#so he can't even reassure everyone that he's still alive

[sparrows4bats]

Soft Pycho Jon AU

When Jon Kent came back from being trapped in a volcano. He came back changed. Not only was he older and more traumatised, but he fixated on his family and friends like they were the very reason for living.

He had been tempered from that kind little boy they knew to something a little harder, a little more ruthless.

It's not that big of an issue for a long time. While overprotective and a little possessive, Jon is still reasonable. Until the moment he's not.

Jon Kent is not easy to push to the edge.

He has support, people to turn to, and coping mechanisms.

But, he also has a temper. One that is ignited when his loved ones are in danger.

One Day, his best friend is taken, Jon can't find his heartbeat and no matter how hard his family search they can't find him.

All of the bats are frantic and worried. They tear Gotham apart in their search. All of the rogues know a robin is missing, and they know to stay low until he is found.

Jon is unhinged.

The longer Damian is gone, the longer one of Jons anchors to his humanity is missing the more intense he gets. His eyes are permanently red, and no one who looks at him sees anything but the apex predator he is. The longer Damian is gone, the more humanity he loses.

Clark and Kon try to get him to calm down, but it doesn't work. Lois doesn't bother. She just helps her son search.

Batman watches as Jon deteriorates little by little with apprehension.

It's three weeks before Jon hears Damians heartbeat again. It's faint, but Jon can hear it. Jon is there in less than three seconds.

Damian is crawling, covered in blood, and open wounds out of a bunker in the Siberian wilderness. A knife clutch in his clearly broken hand.

Jon arrives just in time to kill the four men that chase him.

The Son of Superman has no regret or remorse as he leaves their bodies in the snow.

Damian watches him through swollen eyes, voice raspy as he asks Jon, "Are you real?"

Jon picks him up carefully and whispers reassurances as Damian collapses in his arms.

Jon brings him to the hospital in Metropolis first. The Batcave doesn't have the supplies or expertise for the amount of damage Jon is seeing littered across Damians' body.

The Batman sighs in relief when Jon calls from the waiting room to tell him Damian is very injured but alive. Bruce asks what happened, and Jon answers.

He is silent after Jon describes the bunker and how he killed Damians captors before he could get any information.

Jon hangs up before he can say more. He doesn't care.

Hours later, when Damian wakes up, he doesn't believe any of his family is real, that he is safe for a long time.

He grips Jons hand like a lifeline as he cries, begging for it to be real. Begging him to stay.

Jon never leaves Damians' side. He refuses.

Both their fathers try to separate them, but Damian starts to cry and dissociate. It terrifies everyone present because Damian doesn't do that. Ever.

Jon almost physically fights his Dad, heat vision barely restrained as Damians sobs fill his ears like bombs.

The only thing that holds him back is Damians hand in his. So he takes a breath and tells all of them.

"He asked me to stay, I don't care about anything else." His tone of voice is so resolute, and his expression so menacing that even Batman fights a flinch.

Needless to say, they don't try again it for a while.

Jon just lies in bed with Damian, cramped as it is so his Robin can sleep without nightmares.

Damian never tells them exactly what happened, just that he was drugged, and when he woke up, he was on something like fear toxin for much too long. Bruce takes samples of his blood and crafts an antidote that helps calm Damian but doesn't undo all of the damage.

Eventually, Damian is moved from the hospital to the Manor. Jon doesn't protest, just follows.

Jon is almost constantly in physical contact with Damian now, keeping him grounded. They sleep in the same bed every night and are glued together for two months straight.

Clark gave up on trying to get his son to come home. He and Lois call both boys daily instead.

When Damian is ready, he braves the outside world again. He starts to resume his routine from before his time in the bunker. Jon follows.

The Super glares at anyone who gets too close. He growls at the man who walks into Damian by accident. Damian doesn't seem to mind at all.

Everyone expects them to go back to normal, and in some ways, they do. Damian goes back to work at the hospital. Jon works while he is on shift. The son of Superman returns to saving lives.

In a lot of ways, Damian going missing changes things forever. Jon holds Damian closer and guards him like the most precious thing in the world. The need to keep all his precious people safe more apparent than ever.

Especially after Jon finds out who ordered Damians capture. The only thing left of them was the blood on Jons suit, which Alfred helped him clean in silence. Jon knows Damians' siblings' suspect, but going by the approving glint in their eyes, they won't bring it up to Bruce.

Not that the World Greatest Dectective could prove much anyway.

It isn't surprising when Jon tells Damian he loves him, nor is it when Damian kisses him while they lay together, trying to fall asleep.

Bruce looks worried when they announce their relationship but is all too aware of the consequences should he try to interfer.

Jon has proven the lengths he will go to.

[suiana]

yandere! cheater and gn! reader who's in their villain arc...

you've suspected that something was up when your boyfriend started to get busy with his work, coming home late, hiding his phone from you...

of course you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he really was just stressed from his work. he was yourboyfriend after all. you had to trust him, didn't you?

well everything was shattered when you found one of his side chicks under your shared bed. she was naked, only wearing a pair of undies while holding in her pee.

"wtf why are you hiding under here?"

"your bf doesn't want u to know that he's cheating. told me that he'd kill me if i came out."

yeah, so the girl was an asshole to get with your man when she knew that he was in a relationship but at least she told it to your face straight up. also she pissed herself while getting out from the bed so there's that.

meanwhile, your boyfriend was sobbing and crying when he came home. you had found out of his side affairs, a side he never wanted you to find out about. to be honest, your boyfriend didn't know why he he got with others in the first place. he had everything he could ever want in you. you made him feel alive, all the good things you know. being with you was like a dream come true and he constantly felt like tearing out his skin from how happy you made him.

you were his god.

oh, yeah, thinking about it now that's probably it. he felt that you were too good for him and didn't want to taint you. which... was why he resorted to sleeping with others.

shitty move, yeah he knows. don't need to repeat it.

but you... why were you so forgiving? you welcomed him back with open arms, sobbed a little and told him how hurt you were! he thought you'd have up and left by now!

but you didn't.

he knew you were too good for him, he had to treat you better now. he just had to, this was obviously you giving him a second chance, right? oh he just loves you so much!

unfortunately for him, it wasn't a second chance. no, you were about to absolutely ruin this man.

it started with the small things. small rumours about him ranging from how he had a small dick to how he's a pushover... you needed to start your plan slow, you know. tear his reputation of a good and sensible man bit by bit. gotta build up that tension teehee >w<

then from the rumours, you started manipulating the people close to him. crocodile tears, white lies, and a whole pity party for yourself... telling his friends and family members how your boyfriend was an absolute shit of a boyfriend, how he didn't treat you right and how he was the worst an alive... well, it wasn't much of a lie. he did spoil you and treat you like a deity but if he really treasured you why would he cheat in the first place? there's no space left in your life to pity him.

the most important part was to constantly reassure him that you loved him and to make sure that he never finds out that you were the one ruining his life from behind the scenes. can't let him find out that his angel lover is the one that's bringing him to social death now!

by this stage, your boyfriend was completely dependent on you. everyone around him was looking at him like he was the absolute scum of the earth. where did the rumours come from? why was everyone avoiding him? he couldn't even go to work without his coworkers side-eyeing him like he grew an extra head! he's just lucky he didn't get fired-

oh and what do you know. he got fired.

he comes home crying, an absolute mess and a shell of the man that he used to be. what was once a confident and charming man is now a desperate and pathetic boyfailure.

"baby i got fired, i'm so sorry. i don't deserve to be with you."

his arms wrap aorund your legs, tears staining your pants as he seeks comfort from the only person still left by his side. yes, you're the only person left dying for. even his own parents desserted him, yet you stayed. he's so thankful-

"yeah, you're right. you don't deserve me."

it's like time stops the second the words fall from your lips. he slowly looks up at you, eyes widening in horror as his tears dry up. what? was he growing delusional? he must've heard you wrong. no way his beloved god just said that!

"haha... you're so sweet baby. joking around in a time like this-"

"i'm not joking. you don't deserve someone like me."

you slap his hands away, looking down at him as he remains on his knees on the floor. you had a smug smile, expression all cocky as you even started to laugh.

"haha! did you really think i wanted to stay with you? fuck no! i have standards okay? i really didn't want to stay with a cheater!"

your boyfriend didn't know what to think. what were you saying? he doesn't understand. is this a late april fools prank? the way his heart was clenching and the way he felt his face paled shows just how much he doesn't like your words.

"babe stop-"

"i hate you god damnit. i really thought you'd be the one for me but no! you just had to go ahead and cheat!"

but you didn't listen to him.

"let's break up."

oh yeah, you hear that? that's the sound of his heart shattering.

he quickly crawls over to you, face pale as he grips onto your pants tightly. his hands shook with each word he uttered, tone desperate as tears streamed down his cheeks once more.

he never thought he'd start begging for someone to stay when it was usually the opposite but... you were his god. the one he's devoted his entire life too.

so he'll gladly get on his hands and knees for you if he has too. you can't leave him. he doesn't want to be alone.

"please! forgive me! i know i did something wrong but i'm trying! you can't leave me too!"

he looks up at you, face completely flushed as he continues to turn himself into an even bigger pathetic mess. he doesn't care what he looks like now. he's practically lost everything. he has nothing left to lose.

"i promise i'll be better! i haven't cheated since you found out last time! d-doesn't that count for something?"

he gives you a shaky smile, as though that would convince you.

it wasn't.

in response to his words, you could only give a disgusted expression, kicking him away before walking past him to the front door. what a pathetic man he was.

"you know, you look best when you're like this."

you state, glancing at him with a smile before turning to leave his house. well, there's that. your plan was complete and your now-ex boyfriend was absolutely destroyed.

so why did it feel like... something bad was about to happen?

you quickly look back at him, keeping your cool and remaining nonchalant before you feel the blood drain from your face. your best friend?! where did they come from?! and the fact that your crazy ex was holding a knife to their neck-

"no... don't leave me... you can't leave... i have no one else but you..."

what were you supposed to do now that he was holding your best friend hostage?

[selenocentric]

I know we deserved at least one moment of Steve being vulnerable after CATWS, but the MCU is a coward so...

You know when something big happens which changes your life forever, but you're so overwhelmed by the change, you aren't able to process it until much, much later.

Now, I'm imagining Steve Rogers, who couldn't even properly process Bucky's death before crashing into the Arctic, being forced to live in a new century. Everyone expects him to be stoic and grateful because, well, he is Captain America (the propaganda), and his survival is nothing short of a miracle. And Steve is just existing.

And then, Bucky is back from the dead, and Steve, he is running on pure adrenaline. He knows if he stops to think about it for even a second, he will just stop. And he can't afford that. He needs to make sure Bucky is safe first.

Fast forward, Bucky is with Steve. He is recovering. They both are alive, safe, and with each other. And with no immediate danger, Steve's mind just comes to a halt, and he breaks down. He starts crying. The kind of crying where he is trying to control his sobs and keeps wiping away his tears in attempts to stop them.

And Bucky, who was in front of Steve, freezes for a second. Only for a second, because in the next, he pulls Steve close and tightly holds him in his arms. He knows how much Steve needs this, how much he needs to let it all out, and how much he needs to stop being brave for a second. He keeps whispering reassurances in Steve's ear and runs his hand through Steve's hair. So, who cares if there are tears on Bucky's face? He needs it, too.

And when they sleep at night, their hands are firmly holding the other. Steve's breath still comes up short. Maybe they will talk about it in the morning, maybe they won't. But they know they will have each other, and they can figure the rest of the stuff along the way.

[lex-the-flex]

Better in Yellow

WorstLogan! Howlett x reader

Summary: Returning from a taxing mission, Logan is ready to relax with you, but first, you’ve got to see your man in the iconic yellow suit.

Word Count: 703

Warning(s): None! Just pure fluff and flirting!

A/N: Hello all, I'm back after a short break! I've been thinking about this idea for the past couple of days and I need more Logan fluff in my life. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The fresh scent of lemons and sugar overtake the large gardens attached to the vine-covered brick mansion. Rays of sunlight stretch through the tall trees, allowing every square inch of the green nature to feel alive.

Lightly scrubbing a large batch of lemons in a stone sink built into the wall, the cold water feels refreshing on your hands. Gently wiping the thin layer of sweat off your face, you quietly hum to yourself.

“I found some wild lavender growing in the far corner.” Rogue announces to you.

Turning around from the stone sink, a bright smile overtakes your lips.

“I didn’t even know we had that here. I wonder how many other herbs Storm and Scott have locked away in a cabinet somewhere.” You reply.

Quickly drying off the fruit, you return to the picnic table where Rogue has occupied herself with cleaning and cutting the lavender. Carefully peeling and chopping the fresh lemons, the faint sound of the Blackbird fills the air, signaling that the crew were home. Bouncing on her toes, you can tell how eager Rogue is to see Bobby, so you give her a reassuring nod.

Bolting from her spot at the table, runs through the courtyard and in between the perfectly trimmed hedges. Smiling after her, you happily return to your task.

"I see you found my secret stash." Scott teases.

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you can't help but laugh.

"Oh come on! It's not like you were using it anyway. But you can thank Rouge for finding it. She's got quite the eye." You reply.

Adding some ingredients to the glass pitcher, Rogue returns with Bobby and the rest of the gang.

"Speaking of having an eye, maybe don't mention the new uniforms to your beloved Wolverine. It was like pulling teeth with him just to wear these damn things. He's still a little sensitive." Scott explains, grabbing a glass.

"Who's still a little sensitive?" Storm asks, placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh you know, the moody and broody Logan over there. Besides, the mission was a little rough." Jean teases, blindly aiming her thumb behind her.

"Or rather: Logan was a little rough." Scott interjects.

"Guys, you all look absolutely amazing. Regardless of how eye-catching the suits are, they still prove who we are." You state.

Pouring everyone a glass of the lemonade, the crew slowly depart from the picnic table, and you sit on the wooden surface. In the meantime, Logan slowly and surely makes his way over to you.

"Heya darlin'." Logan says.

Joining you at the table, he leans against the edge, and finally focuses on you. Taking in his tired features, the sight of Logan's light hazel eyes bring a sense of peace to your chest.

"Hi, Lo." You reply.

