaining that it's cold. She rolls her eyes and mouths an apology before disappearing back into the throng of people inside.

“We don’t really have to go.” She begins to say quickly but Luke jumps up and pulls her with him by her hand.

“I don’t mind. And uh, as much as I dislike parties, we’re not going to annoy your friends if we sit out here all night.” He shoots her a cheeky grin before dragging her into the mass of the party.

They discard their empty cans on the kitchen table and head to the living room which has been turned into a makeshift dance area. The room was packed and Y/N already felt nervous about the idea of dancing and being surrounded by so many people.

“I can’t really dance.” She laughs, stopping in the midst of the drunk dancers.

“It’s not proper dancing,” Luke shrugs, he grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her into him, their chests pressing together as his arms snake around her back, “And your friends are watching.”

He smirks as she averts her eyes to the left, Amber and Jasmine watching their every move with matching scowls causing her to giggle. She lifts her hands and rests them against Luke’s chest, letting him move her along to the pop song which was playing too loudly.

“I don’t think we fit in.” She mentions, watching the couples around her grind against each other.

Luke laughs, “Well if you want to fit in.” He quickly spins her around, pulling her back so her back is pressed against his chest, “We can dance like this.” He whispers into her ear as his hands rest against her hips.

She feels her face heat up and lets out a laugh hoping to cover it up, “I guess this is more believable, but I’m not doing that!” She motions with her head towards the couple beside them who were grinding aggressively against each other.

“Deal.” Luke laughs against her cheek as he slides his arms fully around her waist.

Dancing with Luke for the whole night was not as torturous as she had expected it to be. They talked, at least as well as they could with the loud music. She found she got on with Luke quite well which she hadn’t expected. He was funny and sweet, his usual rugged appearance not one which matched his personality at all. When they finally decided to leave the party he offered to walk her home and she agreed. Their intertwined hands splitting apart once they were far enough away from the party to not be seen.

“It’s weird, having a fake boyfriend.” She comments, looking up to the night sky, the stars barely shining through the group of clouds overhead, “I almost like it. Like having a boyfriend but minus all the drama.”

“I thought you’d never had a boyfriend.” Luke laughs.

She shrugs and looks over to him, “From what I’ve seen with my friends I’m not sure I ever want a real one.”

“Well I’m glad I make an acceptable fake boyfriend.” Luke nudges her with his shoulder eliciting a laugh from her.

------

The following week at school was full of preparations for the dance, Y/N feeling more excited about it than she ever had before. This time she would actually be going with someone! Fake or not, it was still a lot more exciting than standing around alone for the whole night. She’d also spent the week getting to know Luke more. They were ‘dating’ after all so they had to hang out in public to make it look at all believable. He spent a lunch with her and her friends, but she didn’t blame him for hating every minute of it. Amber and Jasmine weren’t nice to her and they definitely weren’t nice to him.

She spent most of her lunches with him and his friends, having much more fun than she’d like to admit. She watched them rehearse, half of it actual rehearsing half of it messing around. She liked Luke’s friends and even started feeling a little bad about lying to them when Alex said how happy he was they were happy together. She found she got on with Reggie the best. He was silly and it was a nice change of pace to her own friends to be around someone who didn’t care what anyone thought.

She was also getting used to the physical touches, maybe too used to it. She noticed that Luke was a touchy person, he was always wrapping his arms around his friends shoulders and nudging them and that didn’t stop when it got to her. She now wasn’t sure if it was because of the fake relationship or because he really was like that with everyone. But she found she didn’t mind. She quite liked when he would hold her hand in the hallways or throw his arm over her shoulders when they were sat somewhere. She had to keep reminding herself that he only meant it in a friendly way.

Friday came around quickly and she took the day off from hanging out with like to spend time decorating with Jess, something they always helped out with for every dance.

“What colours your dress? Is Luke getting a matching tie?” Jessica asks as she helps her hang a banner from the ceiling.

Y/N was sat atop Jessica's shoulders struggling to secure the string to the ceiling, they knew they would get told off if a teacher saw them like this but neither could be bothered to go and find the ladders so they had to make do.

“I was thinking either blue or green,” She comments, her words muffled around the extra string in her mouth, “And I hadn’t even thought about ties.”

“He has to be matching! Otherwise you will look odd!” Jess complains.

She had always been way more invested in fashion than Y/N ever had, she didn’t really see the harm in Luke’s tie not matching her dress, but also knew Jess wouldn’t let it go.

“I’ll talk to him.” She mumbles out, letting out a cheer when she finally gets the banner to stick.

As she climbed down from Jessica’s shoulders she was met with a pair of blue eyes, her friend quickly slinking away behind her.

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jason asks.

She chews on her bottom lip, silently scolding her friend for abandoning her, “Yeah, sure.” She offers a smile.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to go to the dance with me? I know it’s a little last minute but…” Jason rubs the back of his neck with his hand, sending her an awkward shrug.

“Oh! Uhm…” She pauses for a moment at a complete loss for an answer. She was supposed to be going with Luke. But that wasn’t real, whereas this could actually lead to something, she was sure Luke would understand if she cancelled with him, she knew he never usually went to dances anyway.

But as she looked up to answer her eyes landed on the figure walking down the hallway towards them, Luke shot her a smile and raised his brows at the boy in front of her and she thought about how she felt when she was with him. Fake dating or not, Luke was her friend now, and friends didn’t cancel on each other last minute.

“I’m sorry Jason, I’m already going with someone. But thanks for asking me.” She offers him her kindest smile.

“No worries, I thought it was a long shot being this late.” He shrugs again and bids her goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

“What was all that about?” Luke asks, leaning against the locker in front of her with a curious look in his eyes.

“He asked me to the dance.” She answers.

“And?” Luke prompts.

“And I said no.” She laughs.

“You did?” Luke doesn’t try to hide the grin that appeared on his face, “Why would you say no? To an actual date, instead of a fake one?”

“I don’t know.” She fiddles with the bottom of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her, “I considered it, but it didn’t feel right, I didn’t want to cancel on you.”

“Well I’m flattered.” Luke laughs, “I was actually looking for you, what colour dress are you wearing? Jess just shouted at me about ties.”

She just rolls her eyes and links her arm through Lukes to pull him down the hallway.

------

Y/N paces on her front porch as she waits for Luke to turn up, part of her dress skirt scrunched in her hand to prevent her from stepping on it and tripping over. She had never felt so nervous before. She had to keep reminding herself that this is a fake date. Luke doesn’t actually like her and she’s sure the feelings she's starting to get are just results of faking sed feelings in public.

“Why are you out here?” Luke’s voice cuts through her worrying thoughts and she turns to him with a smile.

“My mum was bugging me about pictures. I thought it was safer out here.” She laughs, biting her lower lip at the sight of Luke stood on her porch, his suit fitting his body perfectly and his tie an exact match to the green of her dress.

“You look amazing.” Luke breathes out in awe, he holds his hand out to her and she gladly accepts it and lets him lead her down the steps.

“So do you.” She replies quietly.

The ride to the school is quiet but she’s acutely aware of Luke’s eyes flickering over to her during the drive. She doesn’t comment on it but the butterflies in her stomach go wild at every glance.

“Did you help put this together?” Luke asks as they enter the hall.

The hall was decorated with blue and silver giving it a wintery feel, balloons and streamers around the outskirts and hanging from the ceiling.

She shrugs, “I guess. Jess did most of it, I just helped.”

“Well it looks great.” He compliments.

They stand in the doorway sharing a glance before looking around the room, “So, I don’t usually come to these. What do we do now? I thought people would be dancing.”

She laughs and slaps his chest lightly, “People won't be dancing till later, once the punch has been spiked.” she grins and takes hold of his hand to lead him to one of the tables around the edge of the dancefloor.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised this is still a thing.” Jasmine comments as she sits opposite them, “Are you not bored yet?” She directs her question to Luke who shoots her a glare.

“Why would I be bored? She’s the most interesting girl I’ve ever met, she's actually real.” He comments back playing with her fingers in his.

Jasmine lets out a laugh, eyebrows raised as she lifts her drink to her lips as if she thought Luke was crazy, which she probably did.

“Where’s your date?” Luke asks.

Jasmine’s glass hits the table with a glare, “I’d rather be dateless than have whatever this is.” She points between the two before standing up and stomping off.

“Sounds like jealousy!” Luke calls after her and Y/N erupts into a fit of giggles beside him.

“I think she hates you more than she does me.” She laughs leaning into Lukes side.

The hall soon began to fill up with students, couples slowly making their way onto the dancefloor as the dance fully started. She had spotted Jessica and sent her a wave as the girl made her way to the dancefloor where she would stay for the entire night. Y/N wasn’t sure how to dance and she would take a wild guess that Luke didn’t know either, this didn’t seem like his kind of scene.

“Do you want to dance?” Luke asks as though reading her thoughts.

“You want to?” She responds.

“I can try.” He laughs and stands up motioning for her to join him, “Can’t come to a dance with an actual date and not have at least one dance.” Her cheeks heat up at the comment about it being an actual date, not sure if Luke meant it or if it was just a slip of the tongue, she didn’t point it out.

His hand finds hers as they walk to the dancefloor, finding a spot in the middle which she was thankful for, less likely people will see them there. Luke's arms wrapped around her waist and hers went around his shoulders, much like at the party except their movements were slower.

“Is this right.” He asks and she lets out a soft laugh.

“No idea, but it feels good to me.” She hesitates for a moment before leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest.

The stay pressed together for the next two songs in a comfortable silence before she decides to break it.

“Why are people staring at us?” She asks.

Luke hadn’t noticed but looks around at her question and notices a few eyes on them, he shrugs, “Because we’re the best looking couple here?”

She laughs and slaps his arm, pulling her head away from his chest, “I’m serious! It’s making me nervous.”

Luke sighs and squeezes her waist lightly, “I have no idea. Maybe people are just surprised to see us here together.”

She considers it for a moment before finally nodding her head, “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Luke watches her look around anxiously for another moment before he squeezes her sides again to bring her attention back to him.

“I know we haven’t been here long, but I think we’ve made our point, do you wanna get out of here?” he smiles down at her and she doesn’t have to think twice about nodding her head.

Once out of the building Y/N lets out a sigh of relief, “I didn’t realise how claustrophobic I felt in there.” She breathes out.

“Yeah, it’s tough work being surrounded by people like that.” Luke agrees, “I’d much rather hang out just us two.”

Luke drove them away from the school and to a park, the street lamps illuminating the play area which he led her to. They sat down on the swing set, both angled towards each other as they swayed back and forth slowly. They talked about anything they could think of; family, Luke’s band, memories, movies, music. They talked for what felt like hours before Luke jumped off his swing and held his hand out to her.

“What?” She asks as he leads her to a clear area.

“Well, we’re supposed to be at a dance right? So dance with me again.” He pulls her into his arms as she laughs at him.

“There’s no music.” She comments and he just shrugs.

“I was thinking,” He begins, looking around nervously as he bites his lower lip, “When you’re finished with me being your fake boyfriend, maybe you could let me take you on a real date?”

She felt her cheeks heat up a little bit and didn’t hide the smile growing on her face, “Well, maybe I’m done with you being my fake boyfriend now.”

Luke’s face lights up, his eyes finding hers again and looking a lot less nervous, “Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He asks.

He leans forward, his lips grazing across hers lightly before pulling her into a kiss. She felt like the world around her had stopped, the only thing indicating she hadn’t died and gone to heaven was the rapid beating of her heart. When he pulled away she pouted up at him.

“I only mind that you pulled away.” She replies, his smile being covered by her lips again as she pulled him close to her.

They stayed kissing and swaying in the silence until Luke finally said he should take her home. They planned their first real date for the next morning, because neither of them could wait longer than that.

tags: @rudyypankow​ @chrlsgillespie​ @crybabyddl​ @lovesanimals​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @alexpjoyner​

[nocturnalwildflower]

hurt; asher adams

summary: y/n finally opens up to asher about suffering from mental illnesses and self-harming

warning(s): SELF-HARM, depression, anxiety, cursing, mentions of parents dying, trauma, asher being cute af (not a warning but prepare yourselves hehe)

wc: 5.0k

A/N (PLEASE READ): I hope you all enjoy this and I lowkey got the idea from my own struggles with depression and anxiety, and I wanted to shine a light on self-harm although I haven’t experienced it personally. Please do not read this is self-harm or depression is a trigger for you as the whole basis of this one shot is self-harm and depression and the demons you face. Remember it’s okay to talk, and if you’re suffering, PLEASE get help. This one shot is an in-depth reality of depression that most people don’t know about and the aftermath of a depressive episode

masterlist ♡ prompt list

It was no secret to the Baker family that Y/N suffered with depression and severe anxiety because of her past. When Y/N’s parents passed away in a horrible car accident when she was only 6, Laura and Billy had no hesitation when it came to adopting her as one of their own as they were best friends with Y/N’s parents. It became apparent early on that Y/N suffered from depression and anxiety due to the trauma she had experienced, therefore the Bakers’ tried everything they could to make her feel safe, welcome and happy as well as sending her to therapy. The majority of the time, Y/N had a really good handle on things and went years without having a depressive breakdown, however, this year marked 10 years without her parents. The closer the day came, the more breakdowns she suffered, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why her parents had to die that day.

Not that she didn’t appreciate everything the Bakers’ have done for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder how much happier she would be if her parents didn’t die in that accident; how she wouldn’t be suffering and feeling like the only release was self-harming. She was too embarrassed to tell anyone how she was feeling, so she just resorted to self-harm as a way of releasing the pain, which seemed to be working. Her thoughts were interrupted when Billy knocked on her door and peaked her head in.

“Hey sweetie. No school again today?” he asked in a heavyhearted tone. Honestly, it broke his heart to see Y/N suffer with depression and begin her spiral into a depressive episode. He knew that there was only so much they could to for her, which included getting her a therapist whom she sees off and on depending on how bad her depressive breakdowns are. Y/N let out a sigh before responding.

“Next week, I promise!” she said in a somewhat cheery tone. Billy knew that this was just a ruse to get him to leave her room, however it did the opposite and he took a seat next to her on the bed.

“Sweetie, I think it’s time we put in a call to Dr. Morales and get you some appointments set up. We all love you so much and we hate seeing you suffer like this … please consider it,” he said, and Y/N’s eyes began to fill with tears. She knew that things were getting out of hand if he was suggesting therapy again, and she knew it meant she was going to have to face her demons yet again. Her lip began to quiver before she let out a cry, burying her head into his shoulder while he consoled her. She continued to sob, not knowing how to control her emotions and letting out as many tears as she could to get rid of the pain, even if it only a temporary form of release. Eventually, she had calmed herself down enough to speak to him.

“Billy, thank you so much for everything you and Laura have done for me over the past 10 years. I know this is hard to deal with, having a daughter with mental health issues, but I’m trying so hard to battle these demons like I have all the other times, it’s just too hard for me to do this alone …” Y/N said while wiping away her tears.

“You’re not alone Y/N. You have all of us here, and we will continue to support you until you are better. You know how much we love you and you know how much you’ve impacted our life, in a good way, but I think maybe it’s time to be honest with Asher about it … he’s going to find out eventually, and maybe if he knew what was happening, he could help you through this with us,” Billy said. He knew that having her boyfriend by her side through this battle would help her drastically; Y/N looked at him with a sorrow look in her eyes before responding.

“I-I know I need to tell him … I’m just not ready for him to see me this vulnerable yet. I promise, I’ll tell him when I’m ready,” she replied in a raspy voice. He smiled before giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her alone to be with her thoughts. No one knew she had been self-harming, so it was easy for them to leave her alone for the duration of the day; she hadn’t done it in a few days, and although there was a small voice inside her head that kept telling her to just pick up a blade and do it. She waited until she heard the front door close, signaling everyone was gone, before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. Y/N inhaled sharply before she opened the drawer where she kept her tools, staring at the blade for a few seconds, contemplating if this was the right thing to do and thinking about what Billy said to her. “We all love you so much and we hate seeing you suffer.” They loved her and they had given her so much, so why couldn’t she just let this go and stop? She inhaled sharply before picking up a blade, bringing it to her skin, and cutting, letting out a small whimper as the blood began to come out from her skin.

-

Back at school, Asher knew something was up with Y/N. The twins kept telling him that she was sick, but she had been dodging his calls and texts all week. He knew something was wrong because even if she was sick, there was no reason why she was avoiding his calls; usually all she wanted when she was sick was to cuddle with him and spend time with him. He decided to pull out his phone and text her one last time to see if maybe she was in the mood to talk about what was going on.

Hey baby, I know we’ve barely talked at all this week but I just wanted to say that you’re an amazing girlfriend and I can’t wait until you’re better so I can come see you!

He knew she more than likely wouldn’t respond, which wasn’t like her at all. To his surprise, his phone vibrated, and his face lit up when he saw that it was Y/N’s contact. The text was just a simple “You too,” but that was enough for him to have some concerns … she was always one to use emojis for almost everything and would usually get upset if he wasn’t using them enough.

“Okay guys, seriously what’s happening with Y/N? It’s almost like she’s fallen off the face of the earth, she’s hardly answering any texts, and she hasn’t been to school all week… I know she isn’t sick,” Asher said as he caught up to Jordan and Olivia after the final bell rang. Jordan let out a sigh, knowing that it wasn’t up to him and Olivia to tell him what was really happening with her however he knew they had to tell him something to get him off their backs.

“Asher, it’s just best that you talk to her yourself, it’s not up to Olivia and I to tell you what’s going on with her, it’s her choice on whether she wants you to know. I’m home by myself tonight, why don’t you come over and see her for yourself?” Jordan replied in a somewhat annoyed tone.

