#ray gotta touch some grass ( again )

[fortifice]

I do write stuff that isn’t sampard shaped I said like a lying liar.

[marypaol]

Flowers Upon Your Head

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader officially crowns the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts, but what she doesn’t expect is to be crowned his princess. (Not real crowns, but made of flowers.)

Warnings: Talk about praising someone, like hailing them, self doubts in academic work, nothing else I know of.

Sorry if it’s too short; but it’s gotta be one of my favorites besides “Dear Draco”.

Dear Draco

Masterlist

Request Requirements (they’ve been updated!)

The sky was bright blue, sun rays shining bright across all the land of Hogwarts, showcasing the wondrous school that held many intelligent students; now either learning more knowledge or taking their assigned time off.

Two green robes were taking the second option to their best advantage: staying outside in the fresh air and catching up on work.

The both lay on the grass by the Black Lake, the boy leaning against the tree trunk and the girl sitting criss cross next to him.

The boy, platinum blonde hair and known as the bully of the school, had his Potions homework in front of him on his lap. His quill scribbled left and right as he wrote an essay.

The girl, known as the most innocent person in the world who wouldn’t hurt a fly, was previously done with her homework and is now fiddling (or, at least, that’s the word Draco would use to describe what she was doing) with flowers in her hand, tying the stems together to make something the boy didn’t know.

She was well concentrated until she heard a groan escape the boy, her eyes moving from the flower stems to him, raising an eyebrow questionably.

He didn’t look up as did she, instead he was having a glare contest with the paper as he tapped his quill quite frustratingly.

“What’s another word for fragile?”

She thought for a moment, going back to the plants in her hand once she discovered his groan was the reason of nothing serious.

“Delicate? Brittle?” She asked once figuring it out, fingers slightly burning from now finishing the tie of the stems, the nectar from the flowers getting on her fingertips as the stems were tightly wrapped around her hands.

He hummed. “Brittle is good.”

She smiled soft, glad she could help in some way. “Is the essay coming along nicely?”

He chuckled. “With the amount of skill I have in the writing spectrum and your vocabulary, I think it’s going quite well.”

She rolled her eyes this time, knowing he was being sarcastic with the statement he said about himself.

“Dray, don’t worry; I read it during lunch and it looked fine so far. That is if you didn’t ruin it with what you call last minute edits.”

Her teasing tone grabbed a smirk from him that she didn’t see.

She wasn’t mindful of the next occurrence because she was in fact focused on the finishing touches of her crown, but his ears turned from pale to a soft pink color at the nickname.

He scoffed instead to cover it up even though she didn’t see it. “Doubt it.”

She sighed, knowing there was no use in trying to convince him the work was good grade worthy.

He suddenly slapped the paper down in front of her on the grass. “How does this look?”

Despite the aggression he showed in his actions she could hear a little anxiousness in his voice. He was nervous for her reaction.

She still had the flowers in her hands so she didn’t touch the paper in fear of getting things on it, so instead of holding them in front of her she moved them so they were by her shoulder and she looked down at the paper.

Draco’s handwriting covered the paper, perfect cursive with soft swoops in the letters forming great work.

Her eyes scanned it as she read, taking in the information he provided.

She hummed in satisfaction. “Very nice, Dray. Very nice.”

She smiled at him as he took the paper back, this time noticing the pink tint on the tip of his ears.

“You okay?” She asked, oblivious to the reason for his flush.

He nodded, swallowing thickly.

She hummed again, turning her body fully to him. “Don’t worry! Snape will love it. I see it now,” she started, pretending to look of into the distance like she was dreaming. “An ‘Outstanding’!”

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Wouldn’t go that far with it but whatever.”

She scoffed at his negative mindset and, wiping her hands on the grassy ground to get rid of the nectar, grabbed the crown she just previously made. She then turned the scoff on her face to a soft reassuring smile.

“Well, whatever you may think, I think it was wonderful and the good grade I know you’ll get is well deserved.”

She ended her sentence with softly placing the crown on his platinum head, the soft white petals perfectly matching the mob of hair he held.

Draco’s eyes moved upward as if he would be able to see the flowers on his head. The girl laughed, then she smiled once again.

“All hail the Slytherin Prince.” She joked. She expected another eye roll but instead received a soft smirk coming from the corner of his lips, a small chuckle escaping him.

She then moved to sit next to him, their shoulders brushing and cheeks flushing.

His soft looking hands reached out and using his long fingers pulled flower after flower out of the tall grass, each stem producing a satisfying snap when they broke.

Although she kinda felt bad for the flowers, she knew that the roots were still planted into the ground, so that gave her reassurance knowing they’d grow back again.

Still she watched as his own hands messily tied the stems together almost just like she did. When he was finished, his arm reached up as he placed it on her head, the weight of it slightly flattening the top of her hair.

He then leaned in, brushing his nose on her cheek; her face turning a soft tone of red. His head turned so his lips touched her ear lightly. The touch was barely felt, but it was there.

“All hail the Slytherin Princess.”

He whispered it, making the meaning much more meaningful. A soft chill went through her, a warm sense of comfort and nervousness at the same time racing down her spine.

“How’d you know how to tie it?” She asked curiously to hide the nervous warmth flooding through her. She felt his cheeks spread into a smile.

“I watch you, loves; much more than you think.”

Her face flushed as his finger gently booped her nose.

He chuckled low right in her ear. “Aww, don’t get flustered loves; just giving my princess the praise and recognition she deserves.”

Wait.

‘My Princess’?

Thank you for reading! 📖

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said. 

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said. 

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip. 

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some. 

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled. 

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said. 

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said. 

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?” 

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close. 

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ. 

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ. 

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow. 

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you. 

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said. 

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt. 

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together. 

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you? 

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

[unbridgeabledistances]

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

--

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.  

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing—  it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.  

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity  zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

**

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Full Moon

Ectober 12,021 Human Era, ao3

Tucker sighed, capping his thermos and hissing in pain as the bruises from fighting off an amalgam of armadillo and manta ray that he was all but sure got away from Vlad made themselves known. “Man, if only Danny could spare some of that super healing of his. He’s not the only one with a pretty face to keep pretty.” Tucker sighed, moving away from the splatters of ectoplasm all over the place to look for a less toxic patch of grass to sit in. What he found was even better than that, though.

Growing in a patch of grass between the trees where the light of the full moon passed through was a handful of beautiful flowers that practically drew Tucker to them. He moved slowly to keep from worsening his bruises and sat in front of the flowers, plucking one gently. A rush of energy poured down his veins, and where the moonlight touched him, Tucker’s aches and pains faded away. Staring down at the now glowing flower, Tucker pulled out his phone to call Sam. “Tucker?”

“You got that book of magic plants and stuff? Particularly ones that affect you when you pick them?” A biting curse came through the line and Tucker winced. “Yeah, it started glowing after I picked it.”

“This is why you check before you touch, Foley. Describe it to me?”

“Black on the inside and dark blue from the middle out with like, gold-yellow dots all over the petals. I thought ‘hey, that looks like something Danny would love to have, cause it reminds me of space’ and now all the bruises from ghost fighting don’t hurt anymore.” Tucker frowned, and pulled up his shirt to check, whistling. “Make that ‘aren’t there anymore’. This isn’t some way of lulling a person into a venus flytrap but like, spiritual is it?”

For a long 11 seconds, all Tucker heard was the flipping of pages, the scurrying of small things in the grass, and the chirping of crickets. Then, Sam laughs in his ear and Tucker jumps a bit, dropping the flower to whip out his lipstick laser. “Dude, you scared my heart out of my chest!”

Sam cackled a bit more before clearing her throat. “I’m sorry, I just- you’re a furry, right?”

“Yes,” Tucker said shortly, putting his laser away to pick up the flower again. “Why?”

“Congrats, your dream has come true. That’s a Golden Mourner flower: it only grows where the blood of a god has been spilled-“

“Gotta get Danny to recognize that cult of his.”

“Only blooms three times in a month and the flower dies in 24 hours.”

“I can’t even give it to him, great.”

“And picking it gives you lycanthropy.”

Tucker paused, cocking his head to the side, and blinked a few times. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope. Says here there’s no effect on your actual personality or anything, unless you’ve got a god complex hidden away in there.”

“That was Desiree’s fault and you know it.”

“Uh huh. When you come over we can test out your cool new powers. For now, you should probably either come here or head home. Unless you wanna enjoy your new furry form.”

“And you held back on doing magic when you first found a book, right? I’ll see ya, Sam.” Tucker could hear the song of the Moon, much like how he'd described it when Nocturne opened his mind but words couldn't capture its beauty. He had to move.

[abarbaricyalp]

@sambuckylibrary

SamBucky Halloween Prompt 1: Urban Legends

High School AU, spooky ghost stories and dead girl’s revenge

Rated G: mild cursing (AO3 link in the notes)

Haunt me, baby, one more time

“Legend says that every 17 years, the body of Lyla Ray comes back from the dead, looking for her next victim,” Sam whispered severely. Bucky’s attention was rapt on him, unblinking and fully engaged. “She preys on beautiful young men, the kind that killed her all those years ago. And she cuts their hearts out to eat it.”

“That’s a little on the nose,” Bucky breathed back, but his gaze didn’t waver. The bottom of Sam’s truck bed was starting to get uncomfortable, even with all the blankets he and Bucky had piled into it and Louisiana was hot on October 28th, so the blanket thrown over their heads--turning them into one lopsided ghost to anyone who happened to drive by and look--was getting unbearable.

“Do you want to go see where her body is?” Sam asked.

“I thought you couldn't bury people so close to the coast.”

“She’s buried,” Sam assured. “So far down underground so that maybe she won’t dig her way out.”

Bucky shivered involuntarily and Sam grinned. “How long ago was her last supposed appearance?” he asked.

“A year after we were born.”

Bucky let out a breath of realization. “I see. So she’s supposed to come back tonight,” he said.

“Exactly. If we hurry, we can see her come up.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted the full Louisiana experience while you were stuck down here?”

“Did I say stuck?” Bucky asked, reaching over to cup Sam’s cheek before pulling him into a slow kiss. “I’m sure I didn’t mean stuck.”

Sam grinned against his mouth, a little thankful for the blanket over them since they were parked just off the road. Then again, Halloween always made him feel invincible, so he probably would’ve let Bucky kiss him with or without the blanket.

He let Bucky distract him up until Bucky tried to lay him out over the blankets--later, definitely later--at which point he pushed him back. “Come on, you have to come with me,” he said, pulling on Bucky’s hands.

Bucky sighed like it was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe it was. Bucky was the biggest skeptic Sam had ever met. Most kids new to the state were wide eyed and excited about the hundred billion ghost stories that permeated every street and building. Not Bucky Barnes though. He couldn’t be tasked to believe in any story about any monster or ghost or legend. Nothing phased him. Not any of the ghost tours Sam had dragged him to, not the haunted houses that had crept up in the weeks leading to Halloween, not the voodoo or tarot shops that always sent a thrill of excitement down Sam’s spine. Bucky just didn’t buy any of it, which made him even more enchanting to Sam’s stupid heart. Opposites attract and all that.

Bucky stood up, knocking the blanket away, and hauled Sam with him before climbing over the edge of the truck and waiting for Sam to do the same. By design, they were already pretty near the cemetery and it was getting dark, so Sam let his fingers graze over the back of Bucky’s hand until Bucky tangled them together.

“Y’know,” Sam said after a few steps, “you’re just like a Layla Ray victim.”

“Am I?” Bucky amused. “How do you reckon?”

“Oh come on. You’re a total pretty boy. Total heartbreaker.”

“Samuel Thomas, have I broken your heart?” Bucky asked in mock affront.

The thought of this thing between them maybe not being permanent broke Sam’s heart every damn day, actually. And Bucky being adamant about going back to New York for college was devastating too. “Not me. But I know you got a string behind you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked their hands against Sam’s thigh softly. “You’re terrible to me. You’re like her victims. You’re breakin’ my heart right now as we speak. And with eyes like that? A mouth like that? Total pretty boy too.”

Sam laughed and leaned into Bucky’s side. “Now you’re just flattering.”

“Nah, it’s true. I’ve heard the girls at school talk about you. All of Sarah’s friends are obsessed with you. Becca thinks you’re the cutest.”

“They’re freshmen. They hardly have taste yet. Sarah’s friends are just happy I pay attention to them in the hallways.”

“Well, Sarah’s friends like you a lot more than Becca’s friends have ever liked me,” Bucky said. “Which has to count for something.”

“Nah, ‘cause you’re an asshole. I totally get where those girls are coming from.”

Bucky glanced down the street before hauling Sam into a kiss that sent Sam’s head spinning through the dark night. “You think assholes can kiss like that, Wilson?”

Sam still couldn’t think but he nodded anyway because being contrary to Bucky was second nature.

Bucky snorted and let go of Sam’s waist. “Then I’m an asshole who likes you a whole lot. Even if you’re, like, super mean to me all the time.”

“You like it,” Sam said and hurried to catch back up to Bucky. “Here, it’s just up ahead.”

“Yeah, I might’ve missed the gate,” Bucky agreed sarcastically.

“We can be a little extravagant,” Sam said, looking up at the metal monstrosity, a remnant of the past, holding all the secrets of the past too. “Gotta keep the ghosts inside, y’know.”

“From what I hear, you’re not very good at that part.”

Maybe not. “Layla Ray isn’t a ghost, she’s a Revenant.”

“She’s a bear?” Bucky asked, just to be obtuse.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam repeated and pulled him into the cemetery. “She’s buried towards the back, ‘cause she’s so old, y’know. And so that maybe she’ll be confused while she’s trying to get out.”

“Wait a second, this girl has been eating hearts for centuries now and she’s been buried underground for most of the time this cemetery’s been around to keep her buried, but actually it’s not working since she’s been wandering around?”

“That’s not the point,” Sam said, waving his hand in the air. “The point is the story.”

“I get the story. I’m just saying, stick to a reason why she’s buried instead of cremated or something.”

“She’s buried because that’s how the story works.”

“You know, she ought to come after you, usin’ her name and tragic end to scare new kids at your school.”

“We used to come out here all the time when we were kids,” Sam said. “The worst trouble I ever got in was when I brought Sarah with me once and dragged a stick down her arm while she was looking at the gravestone.”

Bucky snorted. “And I’m the asshole.”

“I’ve been waiting for seventeen years for this. Just let me have this one night.”

“If this is a once in seventeen years event, why ain’t no one else out here?” Bucky asked.

“I dunno, guess you grow out of it,” Sam said with a shrug. “Or maybe no one wants to risk being the guy who gets his heart eaten.”

“Right. Or you just made this up to get me out here all alone. Maybe you’re actually the ghost.”

“Am I that unbelievable?” Sam teased. He leaned up and stole another kiss before weaving Bucky to the back of the cemetery. He made sure to avoid walking over any plots that happened to be in the ground, though there weren’t many. Finally, nearer to the back fence, they came to a stop in front of a gravestone that read Layla George Ray 1796-1813 Beloved Daughter.

“I hate looking at tombstones for people our age,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers over the lettering of Layla’s name.

“That’s almost touching, Barnes,” Sam said.

Bucky crouched down to run his hand over the even, cut grass that adorned the top of the grave. “No fresh dirt. Guess your revenant isn’t so hungry tonight,” he said, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “Even with two eligible guys standing around.”

Suddenly a woman’s scream pierced through the night and Bucky sprawled back on his ass, scrambling away without ever being able to get his feet under him.

Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders when they finally collided and then sank down himself, cackling so hard he could barely breathe.

“Oh my God, Barnes,” he gasped. “Your face!”

“Sam!” Bucky cried. “Didn’t you fucking hear that? What was that?”

Sam fell onto his back, clutching at his ribs, knees bent up to his chest. It didn’t help retain any air, but it happened anyway. “Jesus, look at you,” he wheezed and buried his face in his own arm. “You really thought--” He wheezed some more and real tears slipped out from his eyes.

“What?” Bucky asked, still panting, still ready to bolt, but now more confused than terrified. “What are you talking about?”

Sam uncurled himself and held out his phone. The scream pierced through the air again and cut off abruptly when Sam silenced it. “You thought-- You really thought a dead girl was coming out of her grave to eat your heart.”

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Bucky snapped, finally catching up to what Sam had done. He sat back heavily on the ground and Sam broke out in new laughter.