Silently smiling at you, Logan leans toward you, pressing a loving kiss to your lips.

"I've missed you, bub. I wish you were on the mission with you. We really could've used you. Besides, these suits didn't help either. They already need to be repaired." Logan admits.

Briefly turning around, Logan lets you examine a few slashes and dents caused by bullet holes. Running your fingers over the ridges in the damaged fabric, Logan turns back around to face you.

Carefully placing his hands on either side of your hips, you calmly stroke his cheeks. Feeling a little pit of disappointment rise in the pit of his stomach, Logan tries to open his mouth to speak his mind, but you place a finger on his lips.

"I know what you're going to say and you don't need too. While the mission didn't go the way you wanted, at least you all tried. You tried, Logan. And that's what matters. Even if yellow might secretly be your color and you look pretty damn sexy in it." You clarify, not letting go of Logan.

Earning a rare full smile from Logan, he kindly laughs at your joke. Suddenly, the heavy weight of the mission gradually leaves Logan's chest just as he leans his forehead against your own. Embracing the moment, a great wave of tranquility consumes Logan in the best way possible, as long as you are by his side.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasmos-blog

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

[a-hazbin-reader]

I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him

You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷

Ooh this is just juicy-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous

Description: 👆⬆️

Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died

He knows this, he also had a life before you

A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...

But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close

It makes him...feel something bad...

The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other

You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself

He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him

Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means

But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??

You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening

You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband

You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?

Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?

Because you loved people for more than that...

Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did

Everything you enjoyed without him in your life

He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight

"Alastor? Darling?"

Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing

"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."

And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions

"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"

He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut

The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy

Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight

You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting

He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-

...your past...

Oh that stupid man of yours

It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you

You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily

One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you

And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows

But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him

He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple

He's missed being so close to you, he really has

"We need to talk, darling one..."

This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two

"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"

He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs

You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest

"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."

He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight

"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."

He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all

You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him

"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."

Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...

"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."

So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died

If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life

He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck

Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent

He doesn't like being open and vulnerable

"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."

Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter

"You wouldn't-"

"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."

That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you

"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"

He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened

You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers

Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world

You meant every word

When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time

He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored

The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time

Angel...shut up...

Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times

"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"

"And LIVED!"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[bitchface24-7]

You were so so right about everything being smut like please please please some fluff or something

On the request note, can we get some reader cuddling Jayce after he has a nightmare and making sure he is fine, all warm and toasty under the comforter, playing with his hair maybe scratching his beard? I am such a sucker for nightmare hurt/comfort😩😩😩😩

I’M RIGHT HERE, SEE? - JAYCE X READER

synopsis: everyone suffers the odd nightmare or two. Its a normal occurrence. Now, when one has PTSD due to the cold, and it’s a cold winter’s night. Your brain may take you back some place you never wished to see again.

warnings: jayce has a nightmare and wakes up in a panic, he cries silently as he checks up on you, you wake up and comfort him, hurt/comfort, reassurance, sleepy cuddles, playing with hair, listening to heartbeats

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I love this idea! I'm so happy that people like my writing enough to give me their ideas to jot down for the rest of you. Makes my heart flutter every time I see my inbox has something in it.

Jayce hates the cold, he hates winter. He can't stand it. It makes his palms sweat, his breathing pick up, and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

Ever since he and his mom were stuck in that blizzard, he can't see the snow or the cold the same way again. Its why he has such an obsessive love for magic. Magic saved him and his mom.

But it's not saving him now.

He's trying his best to shield you from the storm, using his much larger body compared to when he was a kid to protect you from the biting wind and icy snow.

But it’s useless. Your body is stiff, unmoving. Its cold to the touch, your lips are blue as are your nails.

You're experiencing hypothermia. No, you experienced hypothermia.

You're dead.

You're dead and it’s all Jayce's fault. He couldn't protect you, he couldn't keep you safe, he couldn't rely on magic this time to save you both. You're dead.

Jayce picks up your dead body and cries. He cries his heart out. He wails into the night sky begging and praying to gods he hasn't even thought of to save you.

To take him instead.

He puts his head your chest and whimpers when he doesn't hear that familiar beat.

He—

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He wakes up with a strangled gasp, shivering due to the night times fresh breeze. He's hyperventilating. His breathing slowly comes down to a normal pace when he realizes he's in your shared bedroom. He sees the basic night light plugged into the wall, he sees your wardrobe and dressed. He can faintly see the paintings on the wall.

Jayce covers his mouth with one of his hands and weeps silently. He looks over and sees you resting peacefully. He needs to make sure you're alive. He puts his hand on your back and feels the slight rise and fall of your breathing, he feels the warmth of your skin.

You're alive.

You're grumbling now as you slowly wake up.

You rub your eyes and sleepily ask, “Jayce? What's wrong? Why’re you up at—” You take a glance over to your bedside table, “Two forty-five in the morning?”

Your sleepiness vanishes when you turn over and see Jayce's watery eyes and the fact he's crying silently. You scooch over and immediately wrap your arms around him, putting his head on your chest as you run your hand through his hair. The other hand rubs his back.

“Shh Jayce. Shhhh. It’s okay. Whatever it is, it wasn't real. You're okay.”

Jayce's crying slowly halts as your comfort takes over his mind. You stay like that for a few minutes before you break the silence, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jayce purses his lips and nods lightly. You continue to stroke his back and play with his hair as he speaks in a desolate tone. You never want to hear that tone a voice again, “We were stuck in a blizzard. Like the one my m—mum and I were in as a kid. Except— except there wasn't a mage there to save us. I tried everything to save you but you still died! You died and it was my fault!”

As Jayce gets amped up due to his dispair, you lightly shush him, kissing his forehead, “Jayce, I'm right here, see? Listen to my heart. It’s beating just fine.”

Jayce does just that, he presses his head firmly into your chest and closes his eyes, then he hears it.

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

Thu-thump

A shaky sigh leaves his lips. There it is. There's your heartbeat. At the confirmation of you being okay, Jayce's anxiety levels drop. He feels exhausted. He never wants to experience fear like that again; even if it's false.

Seeing how serene Jayce is, you tuck the blankets over you two, ensuring not a speak of Jayce was left out in the fresh night breeze. You continue to physically ground him, playing with his hair, rubbing circles into his back, scratching his beard lightly and tracing his features.

Eventually, Jayce falls back to sleep, much more tranquil than he was before. In what feels like no time you fall asleep too, with a hand left in Jayce's hair and one on his back. He's the perfect weighted blanket.

You hope Jayce never experiences a nightmare like that again, but if he does; you’re there to take care of him.

This one is quite short but I hope it still hits all the feels. This one was nice to write, but I didn't want to drag it out too much. It'd feel disingenuous if I did that. Asks are still open (I can't imagine closing them unless I get too many in one shot)

[ashen-char]

i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving

summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.

word count: 2700+

By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.

The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.

You had danced with another girl, sure.

Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.

Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.

Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost—you still don't think you did anything wrong, feel that Amber's reaction went way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so

"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.

Mocking you? How mature.

Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever” under her breath.

You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain—a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.

Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.

Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.

So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.

“What are you—"

"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"

Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.

“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”

You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.

"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."

"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."

A red light. You breathe out in relief.

Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that. 

Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.

"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"

"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"

Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"

God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.

"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.

Fuck.

The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that, that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.

"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.

"What are you—" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.

Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand—that one is busy on the wheel—so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.

"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.

You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.

"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.

Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.

"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.

The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.

She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away. 

Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.

"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."

A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.

She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."

She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.

Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.

You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.

The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away—she hates you, she hates you, she hates you—but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.

You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.

"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"

It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."

"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her. 

Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.

This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.

Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I—I've never cared this much."

You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.

"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."

This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.

"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.

You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.

"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.

"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."

[emxisms]

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪.

(fem reader)

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Stu Macher, Thomas Hewitt, Tex Sawyer, Michael Myers.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence.

𝕭𝖔 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗

Finds it incredibly attractive at the fact that you would risk your life just for him. He would 100% brag about it to everyone he knows. "My girl would actually kill for me."

Will help you take care of any wounds you may have gotten from the battle. He's got a lot of practice, and knows exactly what to do.

He would want to teach you all about how to defend yourself and him.

𝕾𝖙𝖚 𝕸𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗

He falls even more in love with you, knowing you'll do anything for him. He feels secure knowing that you support him and what he does.

So. Many. Kisses. The man cannot get enough of you. He thinks you look so beautiful, even when you're bloody. He thinks you look super hot covered in blood.

Begs you to help him and Billy with Ghostface. He totally understands if you don't want to, and how you only did what you did to keep him alive.

He will want every detail on how you felt when you did it. "Did you like it? How did you feel? Would you ever do it again?"

Wants to marry you. He thinks you're the perfect woman. Heaven sent.

𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝕳𝖊𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖙

Why? You didn't have to do that. You could've been hurt. He doesn't want his favorite person in any risk. Don't do it again.

He would freak out. He would think it's awesome how devoted you are to him. It's so reassuring to him, he never understood why you stayed with him. He thinks he's a beast, an awful human. He never thought he deserved you or your love, but you doing this silenced all of his thoughts.

Would never take you out of his sight again. He wont allow himself to let you get hurt, accidentally or purposefully. He hates seeing you in pain.

If Hoyt makes any remarks about how "You're stupid for putting your life at risk for such a waste of life" he would be on his feet in seconds. He can't stand him, and he draws the line at you. He refuses to let Hoyt touch you. Ever.

𝕿𝖊𝖝 𝕾𝖆𝖜𝖞𝖊𝖗

In awe. He swears he can never fall in love more than he already is, but it just keeps happening. He finally found a woman that isn't afraid of his lifestyle.

"Well, darlin' you've got me swept off my feet. You're jus' perfect."

Pulls you in for a million hugs and kisses. XOXO to the max. He tries to convince you to help with the family's routines / hunts, and completely melts if you agree.

Would jokingly ask you to do the same to Alfredo.

𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝕸𝖞𝖊𝖗𝖘

Not happy. He had it covered. Don't get yourself hurt because of him.

Throws you down and forces you to let him clean you up. Even though he's not happy that you risked your life, he still cares. He loves you, and will care for you.

He refuses to let you go out alone. He's scared you might get hurt again.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:☆

Requests are open! ☑️

(check pinned post).

[sassypantsjaxon]

Zoro offers to kill Judge

When Sanji returns from Whole Cake and his wedding and Luffy and Nami will only tell him the barest details because it's Sanji's business to tell and he isn't saying anything. Zoro says he can go and kill Judge right now and still be back in time to fight Kaido. His captain tells him No. Sanji wanted them alive. Zoro respects that, but he still offers again when Sanji finally tells him why he had to ask Zoro to kill him. Sanji manages to fake a laugh through his tears as he tells Zoro No, that's not necessary.

It's not the last time Zoro offers. When Sanji starts staring out into the distance, towards where he knows the North Blue must be, with this desolate look on his face. When he buys Zoro a good bottle of sake. When his hands start to tremble with contained strength. When he gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for everyone. There's no rhyme or reason to when or why Zoro offers. As a reassurance, as a thanks, as a promise. Sanji knows he means it, every time, and he denies him every time. He'll never admit how much he appreciates the offer. How much he wants to accept, but he just can't. It becomes a part of their courtship, just as much as their daily sparing. They'll fight over anything and everything, they'll make up again over shared food and clean dishes and naps on the deck, and Zoro will kill Judge for Sanji. Keep his beloved hands clean of his creator's blood. He offers once, in between the proposal and Luffy declaring them husbands, says It can be a wedding present, and is only joking about it being a gift for their wedding. Sanji still laughs when he says No. Sometimes they'll go so long that Sanji starts to wonder if Zoro's changed his mind, that maybe he won't kill Judge for him after all. And then one morning, out of nowhere, Zoro will catch his hand as he he's in the middle of something else, and tell him I'll do it for you, just say the word. And Sanji will tell him Not today. Sometimes he wonders if the only reason he keeps denying Zoro this one thing, it's really because hearing the offer sounds like a reassurance of the other man's love for him. And then Sanji tells Zoro about their child. And Zoro has plenty of his own concerns. Children are so fragile, both their bodies and their spirits so easily broken. But it's different for Sanji. This constant battle between joy to have this little thing growing in him, and the terror that maybe the things he's managed to fight away will be passed on to this innocent party. Zoro offers again. He'd be back home long before the child arrives. Sanji cries and tells him It wouldn't change anything now. It's the first time his answer hasn't been a no. But it's not a yes either, so Zoro waits. Maybe the day Sanji agrees will never come, but Zoro will wait for the rest of his life if the reassurance is the one thing Sanji needs. And their baby comes and Sanji laughs at how terrified Zoro is to hold them for the first time, and they look just like Zoro, and Ussop jokes that Sanji's genes didn't even put up a fight and Sanji just looks so so relieved. Their child is no stronger or more durable than any other child in the world, they cry when they're upset and laugh when they're happy and Sanji couldn't be more relieved. And Zoro knows. He knows what the answer will be the next time he asks. He knows that no child will ever go through the torment that Sanji did. He knows that Judge will never hurt another person. But he doesn't ask. Because he needs Sanji to be absolutely sure of his decision, so he doesn't ask. And still one morning, as Sanji's waking up and Zoro's going to bed, and Sanji is holding their child his his arms, with all the wonder that something so precious could be theirs, and he looks up at Zoro with a lifetime's worth of love, and tells him Yes. And Zoro says Consider it done.

