#never mind about feeling a normal amount awake i feel like my brain is currently swelling so bad i'll explode like that girl in the boa mv

[mashmouths]

posted my stupid presentation assignment a cute 7.5 hours late to a class discussion so everyone can see that i posted it 7.5 hours late <3 but one of the people who was also meant to post today hasn't yet so i guess i feel a smidge less nauseous

[parvulous-writings]

Not so Wyld morning // Bill S Preston + Ted Logan x M!Reader

Request:     can you write a fluff oneshot with bill (s preston) x ted logan x m! reader with like. a sleepy morning between the three?

Requested by: @mlmpunisher​

Summary: Starts off as the request, and then goes off on a trip to the Circle K. I may or may not have gotten carried away. 

Warnings: a brief joke about kidnapping/death.

Words: 3.5K

Notes:  I’ve been waiting for an idea/request for these two. They’re my comfort idiots. My love for them... Let’s just say I watch the movies a fair amount, eh? My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif 

You, Bill and Ted were spread rather haphazardly over Bill’s bed. Legs crossed over one another, hands on chests or in faces. You were all tangled together, not that any of you really cared about that at that moment.  You had all fallen asleep during a study session- you had been desperately trying to tutor your boyfriends Bill and Ted, so that they didn’t fail their history class and completely flunk out of school- mostly because Ted’s father, Captain Logan, was threatening to send the taller boy away to an Alaskan military school to whip him into shape should he fail the semester. That was now an all too real threat to the three of you, none of you wanted to get pulled apart from one another. You had been trying to quiz them on the philosophies of the great Athenian thinker Socrates (whom both young men insisted on pronouncing So-Crates no matter how many times you corrected them) when you passed out one by one. First Ted- who was up against the headboard, and whose head had slumped forward when you had gotten onto the fifth or sixth question. Then Bill, draped over Ted’s legs, after leaning back to protest about how the quiz was starting to become “A total drag,” around the tenth question. He had promptly passed out whilst you were telling him it was for their own good- you weren’t all that surprised when you were interrupted by a rather loud snore coming from the curly-haired Bill.You hadn’t bothered to try and wake either of them- not only would they both be rather irritable if you woke them up too early, but it was nearly one o’clock in the morning at that point, so you figured that perhaps they were both subconsciously onto something.  You had taken the range and array of textbooks off of the bed, creating a little more space for you to somehow work yourself between them and get more comfortable to get some sleep of your own. After some shuffling, and a few murmurs from both Bill and Ted, you had found the perfect position, where you had promptly fallen asleep with them.

You were the first to wake up. Ted had taken your arm in both of his in your sleep, cuddling it as if it were a teddy bear. Bill’s legs had somehow tangled with yours, and he had ended up nuzzled into the side of your chest, not that you minded all that much. Though Ted was the more affectionate of your boyfriends in public, Bill could be just as affectionate as him in private. You tried not to move at first, not wanting to disturb them- they could both be as bad as each other when it came to being woken up too early (too early was counted as anything before they woke up by themselves). So, for what you had gauged to be about twenty minutes or so, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. There were no thoughts of any importance that drifted through your mind at this point, not until you had finally grown restless enough to carefully push yourself up onto one elbow to check the time on Bill’s alarm clock- which he rarely actually used as anything more than just a normal clock. It had just gone half past ten, and you felt your eyes go wide- that was much later than you had anticipated. Thankfully it was a weekend, though briefly your brain had tricked itself into thinking it was mid-week, causing even more of a jolt in your chest. You would have to get up soon to make your way back home; it was bad enough that you had spent the night out without letting your parents know that you’d be out past eleven o’clock. Every moment past nine in the morning that you spent away from them, the angrier they would get with you.  With this thought in mind you tried to push yourself up a little bit more, fully prepared to undertake the rather massive task of trying to begrudgingly untangle yourself from the two men you held dear, but you were quickly brought back down again by an unseen hand. Your head landed on Ted’s stomach, and you glanced over to him, seeing him peering back at you through tired eyes and a rather messy head of hair. He gave you a rather dopey smile, and you realised he was the one to pull you back; mostly prompted by the fact that Bill was giving another round of freight-train like snores. Ted’s head fell back again when you didn’t struggle against his protests of getting out of bed, and he gave a yawn before beginning to speak. “Morning, chief.” He mumbled, voice still raspy with the last dregs of sleep his body was trying to cling onto.  “I don’t get why you call me that.” You replied in a whisper, trying not to wake Bill. “Surely I should be the one calling you that- given your dad’s job and everything...”  “Eh,” Was Ted’s simple reply, accompanied with a rather lazy shrug. It was about a minute before the only other boy awake in the room started to speak again. “I mean, it does kind of suit you, doesn’t it? You keep me and Bill in order...” He prompted, glancing over to you with that same goofy smile, before his gaze moved back to the ceiling.  “For the most part, I guess.” You smiled back at him, taking his hand and draping his arm across you, so you could play absently with his fingers. Ted never minded that. 

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence, which was disturbed only briefly, and rather inconsistently, by Bill’s snores. You weren’t sure how long you laid there for this time, but the rather delightful monotonous repetition was ultimately interrupted by a quiet groan of protest from the blonde haired boy at the end of the bed. He rolled onto his front, trying to cover his eyes- he had fallen asleep rather inconveniently where the light peaked through the blinds in the early morning. “Someone close the blinds,” He complained, trying to turn away from them but ultimately failing.  “Bill...” You chuckled lightly, nudging him to get his attention. “They are closed. The light is coming through the gap.” Your words were only met with a groan from Bill, and a stifled laugh from Ted.  “You should get it fixed, dude.” The taller boy jested, nudging the boy again, and Bill responded with a half-hearted swipe at Ted’s foot.  “Shut up, Ted.” Of course, he didn’t mean this in an inherently horrid way, despite his gruff tone. He loved both you and Ted deeply, more than he could love anything else- or at least that was what he thought. Ted thought very much the same thing- though that was no surprise. More often than not, it was like the two shared the exact same brain. If they were not thinking of the exact same plan down to the detail when it came to schemes, they were at the very least agreed on the end result. Most of the time this wasn’t too much of a problem for you- usually you were at the butt end of whatever shenanigan they were plotting- but there were times when you did get a little bit overwhelmed by the pair of them. More often than not, the times where you got overwhelmed involved a very particular phone-booth, with some rather unique properties. Unless you were in it’s presence you tried not to think about it- the amount of times you had been put through mind-bending situations already made your head spin to even consider again. They’d predict something, it would happen immediately after said prediction, then they would turn to one another and proclaim a quick “Excellent!” before reminding one another that they would need to remember that later. You were still a little bit confused by it- especially when they sprung something random on you-but you thought you were slowly starting to understand, even though the concept of time travel didn’t seem quite real. 

You broke your train of thought upon feeling a sudden weight on your chest. Though you wanted to crane your neck to see who it was, you didn’t really need to, you knew it was Bill. You did it anyway- your eyes being met with the golden curls of Bill’s hair. “Bill, love, I’m going to have to get up soon.” You warned him, as your movement would definitely affect him more than Ted.  “No.” He replied simply. From his tone, you could tell he didn’t overly want to debate it.  “But I stayed over without letting my parents-”  “You’re fine, you’re safe, what do they have to complain about?” He grumbled, shuffling so that his chin was on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your middle. His deep green eyes met yours, before flitting briefly to Ted, giving you both a smile. “C’mon, dude. It won’t hurt to have a little longer with us, right?” He asked, and you moved your hand to quickly brush a stray curl from his brow.  “Maybe he should go soon- like, just to check in.” Ted piped up, ever in your corner. “Cause you know what happens if he gets in trouble. He won’t get to see us for like... A week. That is most heinous, and you know it.” At this rather right line of reasoning, Bill groaned, burying his face into the fabric of your shirt.  “Shut up, Ted.” This was quite muffled, and of course still not completely serious. You laughed softly, “Okay- what about this? One hour. Like this.Then, we can ask Missy to drive us back to my place, and I can let my parents know I’m fine, and you two haven’t like... Murdered me, or something.” You joked, and you can feel Ted nod enthusiastically underneath you.  “Yeah, that’s a good idea!” He agreed, and you could hear the smile that was in no doubt plastered onto his face. “Then we can all head down to the Circle K afterwards, right?”  “Sure we can, Ted.” You agreed, reaching up behind you to clumsily pat his cheek.  “Only if he isn’t in trouble, remember?” Bill pitched in, shuffling to get comfortable again. “What about half an hour? If we want to head to Circle K, obviously.” You all consider this new plan for a moment, before each of you gave a curt nod, in unison. 

So there you all stayed- you nearly even fell asleep again before you felt Bill roll off of you. He then took your arm and helped you up, and Ted quickly rolled off of the bed to grab his sneakers. Bill chucked yours at you, before going to get his shoes as well. Ted was the first downstairs- “Hey, Missy?” He called out, and he was quickly met with the young woman’s reply.  “Yeah? What’s up, Ted?” She asked, giving a warm smile.  “We were hoping that you could drive us to (Y/N)’s house?” He asked, briefly wringing his hands, as he eagerly awaited her response.  “Sure thing!” She nodded cheerily, “Let me just finish making these drinks, and I’ll be right with you. You guys go out to the car.” She nodded over to the door leading to the garage. As you and Bill started down the stairs, Ted eagerly gestured for you both to follow him.  It didn’t take Missy very long to finish making the drinks she was preparing, and you all piled into the car. “So- did you all sleep well?” The blonde woman asked, glancing back at you and Bill in the back of the car- Ted had a fascination with sitting in the front seat. Ted and Bill nodded individually; you were the one to verbally reply.  “Yeah, I think we all got a fairly good night sleep.” You give an almost awkward smile. Though, at one point, both of your boyfriends had had some form of crush on her- despite her being quite a few years older than all of you- you hadn’t entirely understood why. You never really mentioned it though.  “Good to hear,” She replied, still wearing that joyful smile. “Hey, Bill- you might need to use the spare key today, the one behind the plant, if you’re staying out late with the boys.” She took a turning as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the road. “Me and your dad are going out for dinner tonight.”  “Okay, Missy- I mean, mom.” Bill replied, quickly correcting himself on his mistake. “Just stop on the corner here,” He told her, gesturing to the side of the road a five minute walk from your house.  “Are you sure?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. “I can take you all the way, if you-”  “No, it’s alright, thanks, Missy.” You interrupt quickly, leaning forward. “Here is fine.” She shrugged, but begrudgingly pulled over. 

“Thanks, Missy!” Ted called after the now fleeting car, giving a wave as well, before jogging to catch up with you and Bill, who had already started to cross the road to get to your street. “I’ll quickly grab some money whilst we’re there,” You told the pair of them, and they nodded.  “I was thinking we could get some slushies.” Ted suggested, giving a wide smile.  “Blue and red?” Bill added, giving a smile of his own, and Ted nodded energetically.  “Our tongues’ll end up as purple, you two know that, right?” You teased with a grin, glancing over your shoulder as Bill laughed heartily. It took Ted a moment longer to get the joke, but he started laughing even harder than Bill when it clicked with him.  “Oh well,” Bill shrugged, a rather mischievous smile. You fell into silence again as you jogged up your driveway, almost wrenching open the door and calling out a hasty “Hey!” to announce your presence to the household and those within it. You quickly made your way to your room, as Bill and Ted quietly entered your home after you, choosing to stay in the hallway- even though they had visited and stayed over at your house many times before. They were both silently hoping that they were making their will to leave relatively soon clear. Your father came into the living room, glancing to the two boys standing awkwardly in the hallway. “Bill, Ted.” He greeted, calmly. Bill mouthed a silent ‘Hi’, whilst Ted just waved. Neither of them wanted to anger your parents- Ted, because he knew how authority figures could be, he’d had experience with his own father, and Bill just didn’t want you to be punished and kept away from them. You came back through as quickly as you could, palming some of your loose change in your hand, making sure you would have enough for a slushie for yourself, and for your boyfriends if they hadn’t brought any money with them- which was more than likely.  “Going out again?” Your father asked you, wanting to make some sort of conversation. You nodded, glancing to him and giving a smile.  “Yeah, heading out to Circle K with Bill and Ted.” You told him. He was a lot more relaxed with the rules than your mother- whom you currently assumed to be out for lunch with one of her friends.  “Did your study session go well, then?”  “Yeah- we went over Socrates again. We all passed out- that’s why I didn’t come home or call last night.” Your father laughed gently, he understood.  “I figured as much. Your mother was saying that you could have been kidnapped- but I kept saying you’re a smart kid, you’d know what to do if that were a risk. Plus, I don’t think there’s anyone in San Dimas who would want to kidnap you.”  “Even if they did want to steal him away, we’d take whoever it is on,” Bill stated, confidently- nudging Ted.  “Yeah, we would!” The taller boy confirmed with a nod. You giggled and shook your head at the pair. Even your father chuckled gently at them.  “Good to know my son is in safe hands.” Though your father was aware that these two weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed of San Dimas, he wasn’t about to take away some of your only company. Your mother had brought it up to him before, but he usually elected to ignore the comments. “Anyway- get going, before your mother gets back. If she sees you going off with these to again without checking in properly she’ll have a fit.” He gestured to the door, “Just be back by eleven tonight, alright?”  “We’ll have him back by then!” Ted told him, opening the door and striding out, followed closely by Bill, and then you. Your father gave a wave, before heading back into your family home. 

There were few words on the journey to the local orange ringed store, you only started to speak again when you had each purchased your chosen flavour of slushie. Bill with strawberry, Ted with blue raspberry, and you with another blue raspberry. You all took a seat on the curb, and you decided to fill the silence with one of the first thoughts that came to your head mid-sip. “So, are you two ready for the end-of-semester presentation Mr Ryan is going to assign?” You asked, and both of your boyfriends looked rather shocked. “What? He’s done it with every other year-group, and we’re not exactly different, specification wise....” You pointed out, and Ted groaned.  “I suck at presentations.” He complained, “Plus neither of us can remember anything that Mr Ryan has taught us!” He exclaimed, gesturing rather wildly with his slushie. “I mean, even with your help, dude, I don’t think we’re going to do all that well.” You were about to speak, but Bill was the one to step in first.  “We gotta try, man,” He placed an affectionate hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “If we don’t, it’s even more likely that you’re going to be sent off to that heinous school in Alaska.” Ted considered this, then nodded. Bill was right.  “I’ll do everything I can to help my boys remember all they can,” You told them, a fond smile on your face which they quickly returned. They loved being referred to as your boys, they couldn’t even deny it- you could see it in their eyes. Bill leant over and pressed a very brief kiss to your cheek- though not before checking the parking lot was clear, empty of onlookers- and Ted reached across Bill’s legs to grab your hand, squeezing your palm to show some affection; you were too far away for a kiss from him, and he didn’t overly want to get up whilst his slushie was still rather full. He took a sip from the plastic straw in his beverage, before clearing his throat. “So..” He began, starting to grin wider than usual. “Who wants to make purple?” He nudged Bill, who then quickly looked to you, wearing the same grin as your other boyfriend. You started to laugh- of course this had been something that neither of them had forgotten. 

Without another word exchanged between you, you leant to close the gap between you and Bill, letting lips and tongue tangle in a passionate display of affection. Ted stared on adoringly, not overly minding that Bill was the first to get your attention and affection- though now he had finished off the majority of his drink he scuttled round to your other side, carefully taking your jaw in his hand when you eventually pulled away from Bill to catch your breath. Your break didn’t last for too long, since Ted pulled you gently so your already kiss swollen lips met his equally soft ones. Bill couldn’t help the warm and love-filled smile that spread over his face, before he just had to press a kiss to your cheek, and then reach over to Ted’s cheek to make sure he wasn’t left out. You all separated after a minute or so, and you wiped your lip carefully, wearing the same wide and almost goofy smile as the other two. Your lips, and tongue, as predicted, had turned a rather strange shade of purple.  “I think we should get another snack,” Ted suggested, “Cause I’m hungry, and then we can get the colour off of our tongues,” He grinned, and Bill considered the preposition.  “I guess some food wouldn’t hurt...” He agreed, “Marshmallows?” He suggested, which was replied to with a nod from both you and Ted. “I’ll get them then,” Bill smiled at you both, searching his pocket for some spare change as he got to his feet; marshmallows were a fair bit cheaper than slushies, and he could afford them with what he had to hand. Whilst he went back into the Circle K, you shuffled closer to Ted, smiling lightly as he drew you closer with an arm around your shoulder. That morning had certainly been most excellent, as most of the time with your boyfriends always was- it was something that you always looked forward to; spending time with them, making memories that would forever make you smile. 

[rodeo-boots]

Hi there! Im not sure if I've requested from you before have I?

So I was wondering if I could have a one-shot Sadie/F!ChubbyReader? Something sweet that gets steamy.

I was thinking that it could be the readers having a rough time because she thinks she's unworthy of love and the fact that she's into women makes it even harder.

Take your time, no need to rush~

Feel free to message me if you cant/won't do this I understand Xx

You hadn't requested from me before, btw. BUT I really loved writing this one for you! I hope it's what you've been looking for <3 (I also hope there are no more errors left, I only proofread this once)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2679

Warnings: NSFW, Low Self-Esteem Reader (Body-Image issues)

AO3

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It was one of the rare occasions when camp was quiet, most gang-members fast asleep as darkness spread over Clemens Point.

You had missed the silence, already used to the rambunctious songs, to the laughter and chatter of the others. Even if those good times never were to last.

These days, it was hard to achieve happiness, to feel even remotely safe, your travels East having shaken the entire group to the core.