“Your face, Barnes! You were so fucking scared.”

“I thought someone was dying, Wilson.”

“You thought someone was coming back from the dead,” Sam corrected.

“I hate you. I hope you do get haunted.”

“You can’t hope for what you don’t believe in,” Sam pointed out.

“I can hope for what you believe in. And I hope all sorts of creepy shit haunts your ass for years. I hope you don’t sleep for ages.”

“Oh come on,” Sam said with a smug smirk. “You don’t mean that. You love cuddling with me when you think I’m asleep.”

Bucky glared balefully at him. “Cuddling with you when you’re awake is just as fine by me.”

“Besides, if I get haunted, that ghostie’s gonna be all up in your business too,” he pointed out. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand down to Bucky. “Come on, baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

Bucky followed the long line of his arm up to Sam’s face before reaching for his hand and standing as well. “That a promise, Wilson?”

“Well, those blankets weren’t just for story time, y’know.”

“I like the sound of that. Keep on talking.” Bucky closed his fingers around Sam’s and Sam took it as the reconciliation it was. Together, they started for the front gate again.

Behind them, others talked too.

[platypanthewriter]

Sun

Harringrove April prompt 15, Sun.  After the Mindflayer, Billy’s kinda weird, but Steve figures that makes sense.

Steve took the kids to pick each other up, sometimes, and sometimes, Max was at the hospital, to see Billy.  In Steve’s head, Billy nearly dying to save Eleven kind of...balanced out beating Steve’s head in.  Didn’t mean Steve liked the guy, but he thought...well, Steve Harrington had been no kinda prize until he started fighting for kids, and maybe Billy had changed, at least a little.  

Also, it was hilarious, because post-Mindflayer Billy Hargrove didn’t give a shit.  Steve had thought he hadn’t before, but then he saw a nurse outside, trying to get Billy to go back in—or at least put his clothes back on—and Billy just leaning against the side of the building by the dumpsters, naked in the sun.  She saw Max, and sighed with relief, heading inside.

Before, Billy had cared too much, Steve realized—about what Steve was doing, about who ruled the school—but he only cared about the sun, anymore.  

That, and probably annoying his sister, some, because when she leaned around the corner of the building and yelled, “Billy Hargrove, put your damn pants on,” he leaned his head back, eyes still closed, and replied, “Don’t look over here and you won’t see anything you don’t like, Maxine.”

“You better have left your bandages alone,” she shouted, and he laughed, then grimaced, wincing.

“You better stop bossing me around,” he yelled back.

“You’re gonna freeze your ass cheeks off,” she hollered, her hands firmly over her eyes as she meandered hesitantly towards his voice.  

“Don’t fucking come over here,” Billy groaned, bracing himself against the wall to look over, but one of his knees bent, and his legs both collapsed.  He landed with a soft “—oop.”

“...can I look?” Max asked, stopping.

“No, don’t,” he muttered, trying to push himself back up, and Steve took a step forward automatically, grimacing.  

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Max told him, putting her hands on her hips.  “I’m gonna get you a wheelchair.”

“The sun’s only over here for like fifteen more minutes,” Billy hissed at her, squirming until he could lean back against the building, at least.  “Lemme alone.”

“I can hear you shivering,” she snarled back.  “You’re probably getting dirt under all your bandages.  I’m getting a wheelchair.”

“Get the wheelchair,” Steve told her, and Billy twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes.  “Once he’s in the shade, we can throw a blanket on him, and push him in the sun again.”

“...fine,” Max growled, and stomped off.

“...y’know if you leave a bottle of water in the sun for six hours, it disinfects it,” Billy said softly.  “The UV rays.”

“...okay,” Steve said, keeping an eye out for anyone he needed to prevent walking around the edge of the building.  Billy mumbled something, and Steve wandered closer, trying not to notice how thin his shoulders looked, or the irritated red skin peeking out from under his bandages.  “...what’s that?”

“It doesn’t like the sun,” Billy whispered.  “Can’t take the UV.”

“...you know it’s gone, right,” Steve told him, and Billy snorted a laugh, his knuckles whitening as he gripped at the scrubby grass.  

“Mmm,” Billy said, and Steve crouched to grab his hand.  

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll help you stand up.”

Billy laughed.  “You’re gonna see shit and wish you hadn’t, Harringto—fuck,” he gasped, as Steve slid an arm around him, and slowly stood.  “You’re warm, fuck,” Billy muttered, staggering, and shivering harder.  

“We showered together,” Steve reminded him, trying to hold Billy so he faced the sun, but not touch him anywhere weird.  “I’ve seen it all.  I mean, you didn’t look as shitty, then.”

Billy laughed again, then took a few shuddery breaths, touching his bandages.  “...fffuck,” he breathed.  “I’m hot as...hell, Harrington,” he gasped, his whole face screwed up with pain.  “Just...got no taste.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve played along.  “The stubble really helps.  And the goosebumps, can’t forget those.”  

“Shit,” Billy breathed, pulling him a couple of inches further into the sun.  “...yeah.  I gotta...hide back here,” he said, coughing, and groaning.  “My public keeps wanting autographs.”

“...what about a tanning bed,” Steve asked, watching the last sliver of sun slide behind the laurels that shielded the dumpsters.  “Surround you with the same thing, right?”

Billy’s breath caught.  “...they’re not gonna let me out,” he whispered, curling a little against Steve’s shoulder, worn out.  “I can’t get to one.”

“I will talk to your doctor, okay,” Steve told him.  “Would you lie down and sleep, after?  If we get you in one?  Surrounded by the what, the UV light?”

Billy gripped his arms, and nodded, swallowing.  “Y-yeah.  I—I just need to—”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, as Max pushed the wheelchair around the corner.  

 Billy draped himself over the chair like a throne, and Max groaned at the drama, but tucked a blanket around him with annoyingly thorough pokes.  Billy grumbled, batting at her hand.

Once Steve wheeled him into the room, Billy lolled his head back and hollered, “Max!  You were so right, I’m dying, I need water.”  

“Like a plant,” Steve said.  “He needs to be watered.  I kinda have to take a piss—”

“Sounds like you two can work that out,” Max said, wrinkling her nose, but running off.  

“You piss on me and I’ll tear your dick off—” Billy started, then trailed off, watching her go.  “Check my back,” he whispered, yanking at the blanket, and Steve grabbed his hands.  

“Get in the bed,” he whispered back.  “I can’t see anything with you in the chair.  I’ll check.”  Billy’s shoulders were bony in his hands, and Steve bit his lips, helping him back onto the hospital bed.

“...don’t get fresh, now,” Billy grunted, shaking with exhaustion as he flopped too far down on the bed, his feet hanging over the edge, but too tired to move.  

“I would never,” Steve told him, snorting a laugh.  “Lemme scoot you up—”

“Just look,” Billy hissed, clenching his fists, and Steve kept his sigh silent, and yanked back the blanket.  

There were still a bunch of bandages down Billy’s back, and Steve grimaced, trying not to stare at a dude’s naked ass.  “”You’re fine,” he sighed, and Billy slammed his hand against the mattress so hard the bed rolled a little.  

“You didn’t fucking look—”

“I did,” Steve hissed back, and Billy shook his head, wrapping his arms around his pillow and his face.  

“Look harder,” he whispered hoarsely.  “Everything hurts, there’s something there this time—”

Steve rubbed his face, and then, grimacing, reached out and touched Billy’s shoulder.  Billy gave a full-body shudder, flinching away.  “—the fuck,” he gasped, sounding strained, but Steve just set his jaw and ran his fingertips down the back of Billy’s arm.  

“I’m looking.  There’s nothing.”

Billy stayed still, for once, letting Steve run his fingers down the whole length of his body as Steve’s face flamed.  When Steve finished running his fingers down Billy’s sides and along his legs and feet, he stuck his arms out behind him, and Steve carefully inspected his hands and forearms for black veins.  

“Back here,” Billy said, grabbing his hair off his neck, and Steve leaned in to inspect the back of Billy’s neck, and behind his ears, listening to the panting, snuffly breaths he was taking into the pillow.  

“You’re clear,” Steve said, and Billy finally relaxed, swallowing hard.  

“...fuck,” he muttered, between slow, shaky breaths.  “Shit.  I thought—”

“Try to get some sleep,” Steve told him, sighing.  “You’re fine.”

“I’m so fine,” Billy muttered into his arms, huffing a laugh.

Steve thought about telling someone that “looking” with fingertips worked, but he couldn’t see Max wanting to try it, or Billy letting her.  

“...you want me to come look tomorrow?” Steve asked, resignedly, and Billy went really still.  “...I can check for you if you’ll feel better.”

“...you just wanna get your hands on my ass,” Billy whispered finally, his voice cracking.

“That’s definitely it,” Steve snorted, pulling the blanket back over him, and tucking it in.  “Stay under there, it didn’t like warm either, right.”

When Max came back in, she had a tray of food, and started bickering with Billy over the applesauce on it, so Steve left.  As he opened the door, Billy called out “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Steve agreed.

 He tried to find Billy’d doctor to ask him about a tanning bed, and then the nurse on duty, but she must have thought Billy wanted a tan, because she rolled her eyes.  “That kid is gonna die of vanity,” she said, and Steve laughed uncomfortably.

 When he’d been at the grocery store, they had cactuses.  He drove over there and wandered around until he found a lady holding flowers, and grilled her on how to make somewhere warm and sunny enough for a cactus.  After writing a lot on his hand about grow lamps and minimum temperatures, he turned away, and she said “...you aren’t gonna buy a cactus?”, so he did.  He picked out an especially spiky one to call Billy, and a shorter wooly one that looked like it was crouching to lunge, and called that one Max with great satisfaction.  

The hardware store didn’t have grow lamps, so he ordered two, and bought some bulbs.  When he got home, he put Billy and Max into the window, and carefully watered them, then frowned at them through the evening, half expecting them to wither and die.  

 The next day, Billy was waiting for him after work, his hands shaking a little, but he looked less exhausted.  

“You get some sleep, finally?” Steve asked, pulling Billy’s hair away from his ears to check, and then lifting it off his neck.

“Don’t get distracted,” Billy muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotta appreciate the sights, right,” Steve sighed, and Billy laughed, relaxing already under Steve’s careful fingers.  

“What about under the bandage,” Billy whispered, when Steve’s fingers grazed his ribs.  “Where it went through me.”

“Doesn’t the nurse change that out every day,” Steve asked, having seen it, and Billy’s fingers clenched around the edges of the mattress.  

“She’s not looking, she thinks I’m nuts,” he growled, and Steve grimaced, lifting the edges to look underneath.  

“I think they’ll throw me out if I mess with your bandages.  How about you have Max watch?”

“...she doesn’t wanna see that,” Billy muttered, and Steve rolled his eyes, thinking ‘because I do, right.’

“She wants to make sure you’re safe too,” he told Billy, who was silent.

 “His room at home doesn’t get any sun at all,” Max said, when she showed up, and Steve frowned at the man huddled under the blankets.  “He’s gonna get arrested for flashing the neighbors.  And probably, like, skin cancer on his dick.”

Both options seemed likely.

“When are they releasing him?” Steve asked, cocking his head thoughtfully, and Max winced, blowing through her cheeks.  

“We don’t know.  He keeps talking about how he could stay longer if he fell down the stairs,” she said, smiling grimly.  

“...what the fuck,” Steve said, staring at her, and his vague thoughts of Billy coming to visit began to take shape.

 “What?!  No!” Robin said, when he mentioned the idea of inviting the man who’d given him a concussion to live in his house.  

“He’s changed,” Steve said lamely.  “And he’s got no strength in his arms,” he pointed out, with more certainty.  “He’s not gonna be hitting anybody.”

“We can always fling him off your balcony,” she said, considering.

 He broached it to Billy the next day, as he ran his fingertips down the warm, goose pimply skin of Billy’s thighs.  “You should come to my apartment,” he said, and Billy’s foot twitched.

“...the hell would I wanna go visiting anywhere,” he asked.  “Don’t get distracted—”

“I’m not, look, I’m stopping here, I’ll restart in the right spot,” Steve said, resting his whole hand on Billy’s thigh just below his ass.  He shivered.  “I’m saying come stay with me, okay.”

After a long pause, Billy lifted his head from the pillow.  “...what,” he croaked.

“Come stay with me.”

“...are you fucking serious,” Billy shot back, glaring over his shoulder.  “Don’t fuck with me, Harrington—”

“I’m not,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.  “My apartment faces south, man, sunny all day.”  Billy’s breath caught.  “Think about it,” Steve told him, bending to carefully check Billy’s legs for the black veins of the Mindflayer.  

 That night, Steve’s phone rang.  “Were you serious?” Billy said, with no preamble.  “I can come stay with you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, winding the cord around his finger, his cheeks irrationally flushed.  It was just Billy, he told himself, glancing around the apartment and wishing it was nicer.  The carpet looked older than Steve was, he thought in dismay.

“For how long,” Billy said softly, like there had to be a catch, and Steve shrugged.  

“Doesn’t matter, Hargrove, jesus.  I can’t let you go home.”

“...the hell did Max tell you,” Billy hissed, and Steve blinked.  

“She said your room had no sun.”

Billy started laughing—Steve hoped the noise was laughing, anyway, at least mostly—and then hung up.

 The day Billy was released, Steve took him straight to a tanning salon, and he emerged half-asleep from the tanning bed, so sleepy and quiet he didn’t even resist Steve carrying him back out to the car.  

He did have a lot to say about getting piggy-backed up the stairs to Steve’s apartment, like “Giddyup”, “Yee-haw”, “You just want me wrapped aorund you,” and “What the shit, Harrington, three stories, I’m gonna be trapped up here like fucking Rapunzel.”

“Didn’t a king put her in a tower to weave gold,” Steve asked, panting, and Billy laughed against his shoulder.  

“That was Rumpelstitzkin.  Wrong story.  Rapunzel, a witch did it.  They traded her for salad.”

“They fucking what,” Steve said, staggering to a stop on the stairs, and Billy burst out laughing.  

“Keep walking, your majesty.  Don’t drop me.”

 Steve reached and flicked the lights on, and then carried Billy inside.  His mom had gotten rid of his kid’s bed, so he’d just hauled his queen size out to the front room, in front of the windows, and he lowered Billy next to it, turning to grab him as he stumbled, looking around.  

“...there’re cactuses growing on your windowsill,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded.  

“It’s so sunny in here cactuses grow,” Steve informed him proudly.  “I thought that one looked like you—”

“Sturdy?” Billy suggested, smirking.  “Prickly?”

“Pain in my ass,” Steve told him.  “Here, sit down before you fall down.  Okay, these lamps?” he pointed, walking over,  “—sun lamps, okay.  They’ll keep it sunny year-round—”

“...why do you care if it’s sunny year-round,” Billy asked flatly, and Steve blinked over at him.  “I already don’t know how I’m gonna pay you back for this,” Billy gritted out.  “The fuck do you mean year-round.”  

Steve bit his lips together, thinking how weird and pathetic it was that he’d been so excited to have Billy come he’d lost sleep, bought grow lamps and cacti, and scrubbed his whole fridge out that morning at three, after it occurred to him, lying awake, that he hadn’t since he moved in.  He walked into the kitchen, and started getting out the chicken soup fixings he’d been assured Billy could eat.  “...I put a plastic lawn chair in the shower for when you can take showers,” he said, and heard his bed creak.  He looked over to see Billy standing, gripping the headboard, but then he sat again, swearing.  

“Harrington,” he hissed.

Steve told him about the hours he kept, and the plan with Max to bring Billy’s things, and Billy muttered darkly, and eventually complimented Steve’s soup like he was mad to admit it was good.

 That night, he squirmed next to Steve, slowly, because he couldn’t move fast, his breathing catching, then evening out, then gasping again.  

“...you need anything?” Steve asked finally, and Billy was silent for a long time, like he was holding his breath.  

“Maybe I should shave my head,” he said, casually, out of the blue, and Steve couldn’t help it, he snorted a laugh, dissolving into snickers.

“What?!” he hissed, still giggling.

“Can’t check under my hair,” Billy said, nearly inaudibly, and Steve groaned, then scooted closer, and reached up to find Billy’s shoulder in the dark.  

He slid his hand up and through Billy’s curls.  “S’warm, right?”

