#the way she said she felt like vomiting every time he touched her I FEEL SO BAD BUT YESSSS SAY THAT TO HIS FACE DESTROY HIS EGO

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit [Part 2] - A Mouthwashing AU

Chapter 2 baby!!! It's a bit of a calm before the storm type of deal. And a little bit more character interaction, for better or worse.

Check it out on Ao3 right here! And drop a comment while you're there!

Content Warning: Depictions of physical abuse.

Curly didn’t see the others much these days.  Not that he saw Swansea or Daisuke very much, even before the mysterious meeting with Anya.

But now, not even she came to see him much.  Just to redress his bandages, give him an IV for food, and keep him as clean as could be helped in such situations.  But she didn’t speak to him.  Or really look at him anymore.

Maybe she finally figured out how to hate him.  Curly figured it was only a matter of time.  Five months of taking care of someone that could be blamed for all current problems had to have taken its toll on her.  He didn’t blame her in the slightest.

She watched him through the night, just to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.  She extended as much care as she needed to.

It’s exactly what Curly deserved.

He had no right to miss their one sided conversations.  Or her reading out loud to him some cheesy fantasy novel, or the employee handbook.  He didn’t need any of it, didn’t deserve any of it.  So it’s only right, he supposed, that she’d decide that as well.

But the other’s absence meant that it was just Curly and Jimmy in the Med Bay these days.

And Curly hasn’t had a moment’s peace yet.

Jimmy liked to stare at him.  Maybe gawk is the better descriptor.  He seemed to take some amusement or satisfaction looking at Curly’s state.

Curly had done his best not to dignify it with eye contact.  But it was hard when you felt the burning emptiness locked onto you.

He touched a lot.  No matter how many times Curly made noises to indicate it hurt, or how he moved his weak limbs, he was touched.  He was moved and turned and rotated, as if Jimmy was trying to take in every detail.  He opened and closed his mouth, sometimes hard enough to make his teeth rattle against each other.  He forcefully turned his head to make him look at random things.  He picked at bandages, staring as his ruined skin tugged on them.

I hope this hurts.

Sometimes he would just choke him.  If Curly ever made it out of this, he would remember the look on Jimmy’s face forever.  There wasn’t any light in his eyes.  Not even anger or disgust.  Just emptiness as he squeezed and pushed hard onto Curly’s neck.  Sometimes he’d rummage through a drawer and see how far he could push a tongue depressor down Curly’s throat.

Jimmy didn’t talk much during these visits.  Only when he gave him his pills did he really talk.  But dear god did Curly wish he didn’t.

“I know the way you thought of me” he started.  “I was your charity case, right?  Saving me from my struggle of a life?  Yeah, I see that, Curly.  I suppose you think I should thank you?”

Jimmy stared intensely at the pill between his fingers.

“Who should be thanking who now?  Not like you can do anything without my help anymore.  It’s you’re fault we’re in this mess.  I think you should act a bit more grateful.”

The pilot leaned in close, close enough Curly could smell his breath.

“Say thank you.”

Curly did move.  Didn’t open his mouth.  Just kept his eye locked on Jimmy’s.

“I said to say thank you.  Say thank you and I give you your pill.”

Jimmy’s hands were rough.  They always had calluses, he’d worked a number of odd jobs back on Earth, labored the softness of his skin away.  And Curly could feel all those years of struggle as his former friend started to squeeze his cheeks tightly, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“I’m busting my ass around this ship because of you.  The least you could do is be thankful for it.”

Curly’s world goes topside as Jimmy shook his head back and forth.  Black spots filled his vision, and he could hear the blood rushing in his head and ear.  And the grip just kept getting tighter.

“Say it.”

Curly forced his throat to make sounds.  Some kind of approximation of “Thank you.”  Anything to get Jimmy to leave faster.

“There.  Wasn’t so hard to just show a little appreciation, right Captain?”

Curly had learned to mostly escape his own body when Jimmy shoved his fingers down his throat.  That’s been a skill he’s gotten really good at.  He could carry his mind away, to other places and times, far far away from the Tulpar.

But he could never escape for very long.  Jimmy patted his cheek like he was a misbehaving child finally deciding to cooperate.

“You know.  If we had the supplies and Swansea could let go of a bottle of mouthwash for long enough, I bet we could put together a little button wall for you.  You know, like those videos of the talking dogs Daisuke was showing you?  Then you can tell us when you need your pills instead of making those fucking noises all the time.  Look at me.  Still fixing things.”

Jimmy laughed.  Curly didn’t.

He had hoped that would be the end of it.  But he was hardly so lucky these days.

“Stop staring at me.”

Curly flicked his gaze up at the ceiling, his eye tracing the patterns of the seams in the ceiling.  He could still see Jimmy, out in his peripheral.  Staring at him.

“Why’d you have to give Swansea the ax, hm?  Old bastard won’t hand it over.  Kept saying how you entrusted him with it.  Even before the crash.”

Curly wasn’t sure where he was going with this.  What was he meant to do?  Answer?  He’s not even sure why.

But there was something in Jimmy’s expression that makes him glad he did.

“...This really was all your fault, huh?  If you had just… Well, we wouldn’t be here.  And now look at you.  You’re too useless to be angry at.  Managed to dodge any responsibility and get to lay here.  You don’t have to do anything.  Must be paradise, right?”

And then Curly was alone again.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just trying to breathe and let the pill’s effects take hold.  He didn’t even like how the pills felt.  He felt clouded.  Muffled.  Not even in a way that could let him relax or distract him from the pain.  It’s just now he can’t do anything to express that discomfort.  He can’t even make “those fucking noises” when they take effect.

Best he could hope for is them making him too tired to do anything else but sleep.

He didn’t know if Anya knows that.  Does she think they’re helping?  Does she know that Pony Express paid for the cheapest possible painkillers and called it a day?

He didn’t know which answer would be worse.

“...Captain?”

Curly jumped a little.  Couldn’t be…

Daisuke seemed lost.  He always looked a little lost, but this time he really looked out of place.  He’d been to the Med Bay a few times, as far as Curly remembers.  A few bumps and bruises that Anya had to clear, especially after the foam wall mishap.

“Uh, hi Captain.  It’s been a while.”

Curly made a soft noise as Daisuke inched into the room a bit further.  He turned his head, unable to look at the intern.

The kid shouldn’t be here.

Take Responsibility

It was Curly’s fault this kid was here.  He remembered the memo from Pony Express, that they assigned an intern to the voyage.  He remembered getting frustrated, but letting it go and informing Swansea he’d be training a new crew mate.  He remembered how excited Daisuke was when he boarded the ship, immediately tripping over the last step before the captain could warn him about it.

Curly thought bitterly about Pony Express.  Why bother hiring an intern if they knew they were going under?

God, what are his parents thinking right now?  Did they know?  Did anyone on Earth know they’re stuck out here?  When would they figure it out?  Long after they’re all mummified in this metal tomb, that’s for certain.  If they even get that far.

“Are you feeling any better?”  Daisuke sat on the chair right next to his bed, where Anya usually sat.  He turned his head to look at the kid.  “Right… Dumb question, sorry.”

He pulled something out of his pocket.  Oh… His game system… Swansea had complained when he first saw it, called it a waste of batteries.  And maybe it was.  But Curly let him keep it anyway.  What harm could two missing batteries cause, after all?

Curly remembered Daisuke showing him the game he was playing, months ago.  Some platformer, a difficult one, one Daisuke himself said he was kinda bad at.  Yet he kept playing.  Curly couldn’t recall a time he’s seen the intern not smiling while playing.