And sometimes, you wished you had stayed in the West, had bought land and settled down like you've planned, even if that might not have changed a thing.

When it was quiet, like now, your mind often wandered, drifted along with the sounds of rippling water.

It was nice here, better than it had been up at Colter, but you still felt out of place. And no amount of fresh air or crisp water could change that.

With a sigh, you leaned further against the log behind you, your arms crossed in front of your chest where you sat.

At least in the darkness, no one had to stare at you. Had to see you.

You could just be, with no obligations to be appealing to anyone at all.

Never before had Dutch sent you out to distract any targets, to use your good looks on unsuspecting fools like the other women at camp often did. Because you had none. Or so you told yourself.

Of course it was harsh, of course you had other things to offer. But with a couple pounds too many, with chub around your cheeks and your hips, you didn't feel as attractive as you wished you would be.

You envied Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly... if not for their appearance then for their confidence. And Sadie? Sometimes you wished you could walk a day in her shoes, that you could stop caring about what other people thought and put on some pants.

Though you feared you'd only get stared at more like that.

Time went by without you noticing. Maybe you've nodded off somewhere down the line, the sight of the water gleaming beneath the moonlight oddly tranquil and soothing to you.

Your thoughts continued to roam, continued to shift and flow like the water in front of you.

Occasionally, you'd see a fish jump out of the lake, would hear a nocturnal bird taking flight within the nearby trees. And you yearned to be free like them; free of judgment, of society's standards, and your own low self-esteem.

You wondered if they perceived beauty like humans did, if they stared down at the two-legged, wingless creatures, saw long and flowing hair idly whipping in the breeze, or a freckled face and bright eyes and fell in love.

It would be a loss if they didn't, if they were unable to see what you did – and you decided that maybe, being a human might not be all that bad.

Sure, all you could do was behold the beauty around you. You knew you would never get a chance of something more; knew you couldn't compliment the way Sadie's yellow blouse flattered her figure and receive more than a simple "thank you".

It had always been like that – you, finding beauty in another woman, finding beauty in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes and the way she strutted and sauntered along the way. You knew you couldn't change that, knew that you would never be 'normal', but hell, you didn't want to be. If there even was such a thing as normal.

In the past, and even up to the current day, you've struggled with it. With your sexuality.

You had come to terms with it, of course, but you knew that you only stood out more with your chosen way of life. If your body wasn't enough to keep people away, your orientation might just be, and it worried you, what the others might think should you ever come out to them.

It hadn't been your intention to grow upset, your brain doing it to yourself no matter what you tried to do about it.

So you sat and stared out onto the lake, gaze blank as you simply beheld the beauty all around. Watching, and doing nothing, as always.

The sound of boots upon sand drew you out of your thoughts, your head turning to see a familiar figure approaching.

She was tall, slim, her hair braided beneath her hat. A few strands hung loose, though that only held it's special charm.

"What're you doin' out here?" Sadie asked, sitting down on the fallen tree behind you. She kept a bit of a polite distance, crossing her legs as her elbows rested upon her propped up knee.

You swallowed softly, looked back ahead and out onto the wide lake. "Just thinking," you explained, unable to come up with anything else that might explain you being restless and awake at this time of day.

The other woman hummed, her own gaze trailing over the water in front of her.

It appeared black in the dark of night, only little light reflexes showing the movement of the soft waves.

"Did someone say somethin' again?"

Her sudden words brought you back to reality, the silence between you having stretched for a couple minutes before. It wasn't rare that the less pleasant people at camp upset you over your insecurities, pointed out facets of yourself that didn't need to be addressed.

You shook your head, anyhow. Today, that hadn't been the case. Besides, you never knew Sadie paid any attention to the treatment you received. "It's me," you mumbled after a moment of consideration. "Me who made me feel like crap."

And while you huffed at the words you spoke, they were genuine. Oftentimes, it was you who made your life harder than it had to be.

Sadie pushed herself off the log, plopped down into the slightly moist sand by your side. You watched her from the corners of your eyes, unsure what she was intending to do.

But she didn't do anything, merely sat with you and stared out into the water, thinking about what you had said before.

"I did that a lot," she eventually spoke up, turning to face you. "Guess it ain't the same, but I– sat and thought a lot, too. That never seemed to help." She chuckled, but the sound was rather mirthless, her tone more serious than anything.

You had seen her in the past, had seen her sitting outside of camp, far from anyone else. She's had a broken heart to nurse, had a terrible loss to get over, and in the end she had come out stronger than ever.

"You don't gotta tell me, if you don't want. Maybe it'd make you feel better, though."

Inhaling, you thought about her words, wondered if you would even be able to put your innermost thoughts and feelings into words.

Never before had someone asked you to share them, no one ever having as much of an interest in you as that.

"It's nothing," you tried to deflect, tried to invalidate your troubles in order to not burden Sadie with them here and now.

The woman snorted, however, raised a brow as she looked at you. "Don't look like nothin' to me," she pointed out, not impolitely.

"How about this–" she sat up, her back against the log as she gestured for you to come closer, to lean back against her chest.

For a moment you could only stare in disbelief, though you took the chance now that it was offered to you. It had been a while since you've last been physically close to anyone, after all.

"Comfortable?" Sadie asked. You gave her a nod, your heart racing in your chest and beating within your ears.

Holy Shit. That hadn't been how you'd imagined this night would go.

Sadie wrapped her arms around you loosely, rested her chin atop your head. She seemed content herself, seemed like she had wanted to do that for a long while. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

"I know you think you're worse than you are," Sadie spoke up again, keeping her voice low while speaking to you. It was oddly soothing, her usual rough tone sounding more than just pleasant to your ears. "But you ain't bad. Truth be told, I admire you."

That made you pause, your breath catching in the back of your throat. "Me? For what?"

She chuckled kindly, brushing through your hair to tuck a few strands behind your ear. "For knowin' who you are, and what you want. For stayin' true to yourself no matter what anyone says."

Yet again, you hadn't expected her to be all that perceptive, hadn't expected her to know much about you at all. For as long as you've known her, your conversations had been brief, cut short by your occasional shyness and nervosity. Sadie seemed to have read you better than you ever could've thought.

"I..." you weren't sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all. The woman's arms around you were soothing, almost soporific, though the warmth pooling within you made it hard to consider dozing off.

"I always wanted t'know more about you," Sadie continued, nuzzling the top of your head, her lips brushing over your strands of hair. "Wanted to know more 'bout the beautiful woman who's stolen my heart."

You were sure this had to be a dream, that you had passed out after all and your mind was playing tricks on you by now.

But Sadie felt as real as could be, her hot breath in the nape of your neck, her arms around your waist, thighs left and right of your hips. Whatever you had thought of before, all your insecurities and doubts, it all seemed far away by now.

"Me– Me, too," you brought out, confessing to your feelings without directly doing so. Sadie was more bold and confident than you were, was more brave and straight-forward in your eyes. And just like she had said before, you admired her just as well. But most importantly, you were sure you loved her.

Feeling enlivened by her words, empowered by the warmth swelling within your heart, you turned around, straddled her lap and properly looked her in the face. "I think I love you," you properly confessed, cupping her freckled cheeks like you've wished to do for so long already.

She smiled up at you, keeping her hands on your waist for now as she leaned in, and captured your lips with her own.

The kiss didn't last as long as you've wanted it to, but upon pulling away, Sadie spoke up again; "I know I love you." Her smile grew, your forehead resting on hers when you returned the gesture.

Once your lips had met the first time, you couldn't stop yourself from going in for a second kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut, fingertips gliding along Sadie's sides and down to the hem of her shirt. Now that you knew of her feelings towards you, and were fully certain as those within yourself, you only wanted more.

She reacted in kind, teased your tongue with hers when her lips parted ever so slightly, a moan slipping into the kiss. You weren't sure if it had come from you or her, but that didn't matter much, not when your hands soon met bare skin, fingers gripping her sides while her own ran along your thighs.

"You wanna do this right here?" She asked, leaning back a little to capture your stare.

Slightly out of breath, you nodded. Hell, you didn't care where you'd do this, as long as you could feel her skin on yours.

Without missing a beat, Sadie worked on helping you out of your dress, glancing back, only to make sure camp was as quiet as it had been before.

Even if a few drunkards were still milling about, you couldn't care less, your fingers working on her buttons to relieve her off her top layer, before climbing off her lap to get her pants off her hips.

Naked, you laid back in the sand, invited her to follow you only for her lips to meet yours again. She placed her hat on top of your head, gave you a small smirk as her lips wandered lower, over your collarbone and down to your chest.

Moving boldly, her mouth latched onto one nipple right away, one hand kneading the other breast while she suckled and licked your sensitive bud.

Your breath hitched, spine curving to get closer to her heavenly mouth, your head already swimming without her having done too much just yet.

Soon enough, she had stimulated your other nipple to full hardness as well, laying down on her side next to you, and pulling you in for another kiss. "Let's keep this quiet," she muttered, her fingeres wandering once again until they reached your sex, a hum leaving her lips when she discovered the hot wetness there.

She caressed your folds, encouraged you to hitch one leg up and around her hip while coating her fingers within your slick. Slowly, her fingers circled your clit, made your hips jerk sporadically and your muscles tense here and there.

"Can I?" You had only pulled away from the kiss for a second, glancing at her while your fingers slid down her flat stomach.

"Be my guest," she grumbled, trailing lovebites along your collarbone and up to your shoulder, the small motions of her fingers on your clit steadily driving you insane.

To offer her the same kind of pleasure, your hand soon found the spot between her legs, met with an equal wetness as that between your own. You groaned, teasingly gliding your fingers through her folds before your thumb focused solely on her nub.

She gasped, almost sounding surprised, like she hadn't been touched there in a while, though that only spurred you on more. You wanted her to feel as good as possible, pulling away after another few moments only to propose another idea.

"I wanna taste you," you muttered, fingers disappearing from her soaked cunt as you laid back. Seemingly catching on right away, Sadie climbed on top, straddling your face while hers was right in front of your own crotch.

With the new position, you dove in without a moment's hesitation, held onto her hips and pulled her close as your tongue licked through her folds and up to her nub.

She moaned out, had to have bitten down on her lip to keep more sounds from surfacing before she leaned down herself, and focused on your clit right away.

Besides the sounds of your actions, the occasional slurping, squelching and your labored breaths, it was still mostly quiet, the area belonging solely to you in this moment.

You rolled your hips upwards, chased more of the heavenly feeling of her mouth on you as you felt yourself getting close.

Clearly, Sadie wasn't all that far, either, her abdominal muscles flexing while her thighs tried to squeeze your head, the motions of her tongue growing more desperate the closer she got to her climax.

It was over much too quickly, had been too long for you to hold back at all, your body tensing for a moment before releasing in a rush of endorphins that was better than anything you've had before.

You pulled back for air, slipped two fingers into Sadie's tight cunt to grant her a satisfying release as well, and watched, when she shook and trembled through her very own orgasm.

She rolled off of you after a moment, cursing under her breath as she did so.

It wasn't long before she crawled back up to you, however, before her lips met yours and you could taste yourselves upon each other's tongue.

"You fancy a midnight swim?" She asked when she pulled away, sitting back on her knees and helping you up when you agreed.

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

[marvelwritings]

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

Summary:  Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.

In hindsight, the exact memory of when they started researching how to travel back to the past is lost on him. It’s just that he had been so devastated, after Tony’s death, that his emotions had reached through to the only person that somewhat knew what he was going through. Peter didn’t want to compare Wanda’s situation with his, after all, Wanda was the one that was forced to choose between the love of her life and saving the universe, but the weight of their grief was the same none the less.

Wanda had approached him while he was out on patrol, and though there was not set plan, Peter was willing to try anything to get Tony back. They started of their plan by seeking help from Doctor Strange, and when that hadn’t worked,  Peter had snuck in and stole -borrowed as he preferred to call it- a few books that might have been helpful for their goal. Between going to school, patrolling, putting up a front for his friends and aunt -and as of late Happy-, and searching endlessly for a scrape of hope, Peter had worked himself to the bone. It would all be worth it though, if their plan came to fruition.

It hadn’t worked the first time, nor the second time, and neither did the third. Failed enough times that Peter’s heart sunk into his stomach, and that he carefully tried to convince Wanda to try something else. The spell was eerily straightforward with very little need for ingredients, nothing more then saying two sentences and having a personal item of the person they strived to reach, and if they hadn’t managed to work it out in three attempts, Peter assumed, though the idea rendered him dejected, it would never work.

Until he went out on patrol again that night. One moment he was excitedly talking to Karen, animatedly retelling the story of how he managed to stop a bank robbery, as it the AI hadn’t witnessed it, and the next he tried to shoot out a spiderweb to building so he could swing over, only for the web to hit nothing but air.

‘Ow, wow’, Peter floundered, trying his best to reach something and prevent himself from slamming on the ground -again-, but he failed. He banged into a tree at full speed, colliding head first and tumbling down while hitting every branch possible. That was the first sign that should have tipped Peter off. There were no trees in the middle of Queens. Under normal circumstances, he would have considered that, but the heavy impact is not working well in his favor.

Landing on the ground on his stomach with a hard thud, his body, and specifically his ribs, screamed in agony, and he rips the mask off without considering his predicament. Anyone could walk by and see the face beneath the mask. Still, Peter can’t breath with the way his ribs object, but at least without the mask it’s fresh air he inhales.  

He turns around and struggles to get on his back. His hand instinctively slide over his stomach, protecting the hurting area. Come to think of it, every area on his body hurts. Peter knows the logistics of cracked ribs, and savvies that even with the aid of super healing, it’s not going to repair in a few minutes times.

He inhales as a small as he possibly can, despite knowing he shouldn’t, and braces himself for running back to May’s and his appartement. He can’t stay here, where anyone could walk up to him and attack him while he’s down. He laughs incredible, at least aunt May, and Tony of he was still here, would be proud of him for calling it a day.

When he blinks his eyes open though, he’s met with nothing but grass and green for miles, and a blurry vision that tells him he has a concussion. While trying to sit up, his visions spins like  he’s a part of a rollercoaster, and his stomach turns uncomfortably.

‘Oh no,’ Peter moans, ‘aunt May is gonna kill me.’ It’s the only thing he can say before he has to swallow back bile and decides it’s best to be quiet from now on. He struggles to his feet, stumbling a few times before successfully finding his footing in the grass.

His vision does not clear, but he forces himself to take a few steps in any direction anyway. Wondering if seeing all these trees are because of his concussion, Peter freezes when he hears tiny footsteps approaching the opening his still currently residing in. It’s accompanied by children’s crying, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound. Perhaps it’s a trap, but Peter has never done well ignoring a child ever since meeting his baby sister.

‘Hello?’ he calls out tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut firmly to clear it, but it doesn’t help.

‘Hi’, an adorable voice answers back to him, a head peeks out from behind a bunch, as if the child is equally as curious about Peter as Peter is about her. He can only notice she does this because blurring colors that inch closer little by little. The girl sniffles, ‘I hurt my foot.’

Peter is out of his depth here. He’s only ever impressed children by swinging them around in the sky, but his body will not allow that right now. Instead he tries to focus on what he would do if Morgan was the one that was hurt. Adopting a tone only Morgan has ever heard from him, Peter crouches down on his knees. His ribs creak in dismay, but he ignores it firmly. Someone needs him right now.

‘Oh that’s not good. Does it hurt a lot?’ Peter himself cannot assess the damage.

‘No I guess not’, the girls splutters, pulling up her foot to show Peter.

‘Okay, that’s great. Do you live for away from here? I bet that if I take you back home, your parents will give you a lollipop because you were so brave.’

‘Oh’, the child cries out in wonder, pain in her foot forgotten completely at the mentions of dessert. Peter can’t help but smirk a little, bribery works on Morgan every time too. ‘I’ll show you, but you have to carry me okay?’

Peter can’t think of a worse activity for his injured body to sustain right now, but he’s not about to let a kid down.

‘It’s a deal, lead the way and hop on up.’ His tone is cheerful, even though he has to bite back pained groans by biting his lip.

The girl shows no hesitation and follows his lead immediately, giggling in delight.

‘So, do you want to play a game on the way over?’

They end up playing I spy with my little eye, which Peter loses every time, and not only because he can’t see straight at the moment. The girl, being clearly very young, is a spitfire, which is good because it means Peter doesn’t have to talk during the trip.

It gets increasingly harder to carry her the longer he has to endure the pain, but he knows that salvation is near when the girl, points to a brown blob in the distance. ‘That’s it, there it is. Put me down, I want to get my lollie now.’

Peter obligates, and watches as she runs without any regard for her painful foot, smiling to himself. He hears the door of the house open, and a male cadence calling out and sounding so joyful he must not have noticed Peter yet. He can only imagine the weird sight that must be, to see a stranger bringing home your daughter, but Peter can’t move away yet. His body has stopped listening to his commands.

‘Daddy, daddy, can I have a lollipop, Peter said I could if I was brave, and I was! He said so himself.’

Peter assumes she points to him, and his smiles weakly, although he’s having trouble even finding the strength to do that. Once he walks a little further, he should rest for a bit, close his eyes for the briefest amount of time. Before it get’s to that point though, Peter hears a glass mug being dropped on the ground. The sounds is piercing in contrast between the quiet forest and the intrusion, but that’s not the weirdest thing.

‘Peter?’ That same cadence exclaims, the voice breaking of the syllable. It’s strange, because for the briefest moment Peter’s mind flashing the name Tony at him, but the man is long gone.

Peter just about handles frowning at the direction, a weird knowingness to the exclamation, like the man somehow knows who Peter is.