He goes alone. He knows the rest of the crew would join him, destroy all of Germa 66, send it to the depths of the ocean for the sake of their kindhearted cook. But this is only Zoro's promise to keep, so he goes alone. He finds Germa without any trouble. He's always trusted to seas to bring him exactly where he needs to go, and this time is no different. It's big and cold and ugly and contradictory to everything Sanji is. Just having heard about it, Zoro had wondered how his Cook could have come from a place like this. Seeing it for himself makes him wonder even more. It's easy enough to find the palace, even easier to find the throne room. Judge recognizes him immediately. Pirate Hunter. Greatest Swordsman. First Mate to the King of the Pirates. Husband to the failed prince of Germa. It's pathetic, the way Judge begs for his life, promises Zoro anything he could want. There's only one thing he's capable of granting, and Zoro doesn't hesitate to demand it. Reiju named as his successor. He knows it's what Sanji would want. The only way to guarantee Germa's sins won't be repeated, aside from destroying it outright. There are plenty of other things Zoro wants from Judge. But none he's truly able to give. He wants Sanji's peace of mind, for himself and for their child. He wants Sanji to never wake up and fear he's back in that cell again. He wants to take all of Sanji's pain and bear it himself, but this is the best he can do. It's almost not even worth the effort it takes to kill Judge, and he almost feels bad for putting this coward's blood on his swords, except they're begging for it almost as much as Zoro is. He passes Reiju herself as he's leaving the throne room. She takes in the scene with no emotion showing on her face. Zoro isn't sure if her lack of reaction is from the modification Sanji had told him about or if this would be her response anyway. Zoro stops just past her, but doesn't turn back to look at her. Tells her Sanji has a child. Named Sora. They're safe and loved and cared for by the family he's created for himself. He thinks he hears some emotion in her voice as she tells him Good. I'm glad. Zoro doesn't stay to hear anything more. He wants to find the room Sanji was held prisoner in, destroy it, bring this whole place to the ground. But he'd only promised Sanji this one thing. He returns to the Sunny as easily as he had left. He hadn't been gone long. Everything's exactly as he left it. Sanji and Sora are still waiting for him. Sanji falls into his arms, finally free of this weight he's been carrying his entire life, looks up at Zoro with a tear filled smile and tells him Thank you.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

How the Thunderbolts sleep

Yelena/Bucky/John/Ava/Alexei/Bob-Void-Sentry x you

warning : kissing, cuddling, comfort, no use of Y/n, reader is referred to as “you”

Summary : Missions didn't allow time to sleep, so every free minute was used to rest. But is it even possible to sleep well when you're haunted by your past and your life? How does the team called Thunderbolts cope, and how can their partner help them finde peace for a long awaited rest?

info : I just know that they all have nightmares, but that quickly disappears with us as readers ;) Have fun with them all and enjoy reading!

masterlist

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

°Yelena is a light sleeper, even the slightest noise will wake her up. She is a whirlwind in bed; she cannot lie still. Once she is lying straight, she ends up at the foot of the bed a few hours later. The problem with this is that when you lie next to her, she turns you over or throws you out of bed.

°But the blonde is a quiet, almost silent sleeper. It's almost creepy how quietly she sleeps, so much so that you have to check her breathing several times to make sure she's still alive.

°As a little bonus, her 'cuddly toy' is her guinea pig, which she holds in her arms and seems to sleep peacefully for the first time, and you don't fall out of bed.

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

Bucky

°The former Winter Soldier is also a light sleeper. He can sleep deeply when he wants to, but he only does so when his conscience is clear and you reassure him that he can rest, that everything is safe, and that no one is coming to kill his loved ones.

°When he sleeps, he takes off his prosthetic arm, either placing it on the nightstand or cleaning it in the dishwasher. He feels vulnerable and tends to lie with his back to the wall where he can't be attacked, always facing you so he can see the love he wants to protect.

He doesn't move around much and hardly makes a sound, except maybe a sigh when he's in a deep sleep. He tries not to turn away from you and always strokes your cheek before falling asleep, as a kind of ritual marking the end of another day for both of you.

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

John

°John, who learned to sleep anywhere in the military, falls asleep within minutes, at least after he is sure he has given you a goodnight kiss, his hand is on your hip, and he can stop watching over you for a moment.

°Despite his deep sleep, the agent is at least half awake when he hears small noises. If there is danger, he jumps up; if not, he grumbles irritably and goes back to sleep. Sleep was important to him, sometimes a little too important for the former soldier.

°However, he is also protective, his hand on yours or on your hip, wanting to hold you tight and feel secure, even if it means his peaceful breathing is punctuated by sporadic grumbling as he turns and tries to find a comfortable position.

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

Ava

°The experiment had rarely slept, and when it did, it was usually accompanied by pain, which is why Ghost had to get used to sleeping in the same bed as you. However, with lots of cuddles, caring kisses, and bedtime stories, she falls asleep too.

°One thing that's special about Ava is that she ties your hands together with a little ribbon because she's afraid she might disappear and not find her way back. A ribbon that kept you with her and kept you safe, something that was important to her so that her love was with her and didn't go away in such a vulnerable state.

°Funnily enough, she is a relatively loud sleeper, like Alexei, but her almost gentle snoring when she is in a deep sleep is downright cute. Even when she is awake, a calm smile plays on her lips when she sees you before she goes back to sleep.

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

Alexei

°The limousine driver can sleep anywhere and at any time, but like everyone else, he praised the night's sleep he didn't even have to get in bed, but he was very happy to go to bed at your request.

°Alexei is the loudest of them all, a big bear who snores, mumbles, and starts singing the national anthem when he saves the world and makes Russia great again in his dreams. You've learned to deal with it by simply using earplugs, but everyone else usually has to hold their ears.

°The Red Guardian always needs something to hug, which was a pillow in his small, cramped apartment, but once he moved into the tower, that was you. Once he wrapped his arms around you, he wouldn't let go until he woke up, when he would slowly let go of his personal cuddly toy with a big smile.

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

Bob/Void/Sentry

°Bob was a light sleeper. Due to his former drug use, he only ever slept for short periods, just a few hours, during which he was usually haunted by nightmares, which made it difficult for him to sleep. But with you by his side, he hadn't slept so restfully and relaxed in a long time.

°Void, on the other hand, didn't need sleep, and he almost didn't need you either if he hadn't found your warmth so appealing. That's why he used the darkness to have you all to himself, to watch you sleep and try to understand what was so special about this state... maybe he would lie down next to you and just look at you.

°Sentry, realized that when you hug him and stroke his hair, it helps him calm down and fall asleep, and also finds this gesture somehow pleasant. That's why it's a daily bedtime ritual to help him calm down.

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

@neska223 , @bribrisposts , @brisselfshipping , @lilbit32

[buckybabybaby]

puzzle pieces

A/N: Just a very short piece of mostly fluff for my favourite new falcon <3 All the avengers are still alive in this au, not very relevant to the plot but I miss them, so.

Can be read as the same relationship as in first and last if you want.

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x reader (gender neutral)

Plot: Joaquín reassures you when you feel out of place at a party.

Warnings: very mild angst

(fluff, established relationship, self doubting reader, reassuring Joaquín, background Sambuckysteve - mentioned once, bff Bucky)

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist

AO3

***

You have made a mistake. When Joaquín invited you out this evening, to a party, you thought it would be a lot more formal than this, and so you dressed to fit the occasion.

It's an easy assumption to make. Joaquín gets invited to all sorts of events, and the avengers own parties can rival the biggest film premieres and award shows in terms of dresses and suits, so you didn't want to turn up and be mistaken for press, or worse, a crazy fan.

Seeing everyone in their t-shirts and jeans has you stopping short in the entrance, your outfit choice suddenly feeling ridiculous.

You want to leave but Joaquín spots you before you can make a break for it. Waving to you as he takes a last swig of his drink, he claps his friend on the back and makes his way over. As he approaches his smile turns bemused, taking in your outfit.

"You get a better offer, mi amor?" He calls across as he squeezes through the crowd. "Ditching me for something fancier?"

Leaning in to kiss you when he arrives, you struggle not to freeze up and reject him. He takes your hands from where you've crossed your arms and pulls them out to get a good look at what you're wearing.

"Should I buy you a corsage? You look like you're going to prom!" He laughs.

"Don't, Joaquín." You whine, tears welling up in your eyes. "You said it was a party. I wasn't expecting Tony's galas level of dress up, but something closer to that than this."

"Clearly, my pretty pretty baby."

He tries to kiss you again but this time you do pull away. That's when he takes a second to really read your body language, your frown, wet eyes, hunched posture.

His own demeanour changes, softly taking your hand again. "Let's go sit, okay?"

He leads you away from the crowd over to the far side of the bonfire. Pulling you down with your legs over his, he holds you close as you look around the party, at all the carefree people, how different they are from you.

How different you are from Joaquín.

The old doubts come to the surface again and you sigh. "Why are you with me, Joaquín?"

He looks horrified at the out of the blue question. "Sweetheart, what?"

"I'm useless. I can't even work out the dress code correctly for a simple party."

"You're the most beautiful person here, that's not a bad thing."

"But it's more than that." Your voice breaks but you push through. "I always stick out. It takes it all out of me to even get here, let alone interact with others. While for you, it's easy, natural. Don't you want someone who can match that? Someone who doesn't need a weeks notice to prepare themselves to be social?"

Joaquín shakes his head through your whole speech, and as soon as you finish he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

"Nope." He states simply. "The way I look at it, you don't need to be the same to fit together. Like puzzle pieces. We work because we're different. Imagine how tired I'd be if I didn't have someone like you to remind me to chill? To take a break?"

He kisses your forehead this time.

"And I like to think I help you get out of your head sometimes. You always enjoy these parties even if you don't want to go to each and every one, yeah?"

You nod, letting a few tears fall.

"So try to remember that," He finishes, dabbing at your eyes gently. "You keep me calm in this crazy world. I don't want anything else."

Joaquín always knows the right word to say. He also knows when to let you sit quietly, enjoying his company and warmth, admiring how good he looks tonight, skin glowing and curls fluffed out in the way you love.

"Sorry for being silly." You say eventually.

"Never silly, my pretty." He squeezes your waist. "Especially pretty today. If this was a gala you'd be the prettiest, best dressed person there. This outfit is very old school glamour isn't it?" He looks you up and down again, finally clocking your choice of footwear. "Apart from the trainers. I haven't seen these before?"

"They're new."

"I can tell, they are fresh. I need sunglasses looking at them."

You laugh, his efforts to cheer you up working.

"Are you okay to stay?"

Humming in agreement, you add, "Just a little cold. I thought it'd be more inside than this."

"All right, how about this. I get you a plate of all your favourites, and-" Joaquín scans the crowd. "Oh, there's our favourite anti-social super solider. Wanna go keep him company? And I'll find you a sweater."

You look where he's pointing, at Bucky who is sat alone on the opposite side the pit, nursing a beer you know has no effect.

Nodding, you let him press a longer kiss to your lips before he bounces off, making you giggle at how full of energy he is.

Scooting around the edge of the fire, you wave to Bucky as you get near and he stands to pull you into a hug.

"Hey, glad you made it."

You snort. "Only just. And looking like I missed a turn on the way to the Oscars."

"Nah, you look good. Better to be over dressed than under, I think."

Bucky brings you to sit close, watching you carefully for a moment.

"Don't doubt how good you are for Joaquín, okay?" He says, tone serious. "That boy adores you as you are. You don't need to be anything more for him."

You blink at him, surprised. "Did you hear?"

"Not on purpose. Super solider hearing is a curse sometimes, sorry."

"It's okay." You give him a small smile. "Thank you for saying that."

"Only because it's true. Like he said, I don't want to think how much more insufferable he'd be if you weren't able to rein him in at times."

Bucky being playful is a rare sight and you laugh in delight at his faux insult. "Speaking of annoying boyfriends, where's yours?"

"Over there."

He gestures to the ping pong tables, where Sam and Steve are playing some sort of drinking game with a few others you don't recognise. The rules seem unclear even for those partaking, Sam looking a lot more gone than anyone else and half hanging off Steve as he cackles loudly.

"I'm leaving them to it for now."

"Sensible." You say, remembering all the times you've sat with Bucky, watching your boyfriends cause mayhem together before eventually intervening to advert disaster. You wouldn't be surprised if tonight ends in a similar way.

Joaquín returns, placing two full plates on the table and draping the sweater he found over your shoulders. The scent of his cologne washes over you and you snuggle into it, letting Joaquín wrap you up in his embrace and offer you the first bite of food.

"This all for me?" You ask once you've finished chewing.

"Too much? I wanted you to have a bit of everything. Sam's sister Sarah provided a lot so you know it's going to be good." He gets another fork full ready, adding, "Anything you don't want I'll have."

He goes to feed you again and you try to protest, taking the cutlery yourself. He takes it back just as quick.

"Let me, please."

Typical Joaquín, always looking after you. Your heart warms, but you still ask, "Don't you want to go back to your friends?"

"I am with friends. As much as Bucky likes to pretend otherwise."

Bucky looks like he's going to object, giving up and admitting dryly to you, "I'm warming to him."

"Ha!" Joaquín almost jumps out of his seat, only held back by being entangled with you. "From Bucky that is practically a confession of love."

"Don't push your luck kid."

Bucky hides his smile behind his bottle, you own growing as you watch them together.

However this night started, you're glad you stayed. In the glow from the soft fairy lights, Joaquín sends you a look that says he will always be there, like your matching puzzle piece, stuck together through it all.

***

Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: so, Maddie had still been alive. despite the happy news, there'd been a lot to digest. including and not limited to the tree Ajay had shown Wally, the barrier, and whether or not anyone could've gotten Mina to talk.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.23

A solemn, almost betrayed silence fell over the ghosts. Apart from Wally, that was, who'd already had a lesson on In Betweens and had accepted your theory about how not dead Maddie was. Even Maddie seemed reluctant to believe you, face pinching and posture shrinking.

"I don't understand." She whispered as she gazed hard at your outstretched hand. "What do you—I'm dead." She staggered back, out from under Wally's touch which resulted in you no longer being able to see her.

Talking to the air, you urged, "Please, Maddie, I'll explain, just...I need you to take my hand. You have to invite me in." You had no clue if she was still within reach, but you kept your hand up, desperate for her to open the door to her In Between and allow you in.

Wally took over, sensing your distress, "Mads, listen to her. She knows what she's talking about."

"Oh, and you know that after one day?" Rhonda sniped, giving Wally a nasty look. You didn't think it was because of you and Wally. It felt more general; probably a reaction to Maddie's aliveness. And after being dead and trapped in the place she'd been killed, no hope of escape for sixty years, you couldn't blame her.

Wally leveled Rhonda with a stern expression, "Yeah. I do." He shifted his gaze to where you assumed Maddie stood, softening, "Please, just try it." After a short beat, "What do you have to lose?" Another beat. Wally asked you, "Does she have to say anything?"