“...yeah,” Billy breathed.

“Doesn’t like warm,” Steve whispered back, sliding his fingers through every inch of Billy’s hair, slowly, so heat could build.  “If this feels bad, we’ll know, right?”

“......yeah,” Billy said, after an even longer pause.  

“...so does it?” Steve asked, after a while, and Billy didn’t answer.  Steve suspected he’d fallen asleep, but he made sure to finish.

 While Steve got ready for work, Billy was arranging himself in the bed, centered in the windows with his naked ass hanging out.  He sighed contentedly, and Steve groaned.

“Tell me you put sunscreen on,” he said, and Billy glared over.  

“I can’t put a shirt on, Harrington.  It’s fine—”

“You’re gonna be pissed if you get sunburned,” Steve told him, grabbing the sunscreen he’d bought for the time he took the Party camping, before they were too old for fun.  Billy stared at him, but Steve had had girlfriends, and he was a good babysitter, so he was an expert at warming sunscreen just enough, and not letting his fingers linger anywhere they weren’t supposed to be.  

Billy lay stiff as taxidermy as Steve rubbed sunscreen into his shoulders and arms, and then down his back—and then paused, because usually there was swimsuit there, and Billy cracked up the hardest Steve had ever heard him laugh.  He ever kicked his foot a little, snickering at Steve’s bad life choices.

Steve slapped a lotion-gooey hand on Billy’s ass, defiantly, and Billy yelped, laughing harder, and curling a little on his side, so Steve had to shove him on his face again to get him around the side of his butt.

“What are you doing,” Billy groaned into his pillow, cackling as Steve got his thighs and down the backs of his knees.  

“I just don’t wanna find you burned to ashes, like a vampire,” Steve said, blushing harder than ever, and then patted the calf of Billy’s leg.  “Flip over.”

“...I’ll get the front,” Billy said, still sniggering.  “I promise.  I swear, Harrington—”

“...you better,” Steve said, a little relieved, and a lot disappointed.  He shook his head hard, and left the sunscreen where Billy could get it.  

When he glanced back, Billy’s whole body was much redder than Steve’s squeamish lotioning could explain.  

 That night when he got home from work, he brought a pizza.  Billy eyed it doubtfully, but accepted the offered plate.  He stayed on the bed, watching Steve watch TV, until Steve waved him over, making a face.  

“D’you need help getting off the bed, or something?” he asked, and Billy shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

“Not gonna risk it,” he said.  “You felt me up too good this morning.  Might get ideas.”

Steve threw an olive at him, and Billy popped it in his mouth.  Steve watched him lick the drooping tip of the pizza into his mouth, and the grease shining on his lips.  Steve cleared his throat, and fixed his eyes on the TV screen.  

“So if I’m the spiky one,” Billy said, pausing halfway through the pizza slice to lay back on the bed, “—who’s the other one?  You got two cactuses in your life?”

“Max,” Steve told him absently.  “I was asking the lady at the store how to keep it sunny enough for a cactus in here, and so she thought I’d buy some, y’know.”

“...I guess when you start bringing a girl around, you’ll get something pretty,” Billy said, not any particular way, and Steve realized he’d been listening closely for tone.  

“Cactuses have flowers,” Steve told him, and Billy pushed himself up again, watching Steve’s face.  

Steve didn’t know what to do with that, except stick his tongue out, or something, so he stuffed the whole rest of the pizza slice in his mouth, and chewed.

 Billy could mostly take care of himself, except for being a little crazy.  Steve asked Dustin what it was called if something couldn’t live without sunlight, and Dustin said photosynthesis, so that was what Steve told his neighbors Billy had.  He jerked awake nearly every night no matter how long he baked himself the night before, breathing shakily.  Sometimes, it worked for Steve to slide a hand over and touch his shoulder, and then smooth his hand over Billy’s skin, reminding him the Mindflayer didn’t like it warm.

“You could just look, and we could go back to sleep,” Billy mumbled, but he scooted closer as Steve smoothed a hand along his ribs, and down his hip.

“Too sleepy, no lights,” Steve groaned, flopping half on top of him, and Billy laughed until they were both awake.

 Once, he tried to escape Steve, who scrambled the other way, thudded to the floor with a loud crash at 3am, and woke the neighbors, who yelled up through the floor asking if they were okay.  

Billy and Steve snickered in horror over that one, and Steve tried to sleep on the couch, that night, despite Billy’s continual whispers of “You know you’d rather get some, Harrington.  Get back over here.  I’m lonely, Harrington.  Put your hands on me, Harrington.”  He started singing it, softly, then louder, like their neighbors weren’t tortured enough, and finally Steve groaned, laughing, and tromped back over to crawl into bed.

“You want my hands on you, huh,” Steve whispered, daring to scoot close and slide a hand around Billy’s waist, pulling their whole bodies against each other.  “...warm enough?” he asked, and Billy nodded, frozen stiff like a board against his chest.

“...what were you dreaming?” Steve whispered, against Billy’s ear, because usually Billy curled into his warmth, edging towards him even asleep, until they were a mess of arms and legs and their skin stuck together a little with sweat.

Billy took a slow breath, then let it out.  Steve waited, but he just kept...breathing, until Steve finally grunted unhappily against his neck, and snuggled closer.  They didn’t get much sleep, that night, since Billy kept twitching awake, and finally Steve got up and turned on the sun lamps, and yanked off the blanket to run his hand up and down Billy’s lower back.

“...d’you wanna kiss me,” Billy finally said, flatly, like he was mad, and Steve froze.  

He thought about the way Billy knew exactly how to make Max mad—but teased her about something else, instead, after listening to her scream as he went down at the mall.  The shine of the pizza grease on Billy’s lips, and how pink they’d been, after he licked them.  How he sat up a little every time Steve walked in the room, like Steve Harrington was someone to get excited about.  

“...you don’t, do you,” Billy said, even more firmly, his hands clenched on Steve’s, around his waist.  “Fuck.  Forget it.”

“What the hell, no, I’m not forgetting it,” Steve hissed, and Billy laughed, less happily, this time.  

“Yeah,” he whispered.  “That’s what I was dreaming about.”

“What if—what if I do.  Want to,” Steve mumbled, feeling like a moron, and Billy went all stiff and uncomfortable in his arms again.  

“Make up your mind, Harrington,” he growled, and Steve sat up, so Billy fell on his back with a sputtered “Fuck!”

 Steve licked his lips, staring down at Billy’s glowering face and set jaw, going golden in the first, early rays of the sun.  He leaned in for a kiss.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

[g0ttal0ve101]

Eddie in Wonderland (Part 3 ❤️🖤)

There sat a beautiful table full of tea pots, tea cups, cookies, candies, anything that a child could wish for to have the perfect tea party. Eddie rushed up to the table, letting out a soft 'wow' before feeling two hands grab his shoulders tightly. Eddie froze up from the touch, feeling his heart drop all the way to the ground and splattering on his shoes.

"Hello, dear child. Would you like some tea?"

Eddie shuddered at the voice before turning around to face the man who owned it. "I-I'm sorry, did I interrupt?"

"No, you're just fine. Have a seat, dear." The Mad Hatter coaxed, pulling him a chair out to sit in. Eddie hesitantly sat down, looking up at the man with a worried expression. He sat down across from the boy, grabbing the tea pot and pouring some tea in a small flower cup. "Would you like some tea?"

Eddie nodded slowly with a slight smile. "Yes, thank you..."

"May I ask your name? And perhaps where you're headed?" He asks, handing him the steaming tea cup.

"Ah, my name is Eddie..." he softly replies, grabbing the cup. "And...I'm trying to find a whit-"

"Eddie? What a lovely name for a lovely boy. Here, drink up."

"...What is your name?" Eddie questions.

"I'm the Mad Hatter, but you may call me Danny." He quickly told him. "Now, drink up. Drink up! Would you like some sugar? Milk?"

The ginger grew concerned and a bit uneasy about how pushy the man was being towards drinking the tea. He peered down at the liquid, seeing it looked pretty safe. "No, I'm fine...thank you for asking..." He then took a sip, finding that this didn't taste of tea at all, more like alcohol. He coughed a little, only to see Danny staring at him.

"Does it taste good? More sugar? More milk?"

"A-Ah..." Eddie coughed again. "I-I don't think this is t-tea..."

"More sugar, I see." Danny takes the cup away and begins pouring sugar into it, at least, Eddie thought it was sugar. "Here, try it now." He hands it back to the boy, only for the liquid to taste totally different.

Eddie smiles softly, nodding. "This tastes much better, thank you." Danny watched the boy drink intensely, making sure he got each and every last drop of it. After he was done, the boy began to feel dizzy and bubbly. "Ahhh...what type of tea was that...?"

"Did you like it?"

"Hehe...yeahhh..." Eddie looked around obliviously, finding everything was mixed colors and sparkles. He was incredibly happy at the sight of it, leaning back in his chair while hiccuping. "Hehe...hahahahaha...hahaha! Hahahahaha!"

Danny stood up, approached the boy slowly, and grabbed his face. Eddie was in no condition to realize how creepy the man was being, giggling constantly at him. To Eddie, he began to look more and more like his father. "Now, those eyes of yours are so beautiful. Hazy and dark..."

"Hahaha!"

"Like you've lost yourself. Like you're mad."

"Hahahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"

Danny grabs the boy's hand, lifting him up out of his chair. "Come, I rarely have guests. I would love to examine those eyes more."

"Father," Eddie spoke cheerfully. "why would you wanna see my eyes? They aren't even that pretty! Hahaha!"

"They're beautiful, Eddie. Now, we must hurry. That 'tea' won't last very long, no, not at all."

"Huhhh? What are you talking abouttt?" Eddie wobbled his way towards the other side of the table, following the Mad Hatter. "I dunno whatttt...sgghhh...waaa..."

"Hush, now. I'll make this quick."

"Huhhh? Whaaat?" Eddie questions, feeling himself being pushed against the biggest chair at the end of the table. He then saw Danny grab an eating utensil off of the table, supposedly a spoon, and holding him down by his chest. Eddie felt a sudden change of mood and began to struggle away. "No! No! No!"

"Is it already wearing off-?"

"NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO, YOU HOOLIGAN!" Eddie cried, kicking the man in the chest and flinging himself onto the table. Danny was stunned for only a moment before grabbing Eddie's ankle and yanking him back. "NO! NO! LET ME GO!"

"Have some more tea."

"MOM! DAD?! AL! PLEASE, SOMEONE! ANYONE!" Eddie screamed, kicking and pulling away from the man. "PLEASE!"

Suddenly, as if he had heard his cries, the white rabbit jumps onto the table laughing hysterically. Eddie felt a lump in his throat, almost wishing he hadn't screamed at all; Not if this man was going to kill him instead.

"YOU AGAIN, FIVE EYES?! GIVE ME A BREAK! YOU ALREADY TRY TO GET QUEEN RAY'S EYES!" He hissed at Danny. He let Eddie go, only for Zack to pick the little boy up instead. "AHAHAHA! DO SOMETHIN LIKE THAT AGAIN AND I'LL TEAR ALL YER EYES OUT!"

"Mister. Rabbit!" Eddie gushed with a grin.

"OI, DON'T BE GETTIN HAPPY ALL OF A SUDDEN! THAT REALLY TICKS ME OFF!"

"I was merely trying to checkup on his eyes!" Danny exclaimed, hiding the spoon behind his back with a sickening smile. "Believe me!"

"NOT FOR A SECOND, YA PERV!" Zack jumps from the table, holding Eddie like a sack of potatoes, and running out the back gate. Danny called for the two to come back, but neither of them had the intention to.

"Mister. Bunny-!"

"Call me Zack, lil-shit!"

"Mister. Zack!"

"ZACK!"

"No formalities?"

"WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, RICH BOY?!"

Eddie laughed at the rabbit-man's response, shaking his head. "Nevermind that! Where are we going?"

"The castle. I'm late, remember?!" Zack grumbled, swinging from branch to branch. This confused Eddie a bit, since he was supposed to be a rabbit, not a monkey.

"Oh! Yes, I do remember you saying something of the sorts."

"UGH, YA SPEAK TOO PROPER!"

"My apologies."

Eddie then remembered his stolen mask, peering at Zack's back pockets to see if it was there. However, there was no sight of it. Before he could question the bandaged man, he was dropped straight on his back. He looked up at Zack, only to see he was entering a large metal gate which led to the castle. "See ya later, lil-shit."

"Wait! My mask! Could you give it back?!" Zack doesn't answer, rushing through the entrance of the castle's garden. Eddie stood up and brushed himself off, walking inside of the beautifully decorated gate that the man had left open stupidly. Eddie shut the gate behind himself to make sure no one else could enter the castle grounds, since it was common sense. He then began to chase Zack once more. "Please! I really need it back!"

Eddie tripped over a can of red paint, spilling it out on the grass and landing face-first onto the ground. He rubbed his forehead, small tears forming in his eyes from the hit. "Ouch..."

"Ah! I'm so sorry! So sorry!"

"That voice..." Eddie's head perked up as he turns to see the boy who spoke to him. As he suspected, it was his older brother, Carl. Immediately after realizing it was him, he began sobbing. "CARL! WAAAAAAHHHH!" He grabbed onto Carl and pulled him in for a hug, ignoring the fact that he was dressed as a soldier.

"Uh-do I know you?" Carl asks, pulling the boy away from his grasp.

Eddie's eyes widen as he hears that question. "Carl...we're...brothers...! Do you not remember me?!"

Carl tilts his head, giving Eddie an odd look. "Uhm...dude. I have no idea who you are."

Eddie stood up and wiped his tears away, holding his head in his hands. "Oh goodness...I must be dreaming...!"

Carl grabs the bucket of paint and ran off towards two other soldiers that were with him. One was rather small, looking to be around six and the other was tall, looking to be sixteen. Eddie recognized them to be his brothers, George, Albert, and Carl, but they didn't seem to have the slightest clue who he was. So, instead of continuing to push them to remember, he decided to play it cool and go along with what they were doing.

"What are you three doing?" Eddie asks the boys.

"We're painting the roses red!" The littlest one, George, boomed happily. "We planted the wrong ones, so now we gotta fix them before the Queen comes and cuts off our heads!"

Eddie felt his heart splatter when he heard that. "What?!"

Albert, the oldest one, paid no mind to Eddie, continuing to paint. Carl grabbed George and led him onto a stool to paint more roses, explaining to Eddie. "That's right...we have to paint them red before we lose our heads!"

"Let me help then!" Eddie grabbed a paint brush and a bucket of paint, beginning to do the same. They all were panicked and rushing, hoping that they'd be done on time. Eddie didn't know the time limit, so made sure he did them quickly without really paying much mind to how good they looked. Little George couldn't do them very well either, considering his age, so some of them looked quite messy.

"Are you sure none of you know who I am?" Eddie asks while continuing to paint.

"You look like one of us, but no." Carl reported. He didn't take his eyes off of the brush, doing his best to paint every spot.

"Mhm! You do, you do!" George sang.

Eddie then heard some trumpets in the distance, seeing all of the color drain from his brother's faces. All three of them looked like they were terrified, hiding the paint and getting on their hands and knees, bowing. Eddie got down too, seeing that it would be silly to stay up. He gazed at his brothers, seeing that Carl was crying and the other two looked mortified. Was it really this fatal to have the roses red?

Suddenly, a whole army of soldiers lined up against the bushes and a red carpet was laid on the ground. The soldiers all had burlap masks on, exactly like the one that was stolen from Eddie. Confused, he looked up to see a beautiful young lady walking down the carpet and towards the four boys. Her dark crystal eyes were gleaming down the bushes, no facial expression was visible on her face. Carl began crying even more, which made George start to cry. Eddie knew that something was wrong.

Another trumpet was played, showing the rabbit-man who was playing it. "Announcing the Queen of Hearts! Or whatever..." he spat.

The Queen approached the four boys, coldly staring at them. "Who painted the roses red?" She bluntly asks, with no emotion at all. Her voice was quite pretty, but at the moment, Eddie dreaded it.

"I-It was my fault..." Carl lowered his head, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.

"It was my fault." Albert looked up at the Queen with a harsh glare. "Don't believe that idiot."

"A-Al!" Carl sobbed, only to have Albert shove his head to the ground.