‘How do you-?’ The sentence is cut short when a wave of nausea slams into Peter again, and he can’t keep himself upright this time. His knees buckle, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ground nearly welcomes him with open arm. Before he can collide with it again however, in such speed Peter can’t phantom the man being fast enough, he instead lands between the mans arms. All the strength has left his body, and Peter can do nothing but let his head roll onto the man’s shoulder.

‘Pepper’, he screams, so shut up it comes across as hoars, pulling Peter even closer to him than thought possible. ‘You’re okay kid, you’re okay. I promise you’ll be okay.’

---

Peter comes too slowly, groggily, as if moving through solaces. The logical part of his brain, of which there is much, screams at him to panic. He doesn’t know where he is, he can only vaguely remember the events leading up to his current situation, and he can’t ensure his safety or anyone else’s furthermore, but the smaller part of his brain soothes him.

Tells him everything is fine and he’s safe. It’s rare that Peter feels that way. Even at home with May in their appartement, there’s a constant need to be alert. Peter snaps awake from every little sound, his body turning rigid from the forceful transition between sleeping and waking up, even if the cause was only a door creaking.

It doesn’t make any sense for Peter to be this tranquillized right now, or any other time for that matter. He groans, pained, fluttering his eyes open to find himself in a dark room with the windows drawn. His eyesight is still blurry, his head is still pounding beneath his skin, and because there’s no acute danger to be detected- his spider senses tell him so, though he hasn’t learned to trust them completely yet- he allows his eyelids to droop closed again.

A warm, calloused hand strikes through his hair softly, while a thumb strikes out the frowning lines that pain flashes put on Peter’s forehead. Peter realizes with a startle that his not alone, and that must mean his Peter tingle has failed him, but can’t force himself to push the hand away. It’s nice to experience a loving touch after so many rough handlings, and the memories of lab days with Tony, car rides with Happy, building Lego with Ned and cuddling with MJ render him immobile. He longs so fiercely to feel safe, to be safe, that he leans into the touch like a cat being petted.

‘It’s okay Pete, just go back to sleep.’ A rough voice rumbles from besides Peter. All the rest he previously had, flies out of the window, as his entire body fill up with adrenaline. That voice belongs to a man that’s long gone, a man that sacrificed himself to save Peter and paid the ultimate price for it. That voice can only originate from a ghost.

Peter practically jumps up, opening his eyes and looking in the direction where the voice came from, but he miscalculated how fast his concussion would go away. He stumbles, faceplanting into the body that held Tony’s voice, and was only held up by the grace of the other man. Again, there were bouts of pain, but not only from his physical ailments.

The fire that Peter imagines to be inside of him, the one that destroys everyone else around him but leaves him, unfortunately intact, burns up from the remnants of his heart. He’s tried very hard to move on from Tony’s death in the past few months, and he had almost convinced himself that he was over it. That would be a flat out lie though, and Peter Parker doesn’t lie. The agony of the situation had just been shoved to the back of his mind, while Peter took on so much so he wouldn’t have to touch upon it, to prod in it. It peeked out every once in a while, when Happy would tell May about his life and an anecdote with Tony would be told, or when a poster with Iron man on it drew his attention, but it’s easier to pretend to be okay then to deal with the truth.

‘Hey Peter, I’m glad to see you too, but don’t get too excited now bud.’ Tony laughs, but the tone with which he says it sounds grief stricken, with the barest hint of hope coating the edges. He lowers Peter back down into the bed, and Peter has to bite back a sob at how comfortable the sheet caresses his skin, and how gentle it is on his wounds.

He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isn’t any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that It’s no weird fever dream. Peter’s hand clench up in Tony’s shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him. He still can’t see the expression on Tony’s face, but he prepares to be rejected, and can’t find it in himself to care. Even if Tony pushes him away after barely a brief second, at least Peter still did something he had set out to do for months now.

That doesn’t happen. Instead, Tony grabs him even tighter, a gentle hand cupping the back of Peter’s head as he curves his body around him.

‘Tony’, Peter whispers, the first tears starting to track a path on his cheeks. ‘Tony.’ Sobs are building up in the back of his throat, unable to be contained for much longer, and as they escape, Tony doesn’t scold him, or tells Peter to stop, but he starts to rock the both of them.

Peter can’t be sure, but he thinks he feels splatters of Tony’s tears on his shoulders as well.

‘Morgan’, Peter says nonsensical after a while, sobs are still heaving his body, but he’s had experience pulling himself together in need before, and right now he needs to know Morgan is safe.

‘Is she okay?’ he asks Tony, with a clumsy tongue. The crying has made his weak and aching body even more exhausted, the rocks reminding him of babies being cradled and normally he wouldn’t want to be seen as a baby, but he doesn’t care right now. He just want to enjoy being around Tony again.

‘Morgan?’ Tony laughs, sniffling quietly like he’s refusing to let Peter knows his been crying too. ‘She fine, she’s probably playing in the barn again even though Pepper tells her she’s not allowed. She’s a bit of a menace, just like you Pete.’

At that, Peter sobs turn into heaves, his entire body shaking with the force of them. All the grief of the past few months, the guilt that Peter has carried knowing it’s all his fault, is all coming to a head now. It’s his fault that Tony’s dead, it’s his fault Morgan has to grow up without a father, and it’s his fault the world doesn’t have Iron man to protect them anymore. He’s tried to so hard to make it right, but how can he? How can he ever be the person Tony was, when he’s just Peter Parker.

‘Kiddo, please calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick’, Tony soothes despairingly. He lowers peter again but stays close, his hand going back to striking Peter’s hair. ‘You’re okay, I promise you, I won’t let anything else happen to you.’ Tony is getting chocked up again, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it. ‘Not again.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’, Peter whispers, his voice wrecked by the amount of crying he has done. He wants to talk to Tony, explain what happened, spend time with him and beg for his forgiveness, but Tony shushes him, and he’s asleep before he can argue.

----

The next time Peter struggles to consciousness, he senses their presence; Morgan, Pepper and Tony, and he knows without a sliver of doubt that its them. He shakes with the knowledge. The room he’s in, his room as Pepper had told him upon visiting for the first time, is scattered with spiderman toys, and even a few posters on to wall to complete the image. The sight is ridiculous, but Peter laughs at it all the same. He tries to keep the smile on his face, but melancholy isn’t easily beat.

At the very least his concussion seems to have gone away since waking up a first time, and all that’s left to remind him he took a fall is a vague pounding in his head, and the nausea. It’s not as bad as before, and Peter takes the reprieve with greedy hands.

The hustling and bustling of the family, alive and well, downstairs is crustal clear to Peter’s advanced hearing. It’s strange, being back in the lake house without it seeming so bleak. After they defeated Thanos, and Mister Stark died, Peter’s mind helpfully supplies, he had only been here twice. Pepper tried her best to come back, to give Morgan a home away from the home they owned in the city, but too much had reminded of the husband she was forced to burry, so they moved fairly quickly.

So it unusually to see it the way it was supposed to be. Lived in, with Morgan’s giggling and Pepper’s pretend scolding voice, with mister Stark chuckling quietly to himself, a perfect little family. It’s supposed to emit a warm, honey affection bleeding through every crack, and it’s a shame it isn’t anymore.  

‘Morguna, go play with your toys for a second, I need to talk to your mom about something very important.’ Spying on Tony leaves a bad taste in Peter’s mouth, but he can’t help it. He’s been so devoid of any scraps connecting him to Mister Stark, that he’s willing to forgo manners.

‘Is it a surprise?’ Morgan asks, mirth in her voice. She’s so much younger than Peter ever remembers her being, because he’d never got to witness her at that age. His heart clenches, the hurt still so fresh.

‘You know what little miss, as a matter of fact it is, so you better scoot, or we might not be able to get in time.’

Morgan squeals in delight, and Peter hears her little footsteps sprinting outside. Peter smiles, he knew Tony would be a good dad someday. The downstairs is quiet for longer than normal, and Peter suddenly turns worried that Pepper and Tony caught him.

Then, Pepper speaks up again. ‘You can’t keep spoiling her you know. She’ll turn into a monester by the time she hits fourteen.’

‘She’s fine,’ Tony placates. Peter visualizes Tony pressing a kiss to the top of Pepper’s head, the only weakness the woman has, which he takes great advantages of. The issue seems to be settled, the playful disagreement put to rest.

Peter ponders over what to do next. He’s so extremely awkward, and despite hoping for an opportunity like this one, he has no idea what to say to Tony.

‘Oh Tony, is it really him?’ Peter freezes, so caught of guard by the heartache in Pepper’s words. She sounds both optimistic and demoralized, as though she has had her hopes up for so long she can’t risk it again.

‘It is Pep. I know it is, I saw it in his eyes.’

‘But how?’ Pepper questions extensively. ‘He was blipped, just like so many people. None of the others have come back.’

‘I don’t have all the answers Pepper, God knows I wish I had. All I know is that my kids back, do I need to question why?’

Hearing, outright hearing mister Stark say Peter is his kid, has Peter tearing up, something sharp sticking at his ribs and feeble heart. It hurts just as much as he longs to overhear it again.

‘He might be able to bring the others back. Tony, I get why you don’t want to hear this, but he could be the key to helping millions.’

‘He has to be nothing but healthy alright? Maybe he can help, maybe he can’t, but all I’m sure of is that I’m never,’ Tony’s voice sinks lower and even more venomous then before,’ putting him in the line of fire again.’

I’m okay, Peter thinks, needing to scream it to Mister Stark’s face that he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t up to anyone, just like it wasn’t up to anyone to save Tony either.

‘I’m sorry’, Tony utters, sounding defeated and, honestly, old. ‘I’m sorry, but I just got him back, and I can’t, I can’t lose him again.’

‘It seems like the first step in ensuring it never does it to go up and talk to him. Go to him Tony, say what you couldn’t say three years ago. And’, Pepper swallows thickly. ‘Tell him we all love him.’

Peter’s grateful he won’t be forced to initiate the first move by walking downstairs.

‘Underroos, I’m coming up so you better not be sleeping anymore.’ The flawless transition between vulnerable and slipping into his role a cool role model is staggering, but it doesn’t surprise Peter in the slightest anymore. He’s spend too much time with Tony for that to be the case.

He doesn’t know what to do with his body, how he’s supposed to respond to seeing Tony in person again? Part of him wants to lung at his mentor, while the other part hisses at him to act like a normal human being. Peter ends up sitting down on the bed, standing in front of  the door, hiding behind the closet and finally back to bed in the span of however long it takes Tony to reach the room.

By that point, Peter is too distracted by the glimmer of his past to overthink the encounter. He remembers the lego set as if it just happened. It was the first bout of Peter’s interests that Tony listened to wholeheartedly. After the battle with Thanos, it had slipped Peter’s mind completely. He had no idea Mister Stark had this thing in his home.

‘I asked May if I could take it with me, when I moved out here’, Tony says with melancholy, taking a seat by Peter on the bed, but leaving a considerable distance. He’s not looking at the lego set at all, instead dividing his full attention on Peter. Swiftly his eyes roam Peters face and posture, sucking in all the little details Tony hadn’t been able to discern about him after a while.

‘There’s so many of that stuff in her apartment, but this one was the most fun to put together, because it’s the death star you know? It has all this detail and it took forever to make but that’s all good, cause there’s so much detail and-’

‘Pete’, Tony sounds chocked up, like the façade he was forcing himself to wear is already slipping. Peter hasn’t even said anything yet. ‘God kid, where the hell di you come from? I’ve tried everything but I-‘, he takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter has only witnessed mister Stark crying once, so it’s a shock that it occurs again. ‘I didn’t know how.’

‘Mister Stark-’, Peter stops, cutting his own sentence off. Is he even supposed to say anything? Is he supposed to blab the secrets of the future. His Spidey scenes are distinctively ordering him not too, but Peter itches to all the same. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to say,’ he settles on, ‘with the butterfly effect and all.’

‘The butterfly effect? Kid what in the world are you talking about?’

‘You know, like in the movie, where he can travel back in the past but it always alters things for the worst?’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen the movie’, Tony asserts, almost deadpans. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Just- just please trust me Mister Stark’, Peter pleads, hands beginning to tremble with the need to reach out for reassurance. The memories of the one complete hug Tony had ever given him sparking a longing in him.  ‘Do you trust me?’

‘Of course’, Mister Stark firmly agrees.

‘Then don’t ask me how,’ even to his own ears the desperation is tangible, ‘please.’

Tony clasps his hand on Peters shoulder, a ground weight to which Peters never endings zing in relief. Before he can stop himself, he’s crumpled in, his head on Tony’s shoulder while his hands twist in the back of mister Stark’s shirt. The reciprocation is immediate.

‘I’ve missed you’, He chokes out, feeling rather annoyed at himself that all he seems to be doing is crying. His time here is limited, he can sense it, the hunch that time is of the essence and he doesn’t posses much of it, and he refuses to waste it on more tears.

‘Me too, Pete, more than you know.’

‘I think I have a pretty good clue’, Peter laughs bitterly, it’s not the same really. He’s only been missing mister Stark for a few months, the man in front of him has been missing him for three and will need to miss him for two more years. The buzzing in the back of his head grows louder. Another stroke of Parker luck, he spend most of the time he had with mister Stark unconscious.

Whatever, he can’t change it now, but he has a few more things to say before he needs to leave.

‘Tony’, he begins, using Mister Starks first name to ensure he understands how important this is. He pulls away, just enough to be able to look Tony directly in the eyes, but what he sees there is nothing short of panic. His hand tighten, softly guiding him back but Peter resists.

‘Please don’t tell me you have to go again.’ It seems that despite Peter intent, Tony savvies more than he’d like. Peter smiles bitter.

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘What?’

‘What happened on Titan, when he blipped all of us, me, that’s not on you mister Stark.’ Peter repeats patiently, watching as Tony’s face hardens.

‘Peter-‘

‘It’s not. You couldn’t have protected me any more then you did. I’m sorry it turns out the way it did, but I need you to know it’s not on you.’

‘I should have done more.’ Tony insist, raising his voice a few octaves. Downstairs, Morgan asks Pepper why her dad is so close to yelling. ‘I should’ve, you were my kid Peter, are my kid, and I failed.’

‘You didn’t fail’, Peter yells back just as loudly, he stands up from the bed, subconsciously trying to appear taller so he has more say in the situation. ‘Because if you already failed then what did I do? I’m still here and you-‘, he cuts himself off once again, almost spilling all the secrets.

Tony approach him like he’s an animal that needs to be handled with care. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m a grown man Pete, I can take care of myself.’

‘But I-‘

‘Ah, ah, ah, not talking back, I’m the adult here. Zip it kid. How about this, we’re both not to blame alright?’

Peter isn’t convinced Tony believes that, but it’s still a weight of his shoulders to have said it to Mister Stark, maybe, in the future, when he pins the blame on himself once more, he’ll think about this moment. He nods.

‘I have to go now Mister Stark’, The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes that it’s the truth. Whatever is going to happen next won’t wait much longer.

Peter walks over to the window and opens it, ready to swing out after saying goodbye. He can’t go and see Pepper and Morgan, it’ll upset them as much as it’ll upset him. He’ll see them back in his time.

‘Wait,’ Tony screams, as I Peter was going to leave without a goodbye. The embrace he pulls Peter in is heavier this time, loaded with the upcoming goodbye’s. It’s still nice though, and Peter enjoys every second of it. Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s temple then holds it there when he asks; ‘How long do I have to wait before I see you again.’

Peter swallows painfully and considers lying to make Tony feel better but, ‘two years’, he eventually confesses, figuring that he can at least give that little piece of information.

Mister Stark simply hums, but Peter notices his tears nonetheless. With one last, solid squeeze, Peter wiggles out of the embrace and tries to stall his own tears. It would hurts less if he could go back to find Mister Stark there, if only he had a way to warm Tony.

He’s pretty sure he can’t go into too much detail but; ‘Mister Stark, when it happens, please hold on. I can’t lose you either.’

‘Okay Pete,’ Tony assures, his hands shaking with the urge to drag his kid back, safe in his arms. ‘After this is all over, we’re going to hold a movie night okay? With pizza.’

‘And Star Wars?’ Peter asks hopefully. Mister Stark laughs, his eyes wet. The smile is all Peter demands before he jumps out the window, not waiting for an answer. He prays that he’s done enough without messing anything up. He hopes.

---

When Peter makes it back to his own time, his phone pings with a message.

It reads; ‘Hey kid, still up for a movie night?’ send by Tony Stark.

[bowieandqueen11]

Feel Like I’m Falling / Will Graham Imagine

Request: Yo can I please request a will graham x reader that follows the “grump character falls for the sunshine character” trope? However you wanna do that is cool :) 

I’m sorry this is so terrible @soggy-enchilada​ but I LOVE HIM

Comments are always appreciated! <3

Will Graham was definitely an odd man.

You had never really spoken to him at work - too afraid to, in fact. Anytime you had walked past the office he was currently discussing new murders in, or rushed past his lecture theatre, he was usually either holding something with inordinate amounts of caffeine in it, or instead using his hand to rub the frown lines above his eyes.

When you had asked Alana about Will, she completely closed off, just warning you to stay away from the man, that he was trouble. Yet you couldn’t help yourself, and you also couldn’t believe that someone who owned that many dogs could be anything other than a good man, even if you weren’t quite brave enough to test that theory.

Will had spotted you of course. He knew who you were - your name, your age, your job, where you lived. Professional interest, he had told Jack, in a fellow colleague. In reality, though, the only time Will Graham felt calm was when he looked at you. It scared him, being able to look into someone’s eyes so easily, which is why he did it so rarely.