Unconsciously, Curly makes a noise, a motion towards Daisuke, who had begun playing.

“Oh!  You wanna see?”

Curly hesitated for a second before nodding.

“Awesome.  So, I’m on this level with a bunch of explosive mushrooms, the explosions are huge and hard to dodge.  Never made it past this level.”

Curly watched the gameplay, the tiny character trying to dodge and weave between fungal bombs.

He felt himself move before he consciously realized he was doing it.  But he found himself now on his side, watching the game.  It was the most movement Curly’s had in days, at least movement that he initiated.

“Swansea’s not interested, Anya’s busy, and Jimmy… well, nobody seems to really have time for anything other than stress right now.  A-And I don’t blame them, this situation sucks.  Maybe we’ll get famous for it later, but right now… Things are pretty dicey, Captain.  I know I should probably be doing something more useful right now but… I don’t know.  I just don’t want to make things worse.”

Daisuke looked at Curly, a little surprised to see the captain’s change in position.

“Oh, woah.  Anya said you haven’t moved in ages.  Heh, glad my game’s so interesting, Captain.  Makes me play better, I bet.  Be my good luck charm?”

Curly didn’t make a noise, just a shallow little nod.  If he could smile, he would.  It was the first in a long time that the captain felt he was being treated like a human.

Not that you deserve it.

“Anya and Swansea have been acting weird lately.  They have little meetings in Utility.  I don’t think they know I’ve noticed.  I thought Swansea said Utility was walled up with foam.  Guess he cleared it out.”

Daisuke made a little triumphant noise as he defeats what Curly believes to be a miniboss.

“They don’t talk about you anymore.  I tried to ask Anya if you were doing any better and she just kinda looked away.  I thought you had died or something. Swansea just told me to not worry about it.  Maybe that’s why I wandered over here.”

Curly made a wounded noise at that.  He figured he was probably a lost cause anyway, but… Well it didn’t make hearing it hurt any less.

“Jimmy’s been weird too.  Or, I guess he’s always been a bit weird.  But now he’s acting really weird.  He keeps telling me that Swansea’s up to something, but… I dunno.”

Daisuke shook his head, his expression turning a little embarrassed.  “Sorry Cap.  Didn’t mean to talk your ear off like that.  Or, uh, wait… Nevermind.  I can go if you, uh, want.”

Curly groaned.  He couldn’t grab, couldn’t reach out very far without the bandages tugging on his back and arms painfully, but he tried his best.

“Oh.  Cool.  I guess I’ll keep playing here then.  It’s quiet here.”

The two stayed like that for a long while, with the only noise being the little sound effects and music coming from Daisuke’s game.  Even the fluorescent buzzing and crackling of the window screen seemed quieter than before.

“I get why Anya sleeps here instead of the Lounge.  Gotta be nice to get away from Swansea’s snoring, right?”

Curly chuffed a weak laugh, surprising even himself.

He wished he could tell Daisuke stories.  He had wanted to ever since the intern first introduced himself after take off.  Wanted to let him know they’ve all been in his position.  And that he’d find his place soon, just like they all did.  But Curly was always too busy or distracted.

Take responsibility

It all seemed so pointless now.  What place was Daisuke meant to find if he lost his job before he even finished his first trip?

“Hey Captain…?”

Curly snapped out of his thoughts, turning to look more directly at Daisuke.

“When we get back, you’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

Curly was confused at that.  Keep in touch?  It’s a miracle every second he’s still breathing, how is he meant to last long enough until they get to a proper hospital?

But then he saw the look in Daisuke’s eyes.  He was always such a happy kid.  Smiling even when Anya lost her mind at his luck in dice games.  Laughing even as Swansea scolded him for doing something foolish.  Joking even in the face of what’s certain death to everyone else.

But… Well, Daisuke probably knows that too.  He knows the chances of them ever seeing Earth again are slim enough to cut air.  He knows as much as everyone else.

Do you see the dead pixel?

Curly nodded, making his best effort at a positive noise.

“Awesome.  I gotta tell Mom and Dad what a cool boss you are.”

Take responsibility

The door slid open, breaking whatever spell was cast over the Med Bay.  The buzzing and crackling filled Curly’s head again, the pill’s effects finally enveloping his head.  He spotted Anya, who looked a little startled.  Both at Daisuke’s presence and Curly’s new position.

“Daisuke.  Did you need anything?  Another new bruise?”

“No Ms Volkov.  Just chatting with the Captain.”

Anya looked between Curly and Daisuke.  Curly had the impression like she was inspecting him.  Whether it was like an insect or like a wound, he couldn’t tell.  He wordlessly rolled back over onto his back.

“...Swansea was looking for you.  You might want to meet him in the lounge before he blows a gasket.”

“Yes ma’am” the intern said with a silly little salute.  He turned to look at Curly one more time.  “I’ll talk to you later, Captain.  You’re my new good luck charm with my games.”

And with that, it was just him and Anya once again.

The two stared at each other for the longest time.  Curly hoped that maybe she would finally speak to him again.  His selfish heart still ached for her company.

I hope this hurts.

“...Goodnight Captain.”

And Curly was alone again.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is the epilogue of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series.

Word Count: 12.2K

Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Vomiting, Dark/Depressing thoughts, Heartbreak, FLUFF, FLUFF, and oh did I mention FLUFF, Sexual innuendo, Self-deprecating thoughts, Drinking, Cursing, Some references to past trauma, References to past sex,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Song lyrics are bold, italics, and are in red. The lyrics come from "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," by Russ Colombo (can be found at the link). This is the song I based the series on and it really is wonderful to listen to.

A/N: Well guys, we made it. Just remember that this isn't goodbye, it's I'll see you in a little while.

Five Months Later…

"Is it time to go yet?" Ben murmurs into your ear, his breath rustling against the hair he tucked carefully behind it moments ago, his hand pressing into the small of your back.

The sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and small chatter ebb and flow over the crowded art gallery, the white walls a subtle backdrop to the colorfully dressed people, waiters, and the canvases that hang on the walls.

Women in elegant dresses stand at different sized paintings while men dressed in casual suits and ties stand beside them in stoic contemplation, their eyes following the gentle brushstrokes that cover the canvases hanging in succession against the bland backdrop.

Waiters dressed in simple suits with silver trays of food and pastries weave through the crowded room, offering treats to whomever they stop by, while a bartender sits at a large wooden bar designed to fit into the venue serving drinks to patrons and pouring multicolored liquids into glasses.

It had been five months since Ben came back, five months since you said goodbye to Homelander, and five of the happiest months of your life.

The first month following Ben's return, you had taken him to the house in Maine, figured that you both could use a vacation and spent your days sunning on the beach together and curled up in bed making up for the time that you lost when Ben was gone. You weren't complaining, not when every day you felt the same way as when you'd woken up the day after your birthday, not when each time Ben kissed you felt like the first time, and not when every time he touched you it felt like you were filled with sunlight. You felt warmer, lighter, happier, and being with him was even more wonderful than you remember.

Every day was fused with wonder and expectation and every night Ben made you feel more loved than you ever had. You were so blissfully happy that you had forgotten the past and were excited for what the future would hold for the two of you.

Lou, Rosemary, and Ryan had come after a few weeks to spend time with Ben and you at the house. Lou was ecstatic that Ben was staying in your lives and spent every moment with him on the beach having him help her make sandcastles and look for shells and shiny rocks that were rubbed smooth by the waves.