“Sounds good,” Asher said before getting into his car. He knew Jordan had a point, it wasn’t up to him and Olivia to tell him what was happening with his girlfriend. He hadn’t told her yet, but he was in love with her and cared about her more than anyone even realized. The boys on the team constantly made fun of him for how much he cared about her, but now he was beginning to think something else was going on with her. Was she cheating on him and couldn’t tell him? Did he come on too strong and force her into a relationship when she wasn’t ready? Did she want to break up and felt like couldn’t say anything to him about it? These thoughts kept flooding his mind from the time he walked in the door of his house until the time he left to go hang out with Jordan and get to the bottom of this behaviour.

-

Later on that evening, Y/N was sitting quietly watching her favourite show when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She already knew it was Jordan because he was the only one home that night, so she closed her laptop and told him to come in. He peaked his head in before opening the door wider to reveal her boyfriend Asher, angering her.

“Jordan, I said I didn’t want any visitors. Asher included!” Y/N said angrily. Jordan just shrugged before mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ and turning around to exit her room, leaving Asher alone in her doorway. She rolled to face the opposite side of the room in order to avoid looking at him, hoping that he would get fed up with her and leave, however this act did the complete opposite.

“Y/N, you’ve been couped up in this room for over a week now … You’re dodging everyone’s calls and texts, skipping school, sulking away in your room and shutting us out. This isn’t like you at all, what is happening?” he asked in a soft, loving tone. Asher wanted her to open up about why she was feeling this way, even though he knew it was because the anniversary of her parents’ death was coming up. He had seen it before, she usually got sad for about a week but was okay otherwise, however this was different and something he had never seen before; he has never seen her shut her friends out and completely isolate herself from the rest of the world.

“Asher go away,” Y/N mumbled to her boyfriend as she sat up, staring at him with a somber look. Asher moved closer to her, eventually sitting on the end of her bed and staring into her gorgeous eyes. He could tell something was wrong with her; her hair was up in a bun that looked like it hadn’t been taken out in days, her eyes were puffy, the colour in her face was gone and she looked like she hadn’t eaten in days either. He hated seeing her suffer like this and knew he had to do something about it.

“Y/N, please tell me what’s happening. I want to be here for you, but I can’t unless you open up and tell me what’s wrong,” he responded, keeping his eyes on Y/N.

“It’s been 10 years Ash, 10 years since I last saw or spoke to my parents and I can’t even explain to you how much pain I’m in because of it. I’m so fucking embarrassed that it’s come to this, I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about how I was feeling and tell anyone how bad my depression had gotten, so I found another way to cope with the pain …” Y/N replied in a somber tone. She inhaled sharply before lifting up her sleeve hesitantly and exposing her forearm. Realistically, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him; quite frankly she never wanted him to find out and she was hoping this would all blow over before she needed to tell him. Y/N tried her best to keep the tears from rolling for her face, but they slowly started to fall from her beautiful Y/E/C orbs. She felt like she was being weak, risking her relationship with Asher by being vulnerable and showing him how much she was struggling.

Asher kept his eyes fixed on Y/N’s forearm. There was a slight discolouration where she had cut her arm with a razor blade recently as well as some faded scars further up her arm. He felt completely infuriated with himself that he let his girlfriend go through this alone and that she felt like she couldn’t come to him for help. He knew something was up when she never wanted to spend the night with him, but he blew it off because he didn’t want to pressure her into anything she didn’t want to do. He began to ponder about why she never came to him for help, until he realized that he had been so focused on keeping his endurance up during the off season and focusing on the next football season that he completely neglected her. Asher took Y/N’s hand into his, interlacing their fingers while gently lifting her chin so their eyes met.

“Y/N I’m so sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me with this. I’m so angry that I let you go through this alone and made you believe that I wouldn’t support you. I want you to know that I’m still here, and I don’t plan on leaving. I’m here baby, you don’t need to hold on to this alone anymore because we’re going to get through this together. You have no idea how much better my life is because you’re in it, you have no reason to ever doubt this relationship and I’m not going to lose you because of your mental health,” he said, bringing his lips gently to her. More tears began rolling down her face as he continued to kiss her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer to him. She gently pulled herself away from him before speaking up.

“Ash, you were so busy with training and I didn’t want to bother you with this because-” she began before Asher cut her off.

“Y/N enough. You and your mental health are much more important than anything right now, I’m here for you and we’re going to get through this because I love you so much it fucking hurts. Watching you spiral into a depressive episode is not something I want to see happen and I would do anything for you, you know damn well I’m not letting you go through this alone,” he replied with a smile. Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach when she heard him say it. Those 3 little words. The words she thought she would never hear anyone tell her. I love you. She couldn’t believe that Asher Adams actually said that to someone like her when he just witnessed her in a state of depression. Y/N tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and looked at him with loving eyes.

“Y-you love me?” she asked in a quiet tone. Asher gave her a confused look and laughed.

“Who wouldn’t? Y/N, you are hands down one of the best people to be around and you always make sure everyone is always having a good time. You’re smart, kind, caring, beautiful … the list could go on all day. You have no idea how happy I was when you agreed to go out with me, and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done to help me and how happy you’ve made me. Now it’s time to get you back to being as happy as you were when we first started dating. I’ll say it again, Y/N Y/L/N I fucking love you, despite the demons you are currently battling” he said in a soothing voice, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers again. Y/N gently placed her hand on his neck and pulled him closer so that he was laying on top of her. She had to admit that it felt good to finally have this burden off her shoulders and she felt so much better now that Asher knew the truth. He pulled away and looked her up and down before speaking.

“Why don’t you spend the night at my place? You’ve been couped up in this room for over a week and a change of scenery might be good, plus if you’re up for it we could talk about all of this. Like I said Y/N, we’re going to get through this together because I love you,” he said in a soft tone, caressing her cheek and leaning in for one more small kiss. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes and smiled before she responded.

“I love you too … please take me home with you, that’s all I want right now babe,” she whimpered out in a soft voice. Asher proceeded to pack her a bag with everything she needed to spend the night at his place and grabbed her hand, gently leading her down the stairs and into his car. She had to admit that even something as small as leaving her bed made her feel better to some degree, but she knew this was only one small step towards beating this illness.

-

As soon as they walked in the door, Asher sat her down and made them both something to eat, making sure her meal was full of food that made her feel happy, however the smile on her face quickly faded when the food was placed in front of her. Demon #1: having to eat your first meal after a depressive breakdown. Asher picked up on this behaviour rather quickly and placed his hand in hers, grabbing her attention.

“I know it’s going to be hard for you to eat after that depressive breakdown, but you haven’t eaten in days baby. You need food in your system, please just try,” he said in a heavyhearted tone, earning him a half-smile and a small nod from his girlfriend. Truth be told, she didn’t want to eat; she was too embarrassed about what had just happened and was so emotionally exhausted to think about anything, her mind kept drifting and she kept thinking about how much she wanted this moment to be over so she could sleep the pain away. Y/N finished about half the food her lovely boyfriend had made for her, however this was more than enough to satisfy him, he was just proud that she tried for him.

After they finished eating, Asher took it upon himself to de-tangled Y/N’s hair from the bun it had been in before leading her to the shower and helping her strip down, knowing that she was too emotionally exhausted to do it all herself. He joined her in the shower, helping her wash her hair and comb it out, in addition to making sure her body was clean. He always kept a bottle of her shampoo, conditioner and body wash as his house, just in case she ever needed it while staying there. He made sure he had a warm towel for her afterwards and helped her brush her teeth; he picked her up bridal style, bringing her into his bedroom and gently laying her on the bed, staring into her eyes that were still as beautiful as the first time he looked at them.  

Y/N laid her head on Asher’s chest, eyes focused on the movie that was playing on the flat screen television in front of them. He was too busy admiring her, thinking about how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have a girl like her, despite what she was going through. Her breathing was stable and somehow, she seemed to look even more perfect than earlier; she was playing with the hem of Asher’s shirt and turned to face him, catching him staring at her. She gently pushed herself up, closing the gap between them and bringing their lips together when his hands found their way around her waist, positioning her body on top of him. Her hands found their way to his head, ruffling his hair up while he pulled her in tighter, moving his lips from her mouth to her neck while mumbling a quick ‘I love you’ and placing his hands on her bum, before she stopped him.

“Asher I can’t … I can’t have sex with you this just isn’t the right time,” Y/N said in a fearful but quiet voice. Demon #2: being intimate with him after he just saw you in a vulnerable state. She began to tremble and proceeded to let out a small cry, releasing the tears she was holding in and placing her head in the crook of his neck. He began to slowly rub her back and coo in her ear to calm her down.

“Woah Y/N, that’s not what I was doing my love. Of course I want to have sex with you and show you how much I love you, but right now if definitely not the time. You don’t owe me anything, especially not your virginity, I love you whether we have sex or not. Just come here, try to stay calm and breathe babe,” Asher cooed as he let Y/N sob into his neck. He continued to rub her back, knowing that the only way she was going to progress towards success was by letting her release all of her emotions appropriately and he continued to coo in her ear until she began to calm down. His shirt was absolutely drenched in her tears, however eventually, she had stopped crying, pulling away to look at her boyfriend before she took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I’m sorry Asher I-” she began before he cut her off.

“Y/N, no apologizing please. Are you okay? What do you need me to do right now to make you feel safe and comfortable?” he asked in a soft tone. She put all her focus into taking nice, big, deep breaths as he continued to rub her back until he was given any sort of direction from her.

“Just lay here with me and hold onto my tightly, don’t let go until I fall asleep,” Y/N responded in a calm tone. Asher happily positioned himself so that their bodies were in the perfect position, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight as she sighed in relief, giving him the impression that this was perfect; they laid there peacefully and quietly until they both snoozed off.

-

The following morning, Y/N woke up alone in Asher’s bed, knowing he was downstairs making her breakfast; he knew she hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep due to her anxiety and knew she would appreciate catching up on her sleep. She sat up on his bed and stretched, rolling onto the other side of the bed to check her phone; as expected, she had a text from Laura telling her that Billy and Jordan had filled her in on what was going on and reminded her that she was so loved in their family. She smiled, knowing that she had a wonderful family that will help her through this and an even more amazing boyfriend what would be by her side through all of the struggles. She shot a quick text back to her mom thanking her, just as Asher came around the corner with 2 plates of breakfast, placing one in front of Y/N. She noticed that her plate had a tad less food on it than his, which didn’t cause her much anxiety given the fact that she didn’t finish all of her food the previous night. He sat next to her on the bed and watched in awe as his girlfriend was eating, free of any nervous expression and looking like she was actually enjoying the food. He stayed quiet and let her enjoy her meal in peace before he spoke up.

“So your dad called me … you know that this means you’re going to have to call your therapist and start seeing him on a regular basis again right?” Asher said as his girlfriend took a sharp breath in. Demon #3: speaking to a therapist for the first time and admitting what you had was a depressive breakdown. She knew that this was coming, she just didn’t realize it would be so soon; Asher picked up on her body language and gently kissed her cheek while moving her chin with his finger so that she was facing him.

“You know that I’m here baby, you don’t need to go through this alone. I promise I will be here for you to make sure you take that little pill every day … hell I’ll even drive you to all of your appointments if I have to. Whatever it will take to help you get through this,” he said in a soothing tone. Y/N had to admit that he was taking this much better than she thought he was going to, and she kept hoping that he was going to genuinely keep his word to her about being there through all of this.

“I’m going to call them on Monday and make the appointment,” she replied in a low voice, resulting in a grin being plastered on his face. Asher slowly closed the gap between the two of them, bringing his lips to hers and caressing her cheek with one hand, while the other snaked around her waist, pulling her in closer. He couldn’t help but fall in love with her even more each time she found a new demon to battle and knowing that with all the love and support she was receiving from her family she was more than capable of beating them.

“Y/N, if you ever feel like you don’t trust yourself to be alone please call me. I don’t care if it’s 3am on a school night, if you don’t feel safe being alone I will come and get you, or I’ll stay on the phone with you as long as you need to me. I’ve said it 100 times and I’ll say it again, I love you so much it hurts, and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Asher replied giving her a kiss on the forehead and holding her close. It still absolutely broke his heart that she had been going through this for weeks without anyone knowing and she was still too scared to tell her own family that she self-harmed; but he made her a promise and he fully intended on keeping it.

Throughout the day, Y/N’s mood seemed to improved little by little, although it wasn’t exactly where Asher wanted it to be, he was still thankful that Y/N was trying her best. The couple had just decided to lounge around Asher’s place, listening to slow music and enjoying each other’s company while Y/N opened up to her boyfriend a little bit more about what had been going on with the depression. He was extremely proud of her for finally opening up to him about her situation and he was grateful that she trusted him enough to come to him so he could support her. The couple was currently dancing around his kitchen, being natural and goofy like they always were.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited JJ, Spencer and Jordan over to hang out with us for a little bit later on tonight … if you don’t want them coming I can tell them not to,” Asher mentioned while he and Y/N were cooking dinner. Demon #4: returning to socialization with your friends after you have a depressive breakdown. Although this made Y/N nervous, she knew that it was something that had to be done in order to get her back on the right track with her mental health; she nodded her head and pulled her boyfriend in for a loving kiss, when they head the doorbell ring.

“Speak of the devils,” Y/N joked with a smile. Asher reciprocated the smile as he went to the door to greet his 3 best friends. Obviously JJ pulled her in for a friendly hug and made some kind of joke about how he feels like he hasn’t seen her in a while, not knowing the real reason; mind you, Y/N wasn’t ready for anyone else except for her family and Asher to know what was happening. The boys had skipped along into the kitchen and sat down, however, Jordan stayed behind and had a proud look on his face.

“I’m glad this happened Y/N. I’m proud of you for being honest with Asher about what was going on and you know we’re all going to be here with you when you battle this disease again … no matter how many times your depression comes back, we’re here for you,” Jordan said in a small voice so no one else would hear their conversation. She gave her brother a hug, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ and letting a couple of tears fall from her eyes. She gave him a smile as she pulled away and quickly wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath, and joining the boys at the table outside.

As Y/N laughed at one of the lousy jokes JJ made, Asher couldn’t take his eyes off her and was genuinely happy to see her laughing and having a good time, even though he knew that this boost in energy and confidence wouldn’t last all that long; he was just happy that in that moment, she was truly enjoying herself. He knew that helping her battle her depression was going to be an uphill battle and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was planning on sticking to his word and staying by her side through this fight. He knew that his life wouldn’t be the same without her and all he wanted was for her to be better so they could move on to the next chapter of their lives together. All he wanted to do was help her beat this because he loved her, and he would do anything to prove to her that he was here to stay, no matter what it took.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 24

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

June 1999

The air smells wet and woody, birdsongs trilling in the early morning sun that trickles through a sky light. She stretches, then disentangles her legs from the sheets and stands, walking to the window.

There is a giant soaking tub in the corner of the room, flanked by two windowed walls that afford a sweeping view of the Cascade mountains, green carpeted hillsides meeting with a baby-blue sky.

She can still recall her mother’s face when they told her the wedding would be in Washington State. “But...we don’t even know anyone in Washington, Dana,” she’d said with a bemused expression, lamenting the length of their flights with a nine-month-old in tow.

Her mother’s reaction paled in comparison to Mulder’s excitement when she’d suggested the idea; she would spend their honeymoon relaxing with a book in the tub, and he could spend it traipsing through the woods looking for Sasquatch, or ‘squatchin’ as he called it. They would reunite in the afternoon, hiking, making love, catching up on all the conversations they’d missed while in the trenches of parenting a new baby. Mom would stay at the same resort with Molly so they could see her every day, while having precious nights to themselves; something they haven’t done since she was born.

She turns the tap on the bath, a blast of water thundering into the empty basin. When it’s full nearly to the brim, she disrobes and eases in, breathing deeply to inhale the juniper-scented steam, courtesy of the resort-provided bath salts. Closing her eyes, she thinks back over it all; their chance meeting, how she was drawn to him by a force that seemed to be bigger than them both, the anguish of wanting him but feeling like she owed it to Ethan to stay together. Her eyes snap open, a memory long-buried in the recesses of her mind springing forth like a trebuchet.

The day she met Mulder, she’d been planning to take the day off to go to a book signing for an author she admires. The signing was cancelled due to a scheduling conflict and she almost took the day off anyway, but had a last minute pang of guilt knowing that the workload that week was already heavy and Trudy would struggle to manage it all on her own. So she’d gone in, she’d performed that autopsy that should have been on Trudy’s docket, and she’d filled out the paperwork, and she’d met Mulder. How delicate the balance of the universe that such an insignificant choice completely changed the course of her life.

She suddenly misses him acutely, and a bundle of nerves and excitement flutters in her belly thinking about when she’ll see him next. She’d scoffed at the idea of them spending last night apart; they live together and have a child so the performative chastity seemed to be a bit much. He said it was like a fast, that a little time apart would make it even more special when they saw each other at the ceremony, and she ultimately acquiesced.

“Meet me on a mountain top at 4 o’clock tomorrow?” he’d asked as he backed out of her room, pulling away from the desperate kisses she was planting all over his face.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied with a smile, and they said goodnight.

She smiles again, sinking down until the water slips into her ears. She can’t wait to marry him.

———

He sits up and arches his back, his spine protesting the cramped accommodations. Looking over at Byers and Missy curled up in the king size bed, he regrets his decision to crash on the couch here instead of staying with Scully in their room. Not only because he slept like shit with his legs hanging over the end, but also because work takes him away from his girls so often, he’s an idiot to add another day to it if he doesn’t have to.

He stands, hands on his hips as he twists to stretch his angry muscles, and walks to the window, taking in the dense green hills and valleys that surround them. He smiles, because she could have asked to go to Mexico, or France, or anywhere on the entire Earth and he would have given her what she wanted, but she chose the place she knew he wanted to go. Selfless and giving to a fault, his Scully. Soon to be his wife.

He quietly slips on his running shoes and sneaks out of the room, hitting the hard-packed dirt trail the concierge had told him about. The quiet forest is the perfect place to be alone with his thoughts, nothing but the thud of his feet striking the ground and the twitter of waking birds to distract him. He thinks about his life, about being a child who was lonely and alone, with parents who provided food and shelter but not much more. He thinks about Molly, and how she will never know that kind of pain, that there will never be a day of her life that she is not told how much she is loved. He wonders if his dad ever felt about his mom the way he feels about Scully, and he knows it’s not possible that he did, because if so they would still be together.