You had never really spoken to him at home, either. Living near Will Graham was a fun challenge in itself, especially when you were both each other’s only neighbours for miles around. When you did bump into the strange man, very rarely, it usually only ended with you cheerily wishing him a good day and him mumbling a goodbye in reply, eyes down and darting over his feet as he blushed to himself.

You had never caught the small stare he always threw back at you once you had wandered off home. 

You never thought that tonight, of all nights, you would finally become intimately acquainted with him. Humming to yourself, you tap your hands on the steering wheel as the warm orange glow of the radio brightens the otherwise navy darkness of the front seats. You had always loved the drive home from the FBI Academy, the dusk and scattered starlight always was such a beautiful contrast from the dreary atmosphere and pressure of your office.

For Will, as he walked along the dusty road, still not fully aware of his actions, the night had fallen with such a bitterness, such a void of colour that had rutted the once green fields and had left everything cobbled and broken under the moonlight - everything, except the falling of his steps. Those stayed strong, despite the cold stealing every bit of his warmth, his breath no longer visible under the stray stretlighting, as he felt the icy road beneath his bare feet. 

When your headlights flashed bravely over the man, swallowing in the figure standing in the middle of the road in nothing but a sweat soaked t shirt and tight fitting boxers, getting your brakes to stop on time was a near failed challenge. 

‘Mr Graham?!’

Leaving the engine running, you clambered out of your car and towards Will, who had finally started to waken from his nightmare by the bump of your front bumper against his bristling leg. It took him one, two, three moments as he blinked rapidly, arms coming up to huddle the tops of his freezing arms, before he spotted your stunned expression standing on the road as well.

‘J-Jesus! Are you okay? What are you doing out here - you must be freezing!’

His chin trembled a bit before he managed to get his mouth open enough to reply. His head shook a little as well, his brain still not fully awake, and yet fully shocked by the look of genuine concern on your horrified face as you managed to take a step forward.

‘I... I can’t remember. I must have been having a strange dream. It - it felt like I was falling, like I wasn’t really in control of me.’

‘Well, let’s get you nice and warm first and then we can figure this out together.  Come on, you can come stay at mine for a bit, it’s not far from here.’

He jumped a little, as you grabbed onto his wrist, but finally relaxed into your touch as you led him, shivering, over to your passenger side.

~

Surprisingly, Will had allowed you to place the blanket around his shoulders without much displeasure. He was feeling slightly less awful now, more put together, definitely steady as he sat on the edge of your settee and waited for you to come back. He played with the stray edges of the woven material, obviously well loved, full of frayed strands and balled wool that smelt so obviously like you it overpowered him. Pulling it tighter around his chest, he sighed as he gripped onto it like a lifeline, as if it were more substantial than an old piece of loved yarn, and instead the only thing keeping him from tumbling head first into the abyss again.

‘I hope this is okay - I know you usually like coffee, but my mother always told me hot chocolate is always the best remedies for cold nights and lonely hearts! I don’t mean to imply that you’re - I-’

You glanced at him for a moment, a blush beginning to colour the edges of your cheeks as you giggled lightly and offered him the mug. He found himself offering a genuine smile back, his lip twitching at the edge as he took it out of your hand, thumb clumsily brushing over yours as the small curls of steam rose.

‘That’s okay, none taken.’

‘Was that humour, Mr Graham?’

‘A futile attempt, and please, call me Will. You have seen me in my underwear, after all.’

‘Two attempts at humour, I must be dreaming!’

He looks away, grinning to himself and failing to suppress a small laugh as you place your own cup next to the fresh bouquet of lilies that proudly lies as the centrepiece of your living room table. He takes a sip, trying to hide his shyness in the hot swirling milk, but his eyes still watch your every movement as you squat down by the fireplace, hoking the logs around a bit to try and get the blaze burning a bit brighter. You could feel his eyes on you, silently taking in every little flick of your fingers, every time you bit your lip in concentration or every time your eyes sparkled with joy. He was analysing you, trying to figure you out, trying to understand how you made him feel like this by doing so little.

‘Are you warm enough? I have some extra blankets, and a couple of coats, and some duvets up in the attic, and some -’

Will relaxed against the sofa cushions, his smile unaffected as he looked over at you. 

‘I really should go, I’ve caused you enough trouble tonight without having to take care of me on top of that.’

‘I honestly don’t mind... it’s actually quite nice to have some company. Are you sure you’re feeling alright now? I wasn’t sure if you were awake or asleep when I found you.’

‘I’m not even sure if I’m awake now.’

A smile crept up your face, and the air grew thick with a tenderness that couldn’t help but make Will breathe slower, deeper, happier. He wasn’t used to this, feeling so calm, so normal, so wanted.

Will Graham never thought he would find himself falling so easily.

[sapnxps]

(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

[laceymorganwrites]

Shallow love

Word count: 2,128

Pairing: Nacht x reader

Warnings: SPOILER ALERT, swearing, teeny bit of gore, insecurities, I probaby butchered his character >.< I´m so sorry, baby

A/N: NACHT APPEARS IN TODAY´S EPISODE SO OMG I HAD TO POST THIS!!!!

okay so

Nacht is my second favorite Black Clover character and yes, I am currently: freaking out. also he has Dabi´s VA so: perfection. 

I will definitely post more about him in the future! I just wanted to get this out today since it just fit so well <333 I´ll be back to regular posting in April

You didn´t think that you would ever be able to feel peace again and go back to your normal life after the attack of the Diamond kingdom.

And yet here you were, in the calm after the storm.

It was weird. Everything was in chaos, the villages and overall buildings were even more destroyed than when the eye of the midnight sun attacked.

Everything was as per usual at the Black Bull´s base, nothing out of the ordinary except for Yami forcing Nacht to stay now.

You´ve known him for a long time now, being the first member of the squad, and you never could read him. He always intrigued you.

And yet he also always made you distance yourself from him.

Nacht was the type of guy who was too blunt for his own good. You appreciated honesty, but he just always made it hurt.

You knew full well that you weren´t an innocent little lamb, but who was?

What irked you most about him was how badly he thought and spoke about his own squad, to this day you asked yourself why he even joined in the first place, he could´ve just as easily denied Yami´s order.

Sure, Yami could be persistent, but that wouldn´t stop someone like Nacht.

There had to be more to the two of them but over the years you learned that you just didn´t want to know.

Every time you approached Nacht about it he just shut you off and reminded you of all your flaws again.

Like he always did. With everyone.

Except for Asta, like everyone, he took a liking to the little guy.

Though, you had to admit Nacht seemed more open and approachable after the war. And yet you didn´t.

Instead you watched him at first reluctantly, over time without any hesitation, becoming rather friendly, talking to the rest of the squad.

In all those years you have known him you always asked yourself whether you really did. You highly doubted it.

You just couldn´t figure him out. Did he just wear a mask? Were all of his infuriating smiles for show? Was it all a game to him? What were his goals?

And why…

No. You didn´t want to think about that.

What was the point anyway? Anyone got a crush at some point, the only difference was that crushes usually didn´t last this long.

Especially if said person didn´t pay you any mind unless they were insulting you.

Nacht mostly stayed to himself, making it known he didn´t want anything to do with the rest of the squad.

Though like anyone else who stayed with them for a long amount of time, he warmed up to everyone. Still, he had his moments and didn´t exactly change his opinion. Because in his world people couldn´t change, they just didn´t.

And that made you sad.

Because deep down you just wanted him to acknowledge you, to tell you that you weren´t as bad as he thought, that you were a good person.

But at one point being around him just hurt. You cared too much, thought too much about him, it kept you awake at night.

If only you went out of your room into the kitchen where he would stay because of the same problem.

Especially since that day…

You were surrounded. Everywhere you looked you saw black, greedy eyes. The devils were everywhere and all hope seemed lost. You couldn´t rely on Asta only anymore, he already went through enough. He shouldn´t fight your battles for you just because he had strong powers, he was just a little boy.

And yet there he was, fighting ferociously, once again defeating the devil that came to slay everyone that day all those centuries ago.

It was hard to keep at least somewhat of an overview, everything seemed in shambles and the screams and cries of everyone were deafening.

You really shouldn´t be focusing on Nacht right now, now was not the time. Not that there ever was an appropriate time for that anyway.

But of course you just couldn´t help yourself, your eyes wandered to him frequently even as you told them to stop.

Though in this instance it might have not been that bad. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he was about to do, everything around you faded away, you felt numb and your body moved on its own to prevent him from going through with his plan.

“Please die with me” were the last things that left his lips that shut your brain off and made you move automatically. They weren´t uttered to you, Nacht didn´t even look in your direction, it was none of your business.

Even still you couldn´t just stand by idly and watch him die, watch one of the only chances you had at winning die, watch the man you hated to love die.

The little devil on his shoulder looked scared as your gaze met him and honestly, you could understand it all too well.

You were scared too but now wasn´t a time for fear, you needed to stop him at all costs.

“That´s the stupidest thing you ever said!” you screamed out as you were still running towards him.

Finally his head turned to you, he still had that infuriating smile on his lips, though it was so sad this time.

“It´s the only way…” he replied.

“You don´t know that! You can´t know that! You can´t just throw you life away like that, it won´t change anything! In fact it will… we will lose. We will lose so much more than just the fight, don´t you understand that? You´re not more or less important than the rest of us and you´re our vice captain, so it´s my duty to stop you from sacrificing yourself!” you said, grabbing his shoulders and frantically panting, you looked at him aghast, shocked, eyes wide and searching for something...anything in his eyes that wasn´t dull.

“Then we´re all going to die, but it´s so typical of you to be so selfish” he told you, his tone as entitled as always.

“You´re selfish too, you know that?” you whispered, averting your eyes.

“You can´t just run away from your responsibilities. It isn´t right” you stood your ground, balling your fists in anger and frustration.

“It´s the only way, why do you even try to stop me?” he sighed, looking at you. He was feeling quite frustrated now too, what were you trying to achieve? If he didn´t make this sacrifice so many more people would die, didn´t you care about them? Wasn´t it your job to protect everyone? So why were you trying to desperately to save him out of all people?

“Because I care. A lot. We all do. And yes it´s selfish, you´re right about that. We´re all selfish losers and assholes but you know what? We do it best and we´re goddamn proud not to be as picture perfect as all the others. That´s what defines us. And you don´t have to agree with that, but I´m fucking stubborn so don´t think for even a second that I´ll let you go through with your stupid plan!” you looked at him with such emotion, such passion, it made his heart ache with a foreign familiarity.

Nacht never paid you any more mind than he did the others, just thinking all of you were useless. That was why he was so surprised that someone would voluntarily want to save him.

He treated you like shit, sure it was more out of a defense mechanism cause he couldn´t bear leaving people behind, having people worry about him, he already had enough guilt to carry.

But hearing your words was like a revelation to him.

Maybe he still had a role to play in life, maybe his story wasn´t over yet and just maybe could he live his life without having to fulfill anything, but solely for himself and the ones he cared about.

Maybe it was finally time to start caring more than he was ready to admit, to take a step into the unknown and discover it with…

You.

It had always been you, he realized as he saw your desperate face, your hands on his shoulders, all dirty from fighting and yet feeling warmer than any fire ever could.

“Yes, maybe living might not be that bad” he tilted his head, smiling at you.

You felt an intense amount of relief wash over you as you gave him an exhausted smile back.

That was the first time you ever smiled at him, Nacht would never forget that moment, the moment in which you broke down his walls without even knowing it.

He would have to thank you later for that, when he fully comprehended what that meant.

Asta and you were training together again outside while the others were inside going on about their daily ruckus. Some were on missions already but some, like Asta, who were wounded and exhausted still needed to rest properly.

Though it was no use. Asta would never rest like he should unless he was knocked out.

And you tried that the first week, you each took turns but eventually you just couldn´t keep up anymore and let him train like he wanted.

Nacht also kept training with him, though he himself was new to everything going on and needed time to properly accommodate to things.

You stretched a bit, sitting down to just enjoy the sun for a moment.

“I can´t wait to go on missions again! I´m as good as new, I´m ready, I promise!” Asta beamed and showed off a bit but you only sighed.

“It´s not my call, kid” you apologized.

Asta pouted and kept training.

“You got a mission” Yami announced as he joined you outside and Asta practically jumped up and down with excitement and energy.

“Just the usual, rebuilding a town and fighting some magic beasts that escaped” he explained and Nacht slowly appeared behind him.

Asta´s eyes were beaming right now, he was excited to learn even more about the devil´s powers although he got quite the hang of it and even made a new friend.

Nacht smiled and waved at you, you just looked away as always and stood up to go back inside.

Nothing had changed anyway.

Until Yami stopped you in your tracks.

“If you get going now you´re gonna return by nightfall” he said and you nodded.

Asta sighed in frustration.

“I wanna go on a mission too!” he cried out.

“Not happening” all three of you said at the same time, shutting him up for a bit.

Both you and Nacht didn´t say anything as you made your way to the town in question.

Nacht because he didn´t know how to approach you and you because you thought there was no point in it, he wouldn´t think of you any differently.

And so you started your mission, once again fighting alongside each other and even though the task was dull Nacht´s presence gave you an energy that was unmatched, you just couldn´t help but smile.

When you were done you went deeper into the town to help the people rebuild it.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he said out of the blue, making you turn around in confusion.

“Why would I go on a date with a guy who hates my guts?” you asked, making him sigh sadly.

“I´m sorry if I left that impression on you. I really don´t hate you… it´s quite the opposite actually” he explained.

“Did you just… I swear I never heard you apologize in all those years I´ve known you” you chuckled, not quite processing the second half of his statement.

“I never saw the point in it. All my life I always watched from afar, I always wanted to save people but you know, I´m just operating in the shadows. I´m good at spying and gaining information, saving people. Not so much making friends with them. I never saw it as my role. After all I lived my life for the kingdom and its people and not for myself. Why would I care if anyone liked me? In fact it would be the worst thing that could happen… death was always part of the job description and I was always willing to take that risk if it meant you could live longer. But now… ever since that day, I just want to live with you” he confessed, leaving you at a loss for words, so you did the only logical thing to you in this moment: hug him tightly.

“Of course I´d like to go on a date with you, Nacht. And I will keep protecting you” you smiled.

[namelesswolffreak]

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

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

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

[radiosandrecordings]

Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!

“Ahaha, I’ll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!” I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting

CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.

Ao3 version too 

They’d probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable. 

It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.

And wasn’t that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasn’t quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario. 

The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The “Where are we” and the “How long were we asleep?” and the “Is it finally safe to rest?” and the “I love you so, so much.” 

Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martin’s stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time they’d felt mundane hunger? 

“Do you think they even have food here?” Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet. 

“Perhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.” 

“Yeah, but Annabelle though,” Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. “What if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and it’s just… Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. There’s one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.” 

Jon winces. “I’d really rather not picture that right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, course,” Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. “Should probably go check though. Don’t exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though I’d happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Don’t think I’ve slept that well in… Ever.” 

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I’m quite peckish as well… Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.” Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. “Probably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.” 

“You want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?” Martin asks, prying the duvet away like he’s pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they can’t just stay in bed all day. He hadn’t been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.

“I think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so I’d rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.” Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound… His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower. 

When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. It’s a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood. 

“You want to go first then?” Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again. 

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.” 

Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes. 

Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in… However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin he’d be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesn’t want to close the door. He doesn’t want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now. 

“... Jon? You okay?”

Jon realises he’s been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words. 

Martin shifts, sitting back up again. “Jon, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It comes out like a croak. “I- I don’t Know.”

Martin’s tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jon’s direction. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t Know,” he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. He’s gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that he’d watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know he’s there. 

Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. “And- And that should be a good thing. It should. I don’t want to Know. But it’s… I’ve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels… It’s raw and it’s vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and I’m vulnerable and that means you are too. If I’m in another room, I can’t Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I can’t save you.”

The right wrapped around to hold Jon’s left hip, Martin’s free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels. 

“Jon,” he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didn’t even consider how it would feel for you. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, because… Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.” He brushes Jon’s fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “Tub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?” 

Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively… Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of… Intimacy. 

Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. “I’m sorry, if that’s too much, we can just-”

“No,” Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. “No, I… I would like that. That sounds nice.”

He knows it’s from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you really don’t seem up for that. If that’s not in your… Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.” 

“I’m just a little shaken, is all,” Jon says, but he knows there’s a truth to Martin’s words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, they’d had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martin’s side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isn’t what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but there’s still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn. 

It’s not that he was bashful about it. He’d seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed… No, that wouldn’t be happening. 

“I- Can I make one request, though?” Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martin’s. 

“Anything,” Martin replies, no hesitation to be found. 

Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. “Can- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-” 

“No, no that’s okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,” Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it. 

They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.

Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner. 

“Find something you like?” Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface. 

When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jon’s of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?

Martin cleared his throat. “Do you mind, then, if I…?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.” 

Martin pulled his shirt over his head. 

It’s not that Jon didn’t find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didn’t change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him. 

He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, he’s fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he hadn’t trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief. 

“Shall we?” Martin asks, gesturing towards the water. 

“Let’s,” Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water. 

He’s just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. There’s not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jon’s just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martin’s hips. 

If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care for relief that it’s no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth he’s finding it hard not to fall asleep again. 

“This okay?” Martin asks, because he’s still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries. 

“Far more than okay,” he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except he’s wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadn’t quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake. 

They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo. 

“Here, let me,” Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. “If you want, that is. Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you want me to do your hair? It’s just- It’s probably easier, y’know, than you trying to do it yourself.” 