"She just has to vocalize that she's inviting me in." You said, hopeful.

He gave you a reassuring smile and nod, squeezed your waist before dropping his hand and stepping back. You immediately missed his warmth. The hard line of his body against your side. But that was soon enough rectified when you felt a delicate weight in your hand. Looking down, you saw Maddie's hand, up to her arm, to her shoulder, to her eyes where tears gathered.

"I invite you in." She said and her voice was so quiet you barely heard the words.

It didn't matter, your soul heard them. The Awen and the earth heard them. A slight tickling sensation zipped under your skin and settled in your palm where you and Maddie were connected. And that was it.

"Is...that it?" Ajay wondered, coming closer to inspect both you and Maddie, seeming somewhat let down by the lack of thunder and lightning. "That wasn't as...magical as I thought it was going to be."

Your face flattened, "It's not magic, it's connectedness." Gentler, to Maddie, "You can let go," and you opened your fingers.

She didn't. She tightened her grip and stared at you in a mixture of fear and hope. "How do you know I'm not dead?"

"Because I couldn't see you."

"So? Simon can't see us." Rhonda pointed out, appearing at Ajay's side as Charley came around and stood beside Maddie.

"But he can see her." You said, "Because they have a soul-tie." At everyone—but Wally's—perplexed looks, you expounded, "I can see dead people. I can't see alive people who Travel out of their bodies unless I share blood or a soul-tie with them."

"I'm not dead." Maddie murmured, stumbling back and collapsing to the ground on her ass. She stayed like that, gazing into the distance, completely silent for a long moment before she gasped in a thick breath and fell back, hands over her face. "I'm alive," She laughed wetly, and you weren't sure what to do.

Charley did. He went to her, plopped down beside her and gave her a small smile. As much as it seemed he wanted to sound positive, his tone was somber when he said, "You're alive."

You allowed them a moment to sit with it. Mostly for Maddie's sake. But you had something to say, something they needed to hear or you and they would all be in trouble.

"Guys. Look." You bit your lip, cast about warily for a moment as you gathered the confidence to set the one rule you needed followed. "I'm sorry I never tried to help before. I've known about you since I started here. So did my sister, my mom, my grandmother...my whole family." A tense yet tentative beat, "I should've tried to help sooner."

"But you didn't." Rhonda said unkindly, hip cocked and lips pursed.

You stared at the ground. Took a deep breath in, a sharp breath out, "No. I didn't. Because we're all bound to the same rule. And if anyone finds out that I'm doing this," You indicated to the situation in general, "My great-aunt or my mother will step in and...and you'll all be gone. And not the warm, fuzzy, go-into-the-light gone."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

In the loaded wake of your statement, Wally couldn't stand not touching you anymore. He shuffled forward and pulled you close, hands wandering down your back before he wrapped his arms securely around you.

He scanned his friends' faces. The assortment of reactions to the news of Maddie's situation as well as the unasked question you needed everyone to answer.

Rhonda was tight-jawed and struggling. Charley was lost in thought. Ajay was...Ajay. Controlled and reserved and taking it all in stride.

What broke the silence was Rhonda's biting, "Fine. I won't say anything. It's not like we aren't already keeping secrets." Simon, she didn't have to clarify. Another uncomfortable stretch of silence as Ajay and Charley nodded in agreement, then Rhonda said, "So cherrypop is alive," her bitterness blatant beneath the pragmatic tone she used. "Now what? Do you escort her out of here and back to her body?"

"I wish it was that easy." You admitted, brows furrowing. Wally placed a kiss to your hair and then repositioned so he was at your back, his hands on your hips. "Something is keeping you guys stuck here. The fact that you supposedly can't leave school grounds isn't normal. As ghosts, you should have a lot more agency than that. Like, way more than the living."

"And the plot thickens..." Rhonda muttered, the muscles in her jaw ticking as she ground her molars.

Charley and Maddie wore identical expressions of alarm. Recovering quicker, Maddie asked, "You're saying that someone is trapping ghosts here on purpose?"

"Seems that way, yeah."

"What about Mr. Anderson?" Wally could see the gears turning in Maddie's head, "Could he have done this somehow?"

"He wasn't around until ten years ago," Wally answered her, repeating what you'd said that morning, "He might've just taken advantage of the situation."

You nodded to confirm, "Simon and I definitely think he's got something to do with how Maddie was forced out of her body in the first place." Looking at Maddie, you said, "Simon told me about the phone call and the money in the supply closet. I'd hoped he'd be able to get something out of Anderson's phone but—"

"He stole Mr. Anderson's phone?" Maddie gawped, "Is that why the cops took him?"

"Possibly," You replied, "And now they're not even looking at Anderson because they think Simon had something to do with your disappearance."

Maddie's temper flared, "But he didn't!"

"I know that and you know that, which is why I'm here. We have to find something that'll make the cops take Anderson in."

"Everyone here in favor of checking the theater?" Wally asked since you'd been hellbent on going there when you'd arrived, and Maddie had done her own recon earlier. "He went nuts on babygirl last night when she and I were in there."

Rhonda studied Wally briefly, her dark eyes drilling into him, "So that's where you went after supper."

"Yeah," Wally cleared his throat, "We wanted to talk about Maddie and stuff." He could feel the blush on his cheeks, pressed his lips together sheepishly and avoided Rhonda's gaze.

Rhonda gave Wally a look of sardonic glee, "You didn't get a lot of talking done, did you?"

"Shut up." Wally grumbled while Charley unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh behind his fist. Attempting to bring the focus back to what was important, Wally said, "So. Theater? Yes, no?"

Maddie sighed as she got to her feet, "I tried talking to Mina. She wasn't exactly a fountain of information, but I found this on the floor. I was hoping to ask her about it..." She fished something out of her back pocket and handed it to you.

The Blue Devils patch Maddie had shown him, Rhonda, and Charley just before the connection had stolen Wally away. You inspected it, chuckling, "Wow. I didn't think these were still around."

"You know what it is?" Maddie asked, "Because I didn't until tonight."

"Ora was a Blue Devil," Ajay said as if lost in thought, staring at the patch. "She played tuba."

"It's crazy that you know that." You said wistfully through an amused smile. To the group, "Yeah, she was in the band. She still has her uniform and everything."

Maddie mumbled, "I keep forgetting she's, like, twenty years older than you."

"Seventeen," You corrected, and then, "She could've easily ended up being one of the bus crash kids, but she was sick that day. I wasn't even born, so I don't know much, but the way Rory tells it she got food poisoning from the cafeteria lunch the day before. Best worst day of her life."

"Jesus Christ," It fell out of Wally's mouth before he could stop it, stunned that your sister had almost wound up a ghost like the rest of them. Would she have been a looper, too? Or would she have been the only one of the bunch to snap out of it?

Fuck, it wasn't worth thinking about, Wally reprimanded himself, his hands unconsciously slipping under your sweater to rest skin-to-skin on your waist.

"I know," You mused, sober, "If she hadn't eaten the fish sticks, she'd be dead."

"It was on the floor in the theater." Maddie said, "It might be connected to why Mr. Anderson didn't want you in there. Don't ask how, but I know it means something and I know Mina has the answers."

Wally eyed Ajay, wasn't sure if he should out Ajay and Mina's relationship for the sake of getting Mina to talk. Ajay returned Wally's stare with a minute shrug.

"Mina won't listen to me, man." He said aloud, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Girl will take a bribe, though."

Charley squinted at Ajay, "Why would or wouldn't she listen to you?"

"They're dating. Or something." Wally explained.

Both Rhonda and Charley paused, glanced at each other then back to Ajay and demanded in unison, "How does that work?"

"That's what I wanna know!" Wally pointed imploringly at Ajay with his hand.

Ajay raised a brow at Charley, "Yeah, because you don't make a suspicious number of late night visits to the Art room..."

Charley blushed crimson. Rhonda panned her head to fix him with an impressed smirk. Wally pouted because, "Is everyone here hooking up and I don't know about it?"

"Bernie and I are friends, you know." Ajay said, insinuating something Wally couldn't quite parse out.

"That's amazing. Say a word and I'll find a way to end you." Rhonda gave him a malicious smile.

Ajay didn't utter another word. Just stood there with a smug, secretive smile on his face. From below, your giggle made Wally grin, and he found himself squishing you in a backwards hug and attacking your face with kisses. Just because.

"Tell me you and Mina aren't that gross," Charley groaned to Ajay.

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

Maddie cast about and said, "Guys, can we please get back to helping Simon?" Everyone settled to listen to her. "I have an idea."

You stared at Maddie, long and hard, and then offered, "Alright, tell me what you need to get Mina to talk, Mads, and I'm on it."

Filled with determination, Maddie said, "We need to find some flowers."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You felt a lot better now that there was a plan in place. Given that Nanna had stored a fair amount of stock from the family flower shop at home, you'd put yourself in charge of arranging the bouquet for Mina. You'd come to school at fucked o'clock in the morning—as early as you were allowed to be there. Mina would divulge what she knew. You would take that information to the appropriate authority and then, bing bang boom, Simon would be free and Mr. Anderson would be arrested.

Fingers crossed.

You'd text Xavier when you got home later and tell him not to bother getting up early. It was just past 1AM, you saw when you checked your phone, and he was definitely still up, Xavier a bit of an insomniac in times of stress.

"Great, now that that's settled," Rhonda began in that same prickly tone, "Can we talk about why Goldilocks can't get back into her body because we're trapped?"

You peeked up at Wally, wanted to see if he was comfortable with you explaining, but he was already looking at Ajay. Shifting your gaze, you noticed Ajay steeling himself. One breath, two, eyes closed and then opened. Obviously not one who enjoyed being the center of attention.

Eventually, he said, "About that. There's something I want you guys to see."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Ajay was ahead of you; Rhonda, Charley, and Maddie brought up the rear, leaving you and Wally to walk together in the middle.

"I thought I was going to have a heart attack," He admitted, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pressing a tender kiss into your hair. Butterflies erupted in your belly, the casual affection he'd been doting on you during and since the rooftop making you swoon, pleasantly dizzy from it. "I thought Rhonda was going to push me off the roof."

"If she did, I'd push her," You promised, cheeks pinking as you regarded him. Wally looked particularly handsome in the moonlight, his features striking. Your pulse quickened as you soaked him in, those sweet-sultry eyes blinking at you when he panned his head to grin down at you. "I've got your back," You finished, tongue suddenly too big for your mouth.

Ajay stopped a few meters in front of a tree you recognized as one of several that students carved their initials into. It was unspectacular, normal; bushy leaves in autumn colors, and twisty with knots and thick roots. The others caught up eventually, Charley marching a couple more steps ahead of Ajay before Ajay caught him by the back of his jacket.

"Don't want you to end up back in the cafeteria," Ajay said, pulling Charley back to a safe distance.

So, this was the almighty barrier Wally had mentioned. At least, a segment of it. You produced your phone from the pocket of your sweater, turned on the flashlight, and carefully neared the tree. Mindfully, you picked your way around the bottom of the tree, still managed to stumble and trip here and there where the roots were difficult to see.

Nothing stood out to you; some hearts, some graduating years, even a few profanities and one clumsy dick with a crudely marked phone number beneath it. Ordinary stuff that most high schoolers thought was hilarious or edgy.

Returning to the starting point, you placed your hand on the trunk, ridges rough under your palm. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breath, deep and even inhales and exhales as you attempted to connect to whatever energy might be hidden within the tree's heartwood.

You'd never tried to feel out another person's connectedness before. Nanna had taught you years ago, before Aiden was even born, but you'd never had a reason to do it.

You could sense the spectral energy of the ghosts behind you, a buoyant, antigravitational vibration. You felt something else ahead of you, barely a hum, as if caged within a lead box—blurry and distant and altogether difficult to pinpoint. In tandem ghost and human. Perhaps another ghost wandering the woods, following a living person who was taking a shortcut...

Then, quite suddenly, a piercing thrust of malicious, vantablack energy made itself known, shoving into you through your palm and sending you stumbling back over the raised roots. Your heel caught and you landed hard, phone falling face-down in the dirt.

"Are you okay?!" Charley called, arms braced against Wally who'd clearly tried to dash forward to your rescue, likely forgetting that he'd be transported back to the football field.

"Babe!?"

You raised a thumbs up and took a moment to let the adrenaline settle. "Fine," You assured, "Probably gonna bruise nasty, but nothing I can't handle." You heaved yourself into a sitting position, eyes scanning up the tree, following the cone of light from your phone to just above the faintest part of its reach. Frowning, you rolled yourself forward onto hands and knees, grabbed your phone and held it up to bring more light to a specific portion of the tree.

"No. Fucking. Way." You gawked.

"What is it?" Rhonda wanted to know, staring at you with a hard expression before glancing between the others. They all shared her question, each taking tiny, measured steps forward.

"It's...it looks like a ritual mark." You told them because, above all the depravity and memory-making, a strange symbol was etched into the bark, the cambium beneath blackened with age. A vertical line that bisected an unsymmetrical diamond with an X slashed through it. You took a picture of it, examined it on your phone as you rejoined the others. The symbol was as familiar as it wasn't; something in its nature niggled at the back of your mind.

In the years before everything had gone to shit, Ginny had spent countless afternoons delighting you with lessons on the craft. She'd taught you about the flora and fauna that harbored ancient energy; what talismans actually benefited the wearer and what were cheap, souvenir shop gimmicks. You'd enjoyed two whole days listening to her lilt the runic alphabet—fehu, uruz, thurisaz, and so on.

The symbol in the tree appeared to be a personal representation of a ritual rune, unlike any you'd seen before; its design unique to the individual and whatever purpose they'd needed it to serve.

"The barrier feels weakest here," Ajay said, "I was hoping you could find a way to break it."

You hummed in acknowledgment, completely transfixed as you continued to search your memory for the runes Ginny had shown you. "Yeah..." And then, when you'd processed what Ajay had said, "No. Even though it feels weaker, it isn't. The energy is just stretched outward."

"What does the mark mean?" Wally asked, arm already outstretched for you to tuck yourself under. An invitation your body instinctively accepted before your brain caught up to how you'd slid into Wally's space like you were meant to be there.