He comes to a break in the trees and pauses, breath heaving and lungs burning as he watches a hawk gliding through the valley below, hunting for breakfast. How easily he could have missed this moment, he thinks. Even one small change to the trajectory of his life, and he never would have walked into the autopsy bay that day. If the courier hadn’t been sick, if he hadn’t stopped by Kirkbride’s office when he did. Even further back, if he hadn’t stayed with the bureau with the X files were closed, if Valerie hadn’t been there to encourage him, or if he hadn’t met Valerie one random Tuesday at a record store. The path was long and winding, and it led to her. It led to him on this mountaintop in a sweat-soaked T-shirt, smiling at the thought of his baby daughter, his almost-wife.

He picks up running again, the smile staying on his lips. He’s always felt like he was running away; from his painful past, his regrets, his bad decisions. Now he realizes he’s running towards; his future, a thousand opportunities yet unseen, a kind of happiness he never thought he’d know. He can’t wait for the rest of his life to start.

———

He stands in a clearing near the edge of a cliff, the lush green landscape toeing up against the horizon looking like crooked teeth. Frohike stands beside him in khaki pants and a white linen shirt, a leather folio clasped in his hands. Mulder is also dressed fairly casually, in slacks and a blue Oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed and the top button undone.

Scully wanted this to be as non-traditional as possible, to make it their own. There is no wedding party, no tuxedo, no flower girl or garter toss. No one will walk her down the aisle, as no one but herself has the ownership to give her away. The guests are small in number; immediate family only, plus the gunmen. Monica and Dahlia are house-sitting back in DC, minding Priscilla as well as the dog, King, that joined the family after the purchase of their house in March. Bucking the idea of arranging guests by whose “side” they are on, they all sit in a small cluster, and Scully will enter from the side.

He looks out and waves at Molly, who is standing on Missy’s lap, holding her hands and bouncing up and down forcefully. She squeals and shouts “dah, dah, dah!” which he chooses to interpret as “Daddy” even though Scully told him it’s just a nonsense syllable and doesn’t mean anything.

Langly gets the signal from Frohike and hits play on a small boom box, piping an instrumental version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” up into the branches of the towering evergreen trees. He expected to feel nervous at this moment, but all he feels is excitement as Maggie scurries out from behind a line of trees and takes her place beside Bill, giving him a smile and a wink.

Scully appears from around the same group of trees and he grins broadly. He’s seen the dress, they picked it out together, but the full effect is stunning. Her hair, now grown well past her shoulder blades, is curled softly and pinned half up, brilliant red tendrils shimmering in the midday sun against her porcelain shoulders. Her dress is full length pearl satin, a slim sheath cut with off the shoulder straps. She is holding a small bouquet of pink peonies in her hands, and holding his eye with a playful smirk.

She arrives beside him and before the music stops, before Frohike has a chance to begin, he steps forward and takes her by the waist, kissing her fully. The guests laugh and he pulls away to see a confused smile on her face.

“I couldn’t wait,” he says simply.

They move through the ceremony, exchanging rings and vowing to love each other forever; promises they’ve already made to each other a hundred times. As they near the part that Scully understands to be the end, Frohike goes off script.

“Mulder has prepared some words of his own, he’ll read them now,” he says, nodding toward his friend.

Scully’s eyebrows lift in a surprised and confused expression.

“Mulder, we didn’t talk about writing our own vows,” she whispers, afraid she’s failed to complete the assignment.

“It’s okay, these are for both of us,” he whispers, and then, taking her hands in his, he reads a passage from her favorite book from memory.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love; I have found you. You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely. A fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

The tear that slips down her cheek is borne only of happiness. She looks into his green eyes and sees contentment and love, and desire. It’s not a spark, what they have, nor an ember. It’s a wildfire, a white-hot torch, an eternal flame that binds them together inseparably. They were forged in fire the moment he laid eyes on her in that autopsy bay, maybe even before.

Frohike concludes, “by the power invested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride…again.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up as he kisses her deeply, a gust of warm summer wind picking up pine needles and tossing them in a mini-tornado that surrounds them both. Molly squeals “dah dah dah!” and claps for her parents.

———

She stands at the mirror, brushing her teeth. Her hair is combed out, her makeup removed, the white dress hanging in the corner of the room with the hem now tinged brown from the dirt that served as their dance floor.

Mulder appears behind her, an arm snaking around the waist of her satin nightgown. She smiles at the sight of his newly ring-adorned hand pressed flat against her belly, then leans forward to rinse.

“Ready for bed?” he asks softly, and she nods.

They slip beneath the cool sheets, curling around one another face-to-face; her leg threaded between his, his arms around her back, foreheads touching. She draws in a big breath and lets it out slowly, contentment settling deep in her bones.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen in exactly the way they did to lead us here?” he asks, and she pulls back a little to look at his face.

“Yes, I was actually just thinking about that earlier,” she says with a curious lilt.

“Makes you wonder, huh, what lives we’d be leading if even just one detail were changed,” he says, tracing his finger along her shoulder blade.

“I don’t think it would have mattered, actually,” she says, and he gives her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate. “I know this will sound a little far-fetched coming from me,” she begins with a self-conscious smile, “but I think it was always going to end up this way. Even if we hadn’t met when we did, we would have crossed paths some other way. Looking back over everything, it just seems like this was meant to be the outcome, even if the path to get here could have gone in a lot of different directions.”

He ponders this, remembering a conversation they had over coffee when, against all odds, she reappeared in his life.

“Like there was only one choice, and signs along the way to pay attention to,” he says contemplatively, lifting his hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Exactly,” she replies, pressing her lips to his briefly, “it was always going to be you.”

END

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[geminidentitycrisis]

Fatgum x F!reader "What a Hero SHOULD do"

Whew.

You guys.

I've been gone a long while, life has been a rollercoaster, but I don't really wanna get into all that noise. Just happy to be in a good place right now.

That said, this was painful to write because I had planned the ending very differently...

I'm not officially in the bnha/mha fandom but, I just got into it recently and wanted to show some love to my favorite Pro!

Hope you guys like it!

I haven't written anything in a while, so please go easy on me...

_____________

(WARNING! Mild angst)

"Hey, Fat...can I ask you something kinda personal...?"

Fatgum glanced down at his young intern with an eyebrow raised, tilting his head in curiosity. "Huh? Oh, sure. What's on yer mind?" he gave an encouraging grin to put Kirishima at ease. The red head craned his neck to look up at his boss, his own mouth twisted into a small frown.

"Have you asked _______ on a date yet...?"

He stumbled a bit but keeps walking, caught off guard by the question, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Woah, where did that come from?!" he asked in return with a nervous chuckle. "Well..." Kirishima continued "You guys seem really close. The way you look at her when you see her-"

"Hahaha!" the burst of anxious laughter interrupted and Red Riot looked up at Fatgum again in confusion. "You're reading too deep into it, man! We're just friends! Heh..." Toyomitsu tried to act casually, but it wasn't working at all.

Kirishima pouted a bit, deciding to push a little harder.

"...but, I think she has feelings for you, too-" the blonde stopped walking and stared down at him, his blush growing darker and spreading across the bridge of his nose, cutting him off again. "Okay, let's change the topic, huh? Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch..."

Eyes widening a bit, Red Riot raised both hands defensively and shook his head. "No, no! I'm sorry...I won't mention it again..." his expression became one of defeat and disappointment, shoulders slumping as he continued to walk, staring down at the sidewalk.

With an inward wince, Toyomitsu followed close behind, his own gaze dropping to the ground as well. Silence passed between the Pro and his sidekick for several minutes before Fatgum spoke up again.

"Honestly, she deserves better..." he mumbled.

This was a surprise to Kiri, his mentor was always inspirationally self-confident, it was disheartening to hear such a comment from the man he so deeply admired. He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself when he remembered that he had already promised to drop the subject.

He felt bad for bringing it up now.

_______ was a sweet lady, she was funny and friendly, vivacious and beautiful, generous, tough and a fantastic cook. All Kirishima wanted was to see them both happy together. When they spotted each other through the window of the diner, their eyes lit up, a smile instantly formed on their lips, they would practically start glowing.

She always ran to jump into his arms, hugging around his neck, never failing to say how she missed him. He caught her every time, hiding his face in her hair as he hugged her back and would say he had missed her too, but especially her cooking!

If that isn't true love, Kiri thought, then what is...?

They finally made it to the diner and stopped outside. Fatgum looked through the window, and when he didn't see ______ anywhere, glanced at Red Riot again with a frown. "Listen, can I count on you to keep that little conversation between us? I don't want ______ to know how I feel..."

"You're not sick, are you??" a soft voice piped up from beside Toyomitsu.

It made both of them jump, startled. Fatgum whipped his head around to see ______ standing there, instead of her pretty smile, her face was flooded with worry at the thought of her Hero being ill or injured.

The Pro forced a crooked grin as the blush returned to his cheeks. "N-no, no, I'm fine! How's it goin'...?" he stuttered weakly.

She was clearly not convinced, the concern in her bright (e/c) eyes only deepened. "C'mon...all this time we've known each other, you think I can't tell when something's bothering you...?" he started to panic a bit but Red Riot swooped in to save the day like the rising star he was.

"Aw, he just had a big breakfast, that's all...he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings if he can't finish lunch." Kirishima answered casually with a lightly teasing undertone, arms crossing over his chest. She looked from him up at Fatgum who responded to her questioning expression with a sheepish grin and shrug.

At this, her smile bloomed in place, eyes twinkling mischievously as she playfully elbowed his broad, squishy belly. "Oh, c'mon! When have you ever left here without takeout, even after filling up?! As if it matters..." she giggled, hopping up into his arms as always, chin resting on his shoulder as she nuzzled against him sweetly.

"I'm just happy you're okay...I missed you!"

Bending at the waist with his arms extended, the blonde caught her effortlessly when she hopped up for the hug, sighing and closing his eyes as he rises to his full height, squeezing the small girl gently.

"Ahh, I'm fine, I'm fine...I missed you too..."

Kirishima gave a soft smile as he watched the exchange, dropping himself into the patio chair where he always sat when they came to the diner.

When he set her down, ________ smiled from him to his sidekick. "Your food should be done soon. It's a new recipe! I hope you guys like it!" then she waved over her shoulder as she walked back inside. Exhaling softly, Fatgum turned to sit as well. He glanced over at Red Riot, blushing a bit, only for it to get worse when he notices the toothy grin he's being flashed.

"...Oh, knock it off..." the pro grumbles, arms crossing and lowering his eyes to the tabletop.

"I didn't SAY anything...~!" Kirishima taunted childishly, arms folding behind his head as he leans back and closes his own eyes. "You didn't have to, punk." Tai shot back in typical big-bro style, reaching out across the table to muss the teens perfectly sculpted hair. "Aw, quit! It takes 40 minutes to set every morning!"

Fatgum chuckled, eyes rolling.

After some minutes passed, _______ returned with another server, both carrying trays of food which they placed on the table in front of the two heroes. "Wow! It looks so good!" they said simultaneously, earning a laugh from her.

"Well, I hope you like the taste even more. It's a cheeseburger-tater-tot-casserole. Dig in!" wasting no time, Kirishima and Toyomitsu start chowing down, both groaning happily around mouthfuls of the meal and nodding in approval. "Mmm...!" _______ laughed again, giving a thumbs up.

"Glad to hear it! I'll be right back with your drinks."

She left again but came back quickly with two pitchers and a cup, putting them between their plates. "Yer an angel, _____." Fatgum said with a grin, taking one of the pitchers and starting to drink from it. Red Riot snickered quietly before sipping his own drink.

"Oh, I just remembered! Check this out!" she said cheerfully, reaching behind her neck and starting to untie her apron. Upon glancing at her and noticing this, Fatgums eyes grew wide and a dark blush pooled in his cheeks, choking slightly on the ice water. "...?!"

Kiri froze, his eyes getting big as well and blushing slightly.

She dropped the top, revealing...

A tank top. With a picture of a sombrero. It said "If you don't like TACOS, I'm NACHO type"

Red Riot started laughing, covering his eyes with a hand as he tipped back his head. "Cute, right?!" she asked enthusiastically, looking from one to the other. Smiling weakly, Fatgum gave a slow nod. "It's great...really clever..." he wondered if steam would rise off him if he poured the rest of the water down his neck.

"Yeah, I knew I had to have it when I saw it. Anyway," she started to fix her apron again. "I'll let you guys finish eating. Let me know if you need boxes and your takeout oughtta be done before you get done with those. Enjoy!" with that, she walked off.

The blonde watched over his shoulder as she left before sliding his plate out of the way, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them.

Grinning, Kiri nudged his foot under the table. "DON'T. SAY. A WORD." this reply only got him to laugh again, head shaking as he resumed eating. "Whatever you say, boss..." the red head hummed.

Between them, they were able to clear their dishes, waiting by the front door for the takeout, both content and full of tasty food. "Alright, guys. Here ya go! I'm glad you liked lunch, lemme know when you wanna try it again." Tai smiled down at her when she came out, taking the bags gratefully. "Yeah, definitely. Will do!"

______ hugged Kirishima tightly, pulling him down to place a kiss on his forehead, surprising him and making him blush faintly since she hadn't done it before. "Be safe, young man, you hear me?" she demanded. He answered with a broad smile and a nod. "Gotcha!"

"Ooh, do I get one of those?" Fatgum asked half jokingly, blushing too. Some color rose up on her cheeks as well, giving him a warm smile as she reached up for the BMI hero.

He put down the food to pick her up again for another hug, chuckling softly when she pressed a tender kiss against his cheek. "Aw, that was sweet!" Kirishima called up to them, earning a swift kick to the ass. "Ow! Hey!" the red head complained, rubbing the spot.

He set her down carefully with a deep sigh. She didn't let go of his arms and he looked at her in confusion. "Please be careful out there, Taishiro...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you..." he grinned, placing a hand on her head. "I will. I'll be back before ya know it!"

She pressed herself into his tummy, coming nowhere close to being able to wrap her arms around him but she gives him her best hug anyway. The pro didn't have to look at his intern to know he was smirking smugly. He hugged her back before stepping away to grab his bags again. "Well...see ya, _____."

He waved, smiling, then turned so they could head back out. They only took a few steps before Fatgum stopped and glanced back at her over his shoulder.

She was still there, offering another small smile and wave of goodbye.

"C'mon, man! Just go for it! You TOTALLY got this!" Kiri urged desperately. But he was still hesitant. It wasn't an issue of his own self-confidence, but his career. He was so busy that he would hardly have time for you, and the way Toyomitsu saw it, you deserved to be waited on hand-and-foot.

He dreamed about being with you, which meant his worst nightmare would be a villain or criminal using you as leverage against him. It was best to leave things the way they are. It's what he SHOULD do.

A real Hero isn't so selfish as to put their own desires ahead of the safety of those they cherish, he reminded himself. With a heavy heart, he forced a smile to hide the pain and waved back before looking down at the ground and sighing, eyes closing slowly.

"...I just...can't...

[16woodsequ]

Weekly headcannon ask!

Do you have any headcannons or opinions on Steve and his dads relationship?

Hi! Sorry this took a bit, but here we are!

I do have some headcanons about Steve’s dad, and because I’m me, a lot of them are pretty angsty, so be warned!

TW: discussion of child abuse, ableism, and alcoholism

So first off, we have to talk about whether or not Steve’s dad is even alive. I’ve discussed this a little in a previous headcanons post, but Steve’s dad is technically dead in the mcu. Steve says he died of mustard gas. In the comics of course, Steve’s dad makes it home from the war, and is generally a terrible person.

I usually headcanon that Steve lied about when exactly his dad died. If Steve’s’ dad made it back from the war, then I headcanon he was a gas casualty at some point, and had lung issues afterwards. If he then died from something like influenza, then Steve could technically claim he died from mustard gas, without it being 100% a lie.

I headcanon that Steve does this, because I headcanon that Joseph Rogers (if he survives the war) is abusive. I imagine Sarah Rogers told Steve that he came back from the war a different person, and I can see Steve thinking to himself that the mustard gas killed his dad, just slower.

So anyways, that is an easy way to work around Steve’s claim that his dad died from mustard gas. If Joseph was abusive I can see Steve sort of wishing his dad had died in the war like he claimed. 

Joseph Rogers’ A+ Parenting

I haven’t read the comics, so I am not sure if any of them expand on why exactly Joseph is abusive, but I imagine it has a few layers to it. For one, he is a veteran who is no doubt dealing with trauma in a time period when the effects of shellshock are not fully recognised. Alcohol is a common self-medicating tool, and I can see Joseph turning to that for relief.

Add onto that Joseph being a gas casualty, I usually headcanon that it is harder for him to breath after the war. PTSD and difficulty breathing would be a frustrating loss of control for someone like Joseph, and that isn’t even taking into account the daily stress of living in poverty as an Irish-Catholic.

And then there is Steve himself. Steve is chronically ill. He wouldn’t be the ideal son. His illness would cost money, and his breathing problems would probably remind Joseph too much of his own issues.

Ableism would be an easy thing for Joseph to latch on to. Eugenics was popular in that time period, and I can see Joseph seeing Steve as the embodiment of a lot of his anger. He went to war and barely made it back to his wife and child, but his child is sickly and can hardly breathe, and when he gets sick he uses up money that they don’t have.

Of course, Joseph wouldn’t be helping anything. I imagine he would have worked as much as he could, but it is debatable how well he could hold a job. I usually headcanon that he died right before the Great Depression, so he didn’t have to deal with that, but even if jobs were more available in the 1920s, I think his alcoholism would be his worst enemy and lose him jobs every couple of years or so, if not more frequently.