“And far more romantic,” Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martin’s freshly cleaned cheek. 

“That too. Do you want to turn around?” 

Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until he’s facing away from Martin. He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martin’s arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martin’s chest. It’s very intimate. It’s very nice. 

“That okay?” Martin asks again, and more than ‘I love you’, that’s a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff. 

When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jon’s scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martin’s chest, and it’s only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there. 

“I really hope that was a positive thing and you haven’t just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,” Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martin’s chest. 

“Still conscious, don’t worry. That’s just… Very nice.” 

“Oh! Well… Good.” 

This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jon’s hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martin’s hands. Even when Jon knows he’s long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.

Eventually, both of Martin’s hands come to rest against Jon’s torso. “This okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t mind any of the touching, as long as it’s… Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.” 

“Gotcha,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks. 

It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars. 

Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jon’s brain has gone a little fuzzy. He’s unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if he’s being honest, it’s working. No ulterior motive. This isn’t the lead up to anything. It just exists on it’s own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing. 

After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jon’s elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jon’s neck.

He’s perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve… This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.

Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martin’s chin. Martin’s knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Eighth Letter

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

To: Xu Minghao

From: Y/N

Dear Minghao,

I just want to thank you for being my friend despite my awkward confession, even if this current friendship might not last long. Actually, I don't think it will.

I'll be honest here since I didn't tell you this yet.

I spent a few years away from love. My high school years had so many different love stories and none of them exactly had a happy ending. They were all bittersweet endings and even the love story with you is a bit bittersweet.

I guess I misinterpreted your actions. I'm not mad or extremely sad that you rejected me, I feel like that put me in my place. Now that I think about it, maybe we weren't meant to be lovers. So, I don't want to drift away from you just because you rejected my confession. I'm not going to love you like that anymore, I want to keep you as a true friend.

I hope you won't feel awkward around me. I can already feel the awkward air but I wish for it to fade quickly. Let's not stop being friends. I'll stop loving you though. I hope you won't think of me differently now that I've confessed. I feel like you would pretend that it's fine but inside, the awkwardness only grows.

As I'm writing this letter, the fate of us is still being determined. Even I don't know what we are going to become. If the ending for us is unhappy and we decide to stop being friends... Well, I would blame myself for it. I would be losing a friend that I adored.

MinghaoI won't ever talk about my confession again so I'm writing this.

, you're a really attractive guy. I'm sure that anyone would fall for you if they got to know you. You're fashionable, fun, kind, warm-hearted, and also a great therapist, haha. You give me the best advice and always listen to my problems whenever I need to let them out. You always encourage me to speak up.

Remember that one time when I was getting yelled at by the professor over a misunderstanding? I was just standing there like a complete idiot, listening to the professor's words of criticism when you stood up and said, “Professor, it wasn't Y/N's fault. If you looked closely, you would have seen that the dress already had holes in it from the beginning. It was a part of the design. As a fashion professor, how could you overlook that?”

Your expression was so serious and you completely cornered the professor. I feel kind of bad talking about the professor like this but I just want to praise you. The professor apologized after class but I knew he was unwilling to admit his mistake.

When you stood up for me for the first time, you left such an admirable first impression. I wanted to get to know you immediately! You were so cool speaking straightforwardly like that and not hesitantly speaking your mind and standing up for me. I still admire you.

Minghao, honestly, I don't think we'll be okay.

The words still kind of hurt me. Whenever I see you, I think back on those words you said to me.

Since I was just a friend that confessed, I don't think you would remember your response to my confession, so let me remind you; not in a bad way. Since this is a keepsake letter, I just want to remind myself.

I think you and I were in front of an art museum together. You invited me along that bright, sunny morning, and of course, after realizing my feelings, I couldn't deny your offer. I was excited.

I'm sure you'll never know my side of the story so I'll tell you everything that happened that day and why it leaves a small scar in my chest. I'm not blaming you for it, I'm blaming myself. Minghao, it's all my fault.

Honestly, I was too expectant. Gosh... I was way too ahead of myself that day. Our friendly hangout in my head was a date.

After you invited me and told me that you'd come to pick me up in 30 minutes, I rolled out of my college dormitory bed and rushed everything. I did my hair, makeup, and tried to dress prettily for you.

I did my best in that short amount of time but the only thing you complimented was my outfit. Sure, I was happy, but also disappointed. I was bummed because I didn't even have a chance to breathe, meanwhile, you were looking as fashionable as ever with almost no effort.

The museum was fun. I always had a knack for art so everything was admirable and lovely. What made it better was that I was able to spend that time with you. We shared our thoughts with each other but to me, you looked way too serious. I should have gotten the hint then that you didn't feel the same way about me as I did toward you.

Suddenly, this lump started forming on my chest and I just felt like I should get it off. I didn't want to hold back anymore so after walking around the art museum, the words just slipped out of my mouth.

Then you went silent while staring at me.

“I'm sorry.”

I said it was fine then because I thought I was really fine with the rejection. But just a bit after, I realized that I couldn't ride in the same car as you. I wouldn't be able to. Everything came flooding back into my brain, the memories of us that I thought were memorable. That's why I told you to leave first. I'm sure you knew that we both were uncomfortable.

After you left, I just sort of... reminisced our sweet moments that seemed romantic enough to make us more than friends. I did that while taking a walk.

I especially remembered the days when we went shopping, worked together after courses and talked about our days. Even these things that seem so small held so many memorable things to me, including moments that made my heart pound and race.

Since you rejected me, friend-zoning me, I can only conclude that you don't like me back, thus the conclusion that these moments meant nothing more than acts of kindness.

Minghao, you shouldn't be so kind, or else people would misunderstand you, like me. Why must you be so attractive? You're masculine but at the same time, you can become so soft and cute and caring.

Anyway, at this point, you've probably lost interest in reading this letter (if you ever read it). I hope you'll trudge on though as I keep going forward with the reminiscing. I know that you like reading, Minghao.

So, when we went to the bookstore, there was something memorable that happened to me there.

Yes, it made my heart pound too.

Yes, it made me fall harder for you.

I was really sleepy that day. All the college work piling up only made me more stressed and I was so tired. You didn't know that I was, did you?

I ended up falling asleep at a table while you were choosing books.

When I woke up, I saw your face. It wasn't upside down, you were sitting next to me, with your head lying against the table, facing me. It's still a question to me why you did that when you could have just woken me up or sat somewhere else, but well, you rejected me.

You and I just stared at each other. I was wondering then, what were you thinking?

At that time, I didn't know how you felt about me, so every little thing was hope. Your face was so close to mine and our bodies were against each other slightly. I was able to feel your warm breath.

“Are you wide awake now?” You asked.

Minghao, when you asked that, I honestly got the feeling that you were nervous because you quickly got up and removed the book you have placed under my head while I was sleeping.

You? Nervous? I guess I was wrong.

Even now, I feel a bit hopeful that maybe sometimes, I did make your heart race, but that's all just false hope.

We went clothes shopping around a month ago.

You wanted to get some new hats and I tagged along because we were friends. While picking hats, we were talking about normal stuff that we always talk about, so I was busy with that conversation. I was talking to you while looking at hats and then suddenly, I felt a hat plop down on my head.

When I turned around, I nearly bumped into your chest. Your hand was still on my head, where the hat was placed. I was so nervous and my whole body was burning up, you know that?

After that, you had to attack again with your soft giggles and smile, making me completely melt.

Then, you took off the hat and patted my head and ruffed my hair, then continued the conversation as if you didn't just do that to me. Of course, you probably never knew how I felt.

This is the last one, I promise.

I picked this one carefully.

That day after courses. It was a rainy afternoon and we were together at the library, studying and working together.

It was getting dark but we didn't expect the rain so we didn't take umbrellas with us. We ended up staying at the library for hours, just talking.

That was the important, special part of this memory.

We talked a lot and I was happy. You made a lot of jokes and I learned a lot more about you. You also smiled a lot. I was just really happy to be around you, talking about your life and mine.

I don't know why this one is the most memorable for me. I just always, constantly, remember the scene of us sitting at a table in the library, talking to each other beside a window painted with raindrops.

I don't know if you felt it but to me, it seemed more like we were flirting.

Minghao, now that I've reached the near end of this letter, I think I've decided the future for us.

Let's not stay friends. I don't want to fall for you. I don't want to love you. Being your friend would only make it worse for both of us since you didn't feel the same way.

You asking me to your b-boy competitions, you asking me to look at your art projects, it was all just normal things that friends would do but I overreacted.

It's all my fault and I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry and I know that I can't fix our friendship. I was such a fool.

Minghao, I hope you can find a better friend than me; A friend that doesn't misunderstand you, a friend that can love you without falling for you romantically, a friend that can be better than me.

My love stories always have a bittersweet ending so don't worry, you're not the only guy.

Thank you for being my friend for a year. I really appreciate it. You were a great buddy, fun, kind, serious, and caring.

I'm sorry for being this way.

I'm sorry for what I did, though I can't take back my confession.

I shouldn't have fallen in love, right?

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

7/1/21 - 10:28 pm

a/n: Get well! Wishing our best leader a healthy recovery!!! + it's the month of July, which means... Wonwoo's bday (and my sister's). + Ending fairy Boo = iconic ><

[aubreyprc]

In My Veins 2

Part 1

Hotchniss

__________________________________________

All that you rely on

And all that you can save

Will leave you in the morning

And find you in the day

-

The five of them stand and stare at the Doctor, none of them breathing as they await his words. Words that could change their lives, their relationships, their family forever.

The surgeon removes his scrub cap and looks at them with what can only be described as pity.

“She made it through the surgery,” He informs them, but his tone tells them there is more to the story than that, “But unfortunately she is still unresponsive.”

“Unresponsive? What does that mean?” Garcia asks, gripping her hand in Derek’s tightly as the man tries to swallow his fear.

“There is brain activity, which is good.” The surgeon tells them, “But she is unable to breathe on her own.”

“But she’ll wake up, right?” The Tech Analyst questions. The surgeon looks at her and then at the rest of them before answering.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Agent Prentiss’ injuries were extreme. Her heart stopped three times during surgery, she also lost a large amount of blood before she got here, as well as a worrying amount on the table.” He tells them all, “For now all I can tell you for sure is that we did manage to stop the bleeding, we were able to repair the damage to her leg with no issues. However because her heart did stop three times, her brain was without oxygen for short periods of time, so if she does wake up, there is a chance there could be some brain damage.”

“Brain damage?” JJ whispers, placing a hand over her mouth and turning away from the doctor.

“She is currently on a ventilator that is breathing for her, her heart rate is steady.”

“But?” Aaron questions and everyone turns to face him, before looking back at the doctor for an answer.

“But, the changes of her coming out of this are low.” He says, “The extent of her injuries were a major cause for concern the moment she arrived, bleeding in and near the lung, tears in major blood vessels and arteries. We have done everything we can for her. Right now, I would suggest that you prepare yourself. The odds of her waking up from this are slim, and if she does wake up there is a chance she might not be the woman you remember. There is no way to tell the significance of her brain injury until she wakes.”

“Thank you.” Rossi says after a few moments, the doctor nods.

“She is in room 804, visiting hours are still for another three hours. You can all go and sit with her.”

“Do you think she’ll wake up?” Garcia asks softly.

“I think the fact she’s made it this far is a miracle. She must be a very strong woman.”

“Yeah.” Garcia smiles, “She is.”

“I can’t tell you for certain what the outcome of this will be. Some wake up from worser injuries perfectly fine while others don’t make it from lesser.. everybody is different.” He tells them, “For now, she’s on a ventilator but things can change very quickly. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

The team nods and the doctor sends them a sad smile before walking away.

“You should go and sit with her.” Dave says to Aaron, who stares at her necklace in his hands while he processes what the doctor had just told them. “We’ll all take turns.” He smiles.

“Yeah.” Aaron says softly, “You’ll let me know when Reid wakes up?” He directs to Morgan, who nods.

“Yeah.” The agent says, quickly wiping a tear from his face. Aaron nods and walks away towards the ICU, once he’s through the double doors JJ hits the seat and sobs, a hand over her mouth as she tries to muffle it. Dave moves to sit next to her instantly, pulling her into his chest.

“Shhh,” He tries to soothe, “It's okay.” He whispers, rubbing a hand down her back. He feels JJ shake her head against him and he can’t do anything for her but swallow the lump in his throat and try and soothe her.

“It’s not fair,” She cries into his chest. Rossi nods.

“I know.” He whispers, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” JJ cries, “She’s.. She could die.”

Rossi tries to think of a reassuring reply but he has none, he himself full of fear for what could happen to Emily. The thought of losing her made him feel sick.

Derek looks away from the scene and heads towards Reid’s room just behind Garcia, who’s wiping her tears.

“How do we tell him?” She whispers as they stare at Reid, “He’ll be up soon and you know he’ll ask for her.”

“We tell him the truth.” Morgan sighs, sitting at the bedside and grabbing the young doctors hand.

“Emily is like a sister to him, this will break him.” Garcia says. Morgan nods and clenches his jaw to stop himself from crying.

“If Emily dies-” Morgan stops, and looks to his best friend, “Hotch is never going to forgive me.”

“Of course he will.” Penelope tells him, “You heard him, Derek. This isn't your fault.”

“Do you think he’ll still feel that way in a few days? If she dies?”

“She wont die.” Penelope says as she messes with the covers on the bed, “She can’t.”

“You heard what the doctor said-”

“He said he didn’t know. Not for sure.” Penelope tells him, “And until someone tells me for sure that she won’t make it, I’m choosing to believe that she will.”

The two wait in silence after that, watching and waiting for Spencer to wake up.

-

The first thing Hotch notices as he walks into the room is the sound of the ventilator as it pumps air into her lungs. It’s deafening. He walks further into the room slowly, the necklace in his hand as he flexes it into a first tightly, swallowing. Reaching her, his heart breaks at the sight. Her face is deathly pale, the rise and fall of her chest is steady but the sound of the machine breathing for her outshines the joy of seeing her breathing at all. The gash on her temple that has been stitched up makes him inhale shakily and as he takes a seat and exhales, he can’t stop the tears that roll down his face. The room is dark, apart from the light coming in from the corridors. He places his hand in hers as he rests his elbows on the bed, looking at her he gently places her hand to his lips, closing his eyes. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispers, opening his eyes to look at her, “Please.”

-

The rest of the team minus Morgan and Spencer head into the room not ten minutes later. Hotch looks to the door as footsteps echo in the room. He sends a sad smile to his team, who smile back in the same manner, each one of them unable to really look at Emily, lay there while a machine pumps oxygen into her.

“Have you eaten?” Rossi asks him softly, holding up a sandwich he’d gotten from the cafeteria.

“I’m not hungry.” Hotch mumbles, looking away from his friends eye’s and back to Emily.

“You should eat something, Hotch.” JJ tells him gently, taking a seat opposite him, looking down at her best friend and back up to him, “If we let you starve she’d never let us live it down.” She tries to joke, lighten the mood slightly and it works, a small chuckle leaves Hotch’s mouth, a shake off his head as she grins softly. “The sandwiches are quite nice, not as stale as the one’s back at our local hospital.” She laughs, passing him the sandwich. He takes it with a smile and nods.

“The doctor wants to know about transporting her there.” Garcia say’s quietly, taking a seat next to Hotch, looking at her friend she smiles sadly, “She’s stable enough for the drive, and they thought we’d all like to be back home.”

“It would have to be tomorrow morning, so I’ve booked a hotel for us all tonight.” Rossi tells him, “It’s up to you, about whether we go.”

Hotch looks at him, back at Emily and then Rossi again.

“Wha-“ He says, before cleaning his throat, “What do you think?” He asks the members of the team in the room.

“I think if the worse happens, she should be at home. We all should.” JJ tells him, “Jack will want to see her, as will her mother, I imagine.”

“Jack can’t see her like this.” Hotch says quietly. Garcia places a soft hand on his arm and he turns.

“If you don’t let him say goodbye-“ She stops, refusing to believe that they have to say goodbye to her. That she’ll never wake up. “He loves her, Hotch. Give him the option to see her.”

“Okay.” He whispers, looking back to Emily, listening to the sound of the ventilator as her chest moves. He smiles sadly when he spots JJ placing her hand on Emily’s cheek, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, before grabbing her hand.

Rossi takes a seat next to JJ and stares at the heart monitor, blinking at every beep that tells him she’s still there. Still alive.

“Eat your sandwich.” He tells Hotch without even looking at him, “She’ll kill us if you don’t eat.”

Hotch mumbles something under his breath, before smirking at his friend and placing a piece of it in his mouth.

“Better than you thought, right?” JJ smiles, Hotch laughs.

“Much.” He tells her.

-

Derek shifts in his seat when Spencer mumbles something, pulling him from his mind.

“Hey.” Morgan smiles, before placing a soft kiss on the man’s hand. “Welcome back.”

“Hi..” He says, his throat dry. Morgan grabs the cup of water from the side and places the straw at the younger man’s lips, smiling as he takes a few gulps. “What happened?” He asks as Morgan takes the cup from his lips.

“You had surgery but you’re fine.” Morgan smiles, “Two weeks medical leave and some physical therapy and you should be back to normal.”

“And Emily? Is she ok?” Spencer asks, his eyes pleading for Morgan to tell him, Yes. She’s fine. Resting for now. Should be awake soon. But the silence his boyfriend gives him tells him he’s about to get the exact opposite.

“Derek.” Spencer says, “Is she okay?”

Morgan looks at him, grabbing his hand and stroking his cheek with the other, before shaking his head.