Rosemary was still icy towards Ben, but you knew that she was starting to get used to him being around. All you hoped was that one day she would warm up to him, but it was a little less awkward between the two of them. She was at least calling him by his name and she could stand to be in the same room as him. When Ben read the paper in the mornings at the breakfast table off of the large kitchen at the house, Rosemary drank her coffee quietly and read through a paperback, you painted in your watercolor pad absentmindedly, and Lou tried her best to copy you all the while making small talk with Ryan who sat beside her.

Ryan was living in the spare room in Rosemary's apartment and despite being corrected, Lou referred to Ryan as her older brother every chance she got, something that always made Ryan brush bright red. At first Rosemary and you had been wary about bringing in a blossoming teenager in to her home, not to mention a blossoming teenager that had the ability to level a small building if he wanted to, but Ryan seemed to like living there and he didn't cause any unnecessary trouble. Butcher came by every week to take Ryan out of the apartment to give Rosemary a break and Ryan was always happy to go with him.

That was something you weren't sure about. Yes, you liked that Butcher had such a big influence in Ryan's life, but you didn't like how often he came by. You weren't sure you trusted him with what he knew about Lou's powers that only seemed to grow by the day since their development. Every time Lou watched something with a supe in it she started exhibiting a new ability, but she seemed to be able to turn them on and off at will.

Which was good. She also seemed to understand the idea that it wasn't good to show them in public. There were a few slip ups, for example when Ben and you took Lou for ice cream one day. she got so excited when she received the cone that she started levitating a few inches off the ground and another time she threw a temper tantrum at the grocery store and stomped her foot so aggressively against the ground that the entire building shook.

The looks she got when she did both of those things were the same looks you got when Lou called Ben and you "grandpa" and "grandma" in public.

But she was doing better and with Rosemary's ability to touch Lou and get the power Lou was exhibiting, Rosemary had been able to show Lou how to control some of the abilities better than others.

Ryan also helped. He was old enough to babysit Lou when there was no one else, comforting because now that Lou had powers you didn’t trust anyone else to be around her and didn't trust that Vought had forgotten. Ryan was just starting school, a school just a few blocks from Rosemary’s apartment where he could feel like a real kid, and was already struggling through math. When he asked Ben for help Ben had replied that Ryan didn’t need it and the only thing Ryan should focus on was sports.

Ben was no longer allowed to offer Ryan education advice and Butcher and you both tried your best to help Ryan with math instead. You’d also told Ryan not to listen to someone who got kicked out of every boarding school he ever went to, which only made Ben smack you on the ass and say "it takes one to know one" while Rosemary mimed vomiting in the kitchen.

You had asked Rosemary if she wanted to get a new apartment, big enough for everyone so you could be around 24/7 to help her, but she’d complained and said that she was too old to be living with her parents.

She was right, but you still tried your best to be around to give her a break whenever she needed one.

Of course it wasn’t all good in those five months.

Rosemary quit her job at the hospital after everything happened with Homelander and didn’t tell you that she’d gotten a new one working with Butcher on his team. When you’d confronted her about it she’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal, but to you it was. You had spent the past 40 years of Rosemary’s life keeping all the supe shit separate, but now she was diving in head first. You’d had a fight, a bad one, one of the worst the two of you had ever had and you’d spent three days in bed crying to Ben who held you tight and didn’t let you go. When Rosemary had finally showed up three days later, her own eyes red and rimmed with dark circles beneath you knew she was just as upset as you were. And then she told you why she did it.

It wasn’t because of Butcher, it was because of Homelander.

Rosemary was guilty, frustrated with herself because she had been unable to keep Lou safe from him. Rosemary said that she felt like she had been hiding her entire life, turning her back on a piece of herself, and that she needed to do this. She felt like a failure, worthless, and that she needed to embrace who she really was. So you tried to be supportive all the while contemplating if you should follow her on missions to make sure that she was okay.

But that seemed a little obsessive so you held yourself back.

It was going well and honestly, Rosemary seemed happy. Not to mention Butcher liked having her around for medical assistance if there was a problem in the field.

Ben was working for Butcher too, something else you also didn't agree with, but at least now you didn't have to worry about Rosemary as much. You knew that Ben wouldn't let anything happen to her, but you also didn't love that you now had both of them to worry about. Sometimes you thought about working for Butcher too, but after everything that happened with Homelander, Stan, Noir, and your old team, you were happy to immerse yourself in your art again, to dive in to your creativity and let it wash away any of your worries and pain that rose in the aftermath of the everything that had happened five months ago.

You'd told Ben that he didn't have to work, told him that the both of you had more than enough money for a few centuries, but for Ben it was bigger than that. He wanted to work, thought that it was his job to provide for the both of you, his job to take care of you, and you didn’t want to argue with him about that. It was difficult to say no to him, not when he was just as happy as you were, and not when he was giving you everything you said you wanted all those years ago the night you saved Noir. He had given you a home, someone who loves you, and someone to come home to and it was more wonderful than you could have ever imagined. He gave you everything he promised and more.

Sometimes when you were together, he'd get a look on his face like he had no idea how it happened, and you weren't too sure either, but you were so happy that you didn't care. The things you'd daydreamed about all those years ago, of Ben and you living together and being in love dulled in comparison to the real thing. You'd never seen Ben smile as much as you had in the past five months, never seen him so full of life and happiness in all the years you'd known him, and you wanted him to be that way every day for the rest of his life.

And you had never been as inspired to paint as you were now, hence the art show Ben and you were currently attending.

Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan were taking it easy for the evening and you didn’t blame them. Rosemary had just come back from an overnight trip with Butcher's team from somewhere in the South and stated she needed to relax. You’d graciously offered to take Ryan and Lou with you, but she’d waved you off. Said that it was alright and that Ben and you should enjoy yourselves.

You think that working together also helped Ben and Rosemary get more comfortable interacting, but there was still some tension that you hoped would fade in the coming years. It was better than it had been. You were also worried about them working with Butcher's team because of what you'd done to them at Vought, but so far there didn't seem to be a problem. In fact, Rosemary and Annie were becoming friends, which made you happy because Rosemary had friends, but none who she could be one hundred percent honest with about who you were and the powers she had. With Annie, Rosemary didn't have to pretend.

Grace Mallory called every week to check in and keep you updated on Homelander's progress. He was still the same as he had been five months ago, but she was getting a new doctor to come take a look at him, someone who was well versed in memory loss and you hoped he was able to figure it out. Not that you really wanted old Homelander to come back, but because you didn't know where to go from here. You knew that if Homelander ever got out, the first thing he would do was find Compound V, and then come after your family.  But it still felt weird to kill someone who didn't remember the things they had done.

Sometimes you wished that it could have been different, but if this was how it always ended up you wouldn't change a thing, because it meant that you might not be here with Ben.

You smile up at Ben, adjusting his dark tie with a steady hand and smoothing out the collar of his black suit. "We've been here for twenty minutes. And it was you that wanted to come to my show."

Ben grins. "Maybe I just wanted to see you all dressed up sweetheart. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

He had, several times before you left your apartment. Not to mention you'd walked out of the bedroom and into the living room Ben had all but tackled you onto the couch and made the both of you late because you had to redo your makeup.