Sarah would be working too, since working class women would be more likely to work than middle class women, but I can see Joseph being sore about that too. I imagine every time he lost his job he was extra bitter about the fact that he had to rely on his wife’s work to survive. Toxic masculinity was deeply entrenched in that time period, so feeling emasculated would not have helped Joseph’s mood at all. 

As for how often he drank, it is kind of hard to say. Technically prohibition was going on, but it was easy enough to drink in speakeasies most of the time. I’m not sure how easy it would be for him to buy alcohol and drink it at home, but it would be realistic for him to come home drunk.

Even if he had work that could be the case, since I imagine his work buddies would often go out for a drink after their shift. Of course, Joseph’s drinking would do nothing to help the financial situation of the family.

Joseph and Steve

I imagine Joseph was abusive and was a violent drunk, but while I think he hurt Steve, I don’t think he regularly beat him to a pulp. This is mostly because if he did that, then Steve would die. Steve is sick enough that I don’t think he would survive regular all-out beatings.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Joseph didn’t grab, push, hit, etc. But I think his anger tunnel-visioned on things, so if he were distracted away from it, or Steve managed to get out of the general area, then his focus would be taken elsewhere.

I think Joseph did a lot of damage with his words though. I imagine he yelled a lot about Steve’s inadequacies and how Steve is a waste of money, etc. That kind of thing would stick with Steve for a long time, and I can see him trying to be the least of a burden possible in response.

In general, living with Joseph would put anyone on edge. Even when he wasn’t actively hurting people, he could still get mad over basic things that remind him of his helplessness. Being around him would be like walking on eggshells. I imagine young-Steve flinched at loud noises and slamming doors, and yelling, but also tried not to show it, because his dad didn’t like him ‘being a coward’.

Also, I headcanon that adult Steve never really liked the smell of alcohol, especially on other people. I think part of him was a little glad that the serum made it so he couldn’t get drunk, because that means he can never get violent like his dad. I think Steve was always a little afraid of letting his temper get the best of him after the war, and so he tried to bury his feelings instead of dealing with them, because he didn’t want to turn out like his dad. 

Good times

As all humans, Joseph would have his good days. Maybe he found a new job, or maybe something else put him in a good mood, but sometimes he would come home without being angry.

Those would be hard days too, in a way, because Steve and Sarah wouldn’t know if something would set Joseph off—and some days, acting worried that he will get mad would be enough to make him mad.

But I think Steve must have at least a few good memories of his dad. Maybe his dad being proud of him for a good grade in school, or maybe even being proud of him for facing off against bullies and telling them what’s what.

I think sometimes Joseph would try to treat Steve as though he were the son he wanted. He would chat with him about things they could do together ‘as men’, or he would tell him stories of his own boyhood days...but then, inevitable Steve would get sick again, and Joseph’s good humour would wash away.

Others and Joseph

I don’t think Joseph’s abusiveness was a very well kept secret. Tenement building walls are thin, and I imagine the neighbours knew what was going on. But I doubt Joseph was the only loud/violent drunk in the building.

Bucky might not have known the full extent of what was happening—because he was a kid—but he would have seen some of the bruises, and maybe Steve’s initial cautiousness around his own dad, and he would come to the correct conclusion. I don’t think Steve talked a lot about what was happening, but he would probably talk about his dad getting angry about certain things, or breaking stuff sometimes.

I imagine Bucky’s mom knew more about what was going on, and would do her best to help Sarah out, but Sarah would be in a tough spot. Divorce and single-motherhood were generally frowned upon, and her poverty would also make it harder to leave Joseph.

As for Steve’s teachers etc. I think most of them suspected too. But I don’t think much came about from it. Interesting fact, doctors were not legally required to report child abuse cases until the 60s.  

Joseph death

This is a headcanon I’ve had laying around that I haven’t been able to put anywhere yet, but I headcanon that Joseph died of influenza when Steve was between 8 and 10. Given their poverty, I think Joseph would have died at home, which is kind of horrible, since that would mean Steve was around to watch his dad get sicker and sicker, and then eventually die.

As an extra cruelty, I think Joseph would be pretty peeved at dying this way, and I can see him vindictively telling Steve that he will die this way too one day, since he gets so sick all the time. I can just see Joseph being spiteful and saying something like that while Steve is trying to look after him while Sarah is working.

MCU canon Joseph

I also have a few thoughts for if Joseph did die in the war, and didn’t come back. I’ve seen content speculating that Steve wanted to join the army because his dad was a soldier. I don’t know if the comics say that anywhere, but I usually headcanon otherwise.

I think having a father who died in war (or having an abusive one afterwards), and seeing what that did to Sarah, Steve would know all too well what war could do to people. 

No doubt Steve’s father would be on his mind while he tried to enlist, but I think saying he wanted to join mainly because his father was a soldier takes away from the heart of the reason Steve wanted to join—he felt like Hitler needed to be stopped, and he didn’t have a right not to do something about it.   

Well, that got longer than I thought it would, but I hope you enjoyed! 

Headcanon masterpost

[almightyellie]

patience

in which you and gwilym are simply two fools. two blind fools.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i have nothing to say about this, i just found it in my docs and 1) thought she was kind of cute and 2) was feeling mad soft for gwil so.......bon appetit

title song: patience // the lumineers

He’s been bouncing between different groups all night long, but he has yet to make his way to you. He's always gotten a touch too friendly after a few drinks, suddenly friends with everyone in the bar, but especially with you.

It’s been a while. A little too long since you’ve seen one another, and you hate how different it feels. You used to be attached at the hip, stealing sips of each other’s drinks and finishing each other’s jokes and annoying the rest of your friends, but he’s barely looked at you all night. Deep down, in a way, you feel bitter about it; he hadn’t spoken to you since before he left to film his latest movie and now it feels as though he’s completely forgotten who you are.

Usually, you two would be terrorizing the dance floor, or catching up with the rest of your friends, but you resign yourself to sullenly stirring your drink, watching your friends laugh and get along from a distance. In reality, you’re being petulant, and you know that Gwil doesn’t owe you anything, even if you really, really want him to, so you can’t be mad about him not paying attention to you. Even so, you think you’ll pay for the single drink you’ve been nursing all night and head home to wallow in your own self pity. You and Gwilym were close and as such, you shouldn’t have to prove it to one another by sticking to each others’ sides all night. You should feel secure enough in your friendship that him talking to everyone in the bar beside you shouldn’t bother you one bit. You would never admit that you were disappointed by his lack of interest in you all night.

Butterflies had been fluttering in your stomach all week, excitement and anxiety burning you up. Your outfit had been agonized over and you’d spent extra time to look your best for someone who had, on occasion, held your hair back in an alley or a crowded bathroom while you emptied the contents of your stomach. God, you were sick of this. You hadn’t even gotten so much as a smile as a greeting, and at this point, you wondered if he even wanted to say anything to you, so you flagged down the bartender to contribute a bit to your friends’ collective tab.

After you toss down a twenty, you slip your wallet into your purse and step gingerly off your stool, adjusting your jacket and filtering through the crowd to get yourself out. You’re not five feet from the door when a large hand grabs your bicep, and you hadn’t had much, but your reaction time is still just a touch slow when you’re pulled into Gwilym's familiar body heat, his cologne musky as he traps you against his chest.

“Where’re you going?” He huffs, holding you tightly.

You grunt, your night soured by your bad attitude—by the inattention from your friend until it meant you were leaving. “Home.”

You spare a glance up at him to see an exaggerated frown, eyes hazy from the many beers he had undoubtedly consumed. “What? I haven’t even talked to you yet.” He pouts. You’re finally getting the attention you wanted and despite your bad attitude, your heart still flutters at the close proximity. Up close, he’s even more intoxicating than he had looked from across the room, and it takes everything you have not to melt into his arms and hold him close until he’s begging you to let him go.

Even still, you’re stubborn enough to try to push him off of you when his head dips, beer-tainted lips pressing into your cheekbone as he buried his nose in your hair. “Gwil,” you whine, hands planted on his chest. He just giggles, breathing you in. “I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“I wanna catch up with you. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever.”

“Funny, how that works,” you snark. He doesn’t let up on his tight hold, humming contentedly.

“You smell nice,” he says softly, pulling away with a dopey grin. You try to break from his hold once more and he finally glances down at you, his smile falling into that frown again when he sees that you aren’t, in fact, laughing along with him, but pushing him away. “Why’re you mad at me?”

With a huff, you push at his chest again, finally free from his arms. Part of you wishes you weren’t so bull-headed because that confused, hurt glimmer in his eyes makes your knees wobble. “I'm just tired, Gwil.” He doesn’t say anything. You don’t think he knows what to say, so you sigh. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“I missed you,” he finally offers, voice small.

You smile thinly. “I missed you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

He kicks himself the whole rest of the night.

The next morning, you think at the very least, you’re glad you didn’t drink much, because you’re functioning enough to get some work done while you eat breakfast, and you mill around most of the morning, thinking of Gwil when you get a moment of extended silence. You really should call him. Those eyes flash in your mind every time you think of him, hazy and hurt, and it upsets you knowing that you had allowed your tantrum to ruin your reunion.

Just after lunch, while you’re contemplating for the hundredth time whether or not to call Gwil, a knock sounds at your door, one you’re certain comes from him.

You’re glad to see him, dressed sharply on your porch with a few flowers gathered in his hand. You laugh softly when you see him, ushering him in and accepting his greeting hug. “Looking spiffy,” you tease. “Are those for me?”

His eyes flit down to the flowers and he nods decisively, holding them out to you in a shy movement. You smile, eyes narrowed in puzzlement, and you take them before waving for him to follow you to the kitchen in search of a vase.

“What’s up, Gwil?” You ask casually, admiring the flowers in your hand.

He takes in a sharp breath, smiling nervously at you, and you hum, your brows drawing together in confusion. “I was going to do this last night, but then I...chickened out, and then I was drunk—I was terribly drunk—and then you were upset with me. I figured it was better for me to do this while we’re alone, anyway.”

Oh?

You lean back against your counter, watching him curiously as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, and you wonder where he’s going—or where he’s come from—because he truly does look nice, and you won’t allow yourself the fantasy where he’s dressed up only to bring you flowers and tell you something important. It’s bordering right on daydream material and if you spend too long staring over that edge, you’ll fall right off, something you simply cannot afford to do when he’s looking so severe before you.

“Okay…” You drift flatly, your brow arching in confusion. “What are we talking about?”

Gwilym clears his throat; it’s rare you get to see him so worked up. For all his charms and faults, Gwilym Lee is a confident man; clever, too, and to find him at a loss for words is unlikely, if not impossible. Here he stands, though, shifting on his feet as he fights to find the right words. “We haven’t talked in a while,” he starts. You offer a humorless snort, one that lights up his blue eyes with guilt. With pursed lips, you nod. “I missed you so much while I was gone but every time I went to call you I just...froze. And I've never felt that with you. I’ve never felt nervous to talk to you.”

Oh.

Your head turns minutely as you begin to trail his words, slowly catching his meaning before he’s even there. “And then I realized that it’s because I want to impress you and because I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing because I like you and I want you to like me.” You open your mouth to respond, your stomach twisted into excited knots, but he’s already off on one of his tangents. “And then I saw you last night and you looked beautiful and I didn't get to tell you that. You looked so beautiful that I lost my nerve, so I had a couple of drinks to calm myself down and then I was drunk, and I didn’t want to tell you when I was drunk, but you know how I am when I’ve had a couple, so—”

Even if you wanted, you couldn’t stop your giggle from escaping, and you clap a hand over your mouth. He stops, watching carefully as your shoulders continue to shake with quiet laughter. “You are so daft,” you finally say, words still tainted with the lift of your laugh.

“I know,” he agrees, eyes shifting nervously, curious as to how you’re reacting to his words. Your chest feels as though it could burst, tight and warm with long-held affection that only seems to reach brand new heights

“Are you aware that I left early because I wasn’t getting enough attention from you?” You finally ask, hands swinging to grab one of his.

His shoulders sag in relief. “You did?”

“And that I spent all night wondering why you could barely even look at me, and when you caught me at the door, I still wanted to kiss you,” you admit, eyes lighting up at the sight of his bright grin.

“And you didn’t,” he teases, allowing you to pull him closer to you.

“You were drunk,” you point out, sinking into him when a large, warm hand settles on your waist.

His eyes sparkle with a bit of mischief. “I’m not drunk now.”

And who are you to fight with that kind of logic?

[asciendo]

I’m not going anywhere

Make it Right Series Chapter 19

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand him so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 16/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Tag list:  @empty-glass-full-of-emotion @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91@princess-peaches1 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag

You ran to the back house of the Scouts HQ, it was abandoned and you and Jean would often sneak off in between training. You sat by the lake at the back of the house and burst into tears.

You knew he'd eventually find you, but you needed time to be alone before he did. Your heart felt like it was breaking—how could you be so stupid? So reckless? You wanted a family of course, but how the world is now, the titans, being trapped inside the walls with so many unanswered questions, and now you're bringing a child into this world?

Also, the thought of not being out there with the rest of the Scouts, you felt like you failed them. They needed you, and you couldn't do anything in your state.

Jean. You felt like you were ruining his life. He felt like he needed to protect everyone, now you added another person to that list. You started to curse at yourself for thinking about your child as a burden—but thinking about all that has happened, all the death—you did not want your child to experience all of that.

as you watched the water flow in front of you, you started wonder what the baby would look like. Would it have your H/C? Jean's golden eyes?

You knew you wanted a family with Jean, but you thought it would be when you were older and when the world was right, and safe.

***

Jean was slumped over the table in their dormitory, he couldn't stop thinking about you and if you were alright. Suddenly, he felt something light his forehead. He looked down to the table and saw a piece of bread. Looking up, he saw Sasha and Connie giggling. "What?" He spat.

"Nothing, you're just so...easy." Sasha giggled and Jean rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she'll be fine." Armin smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was just the flu." Connie stated nonchalantly. Jean knew he was overreacting, but seeing you pale and hurling every morning made him feel helpless in protecting you.

He couldn't help but think it was something worse than the flu and there was something wrong with your health. His father passed from a sickness that doctors couldn't explain, and he was nervous about that happening to you.

Suddenly, Erwin and Levi walk in and the Scouts all scramble to stand to salute. "Kirschtein, outside." Was all Erwin said before leaving with Levi and Jean's heart dropped. The last time he was called by Erwin was when his cousin passed. He looked around at the others and they were all looking at each other, concerned.

Armin gave him a reassuring smile, but Jean could tell he was nervous as well. When Jean left the room, the rest of the cadets began to worry as well.

"I-Is Y/N alright...I was just playing...I thought.." Sasha began to tremble as Connie stared at the floor. "If she's not okay—"

"She's fine." Armin spoke up, trying to sound confident but failing.

As Jean met with Erwin and Levi outside, he was thinking of all the possible things that could have happened to you. Did she have a heart attack? Some kind of disease? He wanted to know...so he could protect you.

"S-sir." Jean mumbled as he joined Erwin and Levi.

"Kirschtein, we have to talk." Levi began. Jean gulped, he felt like his heart was about to fall out of his chest. He looked at Erwin who had a solemn expression, he knew it was about Y/N. "Is it Y/N?"

Levi and Erwin looked at each other and nodded. "I-is she okay? What happened? Where is she? Is she..." all the questions that was swarming in Jean's head suddenly came out of his mouth.

"Is she dead?" Jean finally asked and he felt tears form in the side of his face. Suddenly, Erwin's solemn expression turned to a confused on and Levi was looking at Jean like he was crazy.

"W-what?" Levi asked with an annoyed look on his face. "She's not dead." Erwin stated and began to chuckle at Jean's question.

Jean let out a sigh of relief. The whole day he was imagining the worst things that could have happened to Y/N, knowing she was alive, he thought his ordeal was over. "Thank god." Jean breathed out while his two superiors were still gawking at him over his reaction.

"She's not dead but..." Levi began and looked at Erwin for a signal to continue.

"B-but what..."

"Jean..." Erwin began and Jean held his breath in anticipation. "Y/N is pregnant." Jean thought he misheard Erwin. "What?" he laughed but Levi and Erwin's faces remained the same. "No, that's not—"

"Are you sure?"

"She's been sick am I right? Vomiting every morning?" Erwin began and Jean nodded slowly. "It could be the flu.." Jean began and Levi shook his head.

"The nurse did tests, Jean...she's pregnant." Erwin finished and Jean stumbled back.

"Both of you are still in the Scouts—but she will be left behind on missions." Levi stated but Jean was still processing the information.

From inside, the rest of the Scouts were watching from the window. "I don't get it, he seemed find a few seconds ago...now he seems sad again." Sasha whispered as she chewed on a loaf of bread.

"I'm sure it's nothing, he would have been bawling if something bad happened to Y/N." Armin stated.

"But why does he look like he just saw a ghost?" Connie questioned. "Why don't we just ask him?" Eren said through gritted teeth.

"Not yet, he's still talking to Captain Levi and Commander Erwin." Mikasa answered.

"We'll try to prepare a room for her...and the baby." Levi finished, he seemed uncomfortable with the idea of a baby being in the Scouts HQ. "But, this is just to show you...be careful. What you do can affect people other than yourself, and it just happens to be your child." Levi's final remark caused Jean to break out of his trance, as he watched his superiors leave.

He felt frozen. Like his body wasn't responding to him. He felt like the world just shifted under his feet without realizing it.

He heard footsteps behind him, as he turned, he saw the rest of the Scouts were outside, looking at him cautiously.

"Jean...is Y/N alright?" Armin asked first. Jean remained silent as his friends looked at him with worry, waiting for an answer.

"She's okay, right?" Sasha whispered. Jean looked down, it was no use hiding it, how could you hide something like this.

"Y/N's pregnant."

Sasha dropped her bread, Connie spat out the water he was drinking, Mikasa's eyes grew wide. Armin and Eren just stared at Jean in disbelief.