"IT WAS ME! DON'T KILL MY LITTLE BROTHERS FOR SOMETHING I DID!" Albert thundered, now having tears rapidly streaming down his face. "I DID IT! SO JUST LEAVE THEM-!"

"Off with their heads."

Eddie's head snapped up. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His three brothers all were surrounded and dragged away, seemingly to their demise.

"NO, PLEASE NO! IT WAS MY FAULT! DON'T KILL THEM! DON'T-NO! THEY'RE JUST BABIES!" Albert screeched on the top of his lungs, begging for the Queen to let his little brother's go. However, the Queen didn't even bat an eye at his cries.

Eddie knew that he had to take action. These were his brothers afterall. Hearing them cry for mercy was enough to drive the young boy mad. "WAIT! STOP!"

The whole garden went silent. The crying stopped, the soldiers stopped, and the Queen stared at Eddie with her cold eyes. Before he could say another word, the Queen lifted his chin with her finger to get a better look at his gorgeous face. "Oh, a little boy."

"Y-Yes..." Eddie stuttered, standing up and panicking. "Please, don't k-kill them! Uhmmm...th-they're my brothers...a-and..."

The Queen's long golden hair danced behind her from the wind, staring deep into Eddie's ivy green eyes. He kept eye contact to let her know he was serious about this matter. With a small sigh, the Queen lifted a hand and the soldiers let his brothers go. "All three of you, get out of my sight."

Without another word, Albert picked little George up and grabbed Carl's hand, running away with them. Eddie remained standing tall, feeling completely overpowered by the girl. However, he didn't want that to show, so tried his best to keep his calm. "You, come with me."

Eddie followed the Queen's order, staying close behind her like a lost puppy. Each and every soldier stared at Eddie, almost sympathetically. Now Eddie felt really nervous.

"Now, where do you come from and where are you going?" The Queen asked.

"W-Well...I'm trying to find my way home-!"

"Your way? It's my way." She snapped, her blue eyes looking piercing.

"Y-Yes, you're right, b-but I was thinking-!"

"Bow when you're thinking. It saves more time."

"Yes, your majesty..." Eddie bows.

"No need to call me in formalities. I like you. You may call me Rachel." She informs him before beginning to walk again.

"O-Okay, I was only g-going to ask you-!"

"I ask the questions," Rachel grabs Eddie's hand, giving him a fake smile. "Do you dance?"

"Why, yes, your maj-I mean, Rachel." Eddie stammered, flustered by the touch. He was rarely touched so gently after all. Her hands felt like ice, just as her stare and heart. She leads him inside the ball room, many soldiers following behind.

"I would like you to dance with me," Rachel spoke in a tender tone, placing one of her hands on his cheek. "You are very charming...what was your name?"

"Edward...but people call me Eddie more often..." he blushed heavily, looking away. "You may call me whatever you'd like..."

"Eddie..." Rachel repeated slowly placing her hand on his shoulder and grabbing his other one. "What a beautiful name."

Eddie looked away briefly before placing his hand on her hip and holding her hand. "Thank you, R-Rachel..."

"Music." Rachel hissed at the servants, only for them to run and put it on. She smiled at Eddie once more, beginning to dance with him. It would be a lie for him to say he didn't enjoy it, but he was terrified of messing up. Her hands were so small and her stare was adoring but cold. She really seemed like a doll that a little girl would own. He peered away from her eyes for a moment, seeing that Zack was tearing up his mask for all to see. Eddie felt an overwhelming sense of anger and fear, wanting it back as soon as possible.

"Ah, Rach-!"

"Hush now, Eddie."

"But-!"

"Hush."

"GIVE IT BACK!" Eddie finally yelled, letting go of Rachel and jumping onto Zack. He began biting and scratching, desperately wanting his burlap mask back. By the time he got ahold of it, it was almost completely destroyed. Eddie fell to his knees, holding the mask close to his chest and thinking about the day he got it. "W-Waaahh...I WANNA GO HOME!"

Zack picks Eddie up by the collar of his shirt, giving him a good punch to the stomach before throwing him back towards the Queen. Eddie held his stomach in pain, coughing violently.

"Off with his head."

"R-Rachel..." Eddie sobbed. "Please...I-I wanna...I WANNA GO HOME!"

The soldiers began to surround him, reaching out towards him to pick him up and drag him out. He shut his eyes tightly, knowing that he was doomed.

"Edward!"

Eddie opened his eyes with a small gasp, hearing his mother's voice calling for him. The soldiers were still reaching for him, so he quickly crawled underneath their legs and began running towards the voice. "Mother! Mother!" He cried, looking back to see a crowd of black and white suits chasing him.

"Edward!"

"MOMMA!" He sobbed, rushing through the tea party, the caterpillar's smoke, the flowerbed, the forest, all the way back to the small door where it all began. He slammed his hands against it, shaking the door knob violently. "LET ME OUT! LET ME GO! I WANNA GO HOME!"

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

Eddie took one look back at everyone chasing him, letting out one more scream. "MOM!"

And just like that,

Eddie woke up.

"Edward, are you even listening-?!"

"MOMMA!" Eddie bawled, jumping into her arms and holding her tight. His mother was shocked from these sudden tears, but nevertheless, wiped them away. "M-Momma...*sniffle*...mommy..."

"It's alright, my dear." His mother coaxed, patting his head delicately. "Shhh..."

After a short while of comforting Eddie, his mother grabbed his hand and her book, patting his ginger locks once again. "Edward, it's nearly three o'clock. Time for tea."

Eddie picks Sadie up, holding her close to his chest with a small sniffle and sigh. "Yes, mother."

✿        ✿       ✿       ✿        ✿        ✿       ✿       ✿      

[Author's note: That took a long time and I am NOT editing a 6935 worded AU nOPE- I hope you all enjoyed! Sorry for not updating more frequently ♡♡♡]

The cast:

Eddie as Alice: Woah, okay. That was fun. I loved how proper and sweet he was! Such a kind gentleman throughout it all~❤

Zack as the White Rabbit: Okay, this fit him 👏so👏damn👏well👏 I loved writing his character throughout this! He was a wild card, that's for sure~❤

Shin as Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum: I just HAD to add these two in, they fit PERFECTLY. I hardly ever write about them in the first place, so this was a great opportunity! Never steal from a grave-keeper~❤

The girl as the White Rose: Loved this role for her, so sweet, so kind, so talented~❤

Cathy as the Caterpillar: Sass. Sass all day. Didn't even let my poor boy finish a sentence. ✋😔

Gray as the Cheshire Cat: THE CHESHIRE CAT WAS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER AND STILL IS (other than Alice) SO I LOVED WRITING HIS CHARACTER~❤

Danny as the Mad Hatter: Creepy. As. Crap. I made him creepy as much as possible, since I didn't want him to be TOTALLY crazy, still rational and smart. I did like writing his character as well~❤

Rachel as the Queen of Hearts: She slayed it 🖤❤🖤❤🖤

The Mason bros as the Soldiers: This made me tear up Q^Q They really do care for each other...❤

Old man as the doorknob: Almost forgot him! Ahhh, he was so heartwarming to write about! Yes, this is the old man from Zack's backstory! ❤

Thank you so much for reading, I love you all! ❤

[llogllady99]

INTERMISSION

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Hange, Petra, Nanaba, Mike, Eld, Gunther, Oluo, Moblit

RELATIONSHIPS | Erwin x Levi

Genre | Reincarnation, Afterlife

IV | Afterlife, Hurt/Comfort, Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. Alternate Universe - Modern Setting/ Reincarnation, Fluff, Reunions, Introspection.

SUMMARY | Levi dies and reunites with Erwin and the others in the Afterlife. 

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

It was one of those sunny days that Levi passed away. The kind of days that occurred in the middle of summer, sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky, beaming with light in all directions; its yellow rays placing gentle kisses and giving shape to everything around them. A breeze blew gently, ruffling the blades of overgrown grass, flowers, and other plants that were blooming by a pristine and crystalline river. A river so clean and fresh that even the tiniest of rocks could be visible. Southern Magnolias, Flowering Dogwoods, birch, and oak trees lined the river and gardens of the people resided in the area. On such particular days, Levi could be found gardening away his late adulthood; his garden was the most clean and organised with freshly mowed lawn and colourful flowers, trees, and bushes placed meticulously around the alleyway that lead to the entrance of the house, the backyard, by his windows and entrances, and inside the house. Therefore, it should have been no surprise when Levi spent his last day doing exactly that: cleaning, organising, and arranging things.

It came unexpectedly, like death often does. It should have upset Levi, he was still considered too young to die by the rest of the world, but he himself couldn’t have been more happier, more relieved, and at peace. It had started with a soft breeze, blowing through his now white strands of hair that were still arranged in the same familiar undercut and under his white cotton dress shirt that was a bit oversized. Then came a wave of unfamiliar fatigue, causing Levi to lie on his back on the grass, his eyes now on the sapphire sky, watching the different sized clouds move along in slow motion. Somehow he knew his time had come, he always had great intuition. With black now cornering his vision, the man closed his eyes, letting the sun rest gently on his face, warming him one last time. He smelled the sweet aroma of his flowers, he listened to the almost silent buzz of a bee in the distance, appreciating the things he had become so used to. Finally ready, Levi inhaled deeply, and with a contented smile spreading on his tired and wrinkled face, exhaled slowly as everything went black, sounds and sensations ebbing away gradually.

However, the world didn’t stop, the sun still shone, the birds still sang their relaxing songs, their high pitched chirps sounding through the valleys, the wind still blew, and the clouds in the sky still travelled their never ending journey; a perfect day for humanity’s strongest soldier to pass away.

-

Levi was now engulfed in deep darkness, thick and relentless. Silence reigning over the infinite void. It wasn’t a heavy silence or an uncomfortable one but rather comforting and warm, making him feel at peace in god knows how long. He looked down at his hands, they weren’t wrinkly anymore but soft and smooth again. He was back in his original form, his old inky black hair hanging daintily on his forehead, his cheekbones once again high and sharp, his eyes now a strong grey steel, and his lips rosy red. His body was also young again. Now that he was in this purgatory of sorts, a giant screen appeared in front of him, displaying moments from his life in chronological order. He saw himself as a baby, his mother cutting for the first time his hair in an undercut, his mother telling him stories, embracing him, loving him. Then came her death, her horrible death, leaving Levi alone. His uncle Kenny made his appearance on the screen, taking him under his care, teaching him how to fight and defend himself after walking away never to be seen again. It showed how he met Isabell and Furlan, the days they spent together in the underground. The blonde boy reading to them by the fire, Isabell snoring in Levi’s lap, his hands in her hair, twisting the ginger strands, Levi defending the redhead in a fight, and Isabell telling them jokes one night whilst playing cards. All of the precious moments now unfolding before his eyes. It made Levi’s heart swell with happiness at seeing their faces again. He had forgotten their faces after so much time but seeing them now reminded him of their bond, their brother like bond. Then he joined the survey corps and shit hit the fan.

Next came memories of joining the survey corps, of seeing Erwin for the first time, their first kiss, first time making love, moving in the same room together, going out with his comrades, Hange, Nanaba, Mike, Moblit, everyone made an appearance on the screen. Then came the brats, their round baby faces and bright eyes full of determination. Retaking wall Maria. Erwin’s death…

It displayed the four years in between their battles. The years when he moved in with Hange and having tea with them every other afternoon before making the plans for the attack on Liberio. The shit show started, the whole fucking rumbling, Eren going batshit crazy, Mikasa killing him, and them staying behind in Marley. His friendship blossoming with the other two brats and finally tasting true freedom, a world with no walls where the sky was the limit. Other sequences also played, like how he returned to Paradis, Gabi and Falco’s visits, who were now married and living happily in some exotic country, and then the day he died. He would have argued he lived a beautiful life, one which he certainly didn’t regret, but after Erwin’s and Hange’s death his only purpose was to survive the day, get through it and ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

If this was the after life, why wasn’t anyone here? Did he do something wrong? Where was Erwin? Didn’t he promise he’ll be waiting for him? For the first time in the darkness, Levi felt suffocated, he couldn’t breathe, the overwhelming feeling he did something wrong washed over him, imbuing his every cell and tissue. Luckily, before he could finish that destructive train of thought, a glimmer of white appeared in the distance. As the small dot got bigger and bigger, Levi realised it was some kind of vortex that was sucking everything in it, including him. It sucked in his feet first then his hips, stomach, arms and finally his head. Everything went white around him, his spirit was travelling with so much speed that he felt he was inside an airplane engine, the turbines spinning faster and faster, the noise getting louder and louder, and finally the plane took off. As the noise reached its apex, Levi’s surroundings became silent until he was pushed out of the vortex and into the afterlife, the one in which his comrades also seemed to be.

Levi landed bottom first and with a thud, his backside coursing with pain. He flinched and got up. He scanned his surrounding and noticed that in the far off distance there was a group of people. Relief washed over his entire being as the feelings of panic and loneliness left him entirely. One by one he willed his feet to move, each step becoming more hurried, until he broke out in a run. The shape of the group was getting bigger and bigger as Levi closed the distance between them. The closer he got, the more he could make out their faces. Wait! Was that blonde and messy brown? Hange and Erwin? Happiness started blossoming in his chest, like a bush of Camelias in spring, the flowers opening up more and more, becoming bigger and bigger covering the whole green bush with their beautiful pure white and milky pink. A smile grazed his features and tears started falling down his face, each droplet streaming down his jawline then falling on the ground behind him.

“Erwin!” Levi shouted, finally getting his lover’s attention. Erwin turned, wide eyed as he recognised his voice and broke into one of his famous full mouth grins. He extending his arms, inviting the raven in. Levi gladly took that invitation, jumping on Erwin and sending both of them tumbling down, wrapping his arms tightly around the blonde, sniffling that familiar cent of cologne and tobacco. “You waited for me! I can’t believe you waited.”

“Of course I did, in fact all of us did. Look around Levi, we’re all here.” Levi lifted his face and looked around, his eyes landing on Hange grinning maniacally at him, Nanaba and Mike close to each other, Moblit, and his squad.

“Heya guys! Long time no see I guess.” Levi stood up from Erwin and made his way in between the group, taking everyone’s faces in. They were all here. He looked in Hange’s direction, they now looked truly happy without a care in the world. He approached them and wrapped them in a tight embrace, one which he so seldom offered when they were alive.

“Hey short stuff. Gotta admit watching over ya from up here got kinda boring. You were never up to any shenanigans, you just sat there all day reading your damn newspaper and drinking that awful tea.” Hange playfully reprimanded him. Levi snorted then play kicked their feet. Petra came up and hugged him from behind, burying her soft ginger hair between his shoulder blades. She inhaled shakily and choked out:

“Missed you so much, Levi Heichou.” Levi turned around and tucked some of her hair behind her year, setting his hand on her cheek, rubbing with one thumb a tear that spilled from her left eye. The raven then wrapped her tightly in the same hug he’d given Hange, burying her small head in his shoulder. “Missed you too.”

Mike came up and sniffed his hair, his nose scrunching up taking up as much of the sent as possible and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to pin point the smells. He then patted Levi on the shoulder and told him:

“You still smell the same, maybe except with a hint of a flowery touch to it.”

“Always so romantic.” Levi replied, shaking his hand like brothers do. Nanaba came up behind Mike and offered him one of her beautiful smiles. “Great seeing you Levi, but Mike,” she then grabbed the tall man’s hand pulling him towards her, “it’s time for us to go.”

“Go where?” Levi asked frantically, he just got here why were they going already?

“We will get reincarnated, me, Mike, and Erwin.” Nanaba replied casually as if it was the most natural thing. Levi started hyperventilating.

“Why?” He croaked. “I just got here, you can’t go! Not yet! Erwin please don’t go!” He looked around and found the blonde standing next to Mike, he grabbed his hand tightly, urging him not to go, however it was for nothing as his lover wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t Levi, my time has come.” Erwin grabbed both of his hand and kissed his knuckles and fingers, rubbing them against his cheek. “I need you to watch over me and when your time comes too, join me. We’ll meet again, in a world with no titans and infinite time on our hands. We will truly be happy there.”

“Fine, but promise me you won’t do anything stupid Erwin. Wait for me.” Levi demanded, raising himself on his tip toes and pulling Erwin down for a passionate kiss. After they parted, Erwin stepped next to Nanaba and Mike again and waved his big hand at the others before all three of them vanished from sight.