Your dress was maroon, backless, and had capped sleeves that fell off your shoulders to curve just over your biceps. It was cinched at the waist and fell elegantly to your feet that were encased in a pair of black heels that made you almost tall enough to reach Ben's shoulders. There was a new necklace hanging around your neck, one that Ben had gotten you for your one month anniversary. It was a kite cut emerald about the size of the end of your pinky. You still had the pearl necklace that Noir had stolen from you, but now when you looked at it, you felt sad and didn't remember your father. Not to mention the pearl necklace that Ben gave you as a replacement was still in pieces from the night that you both wanted to forget.

So he'd gotten you this one and you loved it, because it reminded you of Ben's beautiful eyes, the same ones that were focused on you right now, shining in the light of the gallery.

Ben looked better than you did, then again you always thought he did. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Every time you looked at him you couldn't believe he was all yours. You wondered if he felt that way whenever he looked at you.

"I can't leave early, it’s my party remember? It would be rude to-"

He leans in again, his hand tightening on your waist. "I'd much rather take you home and congratulate you myself."

Ben doesn't miss the shiver that travels down your spine with his words, eyes shifting to the goosebumps that erupt on your arms. "Come on doll, I could go get the car right now." He purrs pressing a kiss just under your left ear, feeling your resolve begin to waver, which was already hanging by a thread. Ben never needed to do much to persuade you, but you noticed that when it came to you Ben also had a hard time saying no. And you loved how easily you worked him.

“Didn’t you congratulate me before we left?” You murmur kissing along his sharp jaw. “And this morning?” You drag your hands up his chest feeling a low groan vibrate through his rib cage. “And last night?”

“Are you complaining doll?” His eyes glint mischievously, smirk pulling at the end of his lips.

“No. Because I happen to like congratulating you too.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to congratulate you.” Ben nudges his nose against yours, before fitting his soft lips over your mouth. The subtle scratch of his well trimmed beard tickles against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, his hand pressed against the small of your back, securing you against his strong body.

It was moments like this that made you want to melt into him, to let him take everything you were, and everything he was and mold them together as one. Ben was everything to you and now that you knew what it was like to have him not be in your life, you were never going to let him go.

"Ben." You smile, gently laying your hand on his cheek, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard scratch against your palms. "Please, just another hour at least."

"Sweetheart-"

You stand up on tip toe, so you can whisper in his ear while holding tight to his right shoulder. "Baby please. One more hour and then you'll have me all to yourself."

"Promise?" Ben murmurs, eyes darkening with your proposition.

"I promise."

Ben smiles pleased, and turns back to survey the crowds chattering about the paintings you had done, his arm wrapped around your waist.

The different sized canvases on the wall were awash with colors. The theme was "Out With the Old and In With the New," inspired by a trip Ben and you had taken to Philadelphia, but also you saw it as a new beginning, a way for the two of you to shake off the shadow of the past and move into the future together. He'd wanted to see how much Philadelphia had changed and you hadn’t been there since your brother’s funeral.

The two of you had spent the week going to places you knew all too well before you became supes. Some of the buildings were still there, while others had vanished into obscurity. Ben's family estate was still just as you remembered it. He was still technically the owner, but you didn't want to make him stay there, not when you knew about the scars that clung to the walls and creeped along the staircases. He had stepped foot inside, the musty smell wafting out through the open doors, the dust swirling in clouds with every unsure step he took. Ben's father had died a few years before Ben went to Russia, and despite all the ways Ben disappointed him, Ben's father still left him everything.

When Ben stood just in the entryway of the mansion you could see the weight settle on his shoulders once more, the weight his father put there and pressed into him. The last time the two of you had been there was when Ben's father died, but you hadn't been able to comfort Ben the way you wanted to then. This time you took him into your arms and pressed his head into your shoulder, trailing your fingers into his hair, and holding him close to you. Ben put it up for sale before the two of you left, and you were more than happy to see it go.

Your family home was still standing, but inhabited by your distant relatives from your brother's side of the family. You hadn't tried to make a connection with them since you vanished forty years ago and didn't want to insert yourself into their lives now. You had everything you needed, you had a family, and you had Ben.

The canvases on the walls were born from what you found remaining in Philadelphia, the city that rose from the one you used to know so well. Each painting was an amalgamation of your memories of the Philadelphia from your youth painted in shades of gray and what replaced it, rose from the canvas in splashes of bold color as if rising from the ashes. It was one of your best shows, and judging by the chatter you had heard and how excited your agent and the curator was you knew that there weren't many canvases left over. Your favorite was hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room, the centerpiece of the entire show.

 It was painted from the memory of the day Ben and you sat on the warm soft grass by the pond at Fairmount park. In the painting two people sat on the bank, the boy half turned to stare at the girl with a flower tucked into his jacket pocket and the girl half turned, her face pointed down focusing on a watercolor pad  in her lap while her hair fell forward, but the audience could still see her smile and the boy's smirk. They sat in a haze of black and white while the new park swirled out from them in bold colors.

Ben hadn't seen it until you showed up to the gallery a few moments before the show opened. You'd kept it a surprise, only working on it whenever he was working, and his reaction was worth it. As soon as he saw it Ben had stopped dead in his tracks just within the front doors as if he couldn't believe it, his gaze focused on the picture. You'd asked him if he liked it and in response he had grabbed you and kissed you so fiercely in front of your agent and the curator that both of them walked away to give you some privacy. You were still buzzing from that kiss, well, the kiss and what Ben had done to you on the couch before you left your apartment together.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Ben glances in the direction of the bar before looking back at you. "Do you want something?"

"No, I'm okay right now. Thanks though."

He presses a kiss into the top of your head before he vanishes into the crowd. You prepare yourself for the wave of loss you feel whenever Ben leaves. It had only gotten worse after months of spending time together. When he went out of town it was almost unbearable, but he did try his best to keep you posted, by calling you whenever he could. Sometimes you worried that you needed him too much, that he thought you were being too clingy, but every time you tried to consciously pull back it was Ben that always doubled his efforts to be around you, almost as if he was trying to make up for you toning it down. It reassured you that Ben wanted you there and genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

"Y/n!" You hear a familiar voice say and you turn your head to see your friend Levi making his way through the crowd. His dark curly hair hangs over his shoulders in gentle waves and he's wearing a black button down shirt that he's rolled up to his elbows revealing the patchwork of ink covering every square inch of his golden skin. Levi was also an artist that showed at the gallery, which is how the two of you met. Over the years you had each gone to each other's shows and then out to dinner to celebrate. He was a good friend, but you knew he had feelings for you.

You had forgotten that he was going to be here, hadn't thought about it, and hadn't told Ben. An important thing that you should have told him because Levi is the man that you'd almost slept with.

It had almost happened two years ago and you had come to Levi's show, a collection of recycled sculptures that had stunned New York City. The two of you had gone out to dinner as you always did and after, Levi had leaned in to kiss your cheek to say goodbye, but you'd turned at the wrong moment and he'd caught your lips. The both of you had frozen outside the darkened restaurant, the sounds of the city rising around you, his dark brown eyes catching and holding your gaze. You don't know why you did it, maybe because you'd been lonely for so long or maybe because Rosemary had told you that you needed to start trying again, that she was worried about you being alone, so you kissed Levi.

You weren't sure how you ended up back at his apartment in his bed, but you'd stopped him just before you had sex. You told him that you couldn't do that, that you didn't think that you could be what he wanted, and that you were sorry. It had felt wrong to give him hope, only to take all away again. For you to do that had reminded you of the hope Ben had given you when you finally slept with him and how hollow you were when he broke your heart and told you that you meant nothing.

You refused to do that to someone else. 