"WHAT!" Connie shouted after a while, Jean just stared at him and shrugged. He turned away from them and began to walk away, leaving the rest of them dumbfounded.

He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to think. He thought of bringing up a child in this world, where life was uncertain, how was he going to lead his teammates when he would desperately want to survive for his child. Would he return to his selfish self? Would he focus on surviving rather than fighting for humanity to see his child grow up?

He was going to be a father. He was going to have a child. He always wanted this, a quiet, comfortable life in the interiors. But that all changed when he joined the Scouts. He thought he had to let that dream die, but at least he had you.

Y/N. he couldn't imagine what she was feeling. He stopped and closed his eyes. He's been so concerned about himself, when it was you that's experiencing this first-hand.

Jean went to the infirmary, but you were gone, he saw Hange talking to the nurse and he walked up to her.

"Jean..." she began as she saw him. "Where's Y/N?"

"She ran when she found out." She was looking at him with a sad expression, knowing the ordeal he was going through.

Jean began to think, the only place she would go, could go to be alone was the back house, smiling to himself, he left the infirmary and made his way to you.

***

You haven't left your spot by the lake. For the first time in your life, you felt like you had zero control. Even with how the world is, you felt like you knew what you wanted to do. Fight for humanity, make it better for your family, for you, for Jean...now you felt like everything you've ever known about the world has changed. Why did this happen? What were you supposed to do? There was no stopping it, you had to face yourself and the situation.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you, you knew it was Jean. You felt him sit behind you, then strong arms suddenly slide across your waist and pull you closer to his chest.

You couldn't hold it in. You burst out sobbing uncontrollably, your vision began to blur as the tears poured down your face.

Jean releases you for a moment, flips you over so your head rests on his chest. He doesn't say anything, but your somewhat comforted with the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes you in.

"J-jean..." you suddenly speak, face still buried in his chest. "I'm sorry—"

"Shhh." He cuts you off by pulling you closer, which makes you cry even harder. "I'm sorry—"

"Whoa whoa whoa, why are you sorry? This is on both of us." Jean pulls away to look at you. His face saddens at the sight of you, eyes puffy and face flushed from crying.

"W-what am I gonna do..." you begin, not looking at him, but more of asking yourself.

"Wait..what do you mena what are you gonna do?" you look at him confused. "I'm part of this as much as you are." Jean grabs your face and looks at you intently. "You have so much on your plate...you're training to lead a squad you're—"

"So?"

"Jean..." you begin but his face hasn't changed. "it doesn't matter, we're in this together." You've never seen Jean this sure about anything before. Even with leading the Scouts, you could tell he would question himself. Now, he's looking at you with so much assurance that you felt a sense of stability about the situation.

"How could we have done this? Bring a child, into this world...where there's death everywhere...we're trapped here—"

"I don't know." He stated, still looking at you. "I don't know...what we're going to do." He finished. "Jean, I feel like...I let the Scouts down...I feel—"

"Can you stop it?"

"What?" You were confused, you didn't understand how Jean seemed so in control over the situation when you were a complete mess. "Stop saying that it's just you...I'm part of this as much as you are. Stop taking all the guilt, put some on me..." you began to cry again, and Jean shushed you once more. "I know this isn't ideal. We're in this fucked up place, with titans, we're stuck inside this fucking cage, and we...we brought a child into this...we...weren't thinking...we both let the scouts down..." he looked away from you for a moment and you could tell he was beating himself up as well.

"But...it's not just you...it's me too. I feel everything you're feeling..not physically but...you don't have to go through this alone...I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm going to be a good father. You're going to be an amazing mother, I always knew that, and that's all that matters." Jean looked at you and you looked right back at him, at that moment, you felt there was nothing wrong in the world, no titans, no hiding within the walls, just you and Jean. At that moment, despite everything, you felt hopeful for the future, your future with Jean.

[fanficflaneuse]

Let Me See It

A/N: So this is my very first Harry Potter imagine ever (it is, in fact, my very first fanfic ever). I’ve got a few things to say before we start. First, if anyone read the very long rant I wrote the other day (my first Tumblr post ever lol), I haven’t read all the books yet and I haven’t watched all the movies either. I’m currently on the third book. Why would I write a sixth year Draco imagine when I have virtually no canon idea about it? Well, my friends, I’ve read a lot of fanfiction and imagines about it so I kind of have all the main plot points and I wanted to give it a go. It’s absolutely self indulgent. Hopefully once I’ve finished all of the books my writing gets better. Also, English is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes, please tell me and I’ll correct it :) I hope it’s not too bad and I really hope you like it. 

Details: 

Draco Malfoy x Reader (She/her pronouns...If this goes right I’ll try my best to write gender neutral as well). 

Word count: 1529 

Summary: The reader is Harry’s friend and in a secret sort of relationship with Draco. She is the one who’s hit by the sectumsempra spell and wakes up in the hospital wing to an angsty/fluffy situation. 

Warnings: my terrible writing, some angst, some fluff, perhaps a lot of wordiness, sectumsempra, soft Draco. 

When (Y/N) woke up, she felt as though she had been drowning and could finally take a breath. Her whole body ached and her chest felt tender in the worst of ways, open even. Engrossed in the sensations, she didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings at first. Then she felt the raspy fabric of the infirmary’s bed and it all came back to her. The commotion in the bathroom, spells casted and dodged, the water gushing from the broken sinks, Moaning Myrtle’s shrieks…even remembering it gave her a headache. 

When Harry had rushed to the girl’s bathroom, (Y/N) had been quick to follow him. When she got there, her best friend was already casting spells towards the boy she fancied. Draco seemed distraught. He was dishevelled and unkempt. He had grown thin and he was so pale that the bags under his eyes stood out. Shaking as he held his wand, he looked as though he was in the midst of a panic attack.

(Y/N) had noticed all of this, of course. Whenever they met he’d brush it off by telling her he was going through something rough. She had an idea of what it might have been, she had discussed it countless times with Harry (Ron and Hermione would usually dismiss them when they brought the topic up). So, when they had their secret rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower, she’d hold him as he cried. They’d talk about dreams and interests. They’d imagine different futures together. Sometimes they’d snog. Shyly or passionately, it’d feel wonderful until he’d tell her how it was dangerous for her, how he carried baggage she didn’t deserve. They weren’t a couple, but they certainly were past the “friends” category.

Seeing him standing there, standing helplessly against a sink, (Y/N) felt her heart shatter. She had to do something. Fast.

Draco wasn’t even thinking at the moment, casting spells left and right and making sure none of Potter’s hit him. Conjuring the first thing that came to mind, he was about to cast an unforgivable when he saw her, his beautiful (Y/N), standing wide eyed just a few steps away from Potter. He was about to tell her to leave when the scene unfolded in front of his eyes as if in slow motion. He saw (Y/N) running towards him, pushing him out of the way as Potter casted a spell he had never heard of. He heard her name leave Potter’s lips in a sob when she was hit. He saw her fall, lifeless, as her blood poured from her chest. He saw him running towards her, taking her in his arms. It all seemed unreal.

Then he heard Potter sobbing, babbling, begging her to wake up: “(Y/N/N), (Y/N/N) please, open your eyes. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”.

He held her to his chest. And Draco, enraged and panicked, ran towards both of them.

“What did you do, Potter? Fix it, fix it I am begging you,” he pleaded as he tried to take (Y/N) from his arms.  She was growing paler by the minute, her uniform soaked in so much blood it made Draco sick.

“Don’t touch her, death eater,” he spat as he rocked her back and forth in his chest and sobbed.

“Fix it!” he barked.

“I…I don’t know how,” babbled Harry, holding even tighter to his best friend.

They both looked at her helplessly, hoping for a miracle. Guilt-ridden, Draco started sobbing as well. He fancied her. Merlin, he could even swear he loved her. She saw the good in him when nobody else had bothered to even try. She overlooked how nasty he had been to her friends and even to her in the past. She showed him the meaning of true friendship, opened her heart to him to give him nothing but love and care. By her side, he started considering different ways of conceiving the world. She believed in him as he evolved into a person who hated everything the mark under on his left forearm meant. In the last year and a half, (Y/N) had become the person he probably cared for the most (apart from his parents, if the Dark Mark was a testament to something). Now she was there, bleeding on the cold, wet floor of Myrtle’s bathroom as the two boys and the ghostly girl sobbed for her.

After what seemed like hours, the miracle did come…in the form of Professor Snape. He quickly chanted a counter spell he had never heard of either. Draco concluded his aunt Bellatrix wasn’t a very good teacher as she was the one who taught him every Dark spell he knew. With one icy glare, Snape got Harry to let go of (Y/N) and took her to the hospital wing. Both boys followed behind him, their bloodied clothes alarming the whole school.

Three days later, both of them were still there, glaring at each other, waiting for (Y/N) to wake up. There were times when Draco thought she’d stay in her stupor forever. He buried his face in his hands, feeling empty and guilty, until he heard a gasp. She had woken up.

Draco rushed from his seat and took her hand. Harry had done just the same. As she squeezed both their hands, Draco and Harry shared a sigh.

“I am so sorry, (Y/N/N). I didn’t – “

“Don’t even start, Harry. I’ll scold you later,” (Y/N) interrupted. Even though she felt tired, (Y/N)’s voice had a bit of playfulness in it, which humoured Harry and brought warmth into Draco’s heart. (Y/N) gave Harry a meaningful look; her way of telling him she needed to talk to the Slytherin in private. He gave her a curt nod, not very convinced, but still let go of her hand.

“I’ll come later with Ron and ‘Mione,” he said.

Draco gave him a thankful nod as Harry closed the curtain around them. His heart was pounding hard as silence engulfed them again. Their eyes met. He felt relieved that she was with him, but also uneasy and guilty. (Y/N)’s eyes travelled to his left arm. She swallowed hard.

“Let me see it,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Draco held his breath. His eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. He didn’t put up a fight when (Y/N) took his arm and gently pushed his sleeve up. (Y/N) knew what she would probably find under the sleeve. She thought she was prepared. And, of course, she wasn’t. She gasped loudly as she saw the black snake protruding from a skull’s mouth. She looked at the blond Slytherin, feeling the pain and disappointment seeping from her gaze, as well as a couple of tears. He didn’t meet her eyes. He was ashamed. The guilt, the pain, and the self-hatred were eating him up.

(Y/N) saw a few tears silently slipping from his eyes and her heart broke again. Draco sobbed. He was certain he had lost her now.

“I am so sorry, (Y/N/N). They made me do it. I had no choice…He’s going to kill my parents and I can’t –,” his pathetic little apology was cut short by his sobs. He was certain he was a bad person, but having to hold himself accountable in front of the one person that truly saw him for who he was felt unbearable.

He felt (Y/N)’s fingers gently caressing the dreadful mark. He mustered all of his courage to look at her and found a sympathetic expression that made him feel better. She pulled him to her and he gave her a hug. Draco started crying again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” he cried, bringing her closer to his chest as though she could disappear any minute.

She pushed him just a little, enough to allow her hands to travel to his face and clean his tears with her thumbs.

“Shh, Dray. Don’t cry. I know that mark isn’t you. I trust it isn’t you. I know you wouldn’t join them on your own volition,” she soothed.

(Y/N) made room for him on her bed and he slither in, careful not to hurt her in any way. He buried his face on (Y/N)’s neck as she whispered sweet nothings in his ear. She caressed his hair gently as Draco sniffled. He was still heavyhearted, but she felt like home and it made his heart swell.

“Dray”

“Yes?”

She thought about making him promise to make it right, to fight by her side. But she felt tired. Her body still ached. And, regardless of the circumstances, snuggling up to him felt wonderful. So, she closed her eyes and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

“I love you,” she said almost inaudibly. Draco was so close he heard alright. He couldn’t believe she had actually said those three words for the first time under the circumstances. He didn’t hesitate to answer back.

“I love you too, (Y/N/N)”.

When Madam Pomfrey came around and opened the curtain, she found both (Y/N) and Draco fast asleep. Draco’s face was very close to (Y/N)’s neck. One of her hands was still buried in his platinum hair. And they looked so peaceful, the healer could only close the curtain and let them rest.

[witcherslittledove]

Home is Where the Heart Is

A Joey/Henry lockdown fic - AO3

Rated: T

Words: 7k ish

CW: RPF, covid, far too much pining?

_______

“I’m sorry, Joey,” Madeleine sighed again, pressing her head into the crook of Joey’s neck, her hair tickling his cheek.

It was pulled back into a messy bun, flyaway strands surrounding her face in a halo, and as the sun shone from behind her, she looked like some kind of angel. Joey wondered, not for the first time, how he’d even been so lucky to have Madeleine as a friend. She truly was a wonder, his favourite person and light of his life. Everyone should have a friend like Madeleine Hyland.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple as he pulled back from her embrace. “Nah, it’s alright, Madeleine. Your parents need you, much more important than little old me.”

“Oh fuck that, you bastard, stop fishing for compliments,” she laughed, swatting him on the arm.

“Aww,” he pouted, “Oi!”

She’d hit his arm again, barely a tap but he pretended it hurt, rubbing his arm and pouting even harder at his friend.

“Come off it, Joey. You’re staying with Henry for the rest of lockdown, that’s hardly a trial,” she teased, poking him in the chest.

Ah yes.

Henry.

The bane of Joey’s existence, mostly because of the fucking ginormous crush he had on his co-star. He hadn’t known Henry had been signed on for Geralt until his audition, really he hadn’t known much at all, just that he’d be auditioning for a bard and that he should probably take his lute to the audition. A spur of the moment decision that had turned his life upside down. He’d gone from a nobody to... well, not exactly famous but people had started to recognise him, much to his despair.

And then there was Henry.

He’d been admiring Henry from a distance for a few years now, watching him in the Tudors had sort of been Joey’s bisexual awakening, and then he’d suddenly been thrust into the most bizarre experience of having to work fairly closely with the man.

Joey would never forget the feeling of Henry throwing him over his shoulder as if he wasn’t almost the same size as Henry.

Fuck, that had been hot.

And now, Joey had to cohabit with said crush for an indeterminate amount of time, preferably without making a fool of himself.

He was doomed.

Of course, he could have said no when Henry had offered his place when Joey was grumbling about being alone during lockdown after Madeleine's parents got sick, but no… Henry had stared at him with such shining hope in his eyes that Joey never stood a chance.

Joey just needed to keep reminding himself that Henry was straight. He was practically the poster boy for heteronormative; classically gorgeous, action star, gymrat, lover of sports and building fucking computers.

Okay, maybe Joey was generalising a tad, but it was a form of self-defence.

Christ, the mere thought that Henry could be interested in men… interested in him.

It was too much.

So here he was, saying goodbye to his best friend whilst waiting for his biggest crush to pick him up. Madeleine bundled into her car with the last of her bags, and Joey was left waiting on the pavement. In all honesty, he would have preferred to drive to Henry’s place himself or at least get the tube, something where he felt like he was actively doing something. The waiting was killing him, making his thoughts run out of control. Maybe he shouldn’t have packed his guitar. He could have at least been tuning it, or plucking out some meaningless melody, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind distracted.

When the black car pulled up, Joey let out a sigh of relief before realising that it was very much frying pan, fire. Luckily, before he could really start to panic, the back door opened and Joey was almost bowled off his feet by a large bundle of fur that Henry claimed was a dog and not, in fact, a bear.

“Kal!” Joey greeted warmly, burying his fingers into Kal’s neverending fur, and letting the dog lick all over his face.

“He’s missed you,” Henry called in lieu of a greeting.

He was wearing a grey henley that looked like it was two sizes too small and his dark blue jeans seemed to strain against his quads. Henry’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and he looked down at Joey with a blinding Hollywood smile that made Joey’s heart flutter. Dark curls seemed to have finally recovered from the weeks stuck under Geralt’s wig and they fell in front of his so very blue eyes.

He was bloody gorgeous, and it wasn’t fucking fair.

So Joey did the only logical thing, and started to coo at Kal instead. “I’ve missed him too,” he trilled happily into the dog’s fur, scratching Kal behind his ears. “Such a good boy! The bestest, cutest doggo.”

“He’s not the only one who’s missed you, you know,” Henry groused, although when Joey looked up, he was still smiling so Joey didn’t feel too bad for paying far more attention to Kal than the gorgeous specimen of a man that is Henry Cavill.

“Aww, you sap,” he chuckled. “Well, I still haven’t forgiven you for those cruel and terrible words you cursed me with the last time we met.”

It wasn’t the last time they’d met. They’d had a few scenes after the argument in episode six. Scheduling had meant that it wasn’t filmed entirely in order, and then there had been reshoots and post-production parties, premieres and the table reads for season two, but it was a sort of in-joke. Joey liked to tease Henry about the argument, they’d both lurked enough online to know that ‘the mountain’ was a big fucking deal to the fans of their characters.

Henry rolled his eyes and opened his arms out for a hug which Joey eagerly returned, inhaling the soft musky cologne that Henry wore and enjoying the strongs arms that wrapped around him. He loved hugs, but most of Joey’s male friends would do that god awful hug and pat thing, then pull away too soon. Henry had never been like that and it was delightful, even if it really didn’t help the not so little crush that Joey had on the man.

It was cliche but it really did feel like coming home.

Fuck.

He was utterly screwed… and not even in the fun way.

The drive to Henry’s place was quiet, Joey spent most of the time watching the streets of London roll past as they weaved through bendy roads that webbed across the city. The traffic was weirdly non-existent, a side effect of a global pandemic, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the ghost towns from films and books.

It was truly haunting, spooky in just the right way. Horror and the Wild had very much had woodland magic vibes, but driving through the dead streets of London, Joey wondered what happened to the fae when a city sprung up near their home. Did they adapt like the wildlife did? Urban spirits that lurked in the shadows, in the alleys, behind the bins and cobbled streets at the back of theatres.

Most theatres were supposed to be haunted, Joey had always wondered just who the spirits were that glided through the aisles when the shows went dark.