You lifted your phone to show him the screen, "It looks like someone just hacked random runes together to make their own, but..." Skirting your attention to Ajay, "I bet there are other places around the school where the barrier feels different, too?"

"Four others." Ajay nodded.

"About equidistant apart?"

"That sounds about right, yeah."

Maddie ventured closer, "What does it mean?"

A shiver ran down your spine as you shifted your gaze back to the tree, the weight of the truth looming in the deep, eerie blackness behind it. "It means this was planned."

At that precise moment, a twig snapped in the shadows. Wally repositioned himself, shoving you behind him so he could put himself between you and whatever was out there. The others were on-guard around you as well, the circle they'd stood in shrinking as a figure appeared from the darkness.

You held your breath, heart racing, and took an instinctive step back. Wally's form blocked you from seeing who it was, but your gut screamed at you to run run run, get out, leave, run, that sense of ghost-human energy shuddering through your veins.

You were ready to submit to the feeling only for, "Oh, hey!" a familiar voice split through the night, god dammit, seriously?!

"Who is that?" Charley inquired of the group at large.

Quickly, you shoved your phone back into your pocket, moving around Wally in as natural a manner as possible to call out, "What are you doing here, Dave?"

Dave emerged from the shadows, blond hair and bright white teeth catching the distant lamplight. He seemed momentarily confused, as if not quite sure where he was, looking about him. But the moment his eyes landed on you, he smiled again.

His expression turned to one of concern, then startled as he tripped over a raised root, looked about himself, shook himself off, and continued toward you. Up close, you could see his eyes were strained at the corners, his smile a little too tight, a thin film of sweat on his brow. Dave didn't look so good, the most unsteady you'd ever seen him.

Despite predicting what was about to happen, you weren't ready for Dave to haul you into a friends-and-family hug, his arms pinning your elbows to your sides and wringing you hard enough to expel the air from your lungs.

"You snuck out," And was he telling you that? His tone grated against your ear. "I've been looking for you."

"Well, here I am," You coughed with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. When the hell had Dave started to give a shit about your whereabouts? Your own mother didn't care as long as you brought home good grades and the potential of a bright future.

You wriggled out of his embrace, putting some necessary distance between you and him as he motioned to usher you to his car, "I parked down the street. Come on, let's get you home."

"I'm fine, Dave." You said, really, really fighting not to sound as unpleasant as Aurora nagged that you always did when speaking to him.

You wanted to argue, to stay and have Ajay show you the other points where the barrier's intensity was altered, however, Dave seemed insistent on getting you and him out of there. Covertly, you glanced at Wally, wordlessly asking for his input.

"It's okay, baby, we can show you the rest tomorrow morning." He said, and the others followed, murmuring their reassurance at separate intervals. All but Rhonda, who peered intently into the darkness where Dave had materialized.

"We've totally got this," She added belatedly, distant, distracted, but you took it for the endorsement of your surrender that it was and resigned yourself to trailing Dave to his car.

A scant step or two from the school property line, you heard footsteps behind you. Dave was far enough ahead, nattering on about work and sleep schedules and circadian rhythms, that you risked turning to see who it was.

Wally jogged up to you, all cheeky smirk and boyish charm, and grabbed you by the arm, abruptly drawing you flush against him and, in a flash, delivering a deep, heated kiss to your lips. His large hand cradled your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek, as he teased your bottom lip with his teeth. A streak of want burned through you, coiling in your belly. A whimper escaped you that Wally swallowed greedily and you could feel the shape of his smirk against your mouth.

As soon as it had begun, it was over. A one-and-done moment. So fast that by the time Dave noticed you weren't at his back, Wally had already detached from you, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. "Just wanted to say goodnight properly," He chuckled, licking his lips as if to savor your taste.

You hated him just a little bit because you couldn't say anything back. Couldn't tease him or tell him how much you wanted more; couldn't yank him into another searing kiss and have him lay you down in the grass; couldn't do anything except—

"Let's go, champ!" Dave called with his patented Real Estate smile, jingling his keys to signal for you to come. Like a dog. Your faced pinched in bitterness, an expression Wally seemed to find endearing because he chuckled and shook his head fondly.

"Better go, baby, or he might try to hug you again."

"Oh my god, I hate him so much." You grumbled under your breath and Wally all but cackled as he retreated toward the school, catching up with the others as they filed through the door.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

In the darkness, meters from the tree you'd been inspecting only minutes ago, a girl wearing your friend's face scowled down at a hand that didn't belong to her, biting her tongue as she pulled one of the loose fingernails from its bed.

That idiot had come out of nowhere and the other was still nearby. As much as she needed to get back into the school, tonight wasn't the night.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-TWO - PART TWENTY-FOUR

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[yandere-sins]

Hello Chief, I was kinda hoping you could continue Yandere Geralt? I was envisioning him chasing the reader through the woods, completely feral. Like he completely snapped after they was able to get away a second time, and prepare themselves for the hunt? What if they were able to get away for like a month or week?! So many options, but you can choose which scenario is best. I just want to read a feral geralt.

Chief... that's a new nickname unlocked! xD Thanks for requesting, sorry for taking so long!! I couldn't come up with a full-on scenario so I opted for more scenic headcanons, hope that is okay! ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ Geralt isn't the same after you managed to escape. Everyone can feel it, not just those who know him. He was always easy to identify as a witcher, but still, the rumors spread about a witcher, shrouded in dark clothes, stalking after prey. They say there's madness in his eyes and blood all over his body from those who crossed his path. If he comes to a town, people are quick to hide away, afraid he might mistake them for who or what he's searching, and he's known to appear in houses at night, searching basements and other hiding spots. No one dares to stop him, too afraid they might be the next victim to his blade. Rumors like these even reach your ears, only making you more careful not to be predictable for him, and so, the hunt continues.

❥ Lots of people and creatures have seen him ride through the forests, sword in hand, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. Geralt doesn't care about who he encounters as long as it isn't who he is hunting. So it's no surprise that people start calling him feral and out of his mind when they encounter him taking a short, calculated break on his travels, always lost in thoughts and shrouded in an unapproachable aura. Some people try to reason with him, get him to trust their information, or take advantage of his situation by selling their own goods, but he's not that stupid. Because you wouldn't be so stupid, so he can't afford it either. Anyone who insists on having a lead won't live to see the day if it turns out to be wrong, so sooner or later, even these people stop approaching him.

❥ Because all he thinks about is you. Strangely enough, he is sure you are still alive and out there somewhere. You are nifty, you have the skills he taught you, and you have something else remarkably: determination. A smile creeps on his face when he imagines you struggling but pushing through. You managed to escape him with all his heightened senses, carefulness, and obsession. You wouldn't let yourself or your new freedom be endangered by carelessness. Geralt trusts in you taking care of yourself as long as he can't, no matter what you must do. And seeing how this is your second attempt already, you are sure to have grown wiser since the last time. Perhaps knowing he is always just a few steps behind you also reassures you. At least, that's what he tells himself.

❥ The ale tastes twice as good with you on his mind, making him sigh blissfully, a shiver of anticipation running through him. Oh, he can't wait to get you back. The thought alone makes his heart pump harder than ever before, his body struck by so many emotions that he can no longer suppress them, no matter if it is unlike him. Geralt thinks of all the things he'll do to you once you are back. Hug you, kiss you—just to name the good ones. Dragging you back to a safe space, crying and screaming, is a given. But this time, he'll also make sure you are gagged so you have time to think about your actions and all the worry you caused. You won't go a day without being chained up after your little stunt, the longer it takes to get you back, the more inclined Geralt is to break some bones to immobilize you further.

❥ Thinking about you is the only thing that can keep him sane. He feels like he has already lost too much, so without you, his carefully crafted nonchalantness, the calm and unbothered personality he has fooled everyone with, breaks into a million pieces. Only a handful of people got to see his other sides, the ones that are softer, kinder, less hard, and shaped by the world's darkness and his own discipline. But there are also sides only you have seen, the obsessive, possessive ones. Protectiveness lies in his field of work, but he's behaving like a dog only around you. It's something other people would be too scared to see, and at some point, you were, too. But now that you escaped him, you have proven that you understand him. You know what it takes to be with him and to take him on. What it's like to challenge him, order him, love him. You are the only one worthy of losing himself over, just like he thought. You are his.

❥ Every time he sees someone that resembles you, he gets so agitated. Both worry and anger overcome him, and Geralt, usually so good at suppressing unnecessary emotions, is helplessly overwhelmed by the outbursts. He is constantly taken aback when the person doesn't turn out to be you, another piece of his sanity breaking off as he immediately lets go of them again, not caring if they are hurt or if other people call out to him. How could he have mistaken them for you? They weren't even close to you. Nothing about them was as perfect and breathtaking as you are. It honestly disgusts him that he even touched them, and Geralt's been through a lot of shit before so that really shouldn't matter.

❥ On the lonely nights out in the woods, he barely sleeps, always listening, waiting for a sign of you. A small laugh, the snapping of twigs, your breath in his ear. If he didn't know it better, he'd say you are a daydream even in this nightmare he has to endure because of you. All he can do is imagine your hands on his body again, your sweet voice whispering apologies, your hair brushing his skin as you curl up against his chest. Life could be easy like this, peaceful, gentle. He could love you again and for the rest of your life, even after you ran from him. But every time Geralt does close his eyes, it's with the knowledge that he'll have you back. He will find you. Losing you isn't an option; it's not even a consideration. And then he'll hold you again, kiss you, tell you, you are safe as he wipes away the tears that will undoubtedly fall after your reunion. The thought of breaking your legs tastes amazing on his tongue, but the greatest pleasure will be telling you he loves you again.

[aperrywilliams]

Satellite Call. Part VI: Let Me Hold Your Hand Again (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Words count for this part: 4.5k

Series summary: Your world crushes when Spencer is arrested. Between finding a way to get him out and keeping you afloat, there is something else you need to focus on, too. And even when you thought things couldn’t go worse, a tragedy makes you question if you can make it through.

Part VI summary: THIS IS THE END. After your encounter with Cat Adams, everything goes down quickly. You're in the hospital, and Spencer has been released from Milburn with a lot of questions and the fear that maybe he can't talk to you ever again. Life would be merciful enough to give you a new chance and start?

Series warnings: ANGST (with CAPS). 18+ (MDNI). Some heavy topics will be discussed and shown here. Prison arc, but mostly from Reader's perspective and Emily’s. More detailed under the cut.

Spencer lies to his wife. Drug consumption (against their will). Pregnancy symptoms. Spencer is in jail for more than three months. Hospital visits, doctor’s info dumping (not accurate). Alcohol consumption. Arguing. Strong language. A lot of crying. Emotional breakdowns. A car crash happens (as in the CM storyline). Character dies. More hospital things. Miscarriage. More angst. Depressing symptoms. Mourning. Self-doubt. Suicidal ideation, and almost consummated. Emily is everyone’s emotional support.

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Between a mix of autopilot and mental overdrive, Spencer arrives at the hospital. He frantically asks for you at the front desk, and before the nurse can answer, he sees Emily at the end of the hall. JJ and Luke come after him. Spencer literally runs up to Emily while JJ explains to the nurse who he is and why they are there.

“Tell me it’s not true. Tell me she’s okay.” His voice pleads for some kind of reassurance. Spencer still can’t make sense of why you are where you are or if any of this is even real.

“We don't have news yet. They are not sure if she’ll respond to the treatment,” Emily tries to explain.

“But- but why? I mean, JJ told me about Cat, but - is it true? Is she - was she-?” Spencer sputters all the words at the same time.

Emily lets out a deep sigh, guiding Spencer to sit.

“We need to talk.”

Spencer's heart shatters with every word Emily says, explaining and telling him everything that's happened to you over the past few months. It's a lot, and he doesn't know how to take it all in without thinking about all the pain you've been through and the possibility that you may not make it out alive.

Now, many things make sense to him, like why you seemed hesitant the times you visited him, why you stopped visiting him at some point, and why you wrote that letter.

Spencer can’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks. Fuck, he wants to scream, he wants to kill Cat. He wants to turn back time and never even think about going to Mexico.

“What did I do, Emily?” Spencer sobs. He feels so responsible for your current situation.

“Don’t say that. No one could have anticipated what would happen.”

Emily fully expected this. The moment Spencer knew the truth, he’d take responsibility for it. It's the reason why you didn't tell him about the accident and the baby before.

“If she dies, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Spencer cries, burying his face in his hands.

“Hey. Don’t think that. You need to think about how you're going to be there for her from now on,” Emily reminds him, trying to pry his hands out of his face.

“But if-“

“She's strong. She's been all along. It's my fault I left her alone after seeing Cat,” Emily shakes her head. “That moment was too much, even for her.”

“Why did you let her, Em? We know the kind of psycho Cat is.” Spencer’s voice isn’t accusatory; it's pained than everything.

“I tried, believe me. But you know your wife, Spencer. She thought it was the only way to save you. And I hate to admit it, but in a way, she was right.”

You did put yourself in that situation to save him, even if it would hurt you. And it did. You tried to mask it, but it clearly affected you.

What happened to you was a mistake? Was it an intended action? Emily doesn't want to venture, but she’s afraid of how you will deal with this if you make it alive.

Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself. He grasps the fact that he’s a free man but feels the weight of what he has lost and is in danger of losing. You were pregnant, for fuck sake! You did everything by yourself. And still, in the grieving process, you exposed yourself to Cat Adams in full vulnerability. He doesn't deserve you.

“I know what you are thinking,” Emily prompts once she sees Spencer going quiet for too long.

“You should have told me.”

“What could you possibly have done, Spencer? She knew better than anyone where we were standing. I can assure you it wasn't because she didn't want it.”

An hour later, the doctor who is treating you walks into the waiting room and calls your name to your relatives. Emily and Spencer stand in no time.

“He’s the husband; I’m her friend,” she explains. The doctor nods and checks his clipboard before meeting their waiting gazes.

“She’ll be okay,” he starts, and that sole phrase makes Spencer and Emily exhale with relief. “It wasn’t easy to clean her system, though; it almost compromised some vital organs. We found some recent internal injuries, and they bleed, too. Her chart says she was in an accident, and she had a miscarriage.”

Emily nods in silence, and Spencer clenches his jaw and fists.