Levi had been confused, but he'd respected you, told you that you didn't have to apologize for anything. Unfortunately since then it had been a little bit awkward, because you knew he still had feelings for you, not to mention he'd seen you naked.

"Levi!" You smile back at him

He pulls you in for a hug, holding on to you for a second longer than he should. "How are you? I haven't seen you around and you didn't come to my show. I was worried."

"Oh I was out of town for a little bit." You wave a hand. "Kinda last minute."

"Oh. Well, I guess you weren't too busy for this." He gestures to the canvases on the walls. "They're gorgeous. I think this is my favorite show of yours."

"You say that after every show."

"And you say that at every one of my shows."

"Because it's true." You roll your eyes at Levi. "Your work gets better with age-"

"I could say the same thing to you." Levi runs a hand through his tangled dark hair. "Come on, you have to tell me the truth."

"What?"

"Were you an art prodigy or something? You can't be much older than me and your work is just insanely mind-altering."

If only he knew.

"Nope. I've just been practicing a long time." You smile to yourself at the inside joke.

"So unfair. I hate you, you know that right." Levi grins.

"Oh please. If anything I should hate you. I've never been good with sculpture."

"I told you that I would be available for lessons anytime."

"I'll think about it."

Levi glances around the room at all the people. "You know, I think they make a bigger deal about your shows than mine."

"Green isn't a good color on you Levi." You snort at him.

He only smiles. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You freeze. It was the same thing that Ben had asked you moments ago before Levi showed up. Except when Ben said it you couldn’t help but smile and blush, but when Levi said it, it just was weird.  "No. But it's alright." You smile awkwardly.

"Did you-" He clears his throat sensing the shift in conversation. "Did you want to get dinner after your show?"

The two of you hadn't had dinner since the incident two years ago, instead you had gone for coffee, because it felt less intimate and more like something the two of you could do as friends. You didn’t think that you would fall into bed with him if you were fully caffeinated. But it still made you feel bad because you thought you were leading him on, even when you told him exactly what you wanted.

"I know we haven’t in a while, but I miss you." Levi's eyes soften. "I know that what happened was a little awkward, but we can still be friends. Or maybe we can talk this out and you can tell me why you think doing this would be bad.” He gestures between the two of you. “Because we have so much in common and I really like you. And I think you do like me, but you just won't admit it-“

"Levi-" You begin to say, trying to think of a way to let him down easy, again, because he still didn’t seem to understand.

Ben's muscular arm weaves around your waist, pulling your hips back into his where he stands behind you as soon as you begin to answer, the warmth of his body like a shock to your system. He's got a glass of scotch in his free hand and he's staring at Levi with an unreadable expression.

Ben kisses you on the cheek, lingering for a second too long for it to be casual, blatantly marking his territory.

"What did I miss?" Ben says it as if he couldn’t hear the entire conversation from the bar, but you knew he had.

Levi’s eyes widen at Ben’s appearance and flick to you as if looking for an answer. Ben downs the glass in one gulp, placing it on the tray of a waiter who passes by.

“Ben, this is my friend Levi. Levi this is-“

You hesitate for a moment. Calling Ben your boyfriend felt wrong sometimes. Your relationship felt different to just say that he was your boyfriend, it didn’t seem to be enough, not to mention you felt like Ben was a little old to be your boyfriend, just as you felt a little old to be his girlfriend. Calling him your everything felt more appropriate, but it was too intimate for someone to know other than Ben.

“Ben.” Ben says extending his free hand to grasp Levi’s in a death grip, and you see Levi wince sightly when Ben tightens his grip. “Her husband.”

If you’d been drinking something you would have done a spit take right then and there. The word coming out of Ben’s mouth was foreign and so out of the blue the two of you might as well be swimming in the middle of a cobalt colored sea. The two of you hadn't spoken about that at all. It had never come up in conversation, even when the two of you took a walk around Rosemary's block and passed a jewelry store with a display of engagement rings. In fact the only time that you'd mentioned that you wanted to marry someone was the night that Ben almost killed Noir forty years ago and Ben made a joke about the two of you getting married. It had hurt when he did, it felt like he was mocking you, like he thought that it wasn't important.

That night you'd asked Ben if he wanted to marry someone and he said "maybe." You weren't sure if that was because Ben didn't believe in marriage or if he thought it wasn’t necessary, but to you things like that were important. You were old-fashioned and you wanted to marry Ben, you wanted to be his wife, but Ben hadn't proposed or stated that he wanted to marry you.

That could be your insecurity about being too clingy or your insecurity that Ben would pull away from you rising all over again, but you weren't sure if Ben cared about being your husband.

And yes maybe you were expecting a proposal sometime in the future, but it still hadn't happened and a part of you was worried that because it had not happened yet, it never would. Mostly because you couldn't think of what he was waiting for. He'd said that he never wanted to leave you ever again, told you that he wanted to give you everything you wanted, told you that he'd never love anyone else the way that he loved you, and yet there hadn't been talk to marriage. Not to mention you had told him that you loved him and that you'd never leave him and that you couldn't live without him.

Yes, you were living together, sharing a bank account, and spending every waking moment of your lives together, but there had been no discussion about him marrying you.

Which is odd because why did he tell Levi that we were married? Was he just trying to think of something official to make him back off?

Levi's eyes widen with the word "husband" his eyes darting to you in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you got married, congratulations." It doesn't sound sincere, but if Ben hears the insincerity, he ignores it.

"Thanks Levi." Ben smiles wider, pulling you tighter against his side. "It's fairly recent. We're still in that Honeymoon Phase, you know how it is." Ben's smile turns more into a smirk. "Kinda hard to leave the apartment if you know what I mean, champ. Could barely get her to this thing."

Your entire face flushes bright red in embarrassment, struck speechless. You knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was doing this because he was jealous, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or any less Levi's business what Ben and you did in your apartment. Ben also didn't have anything to be jealous about, Levi was nothing compared to him, no one was compared to Ben, not when you were children and not now. You were sure that you'd told him that over and over again.

"Oh-um-" Levi clears his throat awkwardly, his own cheeks the same color of crimson of yours. "Yeah, well-"

"But if you still want to have dinner, I'm sure my wife and I could work out something." Ben smiles enjoying how frazzled Levi is.

You try not to flinch when Ben says the word "wife." "Ben-" You begin, hoping to give Levi a way out.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule. I've got a show coming up and well-" Levi fumbles. "I'll see you." He turns and vanishes into the crowd of people flocking to your paintings.

Ben chuckles to himself. "He couldn't get out of here fast enough could he?"

You don't answer him. Ben's arm is around your waist, the warmth of his skin diffusing through his suit jacket and your dress into your body, but you don't feel the comfort you did when he first put it around you.

"You didn't have to do that." You say.

"Yes I did. He was trying to come on to my girl and we both know how much I hate sharing sweetheart." Ben replies light heartedly and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Uh-huh." You look up at him. "So, I'm your wife? Funny I don't remember our wedding."

Ben's smile fades for a minute, clearing his throat. "He wants to fuck you. I was just trying to-"

"He's my friend Ben. We've been friends since I started showing in this gallery."

"He asked you to dinner."

"We've been to dinner before. We sometimes go out after the shows." You reply vaguely.

“You went out with him?” His eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

“No. We had dinner as friends. I recall you and I having dinner as friend a lot.” You say, not about to admit to Ben that you almost slept with Levi. You knew that particular piece of information was unneeded and would only upset him.