“She’s on a ventilator.” Morgan tells him, “They’re not sure if she’s going to wake up. She can’t breathe on her own.”

Spencer closes his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek that Morgan wipes away.

“This is my fault.” Spencer says, his voice breaking. Morgan sits on the bed and grabs his chin gently, making Reid look at him, before shaking his head.

“This is not your fault, okay?” Morgan tells him, “You were bleeding internally, it is not your fault. She wouldn’t blame you. She doesn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head, “I made her switch seats with me, before we left.” He says, fresh tears falling, “She was sitting behind JJ, but I-“ He stops, shaking his head, “I didn’t have any sunglasses and so I asked her to switch because the sun was giving me a headache.” Spencer tells him, “It should have been me. This isn’t- It should be me.” Spencer says, before he starts to cry, the reality of the situation coming down on him.

Morgan places his hands on his boyfriend's cheeks and shakes his head.

“We had no way of knowing what would happen.” He tells him, “The truck came out of nowhere and ran a red light.”

“She shouldn’t-,” Spencer starts, but Morgan shakes his head.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Derek tells him, “If anyone is at blame it’s me and the truck driver.”

“You?” Spencer questions quietly, staring into his eyes sadly.

“I should have been the truck. Should have-,”

“You couldn’t have predicted that the truck would run the light.. our light was green, you-,” Spencer says to him, “If it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t yours either.”

“Okay.” Derek accepts, before placing a soft kiss on the younger man’s head.

“I’ll go and tell everyone you’re awake, I’m sure they’re after some good news.”

“Okay.” Spencer whispers, “Will you tell Hotch I want to speak to him?”

“Sure.” Derek smiles, before standing, looking back one more time and smiling, before leaving the room.

He stands at the door of the room Emily is in for a few moments that feel like forever, before he gently knocks and opens it.

As he steps into the room all eyes are on him and he gives them a nod, before swallowing and taking a deep breath.

“Reid is awake.” He tells them, looking anywhere but at Emily. He can’t. He blames himself far too much to even glance at her. The sound of the ventilator making him want to throw up.

“He is?” Garcia smiles, before her smile drops as she realises he has probably just found out about Emily. His confidant, his sister, his protector. “How is he?”

“He..” Derek says, before shaking his head, “He’s okay, physically, but.. He’s heartbroken about… about Em.”

Everyone stays silent as they look to the floor, all their heart shattering that little bit more at their youngest agents' pain.

“Hotch..” Morgan says gently, the man looks at him, “He wants to talk to you.” Derek tells him.

“He does?” He questions, not accepting it.

Morgan nods, “I can tell him you’ll see him tomorrow if you want to stay here..”

“No I erm.. I’ll come and see him later.” Hotch tells him, still a little shocked by his request.

Derek nods and looks to the floor, before taking a breath and looking at Emily. He exhales and looks away just as quickly.

“Come on,” Rossi says, standing and heading towards the door, “I could do with some good news right now.”

“Yeah.” JJ breathes out, placing a soft kiss on Emily’s hand before standing.

“We’ll be right back.” Garcia says, squeezing Hotch’s arm, the unit chief nods and gives them a small smile as they leave the room.

As the door closes behind them, he looks back at her and runs his thumb over her cheek gently.

“I don’t know if you can hear me.” He says softly, “But i’m asking you to fight anyway. Fight. And come back to us. To me.” He tells her, “You promised me forever so you don’t get back out of that agreement.” He smiles at her, tears rolling down his cheek. “Please, please come back to me.”

Hotch leans back on his chair, his hand still wrapped in her limp one and he takes a deep breath, smiling as he remembers their morning not too long ago.

He’d woken up first, the light from the window in her bedroom piercing through, making him squint slightly as he opens his eyes. He rolled onto his side and smiled at the sight of a still sleeping Emily Prentiss, lay on her front, her head turned towards him, one hand tucked underneath her, the other covering her face slightly. He leaned his cheek against his hand as he lifted his head up, the other hand running a pattern over her exposed bare back, the covers lowering during the night. As his fingers softly traced her back he smiled, looking at her.

“Stop staring at me.” She mumbled, her eyes still closed but a small smirk on her face. “it’s off putting.”

Hotch laughed at that, which made her open her eyes and stare right back at him.

“Good morning.” He’d said, a grin on his face.

“Hmm.” She’d replied, “If you’ve woken me up before eight on a Saturday morning you’ll be spending the next few alone.”

“Good thing it’s just past nine then.” He told her, she smiled as he spoke to her, the feeling of his fingers on her back sending her right back into a slumber.

“You really should have black out curtains in this room. It’s in direct sunlight and it’s very off putting.” He told her, a clever grin on his face as he uses her words. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“It’s a new apartment, forgive me for not having the curtains up.” She joked, rubbing her hand over her face before sighing.

Hotch lifted his hand from her back and to her face, gently pushing some hairs from her face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her lips, smiling slightly when her hand found his cheek.

“Good morning.” She finally greeted, whispering it against his lips that were inches from hers. He caught them in another kiss which she smiled into. She’d lifted her body up and over him, straddling him as she looked down at his face. His hands rested on each side of her face, his thumbs running gently across her cheeks. Bending down, she melted her body into his, gently crashing her lips onto his.

The sound of his phone broke the moment and she laughed into their kiss and he groaned in annoyance. He grabbed the phone from her side table.

“Hotchner,” He said, rolling his eyes. Emily laughed silently, placing stray kisses across his jaw, neck and shoulder blades, enjoying the gentle way his fingers traced her back.

“It’s a saturday.” He said to whoever was on the phone. “Fine.” He told them a few moments later.

Emily groaned and rested her head on his shoulder before sitting up straight, legs still straddling him.

“Anyone would think the place would burn down without you.” She’d complained, he laughed.

“Maybe it will.”

Emily looked at him and ran a hand up his chest.

“How long will you be?” She asked him, he huffed a breath.

“Not long, I hope.” He told her, “Just some paperwork.”

Emily nodded and lay herself down on him, her chest rested on top of his.

“You’re only Jack free for another twenty four hours.” She whispered, “If you hurry up we can still make the most of it.” Her lips meet his and he runs a hand down her back.

“Noted.” He told her as she pulled away, a little grin on her face. “I’ll be two hours, tops.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She nodded, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

They’d stood up and she’d made the coffee while he got ready to go into the office. He met her in her kitchen and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her front and placing a kiss into her neck.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Just making the most of it in case I get dragged into a full day.” He told her, she leant back into him and squealed when he turned her to face him, his lips on hers as soon as she was facing him.

“I love you.” He told her when he pulled away, she’d smiled.

“I love you too.” She’d told him, “Now go.” She laughed, passing him his coffee. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Good.” He smiled, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Hotchner,” She’d said, her lips inches from him, “Forever.” She smiled, placing a quick kiss on his lips before taping his ass and laughing, walking away.

“Lock the door, please.” She’d called as she walked into the living room.

Hotch spent the day with a smile on his face and was back in her arms two hours later.

-

Hotch jumped slightly when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Rossi said, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” Hotch mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as his mind replays the memory, his heart shattering just that little more at the thought that they may never have that again. That he might never get to hold her again, kiss her again..

“Reid‘s still asking for you.”

“Yeah?” Hotch asks, still unsure about why the young man is asking for him.

“Yep.” Rossi nods, taking a seat opposite him at the bedside, “Go. I’ll stay here. Visiting hours are over soon.”

Hotch stares at Emily, before nodding, knowing she would want him to be there for Reid right now. Right now and alway, just like she would be. The man stands and heads out of the room, placing his hands in his pockets as he walks to the room Reid is in.

Standing outside it, he takes a few breaths before entering.

“Hey.” He says, “How’re you feeling?” Hotch asks Reid, who looks at him with guilt written all over his face and Hotch starts to think he doesn’t have it in him to comfort the young agent right now.

“We’ll leave you to it.” JJ says, patting Morgan on the back in a hint to stand up.

“I’ll be right outside.” Morgan tells Spencer, who nods.

Once the room is just the two of them, Hotch heads further into the room and stands.

“It’s good to see you awake.” Hotch tells him.

“Yeah.” Reid says quietly, “I need to tell you something.” He says, and Hotch nods, remaining calm and collected.

“Okay.” He says, preparing for whatever he is about to hear.

“It’s about the crash.” Spencer tells him, looking at his boss, “About Emily..”

“Reid..” Hotch starts, not in the mood to hear another person who isn’t at blame to tell him how it’s their fault the woman he loves could die.

“No, Hotch..” Reid tells him, “I know it’s not my fault.. the crash, I mean..”

Hotch looks at him, confusion on his face and Reid clears his throat and tells himself to not cry. He can’t cry. This isn’t about you.

“She..she should have been fine.” Reid tells him, “I made her switch seats with me, before we left the station.”

“What-“ Aaron tries to say but the young man shakes his head and carries on.

“The only reason she’s on a ventilator and..” He stops, “It should have been me, Hotch. And i’m sorry that it wasn’t. i’m sorry that it’s her when it shouldn’t have been.” Reid tells him, a soft cry at the end of his sentence.

Hotch swallows the lump in his throat at he pain in Reid’s voice and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed.

“No matter what you did or didn’t do, no matter who sat where. This is not your fault, Spencer.”

“How can you say that… if I had just gotten in the car and dealt with the headache then-“

“Then it could have been you, I know. I’ve ran through this a million times, Spencer. But nothing can change what happened. There is no point blaming yourself. It can’t be changed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Hotch tells him, eyes directly on his. “Nothing. Okay?”

Reid nods slowly, before wiping the tears he’d shed and grabbing his bosses hand.

“I really am sorry about Emily..”

“Me too.” Hotch said, squeezing his hand and standing, “When you’re up for it, you should sit with her.”

“Are we going home tomorrow? Rossi said something..”

“Yeah.” Aaron tells him, “We all thought it would be best if we were all back home incase-“ He doesn’t finish the sentence. He can’t. But Reid gets it.

“She’d like that.” Spencer smiles.

-

Once out of the room, Hotch walks a few steps before dipping down a hall and leaning against the wall, taking a few deep breaths while he closes his eyes.

He feels Rossi next to him, and the man just stands there, ready to be there for whatever he needs.

“The hotel is just a few miles away. We can come back first thing in the morning and get her transported to D.C.” Rossi tells him. Hotch nods in understanding, staring at the wall.

“She can’t die, Dave.” Hotch says brokenly, “I..”

“I know.” The older man says softly.

“I can’t do this without her. I can’t lose another person I love. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” Rossi tells him, “I know how much you love her.”

“This can’t be happening.” Hotch says, shaking his head, “How can this be happening?”

“Life is cruel.”

Hotch snots and looks to the floor, “You can say that again.”

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that everything will be okay, because there is a very large possibility that it won’t be.” Rossi tells him, “But I can tell you that I’m here for you. And Jack.”

“Thank you.” Hotch whispers, “I keep thinking about how I’m going to tell him this. He really cares about her, Dave. They have this incredible bond..” Hotch smiles at the memory of the two of them, “He can’t lose anyone else. He’s lost so much and he’s only six.”

“You’re doing the right thing.. in giving him the opportunity to say goodbye. Giving him some closure.”

“Do you think this is it?” Hotch asks, looking at his friend, “Do you think we’ve lost her?”

“I think that the fact she’s still fighting means something.” Rossi tells him, “But.. she’s been through a lot. Sometimes it’s knowing when enough is enough, and letting go.”

Hotch turns away and looks to the wall.

“Say goodbye, I’ll meet you out front and we’ll head to the hotel. You should get some rest.”

“Yeah..” He whispers, leaning off the wall and forcing himself to take the steps to the room she’s in.

The sound of the ventilator breathing for her will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (5)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of drugs + drugs affecting health, mentions of a hospital-like setting, jeno being an ass, mentions of violence, oppression of women (kinda)

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 4k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

19 April

You felt your eyelids heaving down on you as you forced your eyes open, bright light flooding to your pupils immediately making them dilate, and close your eyes again. There was numbness to your body, but you could feel the weakness of your heart as you opened your eyes once again, trying to sit up from where you were. 

A figure came into your view however, pushing you gently back down against the softness of the bed. “It’s good you’re awake,” you recognized the raspy voice as Mark’s, his face coming into your vision as your head hit in the pillow again. “Don’t try to get up, though, just stay there.” You glanced down at your hand, an IV was taped down against your skin, and your eyes moved past Mark, looking around at the hospital-like room. Yet, it didn’t quite looked like a hospital. “You’re in the hospital wing,” he said, gaining your attention as he read your mind. “You were—uh, I’m sure you know, but you were drugged. And—um, you kinda overdosed.”

You opened your mouth in a slight ‘o’ formation, the thoughts not fully going through your brain until they came rushing at you full speed, the memories of what had happened in that red room coming back to you in less than a second. You shot up, this time, your head whipping over to where Mark was now trying to convince you to lay down again. “Jisung! Where is he?! Where’s my Jisung?!”

You tried to move yourself off the bed, your body only meeting against the man’s hands as your mind didn’t think of anything other than your brother. Struggling against him, he caught your legs as you attempted to swing them off, pulling them back onto the bed. My brother who took a bullet for me. “Where is he?!” You screeched, your ears not registering anything that he was trying to tell you, your hands clawing at his shirt as you remembered it all: his side-step, the blood, his innocent face. “What’d you do with him?! What did you fucking do with him?!”

“Y/N! He’s fine! He’s fine!” Mark was screaming back at you, his heart slowing down as he saw tears welling up in your eyes at his words, your movements slowing down. “He’s fine. Jisung’s fine. He’s okay, he’s okay.” You took a few deep breaths, your hands removing themselves from the fabric of his shirt, allowing you to calm down.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the room right next to this one, okay? He’s doing well, the doctors were able to get through the surgery successfully. He’s okay now, he’s not hurt anymore.” Mark’s voice was soothing, and he watched as you sobbed silently, not even caring that you were letting your emotions out in front of another. “Hey—he’s fine, he’s okay. He’s as jolly as an apple pie!” You weren’t really sure why he used such an analogy, but it seemed to reassure you a little as you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears messily.

“I want to see him,” you said, your voice coming out more broken than you expected it to. “Can I see him? Is it okay for me to see him?”

“Yeah, of course you can—if you think you can walk there. Or, I can go get a wheelchair, though that might take a while since the nurses are kinda annoying and they don’t really—” You swung your legs off the bed, your feet meeting the ground as you grabbed onto the mattress for support at first, your head dizzying for a brief moment as Mark looked at you incredulously: like you had just juggled with fire. “Or—not, I guess.” He added, rolling the IV tubing alongside you, allowing you to grab onto it.

“I’m fine,” you said, more to yourself than to him. You were still feeling like you were out of this world, and your body was probably still being highly affected by the drugs that were laced into your bloodstream. Though, you felt better now that you weren’t being coerced into getting more injected into your veins. “I’m fine. I just need to see him.”

Mark led you out of the room slowly, not helping you walk as you blatantly refused him, telling him over and over again that you were okay. He listened however, watching you as you took steps towards the room that Jisung was currently in. You didn’t even bother knocking, the door sliding open with a swipe as you opened it, the room being empty of everyone except your brother. There was a massive amount of equipment, much more than the amount that was in the room you were in as you walked to the side of the bed, your eyes falling on the large bandage across his chest. 

You took a shaky seat on the small stool beside the bed, not wanting to wake him up from his slumber but also wanting to hear his voice again. Sighing, you let a hand graze over the top of his head, giving an endearing stroke to his soft hair. “Oh Jisung,” you whispered, brushing his bangs away from his forehead, stopping momentarily as you felt him stir. “Sungie?”

The boy’s eyes fluttered open in slow intervals, blinking carefully as he turned his head to face you, his eyes falling on your devastated figure. “Y/N...” He let out a small whisper of a breath, one that he almost choked on as he tried to get a good look at himself. “I—I got shot, didn’t I?” He asked matter-of-factly, making you scrunch your face up as you tried not to let the tears out.

You remembered it, clear as day as he was in front of you in less than a flash, falling in the same fashion as you heart screamed out. As much as you wanted to kill the boy for being all brave, you were more than glad that he was able to survive, especially since it had been a fatal shoot to his heart. “Yeah, you dumbass,” you managed to get out, your voice cracking in the slight. “You just had to put on the brave act, didn’t you?”

Jisung laid back down against the pillow, offering you a soft smile that calmed your nerves. “It wasn’t an act, you know,” his voice was hoarse as he spoke, but his look was still the same, staring up at the blank ceiling. “It kinda hurt...and it still does. What about you though?” He tilted his head towards the drip beside you, standing tall as it was still connected to your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Er—well, I overdosed.”

Being immersed in the chat you were having with your recovering brother, the two of you didn’t seem to notice the door open slowly; it was Jeno, about to check on his...brother-in-law? To be honest, Jeno didn’t even know what to call Jisung, considering he wasn’t actually married to you and well—he didn’t even know if the wedding would be happening anymore. His thoughts clouded him for a brief second, just a second before he heard you let out a tumble of laughter. His eyes trained on you as you reached over Jisung’s bed, moving to ruffle his hair violently with a huge smile plastered to your face: a smile, a real smile. It looks good on her. He shook his head, what? 

“You know you can walk inside, right?” There was a voice in his ear, startling Jeno as he meant to take a step forward, silently cursing from the sudden sound. Mark leaned against the doorway, looking from the two siblings and then back to Jeno. “Why? You don’t wanna intrude? You’re already watching them from the doorway like some creep, might as well go inside while you’re at it.”