“I wouldn’t take this lightly. Mistake or not, she almost killed herself. Her healing process won’t be easy.”

“We know, doctor. And believe us, we’ll do everything to help her,” Emily states.

After some explanations about your medical treatment from now on, the doctor allows Spencer to see you. Although you’re still sedated and sleeping.

Spencer can’t help but think how peaceful you look, almost as if you were sleeping on any other day. But he knows better. He knows now. There hasn’t been peace in your life for months.

Looming, he takes in you. Your face is pale, and there are evident traces of dark circles under your eyes. But none of that matters. You’re breathing, and Spencer can’t be more grateful for that fact right now.

It has been months since he last touched you. Gently, he reaches his hand to your face, caressing your cheeks. He has missed you so much. Even if you aren’t aware of it, Spencer traces soft patterns on your skin, admiring you as the most delicate wonder in the world. To him, you are everything and more. No words could ever fully express how deeply you are ingrained in Spencer’s heart and life. You have spent time together, sharing glances, fears, and dreams. That connection was enough for him to fall for you. It gave him the courage to ask you out for the first time and the strength not to faint when you kissed him first.

You have never faltered in your relationship with Spencer. You never got a single doubt about how you felt for him. Since Spencer met you, he knew you would be his rock. As a friend first, then as lovers, ending up tying your life together as husband and wife.

He has been your rock, too. In desperate times when you have felt lost, drained, and confused, Spencer has always been there, happy to know you trust and rely on him.

So why did he not do the same when his mother’s health worsened? He didn't because, even for you, it would have been too much—not for lack of strength on your part, but unfairness. It wasn’t fair to you to carry the weight of his decisions about Diana.

It's a cruel joke that tells itself: you did carry it anyway.

Spencer leans to examine your breathing better and holds your hand. It's cold, but Spencer is confident he can provide some of the warmth you need.

“Baby, I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere; I promise I’ll never leave you again. I’m so sorry. Please, come back to me.”

You can’t reply, but the steady rise and fall of your chest reminds Spencer he has a chance to tell you everything he has to say and what you need to hear.

To seal his promise and plea, he leans a bit more and plants a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“I love you. So much. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

-----

The sterile smell is the first thing you notice when you get into your senses. You recognize it. You’re in a hospital room. How did you get here? The last thing you remember is being on your couch. And the crying, the intrusive thoughts, the desperation to make them go away. You remember the whiskey bottle. And the pills. After that, it’s just a haze.

Now, you can hear the constant bip emanating from the machine controlling your vitals. You’re alive. Your heart is beating.

The next thing you notice is the warmth of a hand over yours, which contrasts with the cold in the room. It’s nice. It’s comforting. You recognize that touch. Spencer.

Slowly, you open your eyes, and they fix on the man looking at you—his mop of curls, his glassy eyes, his stubble. And everything comes at once. In no time, tears start to roll from your eyes.

“Hey, hey. Are you in pain?” Spencer softly asks when he notices that you are squeezing your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry.”

"No. No, no, no. Don't.” Spencer rushes to say, stroking your hand with his. He wants to hold you, to stop your pain, but how? He can’t even fathom the extent of your inner wounds.

"I - I lost her. It's my fault."

A sharp jab reaches Spencer’s heart at your words. ‘Her.’ You’re talking about your baby. But it's a grief he’s not allowed to feel at this moment. You are all that matters right now.

"No, it's not. Please, don't think it is."

How can he convince you none of this is your fault? Words are not enough, he knows, but he has to try.

"I couldn't keep her safe. It was my job to keep her safe,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “And look at me. So weak, look what I did.”

"It's alright. I promise it's going to be alright.” Not letting go of the hold of your hand, he uses the free one to wipe your tears. His own blurring his vision.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I -” You try to think what to say, but your brain is still in a haze, and it's difficult to articulate words. The meds you’re on make you feel quickly tired and sleepy.

So drained and confused, you can’t even fully grasp the fact your husband is there, as a free man, with you. You try to keep your eyes open, but it's hard. Spencer notices.

“It's okay. Close your eyes, honey. You need to rest. I’ll stay right here.” After kissing your forehead, he keeps softly stroking your cheeks. The motion is so comforting that in no time, you surrender to slumber.

When you wake up again, Spencer is sleeping, curled uncomfortably in the chair next to you. The light seeping through the blinds tells you it must be daytime, probably morning, due to the golden reflection on Spencer’s hair.

Taking a deep breath, you try to assimilate the fact that he is really there. And you are, too. And everything unsaid is still uncharted territory.

“You’ll get your back hurt sleeping there,” you say, voice hoarse from not talking for hours. Spencer blinks his eyes open, and a smile is on his face when he sees you awake.

“It's not that bad,” he dismisses. You know he’s lying. “Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Are you hungry?” he asks, shifting in the chair to a sitting position and shaking off the sleep.

“Water would be okay.” Even if you’re not dehydrated, thanks to the IV, your mouth feels dry. Spencer is on his feet to fill a cup with water and hand it to you.

After drinking a few sips, you shift uncomfortably in bed. It's been hours since you have been there - you don’t know how much, but your body feels it.

“How can I help?” Spencer asks, and you shake your head.

“It's okay. I just need to stretch my legs a bit.” Dangling your feet out of the bed, you sit on the edge, curling your toes. You’re dressed in a typical hospital gown. It feels itchy, but it's not your concern right now. Spencer follows your moves with his gaze in silence. He’s happy you can stretch and move, but he is worried about how to go now.

In your sitting position, you inspect your husband’s appearance. His disveleshed hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble adorning his chin. Probably, he’s in the same clothes he had yesterday when JJ, Luke, and Garcia picked him up.

Some treacherous tears start rolling down. You are still an emotional mess. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the crying, but it’s useless. Without a word, Spencer shorts the space between you both, enveloping you in a tight embrace. An embrace that took months to happen. An embrace you longed for so long. If only things would have been different.

“It’s okay. It will be okay,” Spencer muffles his words in your hair, kissing the top of your head. You can’t help but cry harder. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

It’s hard to think of not having this pain inside. You want to believe his promise, though. Burying your face in his chest, you allow yourself to cry openly. Surrendering the control you have been trying to keep to stay afloat.

“I missed you.” Your voice is barely audible, but Spencer can hear you.

“I missed you, too. So so much,” Spencer whispers, softly but surely. Spencer needs you to know he never stopped thinking about you and missing you.

You can’t tell if it lasts seconds or minutes, but feeling Spencer’s arms around you brings some truce to your inner emotional battle. Sadly, you can’t stay like that forever. Parting from him, you look at him deep in the eye. Spencer strokes your hair, trying to figure out what you are thinking.

"Are you not angry with me?" Your voice is barely there as if you’re afraid of his answer. Spencer frowns at you.

"No. Of course not. Why would I?”

"I didn't tell you. And - and when it was too late, I didn't tell you either."

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him. "Hey, I know why you did it. I understand."

But it's not enough for you.

"Stop! Please, just stop!" you complain, shaking his hands off of you. Spencer steps back a bit to give you some space.

"What?"

"Stop being nice and understanding! Be mad at me! Yell at me! I lost our baby! I almost kill myself! You should be furious! You should leave me. I don't deserve to be forgiven. Just - just do something! Hate me!"

Your words break Spencer’s heart. How could you think you should be hated? None of this is a reason for him to hate you or blame you. It's the opposite. You need to see it. Spencer takes a step closer to pry your hands, covering your face as you start crying again.

"Do you really want that? To hate you for carrying our child? For having an accident when you were only trying to do the right thing? For trying to protect me from the pain? For holding the weight of grieving alone when it was me who should have been here by your side?"

You know what he’s doing. But you can’t let him. It's not his fault, either.

"You couldn't."

Spencer cups your face so you can look at him.

"And yet, it's unfair you had to bear everything alone. If I have to hate someone, it's me. I wasn't here when you needed me the most! What kind of husband am I, uh?“

You shake your head, grabbing his hands off of your cheeks and resting them on your lap. You don’t want him to take the blame.

“You were locked, Spencer. It was on me.”

“For my own bad decisions. It's unfair. Don’t tell me it is not unfair.”

Spencer’s voice cracks. The feeling of failure creeping inside of him. He couldn't protect you; he couldn't keep you safe.

You can’t form a reply to him. No, when another question is still plaguing your mind. A question with an assumed answer, heavy enough to push you into a spiral that almost ends with you six feet under.

“Is that psycho really having your baby?”

Spencer’s features harden. Emily told him about ‘Cat’s confession.’ For a moment, Spencer almost loses it, thinking about the possibility of it happening. But from what Lindsey admitted once she was in Rossi and Matt's custody, Cat is lying. The father's identity remains unknown, but Garcia is making progress, checking all men who interacted with Cat in the past months.

“She is pregnant. But it's not mine. What she told you, it never happened. Lindsey confirmed it.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “That bitch got me. She planted the seed, and I couldn't help it. What a good FBI agent I am,” you mock, averting your gaze.

One of Spencer’s hands leaves the grip on your lap and flies to your chin to look into your eyes. “Don’t say that. You saw what she wanted you to see, and it's not on you. Everyone could have tripped with that kind of unsettling information. She wants to punish every human being that has crossed her psycho self.”

“You by proxy because of me. I knew that, but I bit the bullet anyway.”

Pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, Spencer shakes his head. “It doesn't matter. What really matters now is it is over.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. Maybe it's over. But how can you continue from here? It's like Spencer can hear your thoughts.

“We’ll figure it out. Now, it can be hard to see it, but I know we can figure it out.”

-----

Spencer doesn't leave your side in all the 36 hours you stay in the hospital. He is with you when the doctor comes to talk to you to explain the next steps in your physical recovery. He is right with you every time the nurses come to check on you. He is also there when Emily comes to see you before you can be discharged.

“How are you feeling?” Emily asks. To say you are thankful for Emily is just a tip of the truth.

“Relieved,” you say, looking at Spencer. “Em, I’m sorry for putting you in all this stress.” It's a meek apology, you think, but it's something. Prentiss huffs.

“You two made me age ten years in five months, you know? But I’m glad to have you both out of the woods.”

“Thank you, Emily. For everything.” This time, it’s Spencer who speaks. He reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. God, it's so good having him here and feeling his touch.

“You are part of my team and, above all, my friends and family. And considering that, I need to talk to you guys about what comes next,” she announces. “I know what you are going to say, but I need you to trust me on this.”

You and Spencer raise an eyebrow but nod and wait for Emily to continue.

“You are going into mandatory leave from this moment. For a month, to begin with. But not only that, you both are instructed to go to therapy sessions.” Emily says, and you both want to protest, but she doesn't let you. “Please, don’t fight me on this. I know you guys, and you need to realize you both went through a lot in the past months. And you can’t do this alone.”

“We have each other,” you say, and Emily nods in agreement.

“And that's wonderful. But I also know you need to fight the guilt you both are feeling right now. For the sake of yourself and your relationship. You need to acknowledge, really acknowledge, none of this is your fault.”

Spencer can’t help but downcast his stare to the floor. You focus on the wall in front of you. Emily directs her gaze to you.

“It's not your fault not having Spencer out sooner. And it's not your fault what happened in the accident. And about what went on with Cat? You are a human being; you have the right to be vulnerable. But you also have to know you are not alone on this.” 

Her words go to Spencer now. “You feel remorseful for doing what you did to help your mom for being away from your wife with all the turmoil happening. I’m sure you felt you needed to do more to protect her. But you must comprehend that there are things out of our control. And you have a new chance to make it right. Guys, you need each other, but you need to reconcile and reconnect to yourself. That's why I’m asking you to do this.”

Leave it to Emily Prentiss to say the right thing at the right moment. You and Spencer understand why she’s doing this. It's very expected, considering everything you both have been through.

You promise Emily that you’ll exactly do what she asked. Once she leaves the room, you will be ready to be discharged. As you start dressing, Spencer is in the nurse’s station, helping to fill the needed papers.

Anderson is waiting outside to drive you both home. You are very grateful, considering neither Spencer nor you have your car there, and your exhaustion is enough to prevent you from getting behind the wheel.

In the car ride, Spencer’s arm doesn't leave the grip around your shoulder, posing loving kisses on the top of your head from time to time. A reminder that he’s here with you and he is not going anywhere now.

But passing the apartment threshold is another hard test for both of you. It’s a place where Spencer hasn’t been in five months. It’s a place where you were two days ago and made a mistake in the heat of your own vulnerability. It’s something hard to come to terms with.

Hand in hand, you walk into the open living room. It's still a mess from the day Emily and Tara found you passed out on the couch. Fortunately, there are no traces of the whiskey bottle or the pills’ container.

Spencer’s eyes rack over the shelves and walls. There were no major changes in them. But then his eyes spot the closed door in the guest room, and his throat tightens. He knows what is in there; you told him at the hospital about how you were preparing the nursery. You pick up how his glance stares at the door.

“I haven't been able to get in there yet without breaking down,” you tell him, and Spencer’s eyes snap at you. The last thing he wants is to expose you to something that might make you upset now.

“We don’t have to.” Spencer is sincere, and you know he is, but you also know what has to be done and that he deserves to know all of it and be part of it. “We can spend the night in another place, I can talk to-” you squeeze his hand and shake your head to stop him talking.

“Spence. No. We need to. I need to.”

Spencer searches for any sign of aversion or doubt, but he finds none. You’re right. It has to be done. Slowly but surely, you both open the door and take a step forward into the room. It’s still decorated with bright walls and furniture all over: shelves, a dresser, a crib, a swing chair. You can feel the lump forming in your throat, as you can feel Spencer’s hand shaking on yours. He’s trying to keep composure for your sake, but it’s proving to be hard. You turn to see him, your own eyes glassed for the tears that push to get out. With a hand on his cheek, he leans on your touch, breathing shakily.

With no words needed, you both hold each other as you cry. It’s the first moment in which you feel you can grieve together. Not only the life that was lost, but also the months being apart, the sorrow for the lies told, the truths untold, and the pain of not having each other.

When the tears subside, you look each other in understanding. It’s going to be hard, but you’ll try harder.