“That’s different!” Ben scoffs.

“Why is that different?” You pull back from him, letting his arm fall from your waist as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Because we both already were in love with one another!” Ben says it matter-of-factly as if it's the most obvious answer in the entire world.

"What? That doesn't make it a date!"

Wait, did he think that all those times we went to dinner were dates? Has Ben just been thinking that we were going out all these years? Is he freaking crazy? He doesn't have a right to think that way, not when he was sleeping his way through every major city in America.

"Yes it does."

"So you're telling me all those years that we spent together we were dating? And that you chasing after every woman who crossed your path was you what? Us having an open relationship?"

Ben narrows his eyes. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I mean, it kind of is. You think that just because we loved one another and went out to get food it was a date."

"No. I mean that it's different because you loved me and I loved you!"

"Ben-"

“Did you fuck him?” Ben's jaw locks, anger flashing in his eyes as he changes the subject.

Your mouth drops open in shock. "What? No. I told you that I've never been with anyone else, only you. I wouldn't lie about something like that-"

Does he really think that I would lie about that?

Ben's body stiffens and you see the dots connect inside his mind, green eyes hardening to a solid chunk of unyielding jade. "Is that the guy you almost slept with?" His gaze turns murderous.

"Ben-"

Ben's head swivels to glare at where Levi is standing across the room from the two of you speaking to someone else about his work. You can practically see the gears turning in Ben's head as he thinks of all the ways that he can kill him.

Truthfully you knew that Ben had a tendency to get jealous, had known it since the night Howard and you were dancing together, but you didn’t think that he deserved to be jealous about this.

I thought he was dead. I was trying to move on.. AND I didn’t sleep with him. Not to mention Ben and I weren't together. It's not like I was cheating on him or something.

"Why are you getting so angry? I wasn't cheating on you, we weren't together. And I didn't sleep with him."

"But he fucking touched you." Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at the back of Levi's head and you know that if Ben had laser vision Levi would be dead.

"He touched me two years ago! You're being ridiculous. I didn't go on a murder rampage through New York City whenever you slept with someone. If I did that there wouldn't be anymore women left in the state of New York."

"I am not being ridiculous!" He snaps eyes flashing back to you.

"Okay you've got to calm down."

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down."

"I don't understand why you're getting so angry about something that didn't happen. Not to mention it's me that has the right to be angry!"

"Why?"

"Because this," You wave your hand around the gallery. "Is my job and that," You point at Levi "Is kind of my coworker and you embarrassed me!"

"What? How the fuck did I embarrass you?" Ben was trying to keep his voice down, but you knew that it was becoming difficult for him.

"Well, call me crazy, but I don't want to talk about my sex life with someone else. Not to mention you had no right to lie to him. I get that you get jealous, but what you did was uncalled for."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?" His hands are clenched into fists at his sides so tightly that the skin stretched tight over his knuckles is white.

"We aren't married Ben. We live together. Those are two different things."

"It's not that different." Ben's shoulders fall and you see something flash for just a moment in his eyes that looks like disappointment.

Does he really think that living together and being together is the same as being marriage? As making a life-long commitment to someone? I mean I want to be married to him because I want to make that promise to him, want to bind myself to him because he's the only man that I've ever loved and I ever will love. I want to be his wife because I can't see my life without him in it.

"It is to me."

"But-"

"But what?" You scoff.

"Well we-" Ben's eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the right words, but he comes up empty handed.

"The only time that you've ever brought up marriage was when you were drunk off your ass on my couch after Noir, when you brought up Howard and then made a joke about the two of us getting married!"

"I mean, it wasn't completely a joke and I told you that I wasn't that drunk." Ben frowns. "And that doesn’t mean anything!"

"What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? To me it does. Making that promise to someone, making a vow to them, binding yourself to them and saying those words aloud in front of everyone you love to someone means something to me. And I've told you that. I've told you what I wanted." You look up at him for a moment, before you realize something. It creeps along your skin like the first frost on a window pane. "Wait, are you saying that the idea of marriage doesn't mean anything to you? That you don't want to marry me?"

"Sweetheart wait a minute." Ben reaches out for you, but you take a shaky step back from him.

“What are we doing?”

 “Huh?”

“I mean really. What are we doing?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know that Ben can hear you. Emotion makes your voice wobble as you stand there and look at him. He looks just as devastatingly handsome as he always does, but something lurks in his eyes that you can't place.

Deep down you had believed that Ben wanted to marry you, but maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but now you weren't sure. Based on everything he'd said in the last minute you were starting to think that Ben didn't want to marry you.

If marriage doesn't mean anything to him, then does that mean he doesn't want to marry me? And then where is this going? I know that I want to get married and if he doesn't does that mean I'm not his forever?

"What do you mean?" The look on his face shifts into something else, something that looks surprisingly like fear, and to see that on Ben's face was physically jarring.

"If we're not going to get married then why are doing this? Why are we-" You look around the room, suddenly cold. "Ben, why are we together?"

You knew that you loved Ben more than anything and that you wanted to be apart of his life forever, that you wanted Ben to be your always. You wanted to say those words to Ben, to make that vow to love and cherish him for the rest of your life, but he didn't want to make them to you. Suddenly you felt like the stupid little girl that lived in Philadelphia and always did what you were told the one that watched her best friend make out with girls like Missy Callahan and longed to be with him.

"Sweetheart-" Ben says, stepping forward to touch you again, but you pull away from him. "Wait-" The tone of his voice is thick with emotion, gruff, just a rumble.

“I think you should leave." You say it, but your voice sounds hollow and far away.

It was the first time that you’d told him to leave since the night he came back to you, the first time since he came back that you wanted to be alone. You wanted to think this over, because now that you knew how he felt about marriage all you could think of is the possibility of spending years together only to be traded out by a newer model because Ben never wanted to marry you.

The people around you laughing and chatting at each of your paintings all of a sudden seem to be mocking you. Their happiness and joy taunting the warring heartbreak and hurt that swirls in the pit of your stomach. You feel your mind begin to slip into the memory of when you walked out of the bathroom at the night of the premiere, when you wove through the people who were so happy to be there while your heart was breaking. When it felt like your world was ending, and honestly, the feeling that you have now feels almost too similar to ignore.

"No I want to talk about this. I don’t want to leave.”

"I want you to." You lock eyes with him, fighting the urge to cry. "I need some time and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here right now."

"But-" Ben's eyes haven't left you.

"Please go."

"Sweetheart-“

“No." You say sharply. "I think it would be better if you just went home. You wanted to anyway.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. "And this isn't the place for us to talk about this."

“Not because I didn’t want to be with you. I wanted to go home with you.” He emphasizes and reaches for your hand, but you move it away from him. Ben winces as if it hurts for him to be unable to touch you. Given what he'd confessed to you in the past you knew it was true.

“No I-“ You shake your head, tears burning against your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be with you if I’m not your forever. If you don't want to marry me. I-” Your eyes lock with his, hurt and heartbreak clamping around your heart in a vice. “So please just go.”

"Let me explain."

"No. I need to be alone."

“Sweetheart-“

“How many times do I have to say it? I want you to leave!”

The people around you turn to look at where Ben and you are standing, hearing your final words ring in the air between the two of you.

Ben freezes, something vulnerable crossing over his face before his expression hardens into the one that was more familiar. “Fine.”

And as he walks away, weaving through the people that stand at every canvas, you try not to feel the pit open up beneath your feet ready to swallow your broken heart whole.