“Shut up,” his snapback was weak, eyes falling back on your figure as gave Jisung’s hand a squeeze, your smile never fading from your lips as you did so. Your head tilted towards the door in a natural motion, your curved lips retaining their normal line as your eyes fell on Jeno and Mark. Jeno went frozen at the sight of your smile disappearing as fast as it appeared, cursing to himself. “Fuck...”

He wasn’t sure why he liked it so much, but that was probably the most beautiful you had looked in front of him, away from the way you always had snarky remarks and scowls in your face in front of him. You didn’t have your usual disgusted look, but it went back to its tired complexion as you stood up from Jisung’s bed, loosening your hand from the now drifting boy.

“Don’t tell me you like her now,” Mark continued, his voice much lower in Jeno’s ear now. “Kind of a bad time, you know. Considering her brother just got—shot, you know. Shot by your brother.”

Jeno gave him a sharp look. “He’s your brother too.”

“Yeah sure, but I’m not the one marrying her,” he gestured to you, shrugging shortly before stepping back. “You might want to apologize before you try something, Jeno. Or it’ll just backfire.” And with those words, and a ��it’s not my fault’ from Jeno, he walked down the hallway of the hospital wing, leaving the area.

Mark’s words held some truth—that being his chance with you would backfire before he even tried—but he couldn’t just try anymore, either. Trying was for first times, for the first meeting perhaps, first word or first glance. But what was this, first life-threatening experience?

But there was something different that he felt went he saw you smiling and laughing and talking like that, something that told him that maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. Maybe he shouldn’t have declined you before he knew you. Maybe he shouldn’t have spoken back to you when you hadn’t even opened your mouth.

Jeno had seen the scars of punctures in your arm; there were way more than there should’ve been in a day. The doctor had said that you were somewhat tolerant, probably from training that you had done to become resistant to drugs, but the way your body was crumpled without life made him curl his fists for the brother that had given it to you in the first place. That was...brother number two, he thought. One out of the two that wanted his fiancee.

And then there was the other one, the one that had spat in his face and told him that you weren’t Jeno’s, but his. The one that had yanked the chain around your neck so hard that it left a dark scar on the back, and had dropped it on the floor with a sickening clang. There was no ugly jewelry around your neck any longer, and for some reason, it felt empty to him.

He hoped, as you walked out of the room without a second glance at him, that perhaps eventually, that ring could be replaced: replaced from hanging against your chest to fastened around your left ring finger. Maybe even sworn as his wife.

20 April

You had been released from the room in the hospital wing to go to your own room, even though you would’ve rather stayed beside your brother instead of on another floor of the palace. But you were sent back anyway, told that you could visit anytime that you wanted to. However, it didn’t occur to you that the palace was—massive, not until you had to navigate your way to Jisung’s room.

It was in the mid-afternoon when you had run into the same silver-haired man that had drugged you a day before. Except he didn’t look the same, his hair was a darkened shade of brown and his face was—apologetic. He introduced himself to you again, giving you a long bow and calling himself Donghyuck, before moving away from you, not sparing you a glance as you continued down your path. He didn’t give you much of an explanation, and for a second you wouldn’t thought he was a look alike if he hadn’t directly apologized for—well, injecting deadly substances in both you and Jisung. Only then you had realized that you were in the west wing.

Yet it didn’t seem to hit you until you stopped in front of a room that had a slightly open door, the bed looking identical to the one in your room. It smelled of a familiar scent, however, one that you couldn’t quite pinpoint as you moved to take a step inside. It was—oddly inviting, but thankfully you had hesitated, as the bathroom door opened shortly after that.

You took in a sharp breath as your eyes roamed over the emerging figure of the blond boy, a towel drying out the wetness in his hair as he walked out with only another towel laying low at his hips. There was still water dripping from his heavy toned body, making the skin glisten as he moved to the dresser on the other side of the bed. The movement made you realize what you were doing as you let out a small squeak to seeing his hand grasp the end of the towel, and he whipped his head over at the sound at the exact same time, his eyes falling on your huge ones.

You turned around as quickly as you could, pressing your back against the wall with your heart beating out of your chest. God, why did I stay? I should’ve just left. He saw me, didn’t he? Fuck, I better just run for it now. But you couldn’t move, your feet were planted on the ground without even a little ability to step forward and away, and worse of all was—his body was still on your mind. Jeno hadn’t shown off his body before, especially not those arms that you just saw being involuntarily flexed as he dried his hair. It did things to you—things that shouldn’t really be happening. You still hate him...right?

“Y/N?”

His voice was soft, a sort of bittersweet feeling as he peeked out from his room, his dark eyes resting upon your rising and falling chest. Your name spilling from his mouth was—nice, different than what the usual ‘Park’ sounded like a harsh, and usually reluctant call for you. You felt yourself heating up in embarrassment as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didn’t give away emotions. Well, considering from the way you looked like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, he probably could sense how you were feeling.

“Um—hi,” you scratched at your head, your eyes flitting down to where the towel was still hanged at his hips and immediately bringing them back up, gulping as you focused on his face instead. “Yeah, um, I—am...lost. Yeah, lost. I was, uh, trying to get to the hospital wing.”

He blinked, as if you had said something that he didn’t expect you to say. Hopefully he hadn’t realized the way you were very affected by his body, but a small smile ghosted over his face, surprising you. “I can take you there, but I gotta get dressed first. Do you want to come inside?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he smiling like that?! “Um, yeah, okay. Sure, yeah.” You shut your mouth before you could allow yourself to stutter over your words any longer. He moved the door open a little more, his body lightly brushing past you as you made your way inside. 

The door shut with a quiet thud as you walked in further, trying to seem interested in the displays of jewelry on his bedside table. You could’ve sworn you heard him let out a chuckle as he moved back to his dresser, his back facing you as he opened one of them. Taking a quick glance, your eyes grazed across the ink on his back, making you gasp louder than you expected yourself to. Jeno turned his head, facing your shocked expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice, quick enough as you looked away, “I just—didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“You like it?”

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he let his hand graze over his left side, touching the ends of the thorns lacing over his back. They were large, thick and filling over the entirety of his left back, leading to the side of his hip. It intrigued you to know how far it actually lead, if it decorated his thigh just in the same fashion. “Do you like the tattoo? It’s...a few days old. I got it right before you came here.” You weren’t sure why he was telling you that, was the tattoo meant for you?

“Y-Yeah, it’s nice,” was all you could get out, not being able to look away from his body now. To him, it seemed like all that confidence from literally just two, maybe one day ago had been thrown out the window to absolutely nothing, leaving you so flustered in front of him. For some reason, he wanted to coo at how innocent you looked. 

Wait, why would I do that? Your fingers were playing at the hem of your shirt, nervously picking at the threads that were adorning the edges, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from the motion. But...she looks so cute right now. Her lips look so—

“So I met Donghyuck,” you blurted out, trying to ease away the silence as you watched his eyes train up to yours again, his eyebrows narrowing. “Oh, uh, I mean quite literally, he didn’t try to kill me this time. So, um, don’t worry about that.” Your voice faded near the end, wondering if he would even care about it anyway. “Yeah, um, I’ll just, turn around.”

Jeno knew that Donghyuck had been coerced into helping Taeyong, especially from the way he had begged for mercy when he got a hold of him later, confessing what truly happened. Mark had convinced him to let him go, telling him that locking up Taeyong in the dungeons for a bit should clear up the issue instead of doing so the young one, and he brought him back to the hospital wing in one piece. Well, he wasn’t completely ecstatic from the way he had decided to drug you so hard that you overdosed, but he couldn’t quite control himself. Taeyong had gotten him addicted as well, using it as a bait to help him in his plans.

But he didn’t expect to see what he saw when he looked back over at the surveillance footage, watching his younger brother take your chin into his own grasp and kiss you so hungrily with a type of fever that he hadn’t seen from him before. He seemed like another person when he taunted you with his teasing words, calling you pet names and rubbing your skin, but then injecting you with heroin and watching you take it all at once. And from all of that, all he could get from it was...possessiveness.

With a few steps he was standing in front of you, his gaze focusing on your wide eyes as you felt your heart jump again, probably higher than it had before. “Y/N,” he sounded out, clicking his tongue pointedly. “Do you...hate me?” 

You weren’t expecting that. “I,” you looked around hesitatingly, not sure what answer he wanted. Is this some kind of quiz? Pop quiz, I guess? Mind game? Right? He wants me to say yes, right? I don’t get it. “...Don’t hate you.” Maybe you disliked his earlier snarky remarks, but you couldn’t quite say that you hated him...right? He did come to save me, though...kinda.

“Do you want to marry me?” He asked with a hint of desperation, perhaps a hint that you didn’t quite notice. He took a step forward, making your heart now lurch into your throat. Wow, this man was really rendering you breathless right now. “Right now?”

“Now?!”

“No, no, I mean like—in this moment like right now. Not from the shitty way I treated you before, I mean like right now. Right here, in my bedroom. You didn’t want to marry me before, I...know that, and neither did I. But I want to know, do you want to marry me now?” He let out a breath after his short ramble, and you blinked, not sure how to respond.

There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you want to tell him yes a hundred times over, to wipe that look off his face and replace it with that same smile you saw a few minutes ago. But there was also the entire rest of your heart reminding you of how he viewed you earlier, as nothing but a rival, a girl, a competitor. 

“How am I supposed to answer that?” You asked shortly, tucking half your bottom lip under your teeth making a sucking sound. For some reason, you didn’t notice how it affected Jeno, however, because his eyes were now fixated on your lips. “What if I asked you whether you want to marry me? We were both forced into it—”

He cut you off expertly, holding the nape of your neck as his lips pressed down against yours, hard. You stumbled back from his sudden attack, your lower back hitting the edge of the mattress as you attempted to keep up with his pace. Hands went against his bare chest, pressed back against the warm skin as he leaned impossibly closer, sucking slowly on your lip.

His tongue explored into your mouth first, taking you aback as you tried not to stumble back any further, pushing him back as hard as you could. He was stronger, devouring your lips as if he was a man of pure hunger, one that had been deprived of food for so long. And that’s when it hit him, when he felt the skin of your palms graze over his chest, it was so...wrong.

“No,” he pulled back, his lips bruised from how hard he had crashed them against yours. He scanned you: your confused expression, your swollen lips, your messy hair. You took a step forward, reaching out to him, maybe with a certain hope but he moved back from your touch, shaking his head repeatedly. “No, I can’t do this. I can’t...this isn’t fucking right!”

“Jeno—”

“Y-You,” he gestured to you, a scoff adorning his once soft voice as he felt fire course through his veins. “You’re just a fucking Park. Another fucking useless girl—shit! I’m not supposed to like some bitch I’m forced to marry, what the fuck?!” He seemed like he was talking more to himself than to you, but it made your heart drop to your feet, lower that you thought was possible as his face scrunched in disgust.

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you couldn’t help but feel so utterly stupid, what else could you have expected from someone like him? So careless, so judgemental; he was such a Lee. But why did it hurt? It shouldn’t hurt. It’s not supposed to hurt. I shouldn’t have let him in.

I can’t believe I let him kiss me. “I’ve never met someone so fucking selfish as you, Lee Jeno.” you wished you couldn’t sounded stronger, but it was just a tang of anger along with hurt, so much hurt. His bright eyes flashed over yours, softening so slightly when he saw the tears welling in them. “I hope you realize one day that maybe I don’t want to fucking be here, either. I don’t want to be somewhere I’m clearly not not wanted, especially not by the man that’s supposed to love me.”

“I—”

“Save it,” you turned away from his wiping the tears messily off your face, feeling stupid for letting them fall in the first place. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry. Don’t you fucking worry, Lee. I’m leaving, and hopefully not coming back.”

previous | next

hi..please don’t cry. i mean...i didn’t kill jisung?!?! hehe, love you guys ♡

[anxietysroomsupport]

Hypermobile anon here. First, thank you so much. It's just nice to know there's someone here for me. And to give a little more info, I have a serious problem where if I'm not currently in pain. I don't remember how bad it was. I know everybody does this, but my brain literally checked out as I was going to bed recently and I fell on the floor. I nearly forgot to tell my physical therapist.about it because it didn't really hurt. So, I can't do the pain scale very well, and I never remember (1/2)

(2/2) It just makes it sort of hard for pain relief when I don't know I'm going to need it and don't have the energy when I do. Also, on the vitamin subject, I know that I've had vitamin d issues before (bad heat exhaustion and allergy scares = going outside less), bad enough that I was close to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm not sure about the others, but I do know I'm not amazing healthy, so? I take calcium pills for the vitamin d, though. Again, thank you guys for all your help.

.

We just got a bill from my PT place that says we owe money that we can't pay. They told us up front how much it would be with our insurance, and my mom's been paying each time, but it says we owe 177 dollars. Sure, it's not a lot, but we're not rich and trying to send a sibling to college. If we can't get this sorted out. I can't just not go. 10 exercises I can do at home and 5 appointments is not enough to help a chronic disorder. I cant focus and I have practice in 30 mins. -Hypermobility anon

Same day but later when I'm feeling a little better (my director was very supportive though so that's nice), I'd seen the letter and heard my parents talking a bit, but my mom told be as we got to school for rehearsal about PT. I got upset, and I felt bad because I could tell she felt bad because she didn't expect me to be upset, and in the heat of the moment I said "chronic illness" in front of my mom for the first time. She loudly (not quite yelling) (1/?) - Hypermobility anon

said to me "That is the most self-pitying thing I've ever heard. Chronic illnesses are like cancer". Sure, I probably should've said disorder and not illness, but I'm scientifically right. Then I said "It is, it's chronic pain, I am always in pain" and she said "Well then clearly PT isn't helping anyway" - I??? When I went in after 15 minutes after another girl, since we were both there for an hour and a half, I decided to stop trying too much to hide my crying (useful masks) (2/?) -HSD anon

since the other girl was in the hall to eat, and when I managed to explain to the director, she was understanding and nice, and when I said chronic, she said that I should never have to live with that, especially at my age. And when I mentioned not being able to sing at that moment from my crying, she pointed out how I was singing an empowering song that was about standing against the bad stuff in life, and I was perfect for it. I know my mom was just mad, but it just drained me.

Sorry I keep sending asks so often, I just feel like telling someone this. I decided to put 'zebra' in my bio. It's a thing that people with EDS and HSD sometimes like to call themselves. I like it, so even though I just have my name and pronouns, plus a random joke, in my bio, I added it. It just feels like a step in the right direction to remembering that I don't need google to tell me I'm dealing with this every 5 minutes. Accepting it, I guess. :) -HSD anon

.

My sleep schedule just keeps getting worse and I think it's my ADHD combined busy days and pain but I just never want to sleep anymore. I can't, I don't want to, and it hurts physically and mentally to just lie there and see if I can fall asleep. 80% sure my circadian rhythm changed to sleep at about 2 am but I get up at 7 and have a chronic disorder that's getting worse because of this I *need sleep*. And I'm so scared I'll mess up, want to make a side blog for it but want to make one (1/2)

for something happy first because I always figured that if I had side blogs they would be ask blogs or for fandoms or whatever. But I got a little better at not caring what other people think, so I haven't really needed one for fandom. But I looked through the tag and felt so comforted by some of the stuff that I just think it would help me. Maybe I'm just extra bad tonight because I went outside but also talked about it a fair amount with a friend I hadn't seen recently who didn't know. -HSD

.

I wanna talk to my physical therapist about hip braces because I tried a knee one we have and it honestly helps, but my hips are worst so I wanna see if it would help, but they're pretty expensive. It's hard to find dual hip braces, from what I've seen in my research, and even though one more than the other, both cause me issues. Idk, I'm conflicted, because it could help but is it worth all the effort? Also, even if it's under clothing it's still physical evidence (1/2) -HSD anon

(2/2) of my "invisible" disorder. Also, stopping exercises for a few days because of not feeling well from my covid shot reminded me of just how much time I spend on them, so it's another thing to deal with this. . . Idk, sometimes I just wonder if it would be better to just deal with it. I still have pain anyway, though it might be a little better. Less often, maybe? I don't really remember. It's not stressing at the front of my mind all the time, but the back of it. I'm just conflicted. -HSD

.

HSD anon here, idk if I mentioned it in an ask already, but recently I had a small breakdown because I was watching something where a character was in a car accident, as was trying to push through having trouble walking even with a hip brace. After a minute, I registered it and just thought "That could be my future". My joints had already been acting up and then they got worse, so I don't know if it was cause and effect? But I don't exactly know what to call it other than a trigger. (1/2)

Physical and emotional effect, at least I'm assuming on physical because I've had a bad reaction to something similar before, but like, I don't have trauma, I think it's more fear of the future. And I don't want to use trigger incorrectly, it's insensitive to those who actually have triggers. I'm just so confused.

Forgot to sign the last ask with 2/2 and HSD, whoops.

.

Hfnsiwk I'm not ready to walk into PT tomorrow and say that I don't think months of PT have been helping but I have no way to be completely sure because for all I know it's the weather since this is the first year I've known/it's been noticeable. Maybe it's just change, I don't know, but it just feels like such a waste of time if it really didn't help. Plus, I'd stop, and while that'd be great, I do enjoy being stronger, even if it didn't help pain. I have 12 hours and a bad pain day idek. -HSD

.

Hi Hypermobility Anon,

I think I found all your asks and got them in the correct order.  And found your last ask!

I’m so glad you kept writing in.  I think you should go ahead and make your side blog - you definitely have enough material for it.  Wanting to make a happy side blog also is a great goal to have, but if you don’t know what it will be yet, don’t let that prevent you from doing something you know you want to do and that will probably help you.  