Henry didn’t feel the need to fill the silence which Joey was grateful for. On set, with Jaskier on his fingertips, Joey was happy to joke about and laugh and banter, but he was nervous about the move to Henry’s and the silence gave him time to get lost in his own imagination, a reality that wasn’t quite the one they knew.

He was almost disappointed when the car pulled to a stop in front of a rather grand house. It was part of a terrace but that was unsurprising, most places in London were, but it was much nicer than the shitty little flat that Joey shared with Madeleine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

They were poles apart. Even being friends was unrealistic. How the hell was Joey supposed to even pretend they were in the same league? It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Joey just had to be a perfect house guest, no clumsy mistakes, no setting fire to any ovens, and no slipping in the shower and messing up his ankle.

He’d just have to spend all his time with Kal lest Henry find out just how much of a walking disaster he could be.

Henry had only offered because he was a caregiver, selfless and kind in everything he did. He would have done the same to anyone else if they’d mentioned spending lockdown alone. Joey was just the lucky one.

Or unlucky.

He hadn’t quite decided yet.

Yes, he would just have to spend his days with Kal and his guitar, stay out of Henry’s way and then everything would be fine.

Right?

___

Joey’s plan went according to plan for almost an entire week. He mostly kept to his room and occasionally the living room. Henry wanted to show Joey some films he liked and it would have been rude to say no, so Joey curled up with Kal on the floor to keep some space between them. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to snuggle up against Henry’s chest the same way he did with Madeleine, only it wouldn’t be the same because Madeleine was his best friend and Henry was… well… Henry.

It was such a mess.

And he was probably being an arse.

They’d gotten along so well on set in between takes, but now, without Jaskier there as a crutch, Joey’s anxiety was getting the better of him, and all because of a stupid crush. This would all be a lot easier if Joey were straight; no awkward crushes, no pining for a man he couldn’t have, no… whatever this was?

He could flirt and tease and banter just like he would with any of his friends because it was harmless.

If only.

No.

He had to do better. The reason Henry had invited him to stay was so neither of them would be alone, and despite all his cuddles with Kal, Joey was really starting to feel touch starved. He’d never gone so long without human touch.

The problem was that Henry was just so fucking sweet. He was so bloody understanding that it made Joey just yearn even harder. There was never any pressure to hang out, just gentle suggestions, and the most amazing home-cooked meals that Henry said could be heated up another time if Joey wasn’t hungry. The wine Henry picked out to go with the meal was heavenly, and fuck, the man could cook.

He felt like he was being seduced; wooed with the most gorgeous culinary delights that were truly to die for.

What was a poor bisexual to do?

So every evening Joey would sit across from Henry at the table, trying to joke and laugh just as they had before, but even to his own ears it felt flat. Madeleine’s voice in his head reminded him that that was probably his anxiety speaking but, of course, he ignored it. They ate their food and then Joey would either retreat to his room with his beloved guitar or Henry would suggest a film.

Until Henry decided enough was enough.

Joey was lured from his room with the sweet delicious smell of pizza, and when he came down the stairs he found Henry already on the couch, two boxes of pizza and a couple of beers already opened and ready to go.

There was no sitting on the floor, not with pizza and a Kal. Joey wouldn’t get to taste the greasy wonders of his takeaway if he sat on the floor, and the pizza box was already being guarded by Henry on the couch.

He had to break his rule.

Fuck.

“Kitchen table not good enough?” he teased with a quirk of his lips.

Henry scoffed. “Who eats pizza at the table?”

It was a fair point and sighed, resigning himself to an evening pressed up against his friend when his cuddle instincts got too much. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing, maybe it would help get him out of his head and into the moment… maybe he should just let Jaskier out of the box and pretend that all was fine?

No.

He could do this. Just… be himself?

“Before I open this box, there is one very important question I have to ask,” he said far too seriously, barely able to hide a smile as he scooped the pizza box into his lap and sat down next to Henry, keeping a safe distance between them.

“There’s no pineapple.”

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Joey laughed and opened the box. It was a standard pepperoni pizza, not his go to, but it was a safe option and one that was always yummy regardless of the restaurant. “Garlic dip?” he asked with a cock of his head.

“Damn, I hoped you wouldn’t like it,” Henry grumbled and pulled a small green topped tub from inside his own box.

“You!” Joey said in mock outrage, “keeping the beloved dip from me. It’s like the mountain all over again.”

“It’s not like the mountain,” Henry grumbled. “I didn’t make the script, you can’t keep blaming me for that.”

Joey’s heart sank as he wondered if he’d taken the joke too far, but when he met Henry’s gaze he saw the man was smiling despite his grousing. “I can,” he insisted.

“Hmm,” Henry replied in his most Geralt-y voice.

And with an internal sigh of relief, everything seemed to be okay. Yes, Joey was pulling some of his energy from his beloved character, but so was Henry, and it seemed to smooth out the edges of his anxiety. The beer helped and everything seemed a lot more relaxed with the takeaway pizza and the film already starting to play on the TV.

“I’m sorry,” Henry whispered after the pizza was finished and the credits had started to roll.

Joey’s head was resting on his friend’s shoulder but he’d managed to keep himself from koala hugging… so far. The vulnerability caught his attention though, and he sat up wearily to peer at Henry.

“For what?”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by inviting you here.”

Joey wanted to swear, to stomp around the room and tear the place upside down. He’d fucked up. He knew he’d fucked up, his damn anxiety keeping him from being the person he wanted to be, the person he knew he could be if his head just shut up! He didn’t do any of that though. Instead, he slumped back down to lean against Henry and took a deep breath.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. I’m just- it’s hard for me, being somewhere new,” not a lie, not entirely the truth, “and I didn’t want to encroach on your space. This is your home, and I- umm- I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Henry laughed, running a hand through his hair, pushing the curls back off his face, and Joey was entranced for a moment, wanting to reach out and feel the soft hair between his fingers for himself. It was a miracle that he managed to keep his hands in his own lap.

“Joey, this is our home, for now at least,” Henry said with such conviction and warmth that Joey made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Our home?”

“We have no idea how long this nightmare is going to last. It could be months, Joey. I want you to feel like you can relax here,” Henry insisted, wrapping his arm around Joey’s shoulder and pulling him into a sideways hug.

“Right- yeah, no, I know,” Joey mumbled, trying and failing not to blush.

Now that Henry wasn’t really having to watch what he ate and stay dehydrated for dear old Geralt, he was big.

And Joey was weak.

It was like all his wet dreams were becoming a reality, one by one.

He was just monkey-braining over the fact that Henry was one big, large, strong man that wanted to take care of him. It was pathetic. Joey wasn’t exactly small himself, and he could, should the role require it, hold up pretty well in a sword fight with Henry and not look entirely ridiculous.

“And I know Kal is very cute,” Henry teased, nodding to the dog who was sprawled on the carpet in front of them, “but if you ever need a hug, he’s not your only option.”

Joey definitely didn’t squeak this time. Instead, he finally let himself snuggle up to Henry the way he’d been wanting to all evening, every evening since he’d arrived. “Like this?” he teased.

Henry chuckled, and just squeezed his arms tighter around Joey, “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey mumbled. “I was being an arse.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

Joey scoffed.

“I should have been clearer on day one,” Henry sighed, “although seeing as you live here now, maybe you should cook?”

Joey laughed nervously, burying his face into Henry’s jumper. “Neither of us want that,” he muttered. “Trust me.”

“I’ll help?” Henry suggested, which of course brought forth a dozen images of cooking together, dancing in the kitchen to whatever songs fell past Joey’s lips, lazy early morning kisses as they waited for the coffee.

He swallowed, blinking away the fantasies. “How about you cook, and I’ll help?”

“Lazy,” Henry said with a chuckle but just pulled Joey closer.

“Only trying to keep you safe, darling.”

Darling.

Fuck.

“I mean, Henry, sorry, slip of the tongue. I mean- fuck. I call Madeleine darling all the time?”

“Joey, it's okay,” Henry reassured him.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

With a sigh, Joey untangled himself from Henry’s arms and gathered up the pizza boxes and empty beer cans. Booping Kal on the nose as he went past, he busied himself with clearing up. It wasn’t much and didn’t take long, so sooner than he would have liked he poked his head back around the door.

Henry was sitting on the floor, rough-housing Kal, chuckling as the dog kept licking at his face. The sight made Joey smile softly, and he almost didn’t want to leave, but he was getting tired and he really didn’t want to slip up again. He couldn’t blame every mistake on Madeleine. It wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his hair. “See you tomorrow, Henry.”

_______

After that, things started to get easier. Joey would flop down onto the sofa next to Henry in the evenings regardless of what they were doing. Sometimes he’d lie with his head in Henry’s lap whilst they both read a book, other times he’d pluck at his guitar and laugh over stupid limericks that he could make up about his co-star. True to his word, Henry made Joey start helping with mealtimes, although he soon regretted that decision but refused to back down. The food still tasted good but the presentation was lacking. They spent an afternoon trying to bake bread together… Joey’s did not turn out so well and Henry’s attempt was thankfully less than perfect but still edible. The little flaws made Joey feel a little less inferior, and made Henry seem all the more human.

Kal still got a lot of Joey’s attention. How could he not? He was just so fluffy and adorable, plus Joey loved the little pout that Henry did whenever Kal got more hugs than he did. Joey could pretend that his friend was jealous, and that just helped him sleep a little easier at night.

Cuddling on the couch had become their usual routine, and it settled something deep inside of Joey that had been becoming restless. Mornings were spent watching Henry workout. Joey joined in occasionally but usually he would just cheer Henry on from the sidelines sipping his cup of tea. It was a sight to behold, and Joey thanked the lord that the gyms were currently closed otherwise he would never have been allowed to enjoy the view.

Henry’s arse was truly spectacular.

Despite his morning workouts, Henry had definitely gained a rather lovely layer of fat over his previously tightly toned muscles. He looked stronger. He looked cuddlier. Joey’s crush was only getting worse by the day, wanting to run his hands over the broad muscles of Henry’s back, thighs, arms… wherever he was allowed, but he just settled for the cuddling each day.

Joey tried not to think about the fat building over his own stomach and filling out his cheeks, barely noticeable unless you’d had a lifetime of his mother breathing down his neck about his weight. He was cuddlier too, that’s what he told himself whenever the familiar buzz of anxiety started to build up.

And anyway, Henry didn’t seem to mind.

Kal certainly didn’t. The beast of a dog had started to share the sofa with them in the evenings, squishing between them for maximum cuddle potential until eventually he got bored and retreated back to the floor.

It was really starting to feel like home. There were signs of Joey around the house, sheet music left on the TV cabinet, a set of spare lute strings in the kitchen, the bastard instrument tucked away in the corner of the living room until Joey could bring himself to pick it up. Two sets of keys now hung up by the front door so they could both take turns walking Kal without having to worry about getting locked out if the other was busy. A fluffy worn blanket was now strewn over the big armchair where Joey liked to sit during the day. Even the fridge now stocked Joey’s favourite rosé wine.

All in all, Joey wasn’t hating lockdown. It was frustrating but he enjoyed being inside anyway, and well, the company was pretty great.

The two of them were curled up on the sofa watching the Great British Bake Off on netflix, gin and tonics flowing a little too freely, and Joey felt like he was on top of the world. He had the best cuddler in all of England, nay, the world, a big fluffy puppy to boot and some bloody brilliant booze in hand.

The best thing was that Henry’s hoody had shifted up at some point during the evening, and Joey couldn’t take his eyes off the soft but defined muscles that were often hidden under Henry’s clothes. The dark hair that dipped beneath the exposed band of Henry’s boxers was tantalizing, and Joey longed to reach out and touch…

Only he was drunk enough that his inside thoughts had his hand moving before he could realise, landing on Henry’s stomach.

He froze and stared up at his friend with wide eyes.

“Oops,” he slurred.

“That’s my stomach,” Henry pointed out.

And still Joey didn’t remove his hand, relishing the bare skin beneath his fingertips, but he knew he needed an excuse, so he did the only logical thing and launched his attack. Henry was stronger than him, but Joey had the element of surprise as he tickled his friend, fingers dancing across the exposed skin as Henry desperately tried to shove Joey away. They were both laughing, too busy pushing and pulling at each other, that neither of them quite registered that at some point in the tussle, Joey had straddled Henry’s waist in an attempt to keep him pinned down.

Until suddenly their lips were barely a breath apart.

Oh.

“Hi,” Joey mumbled, smiling coyly down at Henry, the longer strands of his fringe falling into his eyes.

“Hi.”

It wouldn’t take much to lean down and kiss him, maybe Henry would even reach up first. There was no denying the sudden pull between them, and god, Joey wanted it. He’d wanted it for so long now.

So close.

The warmth of Henry’s breath brushing against his lips.

Eyes closed.

Hearts racing.

A soft whisper of a moan.

And then a bark rang out in the room, startling Joey and shattering the moment. He cursed as he fell to the floor, the world spinning from the gin and giddy burst of adrenaline. Kal jumped up into Henry’s lap, barking and whining excitedly at his owner, checking that he was okay following Joey’s tyrannical tickle attack.

Joey felt like an ice bucket had been dumped over his head, feeling far too sober, far too fast.

He’d almost kissed Henry.

He’d almost kissed Henry.

Fuck!

“Right,” he slurred as he pushed his hands back through his hair- too long, needed a haircut. “Bedtime, sleep. Yup.”

“Joey?”

“See you in the morning?” he mumbled, although glancing at the clock, he wondered if that was a little optimistic. “Tomorrow,” he amended.

“Tomorrow,” Henry agreed, looking a little disappointed.

Joey refused to think about it. He wouldn’t start to hope. It would hurt too much if this all went wrong.

______

They didn’t talk about it.

Or rather, Joey, didn’t talk about it.

Henry tried to bring it up the next morning but Joey just laughed it off before his heart could get torn to pieces. He didn’t need confirmation that his crush was a no go. He already knew, but he really didn’t need to hear the words. Not to mention his hangover was an utter bitch and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and feel sorry for himself, which is exactly what he did.

After a few days, or was it weeks, months, years? Time seemed to stop existing, all Joey knew was his clothes seemed to be tighter than before and he was in desperate need of a haircut, but after a lockdown-eque period of time, all was forgotten. They fell back into their usual routine, and Joey’s crush continued to simmer just below the surface, unnoticed by Henry.

He’d started to facetime Madeleine most evenings just before bed now that the novelty of living with a bloody filmstar had worn off. He missed her terribly and she seemed to be going crazy at her parent’s house. There was a twinge of guilt stabbing in his chest when he realised he’d all but forgotten about her the first few weeks of lockdown, but it was nice to catch up with her again.

Henry was brilliant, but he was no Madeleine Hyland. He wasn’t Joey’s best friend.

And sometimes Joey just needed to vent about Henry’s stranger habits. Like seriously, why wass there that weird sponsored water just stationed around the house? And what was with the weirdly staged selfies on instagram. It made Joey feel a whole lot better about his own lack of media presence. He’d rather be a mystery online than this boomer energy than Henry had going on.

Venting to Madeleine helped too, he got less frustrated about the shit hole that was life during a pandemic. A little less angry, a little less depressed, and a little less pathetic with his pining over Henry, although Madeleine would probably disagree.

She was probably right.

The sudden cold turn in the weather hadn’t helped. It wasn’t too bad but Joey had mostly brought summer clothes with him because he honestly hadn’t thought he’d be staying more than a couple of weeks. Thankfully he’d thrown in a couple of onesies for comfort reasons so he spent most his days dressed like a tiger and hoping that Henry would find it endearing. The best part was his onesies were a bit looser and fit him more comfortably than his normal clothes. A lockdown diet was brilliant, but not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d gone shopping all those years ago.

What he hadn’t expected, was for Henry to rock up to dinner wearing the stupid bunny onesie that Joey had left in his room.

“There,” Henry greeted him with a broad smile, “Now we match.”

It wasn’t fair. Joey wanted to kiss him so badly. The white onesie was a little short on Henry, pulling up just above his ankles, and it still managed to stretch at his shoulders, but it was so fucking adorable and Joey could pin point the exact moment his crush tumbled over the edge into love.

It was the crinkles at the corner of Henry’s eyes as he smiled, the slight tilt of his head, the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes.

Except they weren’t just blue. No, there were specks of golden brown in one eye, that were just captivating. Joey felt like he could so easily get lost in Henry. Every time he looked at the man he found something new and exciting.

“Darling, you look adorable!” he cooed, before he could get too distracted by the fluttering of his own heart. “Very cuddly.”

Henry chuckled and opened his arms wide, allowing Joey to barrel into them. “That was the idea.”

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, hoping that Henry would have forgotten that-

“It’s your turn to cook.”

“Bugger,” Joey whined. “Cheesy pasta?”

“You made that last time,” Henry teased.

“I’m very good at carbonara!” Joey countered.

“Melted cheese on pasta isn’t carbonara.”

Joey scoffed. “Eh, close enough.”

“Fine, make your cheesy pasta.”

“Carbonara,” Joey said with a wink. “I’ll add bacon this time.”

The pasta was overcooked and the bacon was a little chewy, but it was dinner, and afterwards Henry made them both extravagant hot chocolates made from actual chocolate rather than powder shit that Joey used. It was covered in whipped cream and marshmallows and had a healthy amount of Baileys to top it off. They curled up on their usual spot on the sofa, buried under blankets and held the warm mugs close to their chests.

If it had been snowing, then Joey would have thought he’d walked into a Christmas film, all it needed was a fireplace and some fairy lights. It was cosy and warm, and a little bit romantic, or it would be if Henry was interested in men and Joey was his type.

No, he couldn’t think like that.

They were friends, good friends, good friends that liked to cuddle and almost kiss if the dog hadn’t interrupted.

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

He took a long gulp of his hot chocolate to stave off his anxiety, not noticing when his nose dived straight into the whipped cream until he looked up to find Henry staring at him with a fond expression. Warmth flooded through Joey’s chest as he returned the smile, feeling high on love and sugar.