That night, you talk until the sun is almost rising, wrapped in a blanket and the comfort of each other's arms on the couch. You tell him everything, show him the ultrasounds and spill your guts about your encounter with Cat Adams. For his part, Spencer recounts his days locked in Milburn, and the things he did and almost did. You dissect each part of the past months, and you have never been more relieved than you are right now. Spencer can tell, because he feels the same.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asks after you go silent for a moment longer.

“I - I’m just -” You sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. Shifting to look up at Spencer, you tighten the grip on his shirt. “After everything, how will we make this work again?”

“You mean ‘us’?”

“Yeah. Us. Our life. Yours and mine, together and individually. Spencer, we are so broken right now. And what about the guilt? I can’t stop thinking about what Emily told us, and she is right, but I can’t just shake off this feeling.”

“Neither do I,” Spencer admits. “That's why we need to work together on this. I mean, there will be days I’ll be in my lows; others, you’ll be in yours. I guess the difference is in not carrying the weight alone.”

You ponder his words. You know life won’t be the same as you had before. It would be naive to think so. But life is giving you a second chance to make it count. To not take for granted anything. In your husband’s arms, the love of your life, you can only think of how everything could have been worse than it got. It’s not about fool’s comfort, it’s about the acknowledgement of having a future to write—a different one.

“Together,” you add. Spencer nods, caressing your chin. It feels right—like it's supposed to feel when you are safe. 

“I love you,” you whisper, as if it's the most secret confession you have ever made. Spencer’s face lights up, looking at you with adoration.

“And I love you. Always. Past, present and future.”

For you that is enough. Rough patches ahead are for sure, but tonight you’re not alone. Tonight you’ll indulge yourself in the safety of your satellite call.

-----

“This is one’s for the lonely child

Broken-hearted, running wild

This was written for the ones to blame

One who believes they are the cause of chaos in everything

You may find yourself in the dead of night

Lost somewhere out there in the great big beautiful sky

This is so you’ll know the sound

Of someone who loves you

From the ground

Tonight you’re not alone at all

This is me sending out my satellite call.”

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Previous

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Series Taglist: @strawb3heart @lunaryoongie @bwlol7

[piftamere]

sixteen - covering my ears (wc : 972)

she's strolling through the aisles of the convenience store, her head pounding from one drink too many last night. she has pieces to finish for her exhibit in two weeks, pieces she promised herself she’d work on today, but the thought of picking up a brush right now feels impossible. she’s on a mission to find taiyaki to cure her hangover, but she’s walked the store front and back three times and still hasn’t found it. she’s about to give up when she feels a light tap on her shoulder. she jumps, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. she silently curses the gods above before turning around to discover… atsumu's mom.

“hi sweetheart!” mrs. miya greets her, her voice warm but just a tad too loud for yn’s hungover brain to handle. “fancy running into you here!”

she blinks, rubbing the sleep, or lack thereof, out of her eyes to make sure she’s not hallucinating.

“mrs. miya? hi. yeah… small world.”

“small town.” mrs. miya corrects with a smile. “you look tired, dear. late night?

yn hesitates, “something like that. just... overdid it a little.”

“ah, to be young. and recovering with snacks, i see,” mrs. miya teases, eyeing the chips and energy drinks in the girl’s basket.

yn laughs awkwardly, “yeah, it’s a science. how are you?”

“great!” she chirps, but then pauses, it’s clear she’s dying to say something. “listen, i don’t want to overstep but… did you and tsumu have a fight? he’s been really down lately, and he changes the subject whenever i ask about you.”

yn freezes, the guilt suddenly hitting her like a truck. she uncomfortably shifts her weight on her feet, staring at her hands like a kid in trouble. “kinda.”

“i’m sorry to hear it. do you mind me asking what happened?”

yn swallows hard, unsure of what to say. she glances up at her and something about the woman’s reassuring presence cracks her defenses. she doesn’t know why, but she starts talking.

“it’s been a rough few weeks…” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

mrs. miya reaches out and places a soothing hand on yn’s shoulder. “are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?”

a lump forms in yn’s throat. she tries to shake it off but ends up letting out a shaky sigh instead. “i didn’t mean to… hurt him.”

“i‘m sure you didn’t, dear,” she replies, her voice kind as ever, holding back her questions to not sound too nosy. “sometimes life just gets messy, but talking to your mom always has a way of making things better.”

yn hesitates for a moment before the words slip out, “i’m not exactly close with my mother.”

they've never been close, and yet, in moments like these she can't help but want her mother. who she could have been, who she should have been. and it's frustrating because she knows that she shouldn't, that she doesn't have any reasons to want her, to love her, to want her mother to love her, in fact she has every reason not to. she knows that she's doing so much better without her in her life. but when something goes wrong, there's this small, childlike voice in her head that wishes she had a mom. she wishes her brain could accept that she'll never have that. and she feels like she'll be perpetually grieving the loss of her mother, the loss of the relationship with her mother, even though she is still alive.

“oh honey, why’s that?”

she takes a deep breath, her fingers gripping tightly the handle of her basket. her gaze drops to the floor as she feels her eyes sting, tears brimming in the corners. “it’s just- she always made me feel like i wasn’t good enough, no matter how hard i tried.” her voice falters. she leaves out on purpose her mother’s complicated relationship with alcohol, and her tendency for cruelty, not wanting to burden mrs. miya too much.

“family can be complicated,” she continues, gently, so kindly that yn’s not sure she deserves it. “not everyone is meant to be a mother, and not every mother knows how to show love the way their child needs.”

she mumbles, looking down, embarrassed. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all this.”

mrs. miya replies with a warm smile, “because you need someone to tell.”

yn lets out a small laugh, wiping her eyes quickly before anyone else in the store notices. “you’re really nice.”

“i’ve made my share of mistakes, dear. i try to learn from them. and i think you’re doing the best you can.”

“it doesn’t feel like enough.” the words tumble out before she can stop them. she shrugs, trying to mask the ache in her chest. she feels like she keeps messing up, and everyone around her is bound to realize that she’s a burden too heavy to carry for long. they have every right to be pissed at her, and she’s not sure why they keep putting up with her. and atsumu, there’s no way he’d want anything to do with her if he knew the truth. she feels cornered, by her actions, her lies, and the weight of it all is becoming far too much for her.

mrs. miya studies her for a moment before speaking. “sometimes it won’t be, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

yn hesitates, taking in what the woman just told her, but doubt still lingers. “do you think i should talk to him?”

“that’s up to you, dear. but if you think there’s something worth fixing, don’t let fear stop you.”

yn’s shoulders relax a little and she nods, “thank you.”

“anytime. and get some rest, these energy drinks can only do so much.”

yn laughs a little, waving at mrs. miya as she heads off to the next aisle.

fun facts

hinata was the one who suggested staging an intervention

yn's been spending most of her time at her studio painting, at least she's more inspired than ever

she felt awful after seeing atsumu's mom and it brought back the guilt she had been trying to ignore

kiyoko doesn't care about the gc but she's worried that yn won't forgive her for her words

she thinks noya's plan won't work but she's at a loss for what to do

actually, noya is the only one who thinks his plan's gonna work

yachi's already written her apology for when yn finds out and kageyama is planning on buying her drinks to earn her forgiveness

author's note

before this i didn't know what "armchair psychology" was, who knew writing fanfiction would be bettering my english

the written part was supposed to be much shorter but i got too self indulgent oops

next part is going to be eventful eheh and we're getting close to the end👀👀

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen @shesabeeler @meekydeeks @justanotherweeb666 @bxbygurlisa @lvtilzs @fi-chanwrites

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[kikyoupdates]

Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑛𝑑

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

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If someone had asked you a few hours ago how you would be spending your day, you could never have predicted it would be like this.

There's a man in front of you, so incredibly gaunt that you might’ve mistaken him for a skeleton. His cheeks are completely sunken in, practically hollow, and nearly every time he speaks, blood spews out of his mouth. 

This man is the greatest hero in the world, All Might. 

Honestly, you're still struggling to make sense of it. Today has been one big series of misadventures. Starting with Katsuki’s merciless bullying of Izuku at school, then being attacked by some slime villain that attempted to take Izuku’s body hostage, to finally being rescued by All Might—only to discover that there's far more to him than meets the eye.  

Izuku is especially horrified, since he’s idolized All Might for as long as you can remember.  

“But... how?” he gapes. “Are you really All Might? No... it can’t be real. I just don’t understand how this could possibly be true...”  

You can't really believe it either, at least not until All Might lets out a weary sigh and lifts up his shirt, revealing a gruesome wound that has you wondering how he's even still alive right now. Apparently, he got that injury from a villain several years ago, and the aftereffects are so severe that it has permanently weakened him. You're used to seeing the All Might that everyone else knows—that blindingly-bright, impressively muscular man who never stops smiling, no matter what. But the All Might standing in front of you right now couldn't be any more different. He isn't smiling, nor does he give off the impression of someone you can entrust with your life.  

He isn't superhuman. He is flawed and weak, just like the average person.  

“I can’t work as a hero for more than three hours per day,” All Might explains grimly. “That’s my limit. I was trying so hard to get away from you kids... but I guess the secret’s out now. This is my true form. My body just isn’t what it used to be. I’ve kept this hidden from the public, because I can only imagine how frightened people would be if they found out about my current state. No matter what, the Symbol of Peace cannot succumb to the forces of evil.”  

Izuku splutters hopelessly. “But... but... whenever you save people, you’re always smiling and laughing. You always look so sure of yourself, and—”  

“The reason I laugh isn’t because I’m not scared. I do it to distract myself from the constant fear and pressure weighing me down. Pro heroes must always put their lives on the line. It’s an incredibly dangerous job, and I doubt you’d ever find a hero who doesn’t get scared.” All Might pauses, then flashes Izuku a sympathetic look. “Earlier, you asked me if someone who is Quirkless can still become a hero. Knowing what I know about the hero profession, and all the dangers that come with it... I just can’t in good conscience bring myself to tell you that it’s possible.”  

The second All Might utters those words, all the color drains from Izuku’s cheeks. You can see that he’s broken out into a cold sweat, and he's struggling to breathe evenly, veering dangerously close to a state of hyperventilation. 

“I... see,” is all he manages to respond, staring blankly at the ground.  

All Might tries to force a smile, but it isn't very reassuring. “If you care about saving people, you can always go into police work. The police don’t often receive the acknowledgment they deserve, but it is nonetheless an admirable profession. I can’t possibly condemn someone that has a dream. It’s a good thing to push yourself and try to reach your goals. But at the same time... you have to see reality for what it is, kid.”  

Just like that, he leaves, and you can tell that Izuku’s entire world has just shattered.  

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight. “Don’t listen to him,” you try to encourage. “Just because there aren’t any Quirkless heroes yet doesn’t mean there can’t be. It’s okay, Izuku. You can still try. Nothing is set in stone.”  

Under ordinary circumstances, this might've worked. Granted, it isn't as if you can just snap your fingers and make everything okay all of a sudden, but you normally succeed in pacifying Izuku whenever he's going through a particularly rough patch. After hugging him and consoling him for a while, he usually calms down.  

Unfortunately, this situation is far from ordinary, and thus, your attempts fall flat.  

“Thanks, [Name].” Izuku’s eyes are already bloodshot and brimming with tears. He is thanking you, but you aren't even sure what for, considering how utterly broken he looks. “I’ll... be alright. All Might isn’t wrong. I need to see reality for what it is. I’ve been such an idiot, all this time.”  

After staring into his vacant, tear-filled gaze, you feel like crying. But you don't , because that's the last thing Izuku needs right now. What use would you be if he ends up having to console you instead? For his sake, you have to stay positive.  

Or at the very least, look it.  

For a brief moment, you even consider using your Quirk to try and cheer him up. To put him under your control and make his mind dissociate, so that he won't have to feel the full intensity of his emotions right now. But doing that feels wrong, somehow. Especially if you don't have his explicit permission. In this moment, the most you can possibly do is keep on hugging him and make it abundantly clear just how much you believe in him, until he finally believes in himself.  

Still. It just isn't fair. What has Izuku done to deserve any of this? Is it really not enough that people like Katsuki keep tormenting him? Why is he now forced to watch his biggest role model turn his back on him?  

You are only fourteen years old, but you're realizing just how incredibly shitty life can be for some people.  

“I’m okay,” Izuku insists, although his expression is practically blank by now. “I’m really okay, [Name]. You don’t need to worry.”  

You smile weakly. “I know you are. Because you will become a hero. Today’s just been rough. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”  

You refuse to let go of his hand while you walk. Part of you is worried that once you do, you might lose him forever. You fear that he might finally succumb to all the pressure and give up on his dream. Give up on everything.  

As it just so happens, though, life presents you with an opportunity. You hear loud chatter and spot a crowd of people gathered together. It doesn't take long for you to realize that all those people are probably watching heroes go head-to-head with a villain, and so, you pull Izuku in their direction, hoping that it will reignite the flame inside him that is on the verge of being snuffed.  

“Look, Izuku,” you beam. “I wonder who’s fighting today? Let’s watch the heroes kick some villain butt!”  

He's dragging his feet and looks visibly unenthusiastic, but old habits are hard to quit. Even as dejected as he is right now, he still can't stop himself from following you. It makes you hopeful that despite everything All Might said to him, he's still determined to do what he always dreamed of. 

It was your intention to lift his spirits, but in the process of pulling him along, you end up doing the exact opposite.  

There he is again—the slime villain that attacked the two of you earlier. But it just doesn't make any sense. You know for a fact that All Might captured him. Does that mean that he must have escaped at some point?  

“It’s my fault,” Izuku gasps, hurrying to clamp his palms over his mouth. “Oh god,” he breathes shakily, voice muffled. “All Might must have dropped him or something! If only I hadn’t been so selfish and just stayed out of his business!”  

You don't know what to say. Of course, you don't believe Izuku is to blame, but you are too petrified to say a damn word.  

Because the slime villain’s latest victim isn't just anyone—it's someone you know very, very well. 

Katsuki!  

He's struggling with all his might, desperately fighting to stay conscious and resist succumbing to the villain. Katsuki is strong. He has always been strong. Even so, that doesn't make him indestructible. And right now, as he struggles  to get enough air to even breathe, you can tell that he's terrified beyond words.  

You want to help. You really, really do, but your previous experience with the slime villain already proved that you're helpless to do a damn thing.  