Over time, the same exact thing happened to the others. Eld and Gunther went, shortly followed by Auruo, the other people also gradually disappearing to god knows where. After some time, only him, Hange, Petra, and Moblit were left. Now it seemed that Moblit’s time had come too, if the bear hug he gave Hange was anything to go by. Offering them one last kind smile, Moblit vanished, leaving now only the three of them. Hange cried that day, harder than he ever saw them do it and Petra rested her head on Levi’s shoulder, sorrow and longing also emanating from her being. For a few years, all they could do was watch. Watch Erwin’s seventh birthday party, Mike and Nanaba chewing on their toys, Eld being adopted, guess he didn’t have much luck in this life either, Gunther ride his bike, Auruo playing his first song on the piano and so on. On a not so special day, when they resumed their seats and watched over the others, Hange stood up and with a kind smile and wave their hand they vanished too. Levi cried and so did Petra, they missed their friend dearly but it was bound to happen. A few short months after Petra also left, leaving Levi alone, drowning in the familiar feeling of loneliness.

A month after, Levi got visitors in the after life, they were Armin, Mikasa, and Annie. They greeted their captain and took their seats next to him, joining him in watching over his friends.

“I guess now I have you brats to watch over me when I’ll go down there.” He joked, getting a pat on the back from Armin.

“Hopefully, in the next life I won’t be a midget anymore, You guys don’t know how fucking hard that has been for me.” That earned him a laugh from all of them. Over the next two months all of them got closer together, Armin and Mikasa telling him about how his death impacted everyone. Apparently it has been a national funeral, all the nobles and even queen gathering around his coffin. How ironic.

One day, Levi woke up groggier than usual and much more heavy. It felt as if the ground was pulling him towards it. It was no doubt: his time had come. Armin was the only one that was watching the world down below, Mikasa and Annie sleeping soundly a few feet away. Levi sat next to him and cleared his throat, redirecting the blonde’s attention to him.

“This reincarnation thing is so beautiful, getting a second chance in a world not as cruel as ours.” Armin began. “I’m glad we aren’t stuck here forever, it gets more boring every day.”

“Try doing that shit for seven years.”

“That’s really long. I can’t stand this place anymore and I’ve only been here for what? Two months? If you don’t mind me asking, who was the first to go?” Armin asked, a little bit shy in case he was prying too much.

“Erwin.” Armin’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I just got here and he was already gone. But now is my time and I’ll finally be reunited with him.” Levi stood up and grabbed Armin’s hand also pulling him to his feet. “See ya Armin, you were always my favourite cadet.”

Bringing his fists and arms to his chest, delivering his last salute to the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, he vanished, white clouding his vision. Everything went black afterwards.

-

The next time Levi opened his eyes, he was crying his eyes out and shouting like a mad man, his little legs and arms kicking and moving in all directions. He had been born into the new world.

Notes: 

A song I would recommand while reading the fic is It's been a long, long time. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read it and notes and comments are welcomed, Obviously, I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters that take part in it. They are inspiration for my works and I love them to the core. Thank you again lovelies for taking the time to read it! <333

[bunnyywritings]

almost out of time

kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader [hanahaki!au]

[a/n: here’s the kuroo angst I was talking about yesterday, I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you again @shinaus for helping me decide an ending 🥺 -yours truly, bunnyy-`ღ´- ]

warnings: some mentions of blood and hospital stuff, nothing too explicit though

You had joined the volleyball club on a whim, a friend saying something about how being in a manager position would look good on university applications. You didn’t account for falling in love with him.

Kuroo Tetsurō.

He was a dork and a tease. You don’t think he really knew what he was doing. All the hugs and small touches were purely that, platonic ways of showing affection. He didn’t know what it was doing to your heart. He didn’t know that what he was doing was making the pain worse.

A groan left your lips as you leaned against the edge of the toilet bowl. A concoction of blood and flower petals swirling around in the water. In some twisted way...it looked hauntingly beautiful but it was just another reminder that he didn’t feel the same way, that he could never feel the same way.

You slowly got back on your feet, knees creaking painfully as you did. With a grimace, you flushed the contents of the toilet and made your way out of the stall. Twisting the faucet and cupping your hands under the cool water, bringing it to your dry lips and drinking some of it. You swished it around in your mouth before spitting it out.

After making sure to apply some chapstick to your lips, you made your way to the gym. You paused at the entrance once the familiar hyena laughter filled your ears. You watched as Kuroo doubled over with laughter, presumably at something the spiky haired boy had said.

‘That’s right, they have a practice match today…’ you thought to yourself as you admired the huge grin that split his lips, he looked so -

“Senpai?” The sudden intrusion to your thoughts made you jump before you looked up to the source. “What’re you doing out here? Practice is starting soon.” Lev had tilted his head to the side, it made him look like an oversized kitten.

“Uhm right, I-I was just about to c-come in.” You stuttered, quickly slipping on your gym shoes and walking into the gym.

“Oh (y/n)! There you are!” Kuroo sped over to you and threw an arm around your shoulders. “You’ve gotta come meet Bokuto.” His excitement was palpable as he steered you towards who you assumed was Bokuto.

Kuroo watched as Bokuto instantly started to immediately throw compliments your way, he watched how they made you blush and how that shy little smile of yours made an appearance. There was a small ache in his chest that made his face drop slightly.

Kenma watched the train wreck from the sidelines, eyes widening in surprise as he saw the edges of Kuroo’s lips twitch downward. Now Kenma knew that you harbored romantic feelings for his best friend, you had never explicitly told him but he figured it out. As far as he knew, Kuroo didn’t return those feelings.

Was he wrong?

He shook the thought out of his head once the coach blew the whistle and the match was set to begin.

Throughout the practice match, you cheered the team on. Kenma had seen you hand Kuroo his water bottle with an expectant smile but he blindly grabbed the bottle as he shouted someone over to Bokuto and Akaashi about winning the next match. Your smile had fallen slightly as you started to hand the others their own water bottles.

He was gonna go back to his psp but something you did caught his eye.

Eyes widening at the sudden feeling of nausea, you subtly gripped your stomach before relaxing and turning to Yaku, excusing yourself with a smile and briskly walking out of the gym. Once the cool evening air hit your skin, you went behind the gym and gripped the brick wall for support as you leaned over and expelled the contents of your stomach. No surprise when your eyes met the bloodied flower petals painting the grass.

Kenma was never really one to be nosy but he was slightly concerned with you so he followed you out of the gym. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you spewing up blood and...white daffodil petals?

“(Y-Y/n)?” He called out, quickly making his way over to you.

You were surprised to feel him gently rub your back but welcomed the action.

His suspicions were confirmed.

“(Y/n)...do you have hanhaki?” He asked quietly, watching as you hesitated before nodding. “Is it because of Kuroo?” Your shoulders drooping was response enough.

“Please don’t-“

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He sighed.

A week after that happened, you missed school for a couple of days.

What the team hadn’t known, was that you were in a hospital bed. Blooming flowers sprouting from your lungs. You were set to have the removal surgery in a day, you had 24 hours until your feeling for Kuroo would be completely gone.

Did you want that?

Sure, you were in pain but...the way the butterflies felt was addicting. The way your heart raced at his smile was one of your favorite feelings.

You didn’t want them to go away.

Kenma found out where you were when he had gone to visit your home and your mother had tearfully told him that you were in the hospital.

Despite it raining, Kenma booked it out of your house and raced over to Kuroo’s. He knocked excessively until the door finally opened.

“Geez I said I’d be right the-“ Kuroo paused at the sight of his friend, soaked. His cheeks were red and he was heaving for oxygen. “Kenma? What the hell?” He knew it had to be something serious.

Kenma never ran.

“(Y/n)....h-hospital...no time!” He was gasping for air between words.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, you were in the hospital….

“Fuck Kenma!” He shouted, running in to grab his keys and quickly slip on his shoes. “You’re explaining what the hell is going on! Let’s go!”

So as Kuroo sped over to the hospital, definitely breaking a few laws, Kenma explained what was going on. The crush, the flower petals, the procedure, all of it.

Kuroo had never really thought much about it, did he like you?

Satisfied with his haphazard parking job, both boys raced into the hospital.

“Please, we’re looking for (L/n)! (Y/n) (L/n)! It’s urgent!” The nurse was startled at the sudden shouting from the tall boy but she could see and hear the desperation from them so she complied and gave them the room number and watched as the two ran down the hallway.

“(Y/n)-“ both boys froze.

You were laid in the hospital bed, you were a sickly pale color, you had an I.V stuck in your arm and a breathing tube in your nose. A flower had sprouted from the veins in your wrist, vines twisting up your forearms and biceps. The last nail in the coffin was the x-ray photos on display. Your lungs were filled with flowers and blood.

It was like the universe was playing some type of sick joke. You were sickly, you felt and looked like death but the flowers sprouting from your skin were breathtakingly beautiful. They were almost mocking you. Flowers that meant love and beauty were the fruits of an unrequited love, nap a one sided love.

They watched as your eyes opened and widened. “W-why are you here?” You croaked pitifully, coughing up a few aconitum petals.

Aconitum flowers are also known to symbolize misanthropy and death.

Kuroo gasped, it felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest as realization hit him like a bullet train. Images of your smile and your laughter filled his head, the feeling of you in his arms...the butterflies and the way his heart raced-

But before either boy could say anything, the doctor had come in and asked them to leave because you were scheduled for surgery.

“N-NO! Wait...please!” He was gently pushed out of the room by a few nurses. “NO! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND-“

“Sir, please lower your voice. You’re disturbing other patients.” The nurse scolded him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he helplessly watched you being prepped for transfer.

Kenma saw the desperation in his friend’s eyes. “Kuroo wait-“ before he could stop him, the captain pushed past the nurse and bolted into your room. You had your hospital shirt opened slightly as the doctor used his stethoscope. The veins on your chest were tinted a black color. The doctor threatened to call security but paused when you muttered at him to refrain from doing so.

“I don’t doubt that Kenma already told you but I don’t want your pity...it’ll just make all of this worse.”

“I-“ Kuroo took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I know that but this isn’t pity (y/n).” The butterflies erupted in your stomach as he approached you, his own butterflies were starting to flutter around too. “I don’t know how or why it took me this long to realize it but...I love you!” He gently held your face in his hands, and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m here now.” You were practically sobbing as you placed your palms over his hands. You could instantly feel yourself able to breath better than before, the pain in your body subsiding.

“I love you too Kuroo.” He leaned forward and softly smushed his lips to yours, movements gentle and careful as if you’d break if he were too rough.

Maybe the universe wasn’t so cruel after all.

gєиєяαℓ тαgℓιѕт (open): @yuiji-yuiji @ohbois-biggay-bnha

[angellissy]

late night adventures

Based on this request by my lovely friend @darkrosekuwonu :  Hi me again situation kisses 6 screams jj energy so much idk how to handle it when you have time pls feel free to fuck me up with it💕 6.Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys JJ Maybank x Reader A/N: First and foremost, I have gained some new followers and I just wanted to say a big thank you!! I am actually pretty happy with this imagine, I hope it turned out okay according to the situation :) Remember that I am open for request, either from the prompt list or just whatever ideas you might have. I love to write so just hit me with em’.  Your hand was clammy if it was from the adrenaline rushing through your veins or from the fact that your body was pressed against your boyfriend’s, you didn’t know. Most likely a mixture. His uneven breath was warm against your neck, sending tingles through your whole body. One of his arms was wrapped around your shoulders, he was pushing the two of you lower to the ground. “Can you explain one more time why we are hiding behind a bush?” You whispered, he turned his head towards you, grinning widely at your confusion. “We’re here on a secret mission.” A small sigh left your lips, of course you were. “On whose behalf?” “Humanity.” His fingers slipped into yours, and once again he turned to look into your eyes, a small smirk still playing on his lips. “Why are your hands so sweaty? Nervous to be around me princess?” You scoffed at him while rolling your eyes. “Maybe because my boyfriend dragged me out to a random house in the middle of the night.” 

“It’s like ten pm, you’re telling me you had better things to do?” His response made you playfully nudge him, however, due to lack of balance, it caused both of you to fall down on the grass. Droplets of water from the last storm still hanging on to the green straws made your light blue jean shorts turn a shade darker. “Why’d you do that?” He groaned, propping himself up from the grass and then holding his hand out for you to take. “I didn’t mean too silly, I just forgot that we were on a top-secret mission.” His warm fingers wrapped around yours as he pulled you up, his other hand soon traveled down to your legs, wiping of all of the excess dirt. “JJ.” You warned him as his hand found it’s way to your ass. “What? Your pants were dirty.” You swatted his hands away and rolled your eyes at him. “Hmm, sure thing.” “Listen carefully now, we are gonna sneak into the party.-” You narrowed your eyes at the house in front of you. “There’s a party in there? It looks dead.” Your interruption made him let out a heavy sigh. “That’s what they want you to think, but you have to listen in order for this plan to succeed.” “Okay, okay officer.” He gave you a weird look when you said that and you had to stifle the laugh that was threatening to slip through your lips. “JJ please tell me that you didn’t get turned on by that.” He holds his hands up in defense “Am I supposed not too? My super hot girlfriend just called me an officer, that does things to a guy princess.” You were pretty sure that only applied to him, but you would let him have it. Maybe because he had just called you super hot, and frankly that made you feel some things too. “The plan is that we are gonna go in there, pretend we know people there and then we’ll steal the weed.” His words left a confident smile on his lips, one you did not return. “And this is why we let Pope plan everything, but please enlighten me on why you are going to steal weed?” He looked at you through furrowed brows and brought a hand up to his head, setting the red cap back to place. Fuck, why did he have to look so good in the simplest of things? You bit your lip, unbeknownst to you, that made him think the exact thing too. “They stole it from me, some stupid kooks at the last party thought they could just take it. So we’re gonna take it back, and I heard from some very reliable sources that they would be partying here tonight.” You groaned at his explanation, nothing of this made sense. There was no way that a bunch of kooks was partying in a worn-out house almost in the middle of the woods. But when you looked at JJ, determination shone through his eyes, and you didn’t want to take this adventure away from him. No matter how stupid it might be. You trudged forward, pulling his arm to make him come with you. He gave you a small smile “That’s my girl.” You shook his head at him, trying to ignore the blush that crept up onto your cheeks. The closer you came to the house, the more apparent it became that there was, in fact, a party inside those walls. Loud music was blasting through speakers, and you were sure that you could hear people chanting. Your grip on his hand became just a little bit tighter, making sure that he wasn’t gonna leave your side once you stepped in. “I’m not gonna leave you all alone in a room full of random people princess, don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring grin just as he stepped into the house, dragging him with you. Oh boy, you had really been wrong before. This place was bigger than what it looked from the outside and it was filled with kooks, pogues, and everything in between. You recognized some people, it wasn’t surprising since everybody’s paths seemed to cross every once in a while. JJ said hello to some people, no doubt trying to blend in before putting the plan into action. The two of you came further and further into the crowd, elbows and hands were digging into your sides. A small “ouf” slipped past your lips as you walked straight into JJ’s chest, seeing as he had stopped walking. His arms snaked around your waist and he started to move to the beats of the music. “Why are you slow dancing to a hip hop song?” You yelled, trying to make your voice heard over the loud song. He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m blending in and trying to spot the dudes that stole my.-” A flash of panic suddenly clouded his eyes. “Kiss me!” You were taken aback by his words, so you simply let out a “What.” “Those dudes, I think they’re looking at me and I need you to kiss me so they don’t see my face.” He pulled you closer, his hands were drawing circles on your lower back. You didn’t know if he noticed that he did that, but from your observations, it seemed to be something he tended to do when he was getting stressed out. “I thought you wanted to find them?” His face was moving closer to yours, and the butterflies in your stomach started going crazy. You had been dating for almost a year, but whenever he came close to you, your body just reacted. “Yes, but I didn’t want them to find me, and I don’t wanna risk getting into a fight. Gotta take care of my girl right?” Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him close enough for your lips to finally touch. When his lips brushed hers, she could feel the taste of her own strawberry chapstick. The taste must have lingered since the last kiss they shared. His fingers dug into her back, trying to intertwine their bodies even more. JJ Maybank was like the sea, glistening and beautiful on the outside, becoming even more gorgeous as rays of sunshine grazed the surface. But he was also mysterious and complicated, the depth of his feelings seemed to go on forever. That didn’t stop you from diving right in. So when his tongue found it’s way past your lips, you curled your toes. Just as you would’ve done if you had been standing knee-deep in the sea, toes curling against the sand, trying to stop you from losing balance and tumbling right down. Still, when he deepened the kiss further, waves of various feelings crashed into you, and so you lost your balance and tumbled right into the sea that was the boy that held your heart. You tilted your head back, gasping for air, though he saw it as an opportunity to plant kisses on the bare skin of your neck. “I think they are gone now, we should continue with the plan.” You whispered, still trying to fill your lungs with the air they lacked. His lips came closer to yours “Fuck the plan.” He breathed before reattaching your lips, the air in his lungs mixed with yours, making you hold onto the kiss longer. That’s the thing, everything was better when shared, no matter if it was adventures or kisses that made you lose your footing. 