“Hi,” he breathed, sounding as love sick as he felt.

Henry’s smile brightened, filling the whole room with light and Joey could have sworn he could hear the swell of violins in the soundtrack of his life.

“Hi,” Henry replied easily as if he hadn’t stolen Joey’s breath, heart and soul. “You- umm, cream, here!”

Henry tapped his own nose.

“Oh cock!” Joey hurried to wipe his nose, almost spilling his hot chocolate in the process, “Fuck! Bugger, shit balls!”

Henry, the bastard, just laughed, his arms reaching out to steady the mug and stop Joey from falling to the ground. “I think you made it worse.”

Joey snorted “I got that, yup, thanks.”

This time he could feel the sticky sweet cream clinging to his cheek, the subtle taste of vanilla on his lips. He pouted up at Henry, gazing through his eyelashes in a way that he hoped could be played off as friendly, but also maybe a little bit seductive. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he barely resisted the urge to wink.

Maybe there had been more Bailey’s in his drink than he realised.

Instead, he just wiped his face and snuggled back up to Henry, pulling the blanket up to his chin. They settled on watching Always Sunny, so Joey didn’t really have to concentrate. He let the tension drain from his body as he listened to the familiar TV show and then closed his eyes. Warm, happy and wrapped up in the arms of the man he loved-

Joey fell asleep.

He didn’t notice the way Henry was staring down at him as if he hung the fucking moon and stars, or the inner turmoil his friend was plague with as Henry resisted leaning down to kiss Joey in his sleep.

No, Joey was blissfully ignorant, sleeping better than he had in weeks.

________

The rest of lockdown went by in a blur. Their routine started to seem normal and any doubts Joey had about spending so much time with Henry faded away. They bantered easily like they had on set, laughing and giggling over whatever stupid thing one of them had said. Henry would spend hours playing his video games whilst Joey zoomed Madeleine to work on their new album together. When the regulations relaxed they started to walk Kal together, enjoying the quiet summer days and fresh air. The cuddling never really stopped, and some mornings Joey would wake up still curled up against Henry’s chest, their limbs tangled from the night before.

Those were Joey’s favourite mornings. He’d be stiff all day from sleeping on the couch but he could pretend, for just a few moments, that things were more than they were.

The pining never went away but it was truly the sweetest torture that he’d ever had to endure. The domestic bliss being barely a step away from everything he craved.

And when the time came for Joey to return to his flat with Madeleine, he felt like shit. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in the strange fantasy world he had with Henry, eating too much food and drinking too much wine, cuddling and watching crappy Netflix shows.

Which was why he was sat, staring at a messy pile of clothes on his bed, clothes he’d not worn in weeks. Over the chair were his onesies and a collection of jumpers and hoodies that he’d stolen from Henry over the last few months and weeks. Kal stared up at him from the floor, tail thumping against the carpet.

Joey sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying desperately to ignore the ache in his chest that was growing more painful with everything second that passed. “I don’t know, Kal. I should be happy about going home.”

Kal didn’t respond, his tail still wagging away just like it always did whenever Joey paid attention to him.

“I miss Madeleine, of course I do, but living with Henry has been great. And you, I love you, big fluffy puppy!” He cooed with a big smile as Kal barked happily and jumped up onto the bed. Joey laughed as he tried to keep his face away from the attack, wrapping his arms around Kal’s neck and pressing his nose into the fur.

“If I tell him how I feel that’s just going to make season two really really awkward, but I just feel like I’m missing a chance, you know?”

If Kal knew, he either didn’t care or just enjoyed watching Joey suffer. There was no reply and Kal just rested his head in Joey’s lap.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, still running his fingers through Kal’s fur. “You’re no use.”

Kal snorted at that and Joey rolled his eyes.

“But I love you anyway, yes I do!”

“Ready to go?” Henry asked from the door.

“Shit!” Joey yelped. “How long have you been standing there?!”

Henry chuckled, striding into the room and perching on the bed opposite Joey. He reached out to scratch Kal on the head with a dazzling smile. Joey felt his cheeks warm up and he buried his face in Kal’s fur to hide the blush. So many months and he still couldn’t stop his heart from racing whenever Henry smiled. He was pathetic.

And he was running out of time.

He knew it was a bad idea, even entertaining the thought of dating a co-star, but he’d regret it if he didn’t give it a shot. I mean he could always blame the mixed signals if it went wrong. They’d nearly kissed twice and Joey didn’t even cuddle Madeleine as much as he’d cuddled Henry. They were probably the only people that were less touch-starved during the lockdown than before.

So Joey was going to tell him.

Just three words.

He could do that.

Fuck!

He couldn’t do that.

“Joey?” Henry said, reaching out to squeeze Joey’s shoulder.

Joey blinked. Had Henry been talking to him? He’d asked a question so that would make sense. God, his anxiety had gone through the roof, it was like that first day all over again.

“Need to pack,” he mumbled, gesturing at his clothes.

Henry let out a long and heavy sigh, sounding just as thrilled about the idea as Joey did. “I suppose you do, yeah. When is Madeleine due over?”

Joey hummed, glancing at his watch. “Ten minutes ago. Lockdown traffic must be a thing of the past.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighed.

Neither of them moved, both staring glumly at Kal who was happily nestled between them. It was strange but Joey had almost begun to think of Kal as his, theirs. Their home, their life, their dog. He would miss Kal very much.

He would miss Henry even more.

“Do you have a start date yet?” Joey asked, the restrictions were lifting and there were talks about getting back to work again, but it was all up in the air.

Henry shook his head. “Should be getting a call from my agent some time this week. I need to make sure my other projects can work around the schedule.”

Joey smirked, “Or my dear witcher will have a new face next time we meet,” he teased.

Henry scoffed. “Not a chance, you’re stuck with me, bard.”

“You still owe me an apology,” Joey shot back, not quite realising how close they’d gotten during their mock argument.

He swallowed and licked his lips, one hand reaching up to scratch the stubble on his cheek. His face was burning right up to the tips of his ears, his heart thumping in his chest. There was a spark of electricity crackling between them, the scent of coffee lingering on Henry’s breath.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Henry promised, voice hoarse and low, making heat spread through Joey’s body and the world around them seemed to disappear.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Henry breathed, the words shaky.

Joey longed to reach out and brush his fingertips along the strong line of Henry’s jaw, to feel the scratch of stubble beneath his skin. He longed to tangle his hands in the dark mess of curls, to see if they were really as soft as they looked. It felt as if there was a magnetic force pulling them closer, a string tying their souls together, binding them as one. Joey couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to, and he was over that. He couldn’t live inside his head any longer, not when there was a chance.

Hope.

Deadly, poisoning his very soul, until he could think of nothing except Henry’s lips on his, hands roaming bodies, pulling at hair, unable to resist the promised pleasures of sin. Tongues tangling. Hearts singing. One breath shared between two. Heat. Lust. Love.

Just Henry.

His love.

Joey closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Henry’s, their lips barely ghosting over each other, you really couldn’t call it a kiss; not yet. One more breath, a millimetre to close the gap.

A horn honked from outside and they pulled apart before they could cross the bridge, past the point of no return.

Joey let out a slightly manic laugh and ran his hands through his hair, whilst Henry went back to stroking Kal as he cleared his throat.

“Bollocks, I still haven’t packed.”

“I’ll invite Madeleine in for some tea,” Henry chuckled, stretching as he stood up.

Kal barked happily and jumped down, wagging his tail as he sniffed at Henry’s socks.

And Joey was left alone once more.

“Fuck!” he groaned, covering his face as he flopped back onto his pillows.

By the time he finished packing, Madeleine and Henry were laughing away in the kitchen like old friends.

Like Joey and Henry had so many times.

He wasn’t special. Henry was just that guy.

Hope.

Dangerous and lethal, stabbing into the heart and tearing the soul apart.

“Ready,” Joey mumbled, holding up his suitcase and guitar. “Might take a couple of trips, I have another bag upstairs and the damn lute.”

“Not sure I ever heard you play the lute?” Henry teased.

“Yeah well,” Joey grumbled and turned away from the kitchen before he could start crying.

He really really didn’t want to cry in front of Henry. What was a little heartbreak between friends? At least he could channel that into Jaskier whenever they finally got back onto set. God, he was a fucking mess.

“I’ll help you,” Henry volunteered because of course he would. He probably just wanted Joey gone sooner.

The poor bloke probably couldn’t wait to have his own space back without Joey’s inedible attempts at cooking, non-stop music and chatter, lazy slobbish evenings in front of the TV.

He wasn’t going to cry.

He wasn’t.

Fuck!

Joey sniffed and stumbled out the door, his hands gripping his suitcase so tight he thought he might break the handle. Back home with Madeleine, to his life, and his bed, and nights spent drinking too much wine and lurking on social media.

He’d just about managed to throw his suitcase into the boot when he heard a loud bark behind him, followed by Henry grunting. Joey was almost knocked off his feet as Kal bundled into him, circling around as he jumped up, winding the lead around Joey’s body and pulling a poor Henry with him.

Not that Joey was particularly complaining about having Henry pressed up against him, but did it have to be when he was crying?

Henry cursed, struggling to keep hold of the lead. Their faces were close and they had to wrap their arms around each other to keep steady. Joey laughed through his tears, reminded of a similar moment from one of his favourite Disney films.

Only Kal was a lot bigger than a Dalmatian.

“I don’t think he wants you to leave?” Henry said, smiling sheepishly.

Joey smiled back despite his broken heart. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I- I don’t want you to leave either,” Henry whispered so quietly that Joey wasn’t sure whether he’d heard it at all. “I- umm, I like having you here… with me.”

“Oh,” Joey replied stupidly.

“Fuck, I- Joey… Can- can I kiss you?”

The world turned upside down. Joey's heart stopped and everything started to spin. He tried to process the words but nothing seemed to make sense. There was no fucking way that Henry had said that, that he wanted to- wanted to…

Fuck!

“Oh,” he repeated, blinking at Henry as he licked his lips. “I mean. Fuck. No, I mean… Christ. Yes. Please. Yes.”

Henry chuckled and cupped his cheek, pressing their lips together in the most tender of kisses, taking Joey’s breath away right there on the pavement. Joey just giggled when they parted and then swooped back in for another kiss, and another-

And he never wanted to stop.

He didn’t need to breathe, he just needed this; Henry’s lips on his.

Henry had other ideas though, pulling away with a blinding smile.

“Stay with me?”

Joey nodded and threw his arms around Henry’s neck. “God, yes.”

And then they kissed some more. They had months of lockdown to catch up on, after all.

[kpop-cakepops]

hellooo i'd like to request a wonwoo fluff where he's just really clingy and pouty because he's drunk or sick pls :) thank u and happy holidays

HI! Here's your special holiday gift! Enjoy!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Frisky Disky// Boyfriend!WonwooXReader

"Let it SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOWWWWWW"

You watched Wonwoo as he merrily danced around the noraebang with a bottle of beer in one hand and the karaoke mic in the other. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find the scene a little cute... but after 2 hours of his members cheering him on and feeding him more beer than he could handle, Wonwoo was just about past pissed drunk and hogging the mic.

"Alright baby, I think that's enough" you said standing up and snatching the mic from him. Soonyoung had been glaring daggers at the back of your boyfriend's head for the past 15 minutes as he'd been waiting for his own turn to sing.

Wonwoo didn't seem to resist as he caught your gaze. His large hands grabbed at each side of your face and squished your cheeks together. A cheesy smile, which wasn't a common sight with your rather serious boyfriend, spread across his face.

"Hi my love"

Your cheeks tinted pink as Mingyu and Vernon, who were also their very own share of drunk, giggled like a pair of school girls watching a teen drama. "Wonwoo, do you want to go home?" You asked hoping he'd say yes now, rather than later. You knew well that if he said no now you'd have to carry him back home later and that was never an easy task.

"Home? You are my home babyyyyy" his long arms snaked under your coat and around your waist pulling you close. "But if you insist on taking me to your cAsa, we can go. I wouldn't mind some frisky disky time" he shakily wiggled his brows at you making you laugh out loud.

"Jeon Wonwoo, you are drunk, you need a bath and some sleep, not frisky disky time"

His bottom lip dropped in a cute pout "no frisky disky time?" He whined burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hands squeezing at your sides unintentionally.

"Come on, let's call it a night already." You veered off the topic not daring to look over at the grown group of eavesdroppers beside you. Some of which weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were listening in. (Yes, Seokmin's drunk ass was blatantly hollering "frisky disky" as he swung his sweater in circles)

The ride home was easier for you than most times. Wonwoo was drunk, but able to walk, however his wandering hands had caused more than 2 misunderstanding as you rode the elevator up to your apartment.

"Come on, Wonwoo, people are going to think wrong" you whispered as he hugged you from behind letting you guide him towards your place. You were so embarrassed your hands shook as you tried to find the key to your front door.

"They're not thinking wrong because they think I love youu" he slurred as you finally tugged him into your place. A sigh of relief left your lips only to be encased by your boyfriend's. "Home sweet home" he sing songed as he pecked tiny kisses all over your face.

"You're being oddly lovey, what am I supposed to do with you tomorrow when you're back to your tsundere self?" You teased.

He didn't seem to hear your question as he answered with one of his own, "Honeyy! Have we opened gifts yet?!"

You laughed and shook your head. "Christmas was this morning, we already opened gifts"

He shook his head and looked at you. "There's one gift you haven't opened yet" he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. "It's in my pants"

Once again your face was flaming with embarrassment. You were almost sure this man had an alter ego he didn't know about. "Jeon Wonwoo-"

Again he walked up to you and hugged you. "No, really. It's in my pants. In my back pocket to be exact."

"Back pocket?" You asked.

He was, once again, distracted. It seemed that drunk Wonwoo loved nothing more than to kiss all over your face and have mid sentence conversations with you. You, a little unwillingly, pulled away from him and grabbed his face.

"Hey. I'm right here, you said my gift is in your back pocket." You told him.

"OH YES!" He excitedly grabbed your hand and pulled you towards your bedroom.

"Wonwoo, I swear to god, if it's a condom-"

"Sit down." He ordered. You did as he said and sat down on the bed watching carefully as he wavered and pulled out an envelope from his back pocket.

"What is that?" You asked.

Almost shyly, he held it out to you. "Here... one more gift"

You took it slowly and opened it. Your eyes widening, "are these flight tickets to Hawaii?" You asked in shock.

Your boyfriend sheepishly looked at the ground. "Y-you always said you wanted to go to Hawaii with me... and I felt guilty because I'm always away on tour, or busy with the group... so I begged the company to give me 2 weeks off in March so we can go to Hawaii like you wanted."

Tears filled your eyes as you watched your drunk boyfriend stagger slightly. "Bubba... you-"

"Are you crying?" He gasped.

You jumped to your feet and hugged him tightly. "I am crying because I love you, Wonwoo."

His arms almost instantly wrapped around your figure causing you both to stumble back onto the bed. "Baby don't cry, it's frisky disky time"

You laughed at his lame rhyme and pressed your lips to his, "don't even try it, you'll fall asleep in the next 5 minutes, I guarantee it."

"Cuddle hours then?" He asked kicking off his shoes and pulling you both further onto the bed.

"Fine, cuddle hours open." You agree.

He happily snuggles into you, his head resting on your chest. "Okay. Goodnight my love."

"Goodnight"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[angst-fairygodmother]

Feelings an’ Shit Ep1: Fall (Misfits; Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’m not going to follow the whole continuity of the show, and most things are going to be in between/canon divergent but there’s a handful of episodes I want to do stuff with, including the first, since it only makes sense. Word Count: 2185 Rating: T - canon-typical violence, canon-typical swearing

You watched as the curly-haired kid bounced around, taunting the other one and couldn’t resist a snort of amusement. He turned back to you, flashing you a dramatic wink and waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, nodding back to Hat Guy who was still foaming at the mouth for a fight. Curly continued to antagonize, playing it up for the attention, and eventually Hat Guy had enough and went after him. After that, things became a bit of a blur of shouts and the probation worker pulling them apart. You made eye-contact briefly with the girl who’d been on her cell phone and you both rolled your eyes, laughing. 

If only you’d known then that this moment was the last normal one you’d have. 

~

“So what about you?” the curly-haired kid, Nate or whatever it was, asked, turning his paintbrush on you. “What’d you do gorgeous?”

You liked the sound of his lilt. But he needed to learn to shut up if you were ever going to get along with him, and you wanted to, if only because you were all stuck here. 

You shrugged. “I think the official labels were disturbing the peace and intimidation. And maybe something about rioting which seems unfair. It was just a little bar brawl, and it definitely wasn’t my fault. Although I did glass that guy. So maybe it was.” 

You tried to keep your voice nonchalant, painting away at the bench across from the quiet one, without looking up to see how the others reacted. If you were being honest, the crime you got stuck with wasn’t even the worst thing you had done, just the one that got attention. But these people, with their minor infractions and their ‘I shouldn’t be here’ attitudes (or maybe it was just the one guy) didn’t need to know that. 

“What about you Weird Kid,” Curly continued, apparently choosing not to comment on your offense as he had the others. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a panty sniffer.”

You grimaced, offering him a sympathetic roll of your eyes. “Ignore him, he’s a moron.” you mouthed across the bench. The boy offered you a faint smile in return. 

Curly continued his antics, trying to provoke your new friend who finally snapped, “I tried to burn someone’s house down.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed, as Curly whined uncomfortably, instantly backing off. You didn’t have time to comment on his own excuse for getting picked up, eating pick-n-mix, before the probation worker came back, annoyed with you all for Hat Guy’s paint spill. 

Then a massive hailstone crashed into a car, and you were too scared to worry about much else. Several more fell as you all stared up at the unnatural stormcloud moving overhead, and you all took off running for the relative shelter of the building, panicked and doing your best to shield your faces and heads from the shrapnel. Some instinct made you lag behind, bringing up the rear to make sure that everyone stayed together, no one got left behind. 