When you get home the apartment is cold and dark, the shadows of your living room lengthening with every step you take towards the dark hallway and what lies beyond. Hurt, sadness, and remorse creep along your skin like a spider, it's spiderweb clinging to your body and ensnaring you like a wiggling fly in it's grasp. There was no warmth, only the cold chill of fear of what you’d find when you entered your shared bedroom.

Ben's cologne was stale, hanging in the air, but it wasn't fresh, just a reminder, and you knew deep down it was because he wasn't here. But somewhere you clung on with bloodied fingertips hoping and praying that he was.

You'd spent the rest of the evening nursing a glass of red wine, fiddling with your necklace, and talking with anyone who came up to you about the paintings, but you lacked the enthusiasm you should have.

Nothing else seemed to matter, not after the fight you'd had with Ben, and standing amongst your creations felt frivolous, especially when everything you said to him rang in your ears.

At the end of the night you'd stood at the centerpiece, looking at the  familiar brushstrokes and splashes of color of the picture of Ben and you sitting on the bank of a pond while tears crept along your cheeks.

Your agent had taken your tears as tears of joy, happy that you’d sold out your show, but gazing up at the painting you regretted it's sale. It made you feel like a part of you was being sold, as if the memory you had of that day would go with the painting to it's new owner leaving you with nothing.

You'd realized as the night wore on how stupid you'd been. You wished that you could go back and apologize for everything you said to Ben, because it didn't matter, nothing else mattered to you but Ben. And you hated yourself for telling him to leave, not when you knew how much he hated it when you told him to go and when you knew after all these years he still struggled with the idea that you didn't want him with you, when in reality being without him made you feel as if you were drowning.

And right now in the aftermath of the fight, you could feel the seaweed tangling around your ankle to pull you under.

As you stood there gazing up at the painting you'd realized that maybe Ben really did think the two of you were married and maybe deep down you knew that. That it wasn't about saying those vows in an official ceremony, it was about everything the two of you said to one another every day since he came back, it was about the promises that Ben made and kept, and it was about everything the two of you had been through over the years.

A stupid ceremony and certificate didn't matter to you, not if it stood in the way of Ben and you. You'd graciously take everything he had to give you for the rest of your life, and you knew that Ben felt the same way. You knew that he wasn't going to leave you, wasn't going to cheat on you with someone else, and wasn't going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you had gone through and not when you knew how much Ben loved you.

That was what you wanted to say to him now, because you felt so stupid that you yelled at him. To tell him that none of it mattered, that the only thing that mattered to you was him.

The urge to throw up surges into the back of your throat as you creep down the hallway, but when you open the bedroom door you see that the bed is empty. A cold hands traces it's way down your vertebrae bringing with it the chill of fear that you'd done it, you'd finally made Ben want to leave you, that he was fed up and he was gone for good.

You almost don't make it to the bathroom sink before you throw up the two glasses of wine you drank, the sour taste of bile and alcohol burning your throat as your hands tighten on the cool lip of the marble vanity. Sweat and tears streak down your red face as a shudder works it's way through your body.

You'd hoped that he'd be in bed, the thought was optimistic at best, but you knew that Ben couldn't go to bed without you. Even when you were up late painting Ben would always pull you away to come to bed, because he needed you there, he wanted you beside him as he drifted off, holding you close against his chest and molding his body around yours. When Ben went away for work and was gone for days, he always came back with dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he didn't sleep, because Ben couldn't sleep without you.

You could feel the ghost of his touch against your skin, causing more tears to crest and fall down your cheeks and another shudder shake your body.

You scramble to find your phone where you placed it on the counter beside you. The selfie of the two of you on your home screen pressed cheek to cheek almost mocking before you swipe your thumb frantically to find his contact. You hold it up to your ear listening to the line ring and each time it does, it's like another nail in the coffin, because Ben doesn't answer.

When the voicemail starts you're not really sure what to say.

"Hey it's me-" You clear your throat, but it does little to hide the sob. "I just got home and you're not here and I miss you." Your voice breaks. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you or made a big deal about it, please Ben just come home. I was being stupid and I don't want to live without-"

The message is cut off and you stand there with the phone pressed into your cheek for another minute, unable to put it down. You feel it crunch in your hand as you lose control, crying harder as you stand there in front of your vanity trying desperately not to feel like this is the end and Ben was never coming back.

The shower you take is longer than you intended, because you zone out halfway through and it's only when the water runs cold that you realize you need to get out. It's been over an hour since you got home, almost past one in the morning, but Ben still isn't there.

Instead of putting on one of your shirts you put on a pair of panties and you grab an oversized cotton shirt of Ben's that hangs mid-thigh, inhaling the familiar scent and trying to find some comfort, but all it does is remind you that he's gone and nothing compares to when he's here with you.

When you slide into bed, it's cold, and fear begins to trickle along your skin, fear that Ben was never coming back and the last thing you'd ever say to him was that you couldn't be with him and you wanted him to leave.

Something rough works it's way down your arm in a gentle motion, stirring you from sleep. One look at the alarm clock on your bedside table reveals that it's well past four in the morning. You didn't remember falling asleep all you remembered was crawling into bed and hugging Ben's pillow to your chest wishing that it was him.

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness, noticing a dark figure sitting on the edge of your side of the bed staring down at you. Ben's green eyes catch in the light that comes from the cracked bathroom door, flashing dark green in the mist of darkness that shrouds his body from the rest of the light. He's wearing the white button down shirt, but his suit coat and tie are missing. The first few buttons are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing freckled skin. His hand is tracing it's way over your arm, the roughness of his palm against your skin familiar, warm and comforting.

"Ben?" Your voice is hoarse and broken, for a moment unsure if this is a dream and he's not really here.

He doesn't say anything.

"Ben!" You practically shout it this time and surge upwards out of the bed to wrap your arms around his body so tightly that you think you hear the cracking of bone, but you can't control yourself now. Not when he's warm and he's here, not when he came back despite what you yelled at him.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Tears were streaking down your face where it’s buried against the smooth slope his neck, saturating his dress shirt. “ I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like that.” You pull back to cup his cheeks taking in a shaky breath as you lean your forehead against his, memorizing the familiar edges you love so much. Even as close as you were to him you wanted more, you always wanted more. “I love you, only you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I ever will love anyone. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I asked you to leave, I don’t want you to leave ever again. Whenever you’re not here it’s cold and colorless and I don’t want to live my life like that ever.” Your body shakes with sobs as you hold Ben tighter against you, afraid that he’ll vanish before your very eyes. “You and me together is enough for me. It’ll always be enough for me. We don’t have to-“

“It’s not enough for me.” Ben interrupts, his eyes not leaving your face. His expression is unreadable, the soft plains of his face sharpening in the moonlight that seeps through the bottom of the curtains of your shared bedroom.

“What?” You gasp and could feel your heart seize in your chest and your throat tighten in fear.

I can’t lose him, not again, not over a stupid argument that doesn’t mean anything when Ben means everything.

“This.” He clears his throat and gestures between the two of you. “Us being together like this, it’s not enough for me.”

It feels like you'd taken a bullet to the chest again, a sickening jolt back, and a sharp pain that follows as everything you know is stripped away. You're sure that you're about to break down into nothing, your heart crumbling in your hands as you try to hold it out to him and he turns away from you. Him saying those words to you made you feel like you had nothing left, because to know that you had him and lost him hurt more than knowing what it was like not to have him as completely as you had for the past five months.