[jooniperhun]

The End of the Rainbow | ot7 (1)

pairing: tall!black!reader x bts, poc!reader x bts, woc!reader x bts, black!reader x bts

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to (maybe) lovers [later], romance [later], comedy, misunderstandings [later], (slight) angst [later], smut (maybe??) [later], idol!au

rating: PG-14

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

notes: the boys won’t make an appearance until chapter 2 but there is some foreshadowing in there (hint hint); pretend that corona never happened; most of the geographical locations/distances will either be made up or not named because I’ve never been to Korea lol whoops; this reads more like a reader-insert sorry that’s my default writing setting; and the boys’ backstories and such won’t be all that accurate because I’m the author and I say so teehee :)

“Text like this is spoken in Korean.”

“Text like this is spoken in English.”

summary: Your current job as a travelling housesitter has taken you to many places, some strange and many wonderful. When the acquisition of a new client takes you to Korea for three months, you wonder if your self-esteem can survive being around so many other-worldly looking people. Also, not to be paranoid or anything, but maybeperhaps you’re being stalked by the same seven strangers? They’re pretty loud and always surrounded by a tonne of people, so you write it off the first few times.

But this shit is getting excessive, chile. And annoying…

Rhetorical question, but what lies at the end of a rainbow? You hope that it’s a pot of gold, but with the way that your luck has soured, it might just be seven short(er than you), rowdy leprechauns ready to flip your world sideways…

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Usually, when it came to social outings, ___ would go out of her way to make sure that she looked her best. Her wild mane would be tamed, her makeup would be carefully, painstakingly applied, and her clothes wouldn’t hold a single wrinkle. This, however, isn’t ‘usually’— this is an airport, and ___ currently couldn’t find it within herself to give a single, flying fuck about her appearance after the flight that she had just had. 

That isn’t to say that it was terrible— she was flying first class, for Christ’s sake! Not to mention that she didn’t have to spend a single dime on it (excluding the multiple new outfits and lashes that she purchased for herself because if she was anything, it was slightly vain). But a roughly 18 hour flight, combined with slight motion sickness? It doesn’t matter how comfortably she had dressed, or how attentive the flight attendants were, or how delicious the food was— ___ walked off of the landing strip probably looking exactly as she felt (read: terrible). 

Luckily, the good thing about airports was that she wasn’t the only one. No one paid her any mind, too worried about themselves and finding their respective luggages and families to be giving some rando more than a passing glance. 

She was officially in Seoul, South Korea, and she couldn’t read a damn thing.

Okay— slight exaggeration. Most of the signs had English (and Spanish, and Chinese, and Japanese) translations beneath the larger blocks of Korean, but her damn near-blind ass missed that the first time around. 

The airport looked as airports tended to look— large, modern, and clean. There was a beautiful netting of glass in the ceiling that let gentle rays of sunlight in. The walls were similarly comprised of the netting design and slanted outwards, away from all of the passengers. Statues and abstract constructions divided the masses. People from all walks of life milled around, looking for their luggage or anxiously waiting for their plane to arrive.

Incheon International Airport, Terminal One, Flight DL27. ___ reminded herself over and over of the number of where she would go for Baggage Claim, scanning the area and mumbling slightly to herself. She adjusted her dark shades and hefted her purse (her only carry-on) higher onto her shoulders, following the crush of fellow passengers into the depths of the fragile looking place. 

There were a lot of people walking around with black facemasks and shades on, so she was glad that she wasn’t the only shady-looking sista walking around. Inwardly snorting at her own pun, ___ nearly walked past her destination. 

It was honestly this part of each trip that gave her the most anxiety— that is, waiting for her suitcase to come around on the conveyor belt.

She had heard and read multiple horror stories about too many passengers never recovering their luggage. Either stolen, lost, or dropped from the airplane itself— if it could go wrong, it went wrong. But it’s not like hers’ is particularly interesting to look at. It was a simple, standard black. Only a red, knotted ribbon tied around the handle marked it as her own.

Ten minutes of fretful bag checking later, ___ finally found it. She gave a silent sigh of relief and turned towards the exit. Then, her anxiety flared right back up when she realized that she would have to hail a taxi to get to her destination. 

Honestly, her people-meter was getting a little bit too full for her to actually be initiating direct human interaction right now. 

But she would persevere! Even if her persistence could use a bit of work, she’s faked confidence enough times to make it. 

Getting a taxi to stop for her was like pulling teeth. By the time that she had stuffed her menial baggage into the trunk and clambered into the front seat, her temper had risen a few notches. She’s had a long two days. The flight wasn’t kind on her stomach or her sleep schedule— not to mention the fact that she felt disgusting. A shower sounded so nice right now… She didn’t want to be on the streets any longer than she had to be, dammit!

Donning her ‘Customer Service’ voice (as she liked to call it), she politely rattled off her destination to the driver in Korean. He was on the younger side for the profession (at least, from what she’s seen), with neatly laid dark hair and slightly tanned skin. His dark eyes constantly shifted from the road to her when they were stopped for traffic, but he luckily seemed to sense her mood as he did not say anything more than the polite initial greeting. 

All in all, it was a 30 minute drive filled with determinedly unawkward silence. ___ sent a quick text to her employer to inform them that she would be at the house in a bit, then sent another to her mother to let her know that she touched down safely. Almost immediately, her phone began to buzz.

Rolling her eyes, ___ answered. “Good morning to you too, Ma.” She said as her full lips tilted up in amusement. Upon hearing the English, the driver sent another glance in her direction.

“Hey, baby! It’s night time for us right now (we just got finished eating dinner). How was your flight?” Her mother’s voice gave a slightly tinny echo as she spoke, and the sound of shifting fabric clued ___ in to the fact that she, indeed, was probably on the toilet.

“Tiring. I forgot to buy Dramamine, so it was a fun time for me.” She switched hands with her phone so that she could look out of her window more comfortably. Little snatches of the city flashed by before they turned into a slightly more residential area. The houses here were large and gated, yet closely located. “How is everyone doing? No-one dead yet, right?”

Her mother snorted. “Yet is correct. Turns out, ya’ sister got herself a lil boyfriend—” ___ had to stifle her laugh before she gave herself away, “— and ya’ daddy wasn’t too happy when he found out. Her fast ass is sitting in her room right now, phone taken and everything. Woulda’ gotten an ass whoopin if we found anything triflin’ in it, but she’s clean.” Yeah, only because of her advice. No sending nudes back and forth, no secret folders dedicated to trifling shit, and no conversations going further than normal teen-girl gossip. Those were her three cardinal rules to sneaking around with a boy, and it seems that her little sister had done well to heed them.

“And the lil’ boy? Anyone we know?” ___ asked, playing along. If her parents found out she already knew about him, her ass would be grass, too. 

“Yes!” Ma exclaimed frustratedly. The driver jumped at the sudden loud sound in the otherwise silent car. “That nigga, Devin. Lives a block down from us? You know the one.” She gave the appropriate gasp at the news while rolling her eyes. Devin was a sweet boy who had a good future ahead of himself. There was no goddamn way she would waste her painstakingly gathered advice on someone who wasn’t good for her sister.

“Dam— I mean, wow. You think you know the people you live around...” She caught herself quickly before she cursed. Even halfway across the world, her fear of her ma’s wrath was still very, very healthy.

“I heard that, but I’ll let it slide this time.” Her mother’s tone was amused despite her previous outrage. 

“Anyways, as I was saying… I don’t see anything wrong with Devin. He was a nice boy, last time I talked to him.” From the cover of her shades, ___ watched the driver watch her from the corner of his eye. The car began to slow.

“Tell that to ya’ daddy. He—” Ma began to rant as ___ pulled the phone away from her ear. 

“How much do I owe you?” She asked quietly, hands dropping to rummage through her purse for her wallet as she cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder. “—Alright, Ma. Imma have to call you back. We just pulled up to the house and I gotta get situated.”

Handing the driver the appropriate amount of Won, they both left the car to remove her luggage from his trunk. “Okay, sweetie. Love you! Call me again when you get settled in.” Her mother echoed as she mouthed a quick ‘Thank you,’ with a shallow bow.

“Gotcha. Love you, too! Bye.” She hung up and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, making it extend before dragging it behind her towards the house that they had stopped in front of.

She couldn’t really see anything past the high, brick walls and iron gate. Spotting an intercom, she quickly checked her reflection in her phone’s camera before she could press the button to call her employer.

Removing her silk head-scarf, she found that her high puff had held up reliably under it. She quickly stuffed it into her purse and pulled out her glasses case to place her shades in. Shoving that back in, too, she smoothed out her black jeans and checked for stains on her yellow top. It was only after assuring that her face was, indeed, clean that she rang the buzzer.

A red light blinked on before a voice answered. So there was a security camera for surveillance? Good. “Good morning! You must be ___, right?” Her voice was smooth and low, like velvet. It hinted towards an older age, especially when compared to the commonly high pitched tones of the youth.

“Yes, good morning.” ____ stepped back slightly to bow. The gate unlocked with a soft click, and she made her way up the driveway. She could only see one car at the moment, but from the size of the house— no, mansion—, she was sure that a lot more were probably in the garages (yes, plural).

The mansion was a modern white with a lot of windows to let in natural light. The lawn was cleanly cut and the rich, emerald grass shined with small droplets of morning dew. There was actually a surprising amount of yard space, which was ideal for pets and children. The only thing that she would be needing to worry about this trip was a dog and some plants, though.

Little solar-powered lights lined the walkway that ___ walked down. They looked nothing like the one-dollar versions from the Dollar Store, and definitely cost a lot more, too. She climbed a few stone steps to reach the porch. On either side of a dark-wooded door, two gold vases stood guard. They were almost as tall as her and intricately carved with little, delicate flowers. The welcome mat that she stood upon was a sensible dark brown and had a looping Welcome swirled across the front in white. 

She rang the doorbell and patiently waited.

A few moments passed before the door sprung open. The lady that answered was small and adorable in her old age. Her dark hair was sprinkled with white streaks, and her large, dark eyes were creased with laugh lines. The same lines were also wrinkled around her mouth, but they did not take away from the traditional beauty that she still held. Her cheeks were rounded and scattered with pink, and her skin was the color of milk. She was dressed in a fashionable black pantsuit and wore black pumps that boosted her height. 

“Good morning!” ___ bowed lowly with a sweet smile. Her eyes, large and slightly too round to truly be almond shaped, disappeared into crescents. With her face transformed so cutely by just a single smile, one would find it hard to believe that ___ had a mean, mean resting bitch face that, when combined with her not inconsiderable height, gave her a naturally intimidating demeanor.

Endeared, the woman bowed back. “Please, come in.” She invited, stepping aside and letting ___ and her suitcase drag in. 

***

She was still getting situated in the guest room when the door slowly creaked open.

Though she couldn’t see anything from where she was seated on the bed, the tell-tale pattern of claws clicking against the hardwood floor cued her in to who was entering— Mickey, a cute, little Shih-Tzu breed with floppy ears and a brown and white coloring. Despite the fact that he was male, Mickey had two tiny, powder-blue bows woven around his ears. His matching sweater creased slightly as he padded towards her.

“Hi, sweetie!” ___ cooed, reaching down to give him a gentle pat on the head, “Are you looking for some company now that Grandma isn’t in?” 

Mickey had been (surprisingly) very calm upon his introduction towards ___. He barely reacted (outside of a few weak wags of his fluffy tail) to her squealings of how cute he was. Perhaps it was behavior that he was used to.

He settled down onto the carpet next to her bed, the ideal spot for her to reach down and pet him if she wanted to. It was a good move on his part, because that was exactly what she wanted to do. 

___ was a huge dog lover— in fact, she just loved cute, fluffy animals in general. Cats, llamas, sheep— you name it. She tolerated reptiles, and if she had to handle insects, it was usually with gloves and a healthy bit of distance. 

The moral of the story is that she adored fur-babies, and until Mickey’s owner came to pick him up or his Grandma came back home, Mickey was her dog.

a/n: Thank you all for reading the first chapter! I really hope you liked it. The fun stuff starts next chapter, so please stay tuned! I have so much planned *evil laughter*

[hopingforromanoff]

Not As Beautiful As You {N. Romanoff}

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader 

Warnings: uhhh I don’t think any. There’s one scene that really seems like it gonna turn into smut but nothing actually happens, I promise😂

Requests are open, so feel free to send in requests and I will do my best to get them posted ASAP. i’m gonna keep them open for now but please be patient with the length of time it takes to finish them. 

A/N: I KNOW I said that I was gonna post soon and then I disappeared again, but my dog had her puppies so it’s been a bit crazy over here. Anyway, this is for @versdan​ 800 follower writing challenge! Congrats, you deserve every single one of them, love you!💗

Hope you enjoy!

My Masterlist

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The sound of your laughter joined the crackling of the fire, and crickets chirping in the nearby trees and tall grass. Bucky cheered as his throwing knife hit dead center on the makeshift target on the rotted tree stump. You narrowed your eyes at him and marched the short distance to retrieve your knife from where it landed just off the center.     

“Aww Y/N, don’t get all upset just because i'm better at this than you” Bucky’s playful banter caused you to turn back around to face him. 

“Listen Barnes, just because you’re a highly trained assassin doesn't mean you can rub it in people’s faces”  you jokingly swung your arm back as if you were going to throw your knife at Bucky this time instead of the target.  

“Keep goofing off and you’ll seriously get hurt” Natasha glanced up from her book, closing it and setting it gently next to her on the red and black checkered blanket that she had placed down to protect herself from the damp grass. 

“Sorry Nat, he was being mean” you giggled lightly and then slowly made your way around the campfire to your spot next to her like a kicked puppy. It was beginning to get dark so you were gonna stop messing around soon anyway.

“It's fine lyubov moya , I just don’t want you to get hurt, this is supposed to be team-bonding camping or whatever Steve called it, not watching my girlfriend be an idiot and getting hurt” Natasha grabbed your hands as soon as you were within reach, pulling you down onto her crossed legs. 

Your hand found Natasha’s cheek and you pulled her into a soft kiss as the last rays of the sun began to fall behind the trees and the first specs of twilight fell upon the campsite. 

Soon the bright moon and flickering of the fire were the things lighting the campsite. Natasha tightened a blanket around the two of you as the damp evening air chilled your skin. A light breeze ran through the campsite, causing the flames to flicker. The blanket did little to stop the chill that ran through you. 

“Are you cold, baby?” Natasha tightened her arms around you even tighter as you turned into her to bury your face into her neck, seeking warmth. Natasha let out a soft laugh as your nose brushed the side of her neck when you shook your head yes.   

“Did that tickle?” You pulled away just long enough to shoot her a mischievous smile. Natasha knew that meant trouble and she raised her eyebrow to scold you, but it only lasted for a few seconds before she was pulled into a conversion with Steve and Wanda about a recent mission. 

You settled for a moment allowing Natasha to get engulfed in the conversion. Once Natasha was distracted, you let your bottom lip brush over her collarbone, a shiver ran through Natasha when you let your lips pause at her neck, leaving a few kisses there. 

“Y/n, stop” Natasha whispered sternly under her breath as her hand squeezed your hip. 