More than anything, you're afraid of what might happen to you if you even try.  

Izuku, however, is different. Which is why, while you stand there, frozen stiff from fear, Izuku has already started running.  

You cry out to him, try to tell him that it's too dangerous, but he isn't listening. Despite being Quirkless, you know that Izuku is already more of a hero than most people could ever hope to be. That's why he doesn't hesitate for a moment to try and save someone, even when all the odds are stacked against him.

His bravery and selfless nature are what manage to finally spur you onwards, but when you try to run after him, one of the heroes on site pulls you back. 

“Don’t!” he insists. “What that kid just did was incredibly reckless! You’re not going anywhere! You could get seriously hurt!”  

The hero holds you in place, and you thrash and try to break free, even though you aren't a match for his strength. All the while, Izuku is doing everything he can possibly think of to try and free Katsuki from the slime villain. He throws his backpack at him, frantically pulls and claws at the slime to try and give Katsuki enough room to breathe—just anything.  

He must be scared. So scared that he probably can't even think straight, but even so, he doesn't give up.  

As a result, he manages to move the heart of a man who was convinced he’d already reached his limit for the day.  

All Might appears out of nowhere, back in the broad, muscular state you're used to seeing him in. Blood is spewing out of his mouth, so you can tell that he's pushing himself beyond measure, but that's because he and Izuku are one and the same. When faced with someone who is in dire need of help, they both have a tendency to act first, and think later.  

With All Might on the scene, the slime villain doesn't last much longer. You look on with tears in your eyes, shoulders sagging from relief when Izuku and Katsuki are finally both rescued. The villain’s amorphous body has splattered all over the place from the pressure of All Might’s punch, and it's safe to say that he’s been immobilized for good.  

It's over. This hellish day has finally come to an end.  

“Oh, Izuku,” you whimper, rushing straight over and wrapping him in a hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! I was so scared of what might happen to you...”  

He chuckles weakly, blushing while he leans into your touch. “I-I’m okay. I know what I did was reckless, but... seeing Kacchan like that, I couldn’t possibly ignore him. His eyes looked they were pleading for help.”  

“No, you did the right thing,” you insist. “You bought Katsuki enough time for All Might to act. You might’ve even been the one that inspired him to do so. I wish I could’ve run to help right away, like you did... but I was too scared. I’ve clearly still got a long way to go.”  

“That’s giving me too much credit. I really couldn’t accomplish anything on my own...”  

You expect that Izuku will be praised for his bravery, but instead, he is met with nothing but reprimands from some of the other heroes who reacted to the crisis. They berate him for charging headfirst into danger, without any concern for his own well-being. You try to point out that if not for Izuku, Katsuki might have already been done in by the time All Might showed up, but they aren't having it.  

On the other hand, from what you can tell, Katsuki is being showered with praise. His explosion Quirk is incredibly powerful, and that, paired with his resilience and tough nature, has clearly made a strong impression on the pros. They're all amazed that he held out for so long against the slime villain, when most people would hardly have lasted a few minutes.  

Katsuki is amazing, no doubt about it, but there's no mistaking how afraid he looked back there. No matter how headstrong and fearless he tries to act, at heart, he's still only a fourteen-year-old boy. 

For that reason, you figure that what he needs most of all right now is not to be praised incessantly, but for someone to show him some genuine concern.  

You hug Izuku one last time, stand up, then begin walking in Katsuki’s direction. 

Unfortunately, you don't make it very far.  

“Stay back,” Katsuki grits out, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. “I know what’s going on in that stupid head of yours. I can tell based on that goddamn pitying expression you have. Stay back before I get really fucking mad.”  

You want to show him that you care. Even if he is horrible to Izuku at times, especially earlier today, he's still your long-time friend. You doubt you'll ever lose the soft spot you have for him. Is it really too much to ask that he lets his guard down and accepts your consideration, for crying out loud?  

“Katsuki—”  

“No,” he spits. “Shut the fuck and march back to shitty Deku’s side. He’s the one you’re so obssesed with anyways.”  

You shamefully look down at your feet. It seems like it's pointless to even try. No matter what you do , no matter what Izuku does, Katsuki keeps interpreting it as an insult. Izuku just tried to save his life, and yet Katsuki is still glaring at him as though he’s somehow been wronged.  

None of it makes any sense, and it hurts  to feel like things will never go back to the way they used to be.  

Heeding Katsuki’s words, you trudge back over to Izuku. It's time to leave. It's been a long, incredibly tiring day, for you too, but Izuku especially. He needs to get some rest and put all of this behind him. 

Right before you leave the scene, Katsuki makes sure to glare viciously in your direction one last time.  

“I never asked you to help me, piece of trash Deku,” he grits out. “I didn’t need your help. Got it? In fact, I saved myself. You didn’t do a goddamn thing! So, don’t expect me to owe you or some shit. You seriously piss me the hell off. Stay out of my life from now on and mind your fucking business.”  

Neither you nor Izuku say anything in response. A rational-minded person would have said ‘thanks’, or even, ‘I really appreciated what you tried to do.’ But Katsuki is just too stuck in his ways. He's determined to always make things out to be negative. He refuses to ever acknowledge that even he needs help sometimes.  

Katsuki’s lack of gratitude just makes Izuku’s sacrifice that much more noble, because you know for a fact he didn't expect anything in return.  

“You really are amazing, Izuku.” You smile gently, reaching down to grab his hand again. “I mean, the fact that you tried to save Katsuki without even thinking twice about it, even after he hurt you earlier today and said all those horrible things. That’s exactly why I know you’ll become a hero. Most people wouldn’t have been able to save someone who’d bullied them for so many years.”  

Izuku stares down at your hand and admires the way your fingers are interlocked with his. Unless you're imagining it, he looks like he's feeling a bit better now. At the very least, his expression isn't hollow and lifeless anymore. Perhaps he's just relieved that Katsuki is safe, or maybe he feels a small sense of pride over his heroic feat earlier. You have no way of knowing for sure.  

The two of you walk in silence, and neither of you seems willing to let go of the other’s hand. Izuku still can't forget All Might’s words from earlier, and even though he tried to help his former friend, he knows that still isn't enough for him to become a hero. He realizes now that without a Quirk, it's nothing but a baseless dream.  

Still, he's comforted by the fact that you think he's amazing. Maybe he can strive to become a police officer, like All Might suggested. He can still save people that way, and as long as you are by his side, then... 

Perhaps that alone is enough.  

Of course, you are none the wiser as to what thoughts are going through Izuku’s head. You don't know just how much he's fixating on you and placing you on a pedestal, unintentionally relying on you as his sole source of motivation and happiness. It's never a good thing for any one person to depend wholly on another, and if not for All Might’s sudden appearance, Izuku might have fallen further into his obsessive thoughts.  

“All Might?!” Izuku cries out. “But... what are you doing here? I could’ve sworn you were surrounded by reporters back there...”  

“I gave them the slip,” All Might chuckles. “I’m still the Number One hero, you know. More importantly, I had some things I wanted to say. Or rather, some corrections regarding what I said earlier.”  

You cock a brow, and Izuku can't help but do the same. Well, he’s come all this way for a reason, so you suppose you have no choice but to hear him out. You just hope he won't say more depressing stuff that would completely crush Izuku’s soul.  

However, much to your surprise, All Might doubles back and basically retracts his previous words. He admits to being inspired by Izuku’s courage and willingness to help save his friend, despite being Quirkless. Unlike before, All Might has nothing but praise for him. He apologizes for having dismissed him so quickly and recognizes that Quirk or not, Izuku has the heart of a hero.  

“You can become a hero.”  

They're the same words you've repeated to Izuku for the past ten years, but hearing them from a hero like All Might is understandably more impactful. Izuku is so moved that he can't help but crumple to his knees, and even though he was already crying, this time, they are happy tears.

You wrap your arms around him. Overwhelmed by emotion, it doesn't take long for you to start crying too.

You would be lying if you said you expected to hear from him again today. After all, you didn't exactly leave things off on a good note. But you are a forgiving person by nature, and again, you can't find it in you to completely resent Katsuki, even after all the scummy things he’s already done.

Perhaps you shouldn’t keep giving him more chances, but you do it anyways.

It's very much like him not explain anything and stick to his stubbornness. Honestly, though, in light of recent news, you're in a really good mood. You thought for sure that today would suck all the way until the end, but it had actually been rather incredible. 

All Might has chosen Izuku as his successor, and he is going to pass his Quirk onto him.  

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you heard him utter those words. You thought he was making things up just to screw with the both of you. But no, apparently All Might’s Quirk—One for All—is the type of Quirk that can be passed down from one person to the next. Izuku is going to have to train his butt off to get stronger, but if he succeeds, then he'll have a Quirk waiting for him. 

He isn't going to be Quirkless anymore, and the thought makes you so happy that you can hardly stop grinning.  

“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Katsuki snaps. He's obviously peeved by how chipper you are, but unfortunately, you can't tell him why. All Might has sworn both you and Izuku to secrecy. One for All is purely confidential, and you aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even your own parents.  

Still, you physically can't wipe your smile off your face. Things are finally looking up for Izuku, and it's impossible to contain your excitement.  

“I watched a funny show earlier,” you brush off. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Anyways, what’s up? Why’d you call me out here?”  

For some reason, Katsuki glances away, unwilling to look you in the eye.  

“Deku didn’t save me,” he finally mutters. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.”  

“Huh? Are you still on about that?”  

You blink repeatedly. He really is ridiculous. When is he going to realize that he's way too fixated on Izuku? It isn't healthy. Izuku is perfectly content to just do his own thing and be nice to everyone. Katsuki's the one who keeps going out of his way to harass him for no reason. Back when he was younger, he always used to say that Izuku was obsessed with him, but it's so clearly the other way around.  

Still, you're in a really good mood right now, and you refuse to let Katsuki put a damper on it.  

“Okay, Katsuki.” You nod patiently and smile. “Izuku didn’t save you, it’s true. All Might was the one who saved you. Izuku was worried about you, because you know that’s just how he is. He worries about everyone. But I know he isn’t the one who defeated the slime villain or anything, so can we please just put this past us?”  

Katsuki clenches his fists. “And I’m saying that he had no reason to worry about me, because I was just fucking fine! All he ever does is look down on me. It’s like he thinks I’m this weak-ass bitch, and he’s so much better than I am.”  

“No,” you frown. “Like I said, he worries about everyone, not just you. You’re not the exception, Katsuki. Some people tend to worry more than others. That’s just the kind of person he is. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean people can’t worry about you. I don’t get why you think it’s such a bad thing. It shows that they care. It means that they value you. It doesn’t mean they think you’re below them.”  

“I don’t need anyone to worry about me—least of all a Quirkless weakling like him,” he spits.  

You really don't know what else to say. You're always running in circles with this guy. He's just too tied up in his flawed way of thinking. He believes that any sort of concern directed his way is automatically some form of mockery. You wish you could help him think more clearly, but you just don't know how. 

“I care about you, Katsuki. I care about you, and that means I worry too. Even though I know you’re so much stronger than I am. Don’t you see that it’s not about being strong or weak? I care about you because you’re important to me. It’s just that simple.”  

For just a moment, Katsuki’s eyes widen, and he looks like he's finally starting to understand.  

He raises your hopes, only to immediately dash them. 

“I’m important to you,” he swallows. He's thankful for the dark of night, otherwise you would’ve noticed that he's blushing right now. “You mean that, right?”  

“Of course I do,” you nod. “I’ve known you for so long. You’re still my friend.”  

Katsuki just stares at you, and there's something weirdly ominous about the way he does it, without so much as blinking once.  

“If I’m so important to you, then tell Deku you never want to see him again.”  

“What?”  

You can't help the gasp that leaves your lips. Seriously, what in the world is he on about now? There's no way you're ever going to do something like that. He's acting crazy.  

“You know that’s never going to happen,” you grimace. “Just stop it, Katsuki. If that’s your idea of a joke, it really isn’t funny.”  

Katsuki’s eyes are completely wide. “Who said I was joking? You’re the one who started running your mouth about how important I am to you and all that shit. So, I’m calling your bluff. If I was actually important to you, then you would cut that shitty nerd out of your life, because you know just how much he gets under my skin. Unless you’re saying he’s more important to you than I am.”  

Before you can even muster up a response, Katsuki has already stepped closer to you. He grabs you by the hand, except unlike whenever you hold Izuku’s hand, this sensation is far from pleasant. Actually, it even borders on painful, because of how hard he keeps squeezing your fingers.  

It hurts, and quite frankly, he's freaking you out.  

“There’s no way you think that fucking loser is better than me... right?” Katsuki insists. He refuses to let go of your hand, despite the fact that you keep trying to shake him off. Everything about him right now, from the tone of his voice to that unsettling look in his eyes, just reeks of desperation. He only ever seems to get this desperate whenever Izuku is involved.  

That's what you believe, however, the reality is slightly different. 

You and Izuku together—that is what makes Katsuki’s blood boil like no other.  

“Katsuki, I don’t think either of you is better or worse,” you try to explain. By now, you’ve given up on trying to push him away or make him let go of your hand. You just hope that you can get him to calm down. “Please, can you just stop this? I really want all three of us to be friends again. I hate how things turned out.”  

Perhaps one day, in the distant future, the situation would improve. But if you asked Katsuki right now, he would rather die than ever make amends with that shitty freckled nerd. He hates Izuku with every fiber of his being, and not only because he's Quirkless.  

Because he's stolen you from him.  

“You don’t give a fuck about me,” Katsuki chuckles dryly. “I doubt you ever did. Deku was the one you always made googly eyes at. Stop pretending like you want anything to do with me. That kind of fake shit makes me sick to my goddamn stomach.”

You try to protest, but he's already walking away. He steps inside his house and slams the door shut, not even bothering to glance back in your direction.  

Katsuki is gone, and you are left outside in the cold, completely alone. You raise your head and look up at the sky. It's so endlessly vast and dark. Not a single star is in sight. You know that they're out there, somewhere, hidden behind a black veil, but since you can't actually see them, it does little to comfort you.  

Whatever happiness you felt earlier was clearly destined to be short-lived. The day has ended on an awful note after all.

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