You were just coming up on the rest of the group, the probation worker unhelpfully taking the time to lecture them about their language, when there was a flash of light and you felt yourself get thrown backwards. 

You came back to your senses a moment later, sprawled on the concrete, entire body aching like the worst hangover you’d ever had, times ten. Smaller but still massive hail smashed on the ground around you as you and the others slowly sat up or climbed to your feet. 

The probation worker seemed to be having some sort of fit as you all discussed what had just happened and whether everyone was alright. 

“We just almost got killed by freak lightning and hail. Fuck what anybody says, I’m outta here,” you snapped, dusting yourself off with some attempt at dignity. 

“She’s right,” the probation worker groaned, making you turn to gape at him. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

~

The next day passed in a blur: finding Hat Guy dead, the probation worker going berserk and nearly killing you all, super powers? It was all too much. By the time you were all out digging holes under the overpass, you found the activity strangely calming. 

You tried not to think too hard about that fact, since apparently Kelly could hear you. You debated offering a (metaphorical) hand of friendship to Alisha, maybe suggest some self-defense classes to help counter her fucked up powers, but seeing the way she snapped at Curtis you decided against it, for now. Then you were startled out of your thoughts by Nathan draping an arm around your shoulders. 

“So it looks like just the two of us that haven’t figured out our powers yet,” he observed, leaning on you.

You side-stepped out of his grasp, causing him to stumble, nearly ending up in Tony’s grave with him, and hid your smirk behind your hand.

“What’s your point?” you asked, tired and irritated and not wanting to put up with his shit.

“Maybe we should spend some extra time together, figure it out.” He waggled his eyebrows, a behavior you were starting to notice was a habit of his. 

‘This arrogant sod,’ you thought. ‘He’s really got the nerve to be standing there, not doing any work, hitting on me, while we are burying bodies. Who the hell does he think he is?’ 

You were furious, the more you thought about it. 

Suddenly, a wave roiled up from the river, crashing over Nathan, knocking him to the ground in a sopping puddle.

“What the hell?” Alisha shrieked, jumping back from the splash zone.

“Y/N. I think you did that,” Kelly pointed out.

You stared, wide-eyed. “No way.” 

“Ya were gettin’ pissed at Nathan, I heard it. Then he gets dunked on.”

“No. That’s...that would be...not fair.”

“You think having some sort of water control power isn’t fair?” Alisha looked like she was going to start something and you backed away, trying not to cry or vomit from the fear. “It’s a million times better than my shit power.”

“No. You don’t understand…” you felt like your throat was closing up. “It would be...sick. A sick joke. The universe can’t have that kinda humor.” You looked wildly around at them, five pairs of eyes fixed on you, trying to breathe and not think.

“Let’s just finish burying the bodies,” you said shakily, “forget this ever happened, and get out of here, yeah?”

~

The next morning you dragged yourself up out of bed, forcing yourself to dress in some ratty jeans and a tank top, braiding your hair with trembling fingers as you got ready for day three of community service. Even if there wasn’t going to be a probation worker there, even if you just went and then left, you had to make everything look as normal as possible.

“So, if anyone asks,” you heard Nathan say softly as you, Alisha, and Kelly all passed the guys on their way out of the locker room and your way in to change. “It was just a completely normal day.”

“Actually…” you caught their attention, holding them back a moment. “The new probation worker’s in there right now, digging around the office. They’re going to ask us questions, and we need to have our stories straight.”

“What story?” he protested, a little too loudly, earning a glare from Kelly and Curtis. “We saw nothing, we did nothing.”

“They’re not going to buy it. We were the last people to see either of them, and now they’re missing with no sign of where they went.”

“So what do you suggest, if you’re the mastermind with all the answers?”

You glared at him, then licked your lips nervously. “Look, I’m not going to volunteer it outright, but if we have to, I’ll tell them it was me.”

“Wot?!” Kelly asked, staring at you like you had just sprouted a new head.

“It’ll suck but better one of us goes down than all of us. I’m the one it’s most believable from.”

“No! No way!” You were surprised that Alisha was fighting you on it, expecting her to be the first to throw you under a bus in order to get away from it herself.  “You’ll go to prison!”

“Or we all will. I’m just being practical. If we’re lucky, they think we don’t know shit and we all walk away. But if they start asking questions, real questions,” you set your jaw, steeling yourself for the story you were going to spin. “Tony and I got in a fight over the shit he said while we were takin’ shelter from the storm. I got pissed, and I hit him until he stopped moving. Made you help me move the body. Then Hat Guy, what’s his name, was gonna snitch so I killed him too.”

“I don’t like this,” Curtis cut in. Nathan nodded slowly in agreement, eyebrows furrowed and far more serious than you had seen him so far. 

“What happens to you if we do this?” Alisha asked.

“They slap me in cuffs,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, trying and failing to cut the tension. “Drag me down to the station, ask me a bunch more shit. Then I go away for a long time for murder, or they don’t believe me and I’m back on Monday.”

“Even if they don’t believe her,” Simon offered hesitantly. “They’ll be less likely to look at the rest of us. She has no reason to cover for us. We’re practically strangers.”

“Exactly.” You snapped your fingers, pointing at Simon. “See, he gets it.”

“Why would ya take the fall for us?” Kelly asked. 

You considered her question for a while, not really sure of the answer yourself. Then you sighed and shrugged, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

“I’m real good at screwin’ up, and lucky I’m not already jailed for it. Least now I can use that fact for a good cause.”

~

Nathan watched as the girl walked over to her locker in the back, casual as can be as if she hadn’t just offered to go down for a double murder. He tried not to show on his face how impressed, or turned on, he was. 

He considered staying, trying to catch a glimpse of her and see if her body was as dangerous and sexy as her mind seemed to be. 

“Yer disgusting,” Kelly scoffed, glaring at him until he left behind the other guys.

~

The six of you stood in a line, uncomfortable and awkward as you faced your new probation worker. She introduced herself as Sally, and said she’d been sent to take over your supervision.

“Gary and my colleague, Tony, have both been reported missing,” she continued, staring at each of you in turn, as if a little eye contact could drive her point home. “Their families are really worried about them.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing for a second that either of those two assholes had anyone out there looking for them. You tried, slightly, to hide your boredom. 

“Did any of you see anything unusual? Anything at all?”

Everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably out of the corners of eyes, shifting weight from foot to foot. 

‘They’ve got nothing,’ you found yourself thinking with relief. ‘Everyone keeps their mouth shut and it might actually work.’

Suddenly Nathan raised a finger in the air, looking nervous and uncomfortable, one might even call it scared, and you swore under your breath. Were you really so wrong to trust them, him? Was he about to snitch? Of course an idiot like him couldn’t stick to a cover story. Your mind raced, debating if you should start running and try for a lead on the cops. 

“A few days ago, I go into the toilets, Tony and Gary are in there - they’re butt naked. Tony’s got Gary by his hair - like this. He’s doing him - doggie-style,” you gaped as Nathan carried on. 

“Or...we could go with that,” you muttered watching Nathan’s antics and rubbing your forehead to stave off the growing headache (a headache you suspected was going to be semi-permanent and named Nathan Young). 

“I ask you - in a world of prejudice and intolerance - who are we, who are we to condemn them?”

Sally scoffed, rolling her eyes and storming off to the office. 

“Who wants a smoke?” Kelly asked, nodding her head toward the stairs, and you all followed, headed for the roof. 

~

“What the fuck was that down there?” you shouted at Nathan, gesturing angrily.

“It was me, improvisin, actin. I think I did a pretty good job, don’t ye?” he grinned smugly at you.

“I think you’re an idiot, and almost ruined the whole thing. Now even if I do try to take the fall, at the very least, your goose is cooked too.”

“So don’t try. I think we got away with it.”

“D’you actually believe that?” Curtis asked, staring dumbfounded at Nathan. “Or are you just really dumb?”

[marvelousstevetony]

Can you make this with sick Steve “Can you pronounce anything correctly right now?” “Ndo. *sniff* See???”

Eeep, so sweet! Pls imagine this in a non-powered au with professor!Steve and Tony who has his Stark Industries work thingie💖

Between meetings that have run too long and several overdue deadlines that he finally caught up with, Tony is more than ready to declare it the end of his work week even though it’s only Thursday.  Pepper had shot him one glance and nearly winced at how exhausted he had looked after that last meeting and then decided to let him off until Monday.

And for that, Tony is truly grateful, because it means that he can have a lie in the next morning. It subsequently means that he will be fully energized for date night with Steve tomorrow evening and not have a million things hanging over his head, distracting him from spending time with his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever.

While Tony has been caught up in business with Stark Industries, Steve has spent the majority of every day, and probably most nights, too, grading his students’ assignments or preparing for his lectures, and from what Tony has been able to detect through Steve’s texts, he’s just about as ready for the weekend as Tony is.

***

The next morning, Tony wakes up late, as expected. What is the point of having a day off if you can’t sleep until noon anyways?

He checks his phone first thing and is excited to see a text from Steve. His excitement plummets when he reads it, though.

Hey, Tony. I think I’m gonna need a rain check for tonight. I’ve come down with something and I don’t want you catching this. I was really looking forward to seeing you, though… miss you.

Tony’s heart sinks a little in sympathy, but also because he really misses Steve. They haven’t seen each other all week. Tony can’t even remember the last time they spent more than three days apart, but they’ve both been so busy with work that they didn’t have the time. Hence they had planned date night once both of them were off work.

Aww, I’m sorry you’re feeling bad, baby. I miss you too. So much. We don’t have to go out, though, we can just stay at yours and eat take out and watch movies. I won’t even tease you when you inevitably fall asleep on me half way through.

Tony sends the message and gets a reply less than two minutes after.

First of all, I don’t fall asleep on you. Secondly, you really don’t have to come. Not that I don’t want you here, I do, but I’m pretty gross and 100% contagious. Trust me, you don’t want this.

Tony can’t help but smile to himself as he imagines Steve curled up on his couch, wrapped in a million blankets, blonde hair all messy and disheveled and his nose and cheeks flushed pink. How could Steve think he would ever want not to be with him when he’s like that?

I don’t mind, Steve. I miss you and I want you to feel better. I’m coming over, okay?

You do fall asleep on me, by the way, but I’ll pretend you don’t since you’re sick.

Placing his phone on the beside table, Tony gets up and immediately starts pulling his clothes on. He’ll need to go the store to grab a few things before heading to Steve’s place, like the super soft tissues Steve never buys for himself, and probably some more tea as well.

Tony is just about to leave his apartment when Steve responds after a couple minutes of silence.

Okay. Thank you, Tony. I love you.

Warmth flooding in his chest, Tony types out a quick reply before turning the door knob and going out the door.

I love you. Leaving now, see you in a bit.

***

Tony doesn’t even bother knocking as he lets himself into Steve’s apartment. It’s basically his apartment as much as it’s Steve’s, really, if you look at how much time he spends there in comparison to his penthouse.

It’s not that he doesn’t like his own place, because he does. It’s luxurious, it gets cleaned twice a week, and it’s large enough to fit all of Tony’s crap, which is objectively a lot.

Steve’s apartment is different. It’s smaller, and older, and could definitely use an overhaul in a few places, but it exudes warmth and comfort and feels homey in a way Tony’s place at the tower never could, which is probably why they spend most of their time at Steve’s.

Sometimes Tony wonders why they haven’t moved in together after being together for nearly three years, but maybe they’re just not there yet. And it’s not like it would change a whole lot, honestly. The only time they spent apart is on weeks like this one where both of them are too busy and caught up in their own things that neither of them have the time to make the short trip from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

Tony knows that he wants to, though. He wants to move in with Steve. Or have Steve move in with him. But that’s a minor detail and doesn’t really matter to Tony. What does matter, though, is that Tony won’t ever have to say goodbye to Steve when he goes back to the tower, and that he gets to slip into bed next to Steve every night regardless of their schedules.

And if they lived together, Tony wouldn’t have to rush from his place to Steve’s to take care of him when he’s sick either, because he’d already be there. Anyway, that’s a discussion for another time. Right now, Tony has other things he needs to take care of. Steve, for one.

Tony toes off his shoes and pads into the kitchen, setting the shopping bags on the counter. He might’ve gone a bit overboard and bought an excessive amount of sick-person-things, but Tony has never claimed not to be over the top, especially when it comes to Steve.

From the kitchen, he can hear the tv playing in the living room room, along with a series of incessant sniffles, and Tony figures Steve has already reached the end of his tissue supply. He grabs a box of Kleenex and heads towards the living room where he finds his boyfriend huddled up on the couch.

An empty mug and countless crumpled tissues litter the coffee table, some are on the floor, too, and Tony instantly thinks it looks like every episode of every bad sit-com he’s ever seen where one of the characters is sick. In the center of it all is Steve, who now has his face buried in the crook of his elbow, eyes narrowed into slits, his expression twisted into an anticipatory frown as his breath wavers. After a few seconds, his eyes close fully and he gives into the rush over sneezes.

“ehhCHshoo! H’uhh—uh! chuh’SHhoo! ehh… EISHhh’oo!”

The last sneeze of the triple is strong enough that Steve’s body snaps slightly forward with it, shoulders visibly tensing.

“Looks like you could use these,” Tony announces his presence, waving the Kleenex in the air, and goes to sit next to Steve on the couch, then drops the fresh box of tissues into Steve’s lap. “Bless you, sweetheart.”

Steve still looks a little taken aback by the sneezes and blinks at Tony a few times to clear away the woozy feeling. When he still hasn’t moved after a few seconds, Tony reaches to pull out a few tissues and hands them to Steve.

“Oh, umb… snff! Hey, Tody… snffSNF! Thangks,” Steve says thickly as he accepts the handful of tissues. “I didn’ evend hear you ged id.”

Tony flashes him a soft smile as he brushes a few strands of blonde hair away from Steve’s forehead. “Yeah, you’re probably all bunged up, hm?”

And he really is. His voice has gone all low and he sounds like he’s breathing through concrete. His nose almost looks swollen, too, what with all the congestion that seems to have settled in his head.

Steve sighs stuffily and nods a little. “Yeah, I’mb, uh… snf! snf! oh, ‘scuse m-mbe— huhh-CHshoo! eiiSHH’uhh!”

Sniffling does nothing to stop the tickle from building, in fact, it just coaxes it out. Steve catches the sneezes in the tissues, both hands steepled over his nose and mouth. He gives an experimental blow afterwards, but that just makes him cough, and he gives a few congested snuffles, then coughs some more.

“S-sorry,” he sighs when Tony blesses him and gives him a concerned look. “I’ve beed sndeezing— SNF! all day, ad I’mb… snf! ugh… I’mb jusd so gross.” Steve looks close to a pout, but he can’t keep his mouth closed for more than a few seconds since his nasal airways are completely blocked and impenetrable.

Tony’s worried frown just deepens. “You sound so sick, honey,” he mumbles, brushing a finger across Steve’s nose, putting a light pressure on the maxillary sinus, then strokes it with his thumb. “Can you pronounce anything correctly tight now?” he asks, only half joking.

It makes Steve chuckle, though, a husky, low sound, but it makes his eyes go soft, and Tony feels himself melt a little.

“Ndo,” Steve replies, proving his point and sniffles again. “See? SNFF!”

Tony can only smile at the self-deprecating tone to Steve’s voice and the bashful expression that crosses his face. His already pink cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and the smile he gives Tony is bordering on shy. Blue eyes are fully fixed on brown, and despite the glazed look to them, there’s still that distinct sparkle that always appears when he looks at Tony.

After a few seconds of intensely gazing into each other’s eyes, Steve ducks his head and looks away. “Stop,” he laughs when he looks back up to find Tony still staring at him.

“Stop what?”

“I doad snfSNF! kndow… You’re mbaking mbe nervous,” Steve says, rubbing his neck and smiling sweetly. Then, suddenly, Steve wrinkles his nose, his entire face scrunching up in irritation. He scrubs his nose against the back of his wrist before quickly bringing the rest of his arm closer to his face. “h’h’uhh! huhESCHhiiew! snffSnff!”

“God bless you, Steve…” Inching closer, Tony drops a kiss to Steve’s cheek. It’s a little warm, but nothing too bad, at least not yet. This close, he can see how the hairs on Steve’s neck raise as he places another peck on his jaw.

“Just relax, okay?” Tony whispers, and Steve hums contently in reply. “I missed you,” he adds, just because he hasn’t told him in person yet. Somehow, it feels like a confession.

“I missed you, too.” Steve grabs Tony’s hand, linking their fingers together and giving it a tight squeeze.

“I know it’s barely been a week, but I really hate not seeing you every day.”

“I kndow… mbe too,” Steve admits and catches his bottom lip between his teeth. He almost looks uncertain for a second, but then he takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “What if you just… stayed? Here. With me.”

Steve looks a little nervous again, watching Tony’s reaction closely.

And, to be honest, Tony’s nervous, too, all of a sudden. “You mean…?” Tony starts, dumbfounded and eyes wide. Steve’s nodding. Tony swallows around the lump in his throat. “Are you— are you sure?”

“I mbean, you basically live here already. And… sniff! It would be nice. Not having to miss you.”

“Steve…” Tony breathes.

“We don’t have to stay here either… we could… snf! We could stay at the tower, or find somewhere else. Not that— I mbean, if you snf! don’t want to, that’s… that’s fine t—“

“Steve,” Tony repeats, this time more confident. “Yes. Yes, I want to stay here. With you.” Tony’s tone is level as he answers. He doesn’t recall ever being so sure of anything, apart from the fact that he loves Steve above everything else.

“Oh,” Steve says and lets out a relieved chuckle. “Thad’s… great. Amazing, even. I-I’mb…”

“Yeah, me too,” Tony says and leans in to brush his lips over Steve’s. “But let’s celebrate later, okay? Right now, you’re having tea and medicine, and then we’ll put on a movie so you can fall asleep on me.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “I don’t fall asleep on you.”

“Oh, yes you do.”