You ignored her, continuing to pepper kisses up and down the side of her neck. Your hand fell to Natasha’s waist and you began to fiddle with the waistband of her pants as you felt her begin to crumble underneath you. She took a strained deep breath as she tried to maintain her composure as most of the team had now gathered around the fire and joined in the conversion. You almost felt bad for torturing her like this, and then you remembered the similar stunt she pulled during team movie night a few weeks ago. Natasha allowed you to continue your assault for a few more minutes before she abruptly stood, nearly causing you to fall to the floor in the process. 

Natasha made an excuse for her quick exit as she began to march the short distance to your tent, dragging you with her. Natasha groaned when Steve reminded her that they needed help with something. 

“Bed. Now.” Natasha growled as she pulled you tight against her hips. You softly whimpered in response to Natasha’s tone before scurrying into the tent.  

You managed to play a few rounds of a game on your phone before you heard the zipper on the tent and Natasha appeared. You silently watched her for a few moments while she gathered her things and placed them on her side of the air mattress. Natasha sat down on the bed, and scooted closer to you. 

 “You know…..two can play at this game, kitten” Natasha’s hand fell to your bare thigh and she began to stoke up and down it. She finally locked eyes with you for the first time since she came in. Her hand tightened around the back of your knee as she used it to pull you closer to her. A satisfied smile appeared on her face at the surprised squeak that fell from your lips. 

As soon as you were what Natasha deemed closer enough she placed a few gentle kisses on your thigh before crawling up the bed to lie next to you. Her lips gently brushed yours, almost as if she was gonna have mercy on you but you knew her better than that. She placed a gentle kiss there before abandoning your lips entirely, opting for the same method of torture you had used earlier in the night. 

Her breath hit your cheek as she moved painstakingly slowly, her lips merely brushing against your skin but nonetheless the light touches still sent shivers through your nerves. Once she reached your collarbone, she paused for a moment,  leaving a few stray kisses there before she began to work her way back up your neck. She began to lightly suck on the skin once she reached just under your ear. A soft moan fell from your lips as you threaded your fingers through her hair and pulled lightly. 

Natasha smiled against your skin as her hand bunched around the bottom of the fabric of your shirt, her lips only leaving her body for a brief moment as she pulled it over your head and discarding it at the bottom of the bed. With more skin now exposed, Natasha began to kiss down your body. 

Natasha made her way slowly, paying special attention to where your breasts were falling out of your navy bra. You moaned softly when she reached the waistline of your pants, she left a line of kisses along there. Her hands found your hips and slowly your sleep shorts joined your shirt at the end of the bed.  Your breath caught in your throat and you moaned out her name when she slowly began to kiss down your thigh. Once she reached your inner thigh, you began to squirm under her. 

“Relax, baby” Nat purred, pushing your hips back down onto the bed. You whined in frustration once you realized that you weren't going to get what you wanted anytime soon.  

“Kitten, you’ve gotta be patient-” Natasha was not able to finish her sentence before she was interrupted. 

“You guys do know that you’re in a tent, right? And that we can hear everything?” Sam's voice came from outside the tent.  

“Then don’t listen” Natasha continued to softly bite your inner thigh, but one look at your bright red cheeks told her that you were far too embarrassed to enjoy the rest of the evening. 

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

“Y/N, wake up” Natasha's warm hand falls to your shoulder as she tries to gently arouse from your nightmare. No matter how peaceful Nat tried to make it, the shock of being woken up caused the blanket to fall into your lap as you shot up in bed. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, kitten, I'm here, it was just a nightmare” Natasha grabbed your hands to ground you. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up” you mumbled softly trying to shake the dream out of your head. 

“Don't be sorry, it's okay, I promise. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha’s voice was laced with concern.  

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, you began to rapidly search for a way to escape the confined area of the tent. Natasha dropped one of your hands to reach up and brushed your hair out of your face. Her hand paused behind your ear before letting it settle on your cheek, her thumb lightly stroking your skin in an attempt to calm you.    

“Y/N, look at me. We don’t have to talk about” Natasha paused as an idea came to her mind. “C’mon, I wanna try something”

Natasha guided you out into the cool night air, a vast difference from the scorching summer heat that would be felt once the sun arose high in the sky. 

The leaf covered path opened up to the mountainside, you could barely make out the outline of the path below you, but you remembered enough from your hike up to the campsite earlier that day.  Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the ledge. Once you were close to her, she turned you around to look over the edge once again, her hips pressed against yours

“Look” Natasha wrapped her arms around you and pointed out into the vast ocean of black that had millions of stars dancing in it. The shadows of the tall trees faded into the background. 

Natasha began to point out some constellations, keep her arms tightly around you trying to fend off the cold air, but mostly because she just liked it when you were close to her. In the distance you could hear the rustling of the trees as the wind picked up for a second. 

 “How did you find this place” you intertwined your hands with hers as they sat around your waist. 

“I found it when I was collecting firewood with Steve when we first got here, I wanted to show it to you” Natasha sounded distracted but you weren’t paying too much attention, too focused on the stars that shimmered like freshly fallen snowflakes in the night sky.  

“Natasha...its beautiful” 

“Not as beautiful as you” you broke your gaze from the stars for a moment and saw that Natasha was no longer looking at the sky but you instead, her eyelashes brushed against your cheek. And she kissed you, soft and gently. It was all silent, the best kind of silence though. The kind of silence where words weren’t needed, where you could just enjoy each other.

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Permanent Taglist: @sebbbystaaan​ @starspangledseb   @sirinaheart ​@mushyjellybeans​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @natasha-danvers @stop-drop-and-drumroll @imma-new-soul

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen!Chucky /Charles Lee Ray x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Night Time Air 

Notes:

·         Y/B/F: Your best friend

·         This was inspired by Season 5 Pretty Little Liars when Caleb and Alison are rocky and Alison tries to tell Hanna not to be with him, and she goes ahead and gets back together with him. 

·         Told you I would overuse this gif. 

·         I should be doing requestssssss

Plot: 

Chucky is the boy at your school, that is well known for all the bad things he has done. He has no respect for anyone except… maybe you… and he is unpredictable, which is exactly why your friend, your bitchy, not-really-your-friend, frenemy-that-you-only-spend-any-of-your-time-with-because-your-real-friends-like-her tries to order you not to hang out with him.

You don’t take it well.