You are dealing with So. Much.  Your mom especially sounds like she just is not ready to accept the situation.  It’s not self-pity to state your actual conditions.  It’s just reality.  

Forgetting about pain is normal, and really all you can do is try to write it down or make some kind of note about it in the moment or immediately after, so you can refer to it later.  Maybe you can track your pain events in your phone notes.

I think your idea to add “zebra” to your bio is a good one, this is part of your life and just something you have to deal with.  It sounds like you’re finding a community for this.  

Sleep schedules are tricky, and feeling like you desperately need to sleep can make it so stressful that it starts a vicious little cycle.  Some strategies to get around this are First, remember that just resting is okay and helpful too, even if you don’t fall asleep.  Letting your body lay there to rest is good for you.  

Second, if you’ve spent several minutes laying down without falling asleep, its okay to get up and walk around, or any small light exercise that’s comfortable for you.  The goal with this one is to get out of the bed for a bit.  It will help your brain to re-learn that the bed is for sleeping only, not for laying awake.  That association can help signal to your brain to start its sleep-process when you get into bed at night.

Third, it’s really common to have a changing circadian rhythm during your teens and twenties.  That’s just a thing that happens and you can’t do much about it, so just try not to worry too much.  Sleep when it feels right and when you can, instead of trying to force yourself to sleep when you’re “supposed” to.  

If hip braces would help you, you should definitely at least mention it to your physical therapist.  You might research online for any used ones as well.  A physical sign that you have pain can have good and bad consequences, but I think the good consequence of being in less pain far outweighs any others.

The triggering event you described is not so much a trigger as it is just a genuinely really upsetting situation.  You related really strongly to the character you were watching, because they’re dealing with similar problems to you, and to problems you could have in the future.  It’s a lot to process.  But while you could potentially be in a car accident, remember that television is made to dramatize events and probably made it seem a lot more difficult and scary than it really would be.   

Since we know you sometimes forget your pain, it’s safe to say that the exercises are helping you manage it, and you say that they’ve made you stronger in general.  Those are good things, and I would recommend you continue the exercises you can do on your own even if you end of ending  your physical therapy sessions.  We don’t know yet if your pain might have gotten even worse without therapy.  You’ll have to find that out on your own if you stop exercising, and then decide whether it’s more worth it to you to continue exercising or to live with the pain.  Whichever you choose, it’s Your choice, Your body.  Take care of yourself. <3

-bun

[triangularjuice]

Remember? -A Pokémon Story-

Chapter 11: Panic

You stare out a small window, a few raindrops from last night's storm lingering on the glass. You watch the city grow smaller and smaller as you ride further from the island. After your 'incident' some hours ago, Professor Kukui and Professor Burnet came to the hospital to find out what happened after a frantic phone call was made to their home. You told them your side of the story: that Xurkitree attacked you in the hallway. They had given each other a worried glance, and carefully explained what really happened.

"(Y/N)... we saw the footage from the hall cameras. Xurkitree was never there," Kukui had said.

To put it simply, you freaked out a bit. You thought you were going crazy, but Burnet had told you there might be an explanation. She hypothesized that since you had direct contact with Xurkitree when it abducted you, it was able to enter your subconscious when you almost died, but since you were resuscitated, the encounter was interrupted and left you and Xurkitree with an unnatural connection.

So basically, Xurkitree has a direct line to your brain, making you see it when it isn't really there. Then they had to address the other elephant in the room: the weird electricity that shot out of your body.

So that brings you here, on a boat headed for Aether Paradise. Burnet has some lab equipment here that she wants to use to run some tests. You're sitting below deck with Ash, Pikachu, and Cato, while Kukui and Burnet are up top. You aren't a fan of the water, so you're upsettingly watching the land shrink farther and farther away.

"How are you feeling?" Ash pipes up, trying to break the heavy silence. You turn from the window and look over at him.

"Okay, I guess. I don't know why they're making me wear these, it doesn't really hurt," you say, gesturing to your wrist and ankle braces. Ash smiles slightly.

"Maybe because you almost died," he says in a teasing way. You give a small laugh and shrug.

"That's true," you admit. You look down and see Pikachu playing with Cato, a smile tugging at your lips. You haven't seen Cato play in a while. Then again, with everything going on, how could anyone want to play? Your smile falters as you start thinking about your Dad. Ash notices and speaks up again.

"So.. have you ever been to Aether Paradise?" he questions, trying to distract you.

"I don't know, but I doubt it," you say, flatly. Ash nods slightly and turns to look at Pikachu and Cato, giving up on his efforts to take your mind off everything happening. You turn back to the window, watching the fast-approaching Aether Paradise.

~~~~~

You follow Professor Burnet down to a lab full of different scientific equipment. You look around nervously, wondering what these machines are meant for.

She asks you to take a seat on a large chair, and you obey. Burnet walks over with a syringe and you clam up. Not wanting to admit another fear, you just look away as she draws some of your blood. You let out the breath you were holding when she walks away, though you feel a little lightheaded. She takes it over to yet another machine you have never seen before, and inserts the vial.

Burnet goes on to take some scans of your body, getting all the information she can on your biology. You wonder if this is all really worth it.

After a while of being poked and prodded, she finally seems satisfied. As she studies her findings, you and the others find something to distract yourselves with. Ash and Pikachu are busy messing with machines they probably shouldn't be touching, and Kukui is sitting in a corner reading a book. You're sitting on the floor, leaning against Cato. You yawn as you stare off into space. Sleep hasn't been something you've gotten much of, lately.

You close your eyes as you lay your head on Cato's back, his soft fur becoming a substitute pillow.

~~~~~

You hear someone calling your name, gently shaking you awake. You open your eyes and see Ash's worried face above you.

"Burnet found something," he says. You get up, quickly making your way over to her at a computer. As you approach she gives you a small smile, and turns back to the monitor.

"After looking at all the data I collected, I think I figured some things out," she starts. "The human body has naturally occurring electrical currents that run parts of our body, like the nervous system. Our cells conduct this electricity to send signals throughout our bodies and to the brain so we can feel and move. Well, something's different about (Y/N). Looking at her cells, it seems like there's an excess amount of electrical currents present in her body. And when I say 'excess', I mean a lot. Enough to send out a surge like she did in the hospital," she explains. You stare at the images, unsure of what you're hearing.

"It seems like (Y/N) can manipulate this extra electricity inside her cells," Burnet states, glancing over at you. You just stand there, mouth slightly open, trying to wrap your head around this.

"H-how did this happen?" you stutter, looking down at your hands. Burnet turns back to the computer and pulls some other images up, including one of Xurkitree.

"You said that you have been gone for almost two years, and Ash found you in Ultra Space not too long ago. This means you were in Ultra Space that whole time, in some sort of cryogenic sleep. So, my theory is that Xurkitree was the one who put you to sleep there, and it was trying to fuse with you like Nihilego did with Lusamine," she explains.

You look at her, confused, not sure where she's going with this. You vaguely remember overhearing something about Ash's friend's mom in Ultra Space.

"But, it couldn't fuse with you for some reason. So, being in Ultra Space, the amount of electricity it used on you was absorbed by your body instead of coming and going, like it would have in our normal dimension," she finishes. You stand there, speechless, staring off to the side.

"(Y/N)?" you hear someone say, though it sounds far away. You feel a hand on your shoulder, but you quickly flinch away, taking several steps backwards. Your heart starts racing, and you begin to take rapid breaths. You look up at the others, their worried faces staring back at you. You can't stand the way they look at you anymore. The looks of sympathy and helplessness.

You turn on your heels and run out of the lab, needing to be anywhere but there. The ankle brace makes it a little difficult, but the adrenaline numbs any pain. You can hear them yelling your name, but it only makes you run faster.

'Why did this have to happen to me?'

***

Chapter 12: Memories

[littlemissagrafina]

Comfortember Day 2. First Day/Night + Day 24. Panic Attack

The Curtain of the Night (brings fear, not delight)

@comfortember

Read on AO3

Day and night were very different things for Peter.

During the day he could be happy, forget about his worries, his stress, and his fears. He could shove it aside and carry on with what he needed to do. School work, patrols, lab days, and days with May helping distract him.

On some days he could feel almost normal, almost like there wasn't a cloud hanging over his head bringing darkness, despair, and fear with it. On some days he could smile, and he could be happy, and he could forget the bad times. Forget the anxiety that was constantly nestled in his chest, and forget that it was waiting to tighten and constrict once again.

That couldn't happen at night. As darkness fell so did he, his thoughts drifting towards those of failure, of disappointment, of wrong. The thoughts that were him.

He didn't like those thoughts. They burned, twisted and warping as they wormed themselves into his head and heart. They brought his fears and his faults to life in the darkness.

Everyday when the sun fled, everyday that evening drew to a close, Peter would be filled with dread for the sleeplessness or the nightmares when he slept, the loneliness or the terror when he didn't (which was more often than he ever wanted to admit to.)

Peter would push his homework later and later, patrol for as long as he could, talk to Ned and MJ for as long as he could, all in a bid to stay awake just a bit longer. To stay safe and pretend as if his mind wasn't his enemy just a little more.

And most of the time he got away with late or even entirely sleepless nights because May wasn't always home, her shifts at the hospital running late, being a night shift, or the times she had to pull a double. Peter hated deceiving her, lying to her and pretending that he was okay and asleep when she did arrive home.

He hated it but he didn't know how else to cope because this was working. Maybe not in the best or most healthy way, but it was working.

Until he had to stay with Mr. Stark for a week while May was sent to help at an understaffed hospital a state or two away.

He hadn't even arrived at the compound but Peter knew what was happening, knew that Tony would notice and not let it continue but Peter didn't know whether to be angry or grateful for it.

His carefully broken system was being pushed and shattered but maybe he could hold the pieces together well enough to get through the week.

---

As it turns out, he couldn't. Tony had taken one look at him and immediately stated that they were skipping the lab that day and instead would be heading up to the living room to lounge and watch movies.

"You look like a racoon, kid." The man had poked his cheek near the corner of his eye playfully but Peter could hear the underlying concern in his voice.

"As if you look any better." Peter had sassed back, cringing inwardly at the obvious forced lightness to his voice.

Yeah, his charade wouldn't last a second around Tony.

The rest of the evening had passed with the two of them watching whatever shows they bounced between on Netflix and then eating the takeout that Tony had ordered, Pepper joining them just as it arrived.

Peter could almost forget that he had to sleep that night. He had tried to but the anxiety of staying at the tower with Tony and Pepper for the first time was weighing down on him. Okay, yeah, he'd stayed before but that was in the medbay after accidents on patrols, not a specific amount of time or reason like now. They'd also had many movie nights and lab days but he always went home.

Peter was jerked from his thoughts by Tony nudging his leg from where he sat on the other end of the couch. "You with me, kid?"

"Uh, ye- yeah, no, I'm here." Peter muttered as he tried to bring himself back to reality. "Sorry."

Tony looked at him, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "You feeling okay? You've been a bit more spacy than usual."

"Just tired. Sorry." Peter hummed absent-mindedly and Tony nudged him again.

"No needless apologies, kid." He reminded the teen. "We discussed it, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, so– uhh… I know." Tony couldn't help the amusement that bubbled inside of him when Peter floundered with the almost apology.

Worry still grew inside of him too.

"You sure you're good though?" Tony asked again.

"Yes, Mr. Stark. I'm just tired."

"How about an early night, then?" Pepper's voice rang from her place in the kitchen as she made herself tea.

When did she go to the kitchen? Peter wondered to himself before realizing what the woman had said. Anxiety suddenly flooded him and his eyes widened, breath catching slightly.

No, I don't wanna go to bed. I can't.

Tony saw the way Peter's eyes widened before they went blank once again. He almost thought he was imagining it until he saw the tension in Peter's shoulders.

"Yeah, that uh– that sounds like it might be a good idea."

No it doesn't.

The thought of having to go and lay with his thoughts as company wasn't appealing to Peter but he didn't know how to get out of it now.

"Good." Pepper smiled at him. "Spider babies need their beauty sleep."

Peter only vaguely remembers his response as his mind drifted slightly more away.

"Are you sure it isn't Mr. Stark that needs his beauty rest?"

The following laughter from Pepper and sputtering from Tony is the last clear thing that Peter recalls until he suddenly found himself on the floor with his back up against the couch and his legs tangled in the blanket half falling off the cushions.

A hand gripped his shoulder and another one was holding his own against a firm chest. Following the line of the hand, Peter looked up into the worried eyes of Mr. Stark. The older man was saying something but it was too far away, too muffled, for Peter to decipher.

The teenager was distracted by a strange ache in his chest. It felt like there was something pushing against his ribs, the pressure building and flowing up to his head. His eyelids started to close when there was a sudden stinging in his cheek.

"Peter! You need to breathe, kid! You can't check out on us now." Tony's frantic voice sliced through the fog clouding Peter's brain and everything crumbled with it. Light, sound, and touch all flooded back and for those first moments Peter was blindsided by the input before it calmed.

"Peter!" That was Pepper from behind him to one side. "Breathe, Sweetheart. You need to breathe. Follow Tony, feel his chest as he breathes. You can do it."

That was when he realised that Tony holding his hand against his chest was to help him follow the exaggerated rhythm of the man's own breathing. Drawing in a breath was difficult, his lungs and chest fighting for relief but his brain not wanting to listen.

Choking in tiny mouthfuls was all that Peter could do in the next minutes until, finally, his chest started to loosen and he was able to gulp in more air.

Through it all Tony's hands never left his shoulder and where he was pressing their other hands to his chest. Tony knelt in front of him and Pepper sat near them, her calm and quiet presence helping in itself to calm Peter in turn.

They stayed that way until the only remnants of Peter's panic was a burning in his throat and shaking hands. The exhaustion started settling in and his head tilted forward, thudding against Tony's collar as the man moved his hands to cradle him closer.

"M'Sorry." Peter's voice was barely loud enough to hear.

Pepper ran her hand gently across Peter's back and he was reminded of May when she would help calm him during an attack. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Pepper said to him, and he felt Tony nod in agreement.

"You were dissociating and you started panicking. You back with us now, Bug?"

Peter only gave a weak shrug in answer.

"Okay." Tony murmured. "That's okay. Can you tell us what happened? What triggered this?"

Peter was silent for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to go into it now because he knew that Tony wouldn't let this slide completely and that even if he got out of it now, the man would question him in the morning again.

Eventually he nodded, his head never leaving Tony's chest.

Pepper and Tony stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak if he was ready to.

"Brain was loud, too much. Scary. Didn't wanna sleep, it doesn't let me sleep." Peter's abstractness worried Tony but he knew from his own experience that it was because of the exhaustion currently settling after the rush of panic.

And then Peter's words registered. Oh, Kid.

"Why didn't you say anything, Petey?" Pepper asked before Tony could.

"Cuz it was stupid. Shouldn'a let it affect me like that."

Tony spoke immediately, a vehemence in his voice Peter didn't often hear. "You and what you feel are never stupid, you hear me? You are valid, Bud, and so are your fears and troubles."

He didn't know why but hearing that brought tears to Peter's eyes. "I'm so tired!" He cried and it broke Tony and Pepper's hearts. "I just want to sleep and for it to be quiet!"

"Is there anything we can do?"

Peter hesitated and Pepper jumped on it. "We'll do whatever we can, okay?"

Shaking his head Peter muttered something. Tony nudged him slightly on the head with his chin.

"It's embarrassing!"

Tony pulled back and lifted Peter's chin to look him in the eyes. "I've done plenty of embarrassing things in my life, Peter. This can't be worse than even half of said things that I've done."

Peter was tempted to try and brush it off but the older man had called him by his name. He never did that. Only when I needed Peter to really listen, to realise just how important what he was saying was.

"I can't sleep alone after panic attacks." Peter admitted, his voice small, embarrassed. "I used to climb in with May and- with May, but I stopped cuz I'm too old."

"So what do you do then?"

"I can't sleep after them and if I do try I just get nightmares and more attacks so I stay awake."

The couple shared a glance over Peter's head. "Okay, that's not happening anymore." Pepper said before she continued, cutting off Peter's question before he could ask it. "What we're gonna do for now is get cleaned up and changed for bed, then we'll head to the movie room with the pillow floors and set up for the night there."

"That way you won't be alone and we'll all have enough space, okay?" Tony carried on.

One part of Peter wanted to fight it, to say that he didn't want to be a burden or an annoyance but the other just wanted to be loved, to be held and protected. He let the latter lead for once.

"Okay. But what about tomorrow? You said 'For now' so what's after?" Peter asked them nervously and this time it was Tony who answered.

"Tomorrow we're gonna call May and talk to her together after breakfast when her shift ends. I want to talk to her and you about setting up some meetings with a therapist or someone that can help more than all of us could. Is that alright with you?" Tony asked him gently. "Would you be willing to try that out?"

Peter was nervous of that particular idea but he knew that he couldn't carry on like this so he nodded his head in consent.

Seeing his nervousness at the idea Pepper cut in before it could build to something more stressful. "That's for tomorrow though. For now let's go and get changed and we can try and see about getting you some sleep." She slid up from the couch behind Tony and Peter before holding out her hands to help them up.

Before she could let go Peter surged forward and pulled her and Tony into a hug.

Thank you, it whispered to them without needing words.

You're welcome, they hugged him back.

---

Peter didn't sleep perfectly that night but his sleep was more rested and calm than he had in a long while. His mind almost quiet.

It wasn't much but it was a start. It would take a while and many setbacks, repetitions of being told he was loved, cared for, and not a burden, but one day he would reach an evening that didn't bring the darkness of his mind with the fading of the sun.