Warnings: Language maybe? 

~~~

It takes a few seconds before I can clear my enough, and stop myself from jumping to the conclusion of what she’s trying to tell me. Demand of me. “What?”

“You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I mean, I know he’s pretty and everything,” With a roll of her eyeshadow heavy eyes, she tries to infer to me, that my friendship with Chucky is so skin deep. Again, I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying anything, but oh, are there things coming to mind that I wish I would say. “But he’s never been any good, since kindergarten. I’m just looking out for you, you know. You know that I love you.” Oh, sure.

My blood boils at her words, and the fake way she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, the  touch she manages to land on my arm before I flinch away that makes me feel disgusting. She has to be aware that we are not friends, and there is no one else around so where does she get off saying this stuff to me. Demanding something, from me like she’s got any authority. “Maybe you didn’t sense my complete disbelief the first time through your hairspray; I understand chemicals can interfere with alien sensory technology. So, let me say it again. What?”

“Woho,” She laughs, but I see under the thin, unimpressive veil of counterfeit that completes her look of total bitch, that she was not expecting a snap back like that. “Wow, Y/N. No need to get salty… “

Something about the night air has made me confident tonight, for sure. Because at school, there’s no way I’d say these things to her. I’m glad I came out tonight! “I don’t know where you think you get the authority to tell me what to do, but you’re mistaken.” Nervously, I glance past her into Y/B/F’s house to see if they were looking at us, because the last thing I need is drama with the others after this, and then stonily back at Jane. “Tell the others whatever, I’ll set it straight tomorrow. I gotta go, I happen to know where Chucky’ll be tonight.”

She narrows her eyes and looks miffed, but I’m already turning around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walking off down the street. God, I’m glad I said that. Its been dying to come out since I realised I didn’t like her in the first place- it might stir some trouble in our group, but its better she knows I don’t like her then to let her keep thinking she any control in my life. Besides, I’d kinda… I’d much rather go see Chucky then stay in and play forced Monopoly with her for the rest of the night, and wake up in the morning with moustache drawn on my face.

When I get to my destination, I don’t see him but I don’t get to wonder if he just hasn’t come to the playground tonight like he brags he does every night -like some edge master on the big screen,- because he calls my name and I turn around to see him walking over from another street. “What are you doing here?” He stops in front of me on the woodchips and stuffs his hands in his trench coat pockets, grinning down at me in a way that gives me the strangest feeling that he’s glad I’m here. “Thought you’d be… Ahhh, I dunno, enjoying skimpy girl sleepover activities? See, I listen to you. Unless I got the day wrong?” I wish we could move somewhere else, maybe walk around, but he’s just standing and looking at me with his grin like I’m a weeping angel.

Instead of staying there and talking about my run in with Jane, although I’m sure he’d love to hear about it -he doesn’t like her either. One of the many things we talk about when we’re together,- , I turn and head for the swing. “Skimpy girl sleepover activities? Sounds like you put some thought into that!” I tease, sitting in a swing and pushing off. There’s something very free, about playing on a playground when its dark, and no on else is around. I suddenly get why its such a popular teenage stereotype. Not too far out of my comfort zone like most adult things that I want to do or am being pushed to try, but still new.

He laughs. “Would’ve come by and visited if I knew where your girl friend lived.” Turning my head, I watch Chucky come around and get in the other swing, but not push off.

“You would’ve been disappointed. We had intensive plans to snuggle up in our skivvy’s and raincoats and watch Singin’ In The Rain. But I would’ve made room for you!” Which is true. I would. I definitely would. I’d love to ‘accidentally’ fall over and snuggle with him. Totally would. Any day. Yes.

Watching him grin to himself at my dumb joke gives me little tummy squirms, so I take a deep breath as I swing and look away. “Oh well. Glad I get you, tonight. They always seem to win your time.”

“They’re my best friends… “I say, falling backwards and feeling my hair fly after me, on either side of my face. Then turn and grin at Chucky, curiously. “You’ve never expressed any desire to hang with me more, before.”

“Well its not like I have many friends apart from you… “He trails off, but his face doesn’t reveal any sadness or forlorn desire to change that. I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t like anyone else at our school. He has nicknames for them all! And none flattering. He turns to me sharply, causing my heart to seize in my chest. Oh my god. “Custody agreements, how would I go about winning weekends with you?”

Rolling my eyes, I look away and keeping swinging, distracting myself from him. “Mm, payment’s a bit dear,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to be a mutter to myself. I wanted to reply, but I don’t want him to hear the rest of that quip. Which is ‘Its you have to kiss me’.

Seems the night air isn’t just making me confidently mean, tonight…

“I bet… “He says back, not quite to me and under his breath, the same as how I said it. Then he gets up from the swing and looks around, shifty eyed. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

He looks bored, so I slow down the swing and pop off, not noticing he moved right in front of me until I’ve hopped right into him. “Nice going, pal! Smart move!” I exclaim sarcastically, and push out of his arms and away from his face, which is grinning cheekily and laughing.

“Dunno what you’re complaining for, I’m not the only one who got to second base just then! Wanna try for first?”

“You’re very funny.” I say, forcing an irritated tone through my smiling face. Its times like these, when I thank having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. “As if.”  

“Yeahh, right. Whatever, come on.” He starts walking, scooping me up on the way, walking with his arm over my shoulders… like friends. Friends. This is friendly, I remind myself quickly. These moments, when he touches me and acts like we’re a couple, are when I curse having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. We walk around the park, not leaving the gleam of the streetlights, but leaving the mulch of the playground for the grass surrounding it. After a while of conversation about school, and other kids in our class -never touching his father or mine, this night time playground acting as sanctuary, - , we hit a lull in the conversation, and I watch our feet wading through the luscious grass, due to excessive levels of rain recently. My fingers feel like icey poles. He hasn’t removed his arm from me the entire time we’ve been walking, though, so at least the rest of me is warm. “So, what happened to your sleepover anyway. Cancelled or did you blow them off?”

“Uh… I blew it off.” For you. Of course, I don’t utter the last words. Too much of a chicken shit to finish the deal, even feeling the night air on my cheeks.

“There’s my bad girl.”

“Hah,” Thank god, its too cold for my cheeks to heat up. I glance at his face, and do a double take. He’s waiting for the rest of the story! Uhhhhh… “Um, well, we… Jane said something annoying, you know.” Flashing him an awkward half-smile, I see he’s still waiting for the kicker and look away again, picking up his other hand and lacing my fingers through his, to distract me. “Here, warm my fingers up, they’re icey.” As his fingers willingly wrap around mine, I don’t have to glance to feel his look edging me on for the rest of the story. I sigh. “Well, she said something dumb about not wanting me to hang out with a certain bad boy loner type with yucky hair, and I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

“I’m gonna ignore the part about my great hair for the moment, because I’m too chuffed that you stuck up for me… “Remarkably, somehow, his voice is grinning, as he slows us immediately too a stop and moves to stand in front of me, loosening his arm around me just enough to do so, but not letting go so I’m kind of… well, I’m enveloped in him. I can smell his familiar shampoo and aftershave, and feel weirdly, wonderfully small in front of him, who is taller. Which is usually not too noticeably because he isn’t magnificently tall, but he is… 3 to 5 inches taller than me? And because we’re so close, you can tell.

Embarrassingly, I just stand there silently as he grins, and brings our linked hands up to his mouth, to tap a kiss to mine. What? What? WhAT! This is not… this cannot just be friendly, can it? I glance away from his blue-blue eyes, so I can gather my voice back. “Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but I like it.”

With nothing else to use my voice for, because I can’t think of anything else to say, I look back up at his, our hands still close to his mouth a grin on his lips. There, I decide to do something. I decide to make or break our friendships, to see what happens, to do something I want to try.

I decide to kiss him.

I tilt my head, and pull down our hands and close my eyes, not allowing for any second thoughts before I get up on my toes and hopefully touch his mouth with mine. I remember wondering what happens if I actually get his chin or his nose, before my lips connect with his and everything goes starry.

Because immediately like he was prepared for it, like that, he kisses back. Pulling me in comfortably with his arm and letting go of my hand so he can cup the side of my neck, his thumb resting on my jaw. I use my new freedom to bunch his coat in my fist, and bring him warmer to me. Not that it could get much warmer for me, with his mouth laying a long, soft kiss to me.

This is definitely the ideal outcome to my decision.  

“Took way too long for you to do that, sweetheart.” Is the first thing he says post-first-kiss, husky and quietly, against my lips as he looks from them to my eyes which is way too attractive a power for a teenage boy to have if you ask me, before kissing me again, this time deeper and with his tongue. All I can do is stand there and try my best to reciprocate the sheer, hot passion that somehow he’s able to convey to me without words, despite this being my first kiss, to the best of my mediocre abilities.

“I… didn’t know you were waiting for it,” I say, when he seems done for more then 2 seconds. A flash of a smile crosses his face, rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t obvious enough for you??”

“No!”

“I said that I’m glad I get you tonight!”

“That’s code for ‘Kiss me’???”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’ll remember that now!”

He sighs in exasperation while smiling, which is good because I’m grinning too. “Do you wanna just make out some more?”

“Oh, yes, we shall. Good idea.”

[rune-writes]

I'll Come Visit

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

@zerith-week » Day 2: Promise

Word Count: 2344

Rating: G

Summary: All Zack ever gave Aerith were promises: promises of a date, to see the sky, and to come visit after he returns from Nibelheim.

Chapter 2 of Of Wishes and Promises: Zerith Week 2021

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

All Zack ever gave Aerith were promises. The first was the promise of a date, the first time he met her when he dropped out of the sky and onto her flowerbed. The second was to show her the sky, because it wasn’t as scary as she thought, and he wanted her to see it. Then he bought her a ribbon and said they should make fun, little promises for when they next met.

“For example, when we meet, you always have to dress in pink.”

Aerith giggled and said that was silly, and it was, but it’d be fun. So she nodded and said okay and wondered what kind of pink dress she had that she could wear.

Then just before he left for Nibelheim, they went to the Sector 6 playground to sell flowers. Operation: Midgar Full of Flowers, Wallet Full of Money seemed to have a good start. The blooms were a big hit. One woman wished she could see them grow all around the slums.

“Yeah, that’s me and Aerith’s dream,” Zack said. “Not just the slums, either. We want to fill the whole of Midgar with flowers!”

Only a dream then, one he hoped would come true once he returned to Midgar, when he could finally take her to the city above and sell flowers under the sky together.

***

Zack sighed at the heavens above as he lay on his back. Thin wisps of cotton-soft clouds drifted past; though, did anyone really know whether clouds were cotton-soft? An age-old imagery that originated from how it looked from the ground, made by people who had too much time on their hands with too little thoughts in their minds.

Zack had too much time on his hands now. With Sephiroth having locked himself in the mansion’s library and still no lead on their investigation, there had been nothing to do but check on the reactor every day. Everything stayed the same. The monsters still slept in their pods, no more reactor malfunctioning, no more signs of Genesis—or any other intruders for that matter.

Cloud would grab any chance he could get to accompany Zack. Probably to escape the town and its people. Probably to be near their ebony-haired guide. He couldn’t blame the guy, and he had no intention to interfere, but sometimes, Zack would look at his stubborn younger friend and wish Cloud would let loose and show them who he really was. Not a SOLDIER, but still a proud member of Shinra’s infantrymen. They’d understand.

When the time came to return to town, he let the two kids go on ahead, saying he wanted to explore more of the mountain. Tifa offered to come with him, but Zack refused. It was still light out. If he’d gotten lost, his SOLDIER pride would be at stake.

Zack had expected a chuckle at the very least, but his guide only stared at him and said, “Okay.” Then she looked at the grunt and nodded her head down the mountain path. “Shall we, then?”

Grunt Cloud jerked, and for a fraction of a second, his wild, panicked eyes met Zack’s through his helmet visor. Zack waited until Tifa had turned and walked away before he slapped Cloud on the back and whispered, “You got this.”

“I got this.” A self-reassuring nod; Cloud gripped his rifle tighter before following Tifa down the mountain. They walked with a little distance between them, but never too far apart. Zack watched, a little grin playing across his lips.

He’d set off in another direction then: a greener, more life-abundant direction; a contrast to the barren, jagged mountain he’d left behind. He’d found the clearing shortly after, with trees on one side and a sheer drop on the other. It overlooked the Nibel plains and the small town below with the clear blue sky stretching far into the horizon.

Fragments of a cloud broke away into little dots, collecting in places that, somehow, reminded him of the yellow blossoms he’d find growing under the shades of a dilapidated church. Thoughts of the blossoms led to thoughts of the flower girl, and Zack couldn’t help but draw another long breath.

It’d been a week since he arrived in Nibelheim, longer still since he last saw Aerith. The closest interaction he'd gotten was the phone call mere days after reaching the mountain village. His PHS had rung when he’d been about to go to the mansion, and it had taken him by surprise when her voice came out of the receiver. But he’d been too busy then, so he’d told her that he’d call later.

“No, no, you don’t have to.” There had been a slight drop to her tone.

He'd pressed his lips together. “Okay, then I’ll come visit.”

“I’ll be here.”

Zack hadn't missed the momentary pause or the wistful sigh, hadn't forgotten her downcast eyes when he told her he would leave Midgar for a job. There had been nothing else he could say but: “I’ll see you, I promise.” He could almost see her smile as he hung up, hoping it had been enough until he returned to her side.

The drifting clouds offered a brief respite from the sun's harsh glare. Summer had long since gone and autumn was well on its way, but Zack still felt hot. Hot and restless and sweaty and wishing he was back under the cover of the church, where a ray of pleasant sunlight slanted in through the broken rooftop right onto her flowerbed. He’d doze on her lap, and Aerith would weave a flower crown to put around his head, and when he opened his eyes, he would see the brightest smile he had ever seen.

Zack reached for his PHS in his pocket. He had half a mind to go to his mails before he realized Aerith didn’t have a PHS. She’d borrowed Tseng’s when she called him before. Zack didn't want to call Tseng. The last time he did, the Turk had chuckled and said that he was at work, that he had one of his men watching her and that she was safe. He would, however, send her Zack’s regards the next time he saw her. Zack's mouth twitched at the memory.

What if he called her house? Elmyra probably wouldn't mind. The last time he met her, she had acted like he was already part of the family. It made him smile and miss her homemade stew, miss the warmth of the kitchen and the vibrant colors in her garden, miss that motherly touch.

But as good as the idea sounded, it was still daylight and Aerith was probably not home. He stared at the open mail draft on his PHS screen, then typed in Kunsel's name.

‘What are you doing?’

The reply came shortly after: ‘If you resorted to mail me in the middle of a mission, I can only imagine how bored you must be feeling right now. So let me tell you some good news, friend. I visited that church your Aerith frequented and I gotta say, she is such a lively fella. You have no idea all the little details she’d asked me of you.’

Zack jumped, glaring into his PHS screen as those last few words hammered their way into his head. He dialed Kunsel’s number. Kunsel immediately picked up.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?”

On the other side of the line, Kunsel cackled—a shoulder-shaking, back-bending, stomach-hurting cackle. “Gods, I can’t believe you fell for that one.”

Zack blinked, too mortified to catch up with the joke.

“I’m on a mission, if you remember—or maybe you don’t. Different from the one when you left for Nibelheim. With our Firsts out on a mission on the other side of the Planet, it seems the top brass has decided to have the rest of us—meaning us, Second-Class—take the lead on the remaining jobs. So I’ve been away, again. Far away from your lovely girl. So you have nothing to worry about.”

Another blink. Right.

“How’s the job anyway?”

A short pause, and maybe it was the easy-going tone of his voice that made Zack's tongue loosen up and tell Kunsel about the current state of his investigation, the current state of Sephiroth, the current state of his restlessness. Then at the end of it, Kunsel chuckled.

“Even in the middle of a mission, you still got time to worry about your girl.” Zack heard a scoff, soft and amused. “She’s fine. Aren’t the Turks watching her?”

“They are…” But even knowing that, there was a disquiet in his heart that he couldn’t quite figure where it was coming from.

“Well, if it’s any help at all, I promised to check up on her, didn’t I? Once I get back from my assignment, I’ll see how she is. Does that ease you?”

It did, even if only a little.

“So just focus on your assignment right now and make sure you get your ass back in Midgar. Quick.” Then he added, “You know I have a whole folder of you sneezing out snot, right?”

“Kuns—!”

The line was cut. The last thing Zack heard was his friend's laughter. It still echoed even when Zack had put his PHS down and stared at the screen, when he laid back on the sunny grass and covered his eyes with an arm. Maybe it was a bad idea to have Kunsel check on Aerith. Who knew what the guy would show her? All the embarrassing details of Zack's life! But Kunsel was the only person Zack could trust in SOLDIER right now…

Zack let out another quiet exhale. He lifted his arm. The clouds drifting past looked uncannily like the girl with the brightest smile.

***

He called a little after dusk. Zack was alone in his room; Sephiroth was still not back; Cloud and the other grunt stood watch somewhere. A few moments passed with only the dial tone filling his ears. And then:

“Hello?”

The smile came unbidden. Like a dam about to burst, his lips wavered at the intensity of the emotions overcoming him—overwhelming him.

“Aerith?”

“Zack?” Her surprise was almost palpable. He could imagine her wide-eyed stare as she stood beneath the warm lights of her home. “This is a surprise. You're not busy?”

“Aw, don’t you miss me?”

She giggled, and it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world. “Silly.”

They talked about everything and anything: what she was doing, how her days had been. "Same old, same old," she said. Tending to her flowers, running errands around the slum, then just as she’d headed for the church, the Leaf House kids had crowded around her and asked where Zack was.

Zack chuckled. “And what’d you tell them?”

“That Zack is on a very important job right now, but he’ll be back very soon and give everyone presents.” Her laugh made him smile, and he imagined her sitting next to the pots and vases, swaying her feet and twirling her hair. He closed his eyes, committing it to memory.

“Hey, Aerith.”

“Yeah?”

When he made that promise to visit, Zack had thought they would finish their mission soon and he'd be back by Aerith's side before she knew it. But it had been a week since then, and he was still stuck in a small mountain town with nothing to do but look for missing persons who refused to be found and wait on a stubborn comrade who refused to leave.

“Think I’d have to take a rain check on that promise. I don’t think I can come back soon.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Okay.” Then, because maybe she’d noticed the hesitancy in his voice: “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing wrong.” He was quick to answer, quick to ease her worry, even as his mind went to the mansion sitting on the town's outskirts, where Sephiroth was still perusing the many thick volumes stored in the basement. The last time Zack had checked on him, he'd been unaware of Zack’s presence. It’d been like talking to a statue, if statues could walk and talk. Ceaseless mutterings; unending strides; then at times, Sephiroth would stop and look up, and Zack would sigh and thought, finally! Because the meal the townspeople had prepared still lay untouched on the table, and all of Zack’s attempts to tell him to rest had flown over his head. But like a man possessed, Sephiroth had only walked past without truly seeing him, then discarded the book in favor of another.

“Zack?”

Zack blinked, then said again, “Nothing’s wrong.” It was less convincing. “Anyway,” he went on, brightening his voice. “Did you really tell the kids I’d bring them presents?”

“Of course,” she said, her voice too chirpy, as though she’d noticed his unease and opted to play along with his act. “Well, you have to give them something , after all their efforts to learn your combat moves. They’re really taking this Protection Squad business seriously, you know.” She giggled, and he chuckled too.

The kids had been hounding him every time he took the trip beneath the plate. What was supposed to be a quality time with Aerith always ended up as sword-fighting lessons with a bunch of children. Not that he minded them. The more time Zack spent with them, the more endearing they all seemed to him.

“Then I’d better get them something really good.” He wondered if the store next door sold souvenirs. He could ask Cloud for advice. Or Tifa. “But don’t tell them yet. It’ll be a surprise.”

He could feel her smile as she said, “Sure thing.” In the distance, he heard Elmyra’s call. Aerith had to hang up. “Do you think we can talk again tomorrow?”

“Of course. I’ll call you. Or you can call me too, if you want.”

“Really? Then maybe I’ll do that.”

Zack’s lips parted into the slightest grin. “I’ll be here.” Another promise. Her goodbye was the last thing he heard before Aerith ended the call.

~ END ~

[myarmsaretoolong]

Breathe in. Breathe Out.

@whumptober2020​ Prompt #13: Breathe in. Breathe Out | AltPrompt 1: Punctured

Word Count: 1185

Warnings: Medical Procedures

Synopsis: Peter gets injured while out on patrol, Tony races to reach him before time runs out.

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

“Hang in there, kid. I’m almost there.” Tony shot through the sky, full power in the thrusters, in the direction of Queens. Each broken breath Peter sucked in only added to the fear that had firmly settled in his stomach. “Take deep breaths.”

“H-Hurts,” Peter choked out. According to Friday, he was on the outskirts of the city, alone. Scared.

“I know. You’re doing a great job, Pete.” Tony had to force a calmness to his voice, for Peter’s sake, when in reality he wanted to scream and hunt down the scumbag who did this.

“Hu-rry.”

Tony landed on the grass beside Peter and dematerialised his suit. “I’m here. I’m here.” He ran over to where Peter sat, shoulders heaving as he struggled to get enough oxygen, and crouched down beside him. “Cho’s on the way in the Quinjet, two minutes. You just gotta breathe for me.”

Peter nodded far too quickly, his eyes wide and fearful. He tapped his fingers lightly against the right side of his chest. “Hurts,” he repeated. “K-Kicked me. Got a-way”

Tony fought back tears; he had to stay strong for Peter. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll find whoever did this later, okay?” Peter nodded again. Tony helped Peter adjust so he was sitting more upright, slightly improving his breathing, though not by much. He ran a hand through the kid’s hair and whispered calmingly as a coughing fit took over his body.

After it had passed, Peter’s skin was pale and lips beginning to tinge blue. Only the left side of his chest was expanding with each broken breath. Tony’s fingers moved their way to his wrist, a new onslaught of tears threatened to overwhelm him as he felt Peter’s erratic heartbeat.

“It’s okay,” Tony muttered, Peter’s head resting against his chest. “I’ve got you.”

“Tired,” Peter gasped. “Can’t-”

“Yes, you can. Just a few seconds longer, then Cho can help you.” 

Peter nodded, far weaker than before.

The rumble of the Quinjet’s engine filled their ears. Within a few seconds, it had landed, and Doctor Cho and her team piled out, Clint glancing over from the cockpit. She and Tony helped Peter to his feet, then onto a stretcher before wheeling him onboard the jet.

“Barton, quick as you can,” Tony called, not taking his eyes from Peter as Doctor Cho and her team worked. He nodded, and they took to the air.

“Portable X-Ray.” Doctor Cho held out a hand, and one of the nurses placed a small scanner in it, balancing the screen which accompanied it on the edge of Peter’s bed. Another nurse cut away Peter’s suit from his chest so Doctor Cho would work. Peter’s eyes grew wider than before, and he weakly tried to stop her.

“Hey, hey,” Tony whispered, gently taking Peter’s hand with his own, the other rubbing his cheek. “I can fix that right up. It’s nothing, kid. It’s okay.” Peter looked up and met Tony’s eyes, exhaustion so evident it was impossible to miss. Tony bent down and kissed his forehead, Peter’s eyes fluttered closed. “Pete?” He asked quietly, not really expecting an answer. “Kid, come on.”

Doctor Cho watched the exchange grimly. “It’s probably for the best. This is going to hurt, and we don’t have anaesthetic strong enough for his metabolism onboard.”

“How bad is it?” Tony asked, still squeezing Peter’s limp hand.

Doctor Cho angled the X-Ray screen so Tony could see it, not that he knew what exactly he was looking at. “Blunt force trauma to the chest caused a broken rib which punctured his lung.” She ran through his injures promptly as she moved across the jet, collecting various pieces of equipment. “I need to put in a chest tube to release the air and reinflate his lung.”

She returned to Peter’s side, a scalpel and long plastic tube in her gloved hands, and prepared him for the procedure by rubbing a cotton bud coated in iodine against the side of his chest.

Tony glanced over to the cockpit, the Avengers Facility was visible, but still some way off. They had to do this in the air. “Steady as you can, Clint,” he bleakly. They couldn’t afford to run into a patch of turbulence.

“Copy that.”

“Tony, I’m going to need you to hold him still if he wakes up,” Doctor Cho said, looking Tony in the eye. “Can you do that?”

Tony swallowed heavily and nodded.

“Good.” She picked up the scalpel. Tony moved round to stand at the end of the stretcher, his hands on Peter’s shoulders, both to hold him steady and to hide the way they trembled. Doctor Cho pressed the scalpel against Peter’s skin and made a small incision, one of the nurses on standby to clean up the trickle of blood as she inserted the tube. She stepped back.

They all watched the rise and fall of Peter’s chest, slowly, almost imperceptibly, it began to level out. Doctor Cho smiled, “We’ll have to leave the chest tube in place until his lung has reinflated fully.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief and bent down, his chin practically resting on the stretcher beside Peter’s ear. “You hear that, kid? You’re gonna be just fine.”

* * *

Peter came around slowly, safely in a bed in the Avengers Facility’s medical bay. Immediately, he tried to sit up, which Tony put a swift stop to, and instead raised the head of his bed and propped him up carefully on a stack of pillows.

“Here.” Tony grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and handed it to Peter. He sipped gratefully before handing it back. “How you feeling?”

“Groggy, and my chest still hurts, though not as much as before.”

Tony brushed his hand through Peter’s hair and smiled. “That’s good. Had me worried for a minute back there.”

Peter leaned into the touch. “Sorry, Mister Stark.”

“Don’t. There’s nothing to apologise for, not to me, at least. May’s on her way here, she might be a little mad that you were patrolling after curfew.”

Sighing, Peter leaned his head back against the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s not one I’m looking forward to explaining. You don’t want to jump in there for me, huh?”

Tony chuckled and shook his head. “What, and face the wrath of May? No siree, she’s terrifying when she’s angry.”

At that exact moment, May burst in the medical bay doors and ran to Peter’s side. She kissed his forehead and ran her thumb against his cheek. “Hey, sweetie.” She glanced up at Tony, who gave a reassuring nod, and turned back to Peter. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.” Peter put on his best smile, “Love you, May.”

“Nice try, but you’re not getting out of this.”

Tony jumped to his feet, quickly backing towards the door. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “I should go and let the others know Pete’s doing okay.” May nodded, Peter shook his head, begging with his eyes for Tony to stay. “See you later, kid.” He ran from the room as fast as possible.