"Ben please. I'm sorry I-" You sob, trying to cling to him, afraid to let him go, but he pulls away and stands up from the bed. "Don’t go please! Just tell me what I can do to make this right. Tell me how I can fix this." The words sound garbled as they exhale in one breath through tears and snot reaching for him frantically. "Please Ben I can't lose you-"

Ben takes your outstretched hand, gaze focused on your face. "Come on." He tugs gently, expecting you to follow him out of the bed.

"No, I want to talk about this. I don't want you to go!"

"Come on sweetheart." Ben encourages you quietly, tugging your hand once more, and this time you allow him to help you up from the bed.

You follow behind him, sobs shaking your shoulders because you're afraid Ben is taking you out to the living room to yell at you again, to tell you that he doesn't love you and you're going to find a packed bag.

But then Ben squeezes your hand to comfort you as you enter the living room and you stop dead in your tracks.

The entire room is covered in lavender, the kitchen counter, the coffee table in front of the plush leather couch, the large wooden table on the opposite side of the room that serves as your desk/workstation, and on the kitchen island broken up intermittently by candles that cast a soft honeyed light over the room. You gasp softly as Ben releases your hand, looking around the space with awe. You'd never seen so many bouquets of lavender in your entire life, each one sitting in a pretty glass vase, and in the center of the room stands one of your cherry wood colored easels holding the painting of Ben and you sitting on the bank of the pond.

You step closer to the painting, tracing the brush strokes with your eyes as you had earlier that night, reaching out to touch the edge, suddenly confused.

"Ben, what is this?" You turn to look at him, wiping the back of your hand across your face. You were sure that your eyes were puffy and that you were still covered in a layer of tears and snot, but you didn't care. Ben had seen you like this before and you were more worried about what was happening rather than how you looked.

You didn't understand what was happening, not when Ben came home so late and not when you had spent the entire night worried that he wasn't going to come back to you.

Ben is standing by the record player pushed up against the brick wall of your apartment that stands opposite your exhaustive collection of records and drops the needle. The song that begins to play is hauntingly familiar and you recognize it before Russ Columbo starts to sing.

"I can't forget the night I met you, That's all I'm dreaming of..."

It wasn't the first time that Ben and you had listened to this particular record, or danced together in the living room of your apartment in the quiet hours of the evening to "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love." The song was filled with memories, some good, some bad that the two of you had shared over the years. The words heavy and familiar, the story much too similar to the one you shared with Ben.

A part of you is surprised that he chose to play it. You still didn't quite understand what was happening, you thought that Ben was breaking up with you, but this didn't feel like a ending.

"How did you get the painting? I sold it." You ask him.

"You made a promise to be faithful, By all the stars above…"

The song continues to play bringing memories of each time it did rising with the soft familiar swell of the music. A flash of you dancing for the first time with Ben flits across your mind bringing the usual warmth and happiness followed by the memory of your birthday when you danced together and it felt like no one else existed as if it were just the two of you left in a world where everyone else was gone.

"I know." Ben half-smiles. "I bought it."

"But why?"

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

He's still standing by the record player as if he's afraid to get closer to you. "Well, I've never bought any of your work and I wanted to be supportive." Ben shrugs. "And I didn't want someone else to have a piece of us Sweetheart, felt wrong."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

Your breath catches. It was the same thought you'd had when you were standing at the painting at the end of the night wishing that you hadn't sold it, wishing that you kept it for Ben and you.

"Look I-" Ben clears his throat. "I've- fuck- I’ve never had a way with words, you know that." He takes a cautionary step forward towards you as if he's afraid you'll run. "But I'm going to try my best here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry."

"You made a plaything out of romance, What do you know of love…"

"Ben no, you don't have to apologize for anything." You close the distance between the two of you, taking his hands in yours to wash away any uncertainty Ben has about touching you. "It was me, it was all me and I shouldn't have said what I said and I shouldn’t have made you leave. I hate it when you leave. I-"

"Hey. Let me say this first." Ben's thumb rubs over the back of your hand, his eyes wide and an understanding smile on his face.

"At first, a slight suggestion, That grew to light my mind, Was the eternal question…"

"Okay." Your heart was stuttering in your chest, senses overwhelmed by the lavender that covered the room.

Ben looks down at your hands for a minute. "I'm sorry that I made you cry again. I hate it when you cry, especially when it's my fault. And I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't want to marry you.” He almost whispers it and takes a deep breath. "When you asked me forty years ago if I wanted to marry anyone the only person that I could ever see myself marrying was you. Spending my life with you, waking up with you every morning, going to bed with you, and showing you how much you mean to me. And the truth is, it's all I've been thinking about since I got back, but I-" He swallows, still not looking up at you. "Fuck. I didn't think you'd say yes. "

"True love is hard to find…"

He wanted to marry me forty years ago?

Your eyes widen. "What? Why would you think that?”

Ben's green eyes flick up to yours for a moment, raising an eyebrow to remind you that he's trying to say something.

"Sorry." You murmur, tightening your hands around his.

"I don't deserve you, I never have. Fuck, it feels like my whole life I've been trying to earn you, but I never seem to come close." He sighs. "I've fucked up so many times and I've hurt people, killed others. I fucked up our friendship and I pushed you away, because I was-” Ben tighten his jaw as if it’s difficult to say the next words, “-Shit-" he murmurs the word under his breath before he continues, "scared to fail you and scared that I couldn't be what you wanted. I thought you deserved someone better, someone good, someone who wasn't such a fuck up like me, someone who you could love you the way that you deserve and I-" Ben swallows and takes another deep breath. "I spent my life chasing away everyone who tried because I hated the thought of you with someone else.”

"And in the day I found you, my love I had to share, I built my dreams around you…"

It hurt you to hear him say those things about himself, hurt you to see him still buckle under the pressure that his father put on his shoulders, and hurt you to see how little he thought of himself. Ben was one of the strongest people you knew, but even then you knew he needed you, and you'd spent your entire life making sure that you were there for him and you weren’t going to stop now.

"Somehow you made me care…"

"And yet every time I'm with you, you've never make it seem like I don't belong there. You don’t make me feel like a fuck up or a disappointment. You don’t turn your back on me or ignore the parts of me I tried to cover up for so long from everyone else. You see me, more than anyone has.” Ben murmurs, the smile on his face breaks something deep down inside of you and you can feel the tears begin to spill all over again. He traces a rough hand along the soft smooth edges of your face. Hands that had done painful over the years but were only gentle to you, hands that held you close, and treated you with love that only you were able to see. "You make me feel loved and I thought that I'd never have that, that I didn’t deserve it, but ever since I was eight years old you've forced yourself into my life and I can't imagine a world without you in it, I don't want to."

"Ben-" Your voice breaks with a sniffle, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Shh. I've still got a few more things." Ben smiles, brushing away a tear from your cheek. "You know my old man never gave me any advice that was worth a damn, but your dad did. He said that there's going to be a lot of women I run into and that most men pick from first glance the flashy ones that don’t last, the ones that aren't willing to stay for long, and the ones that care about all the wrong things. Your dad told me that I should pick someone that understands me better than I understand myself, someone who holds me accountable, someone that doesn't put up with any of my bullshit, someone to grow with, someone who loves me even if I believe they shouldn’t, and someone that makes me a better man." He chuckles under his breath. "And I knew exactly who he was talking about the minute he said it, because it's you sweetheart, it's always been you, from the moment you walked into that damn study and lied to my father about where I was."

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

The song is in full swing now, but you can barely hear it, all you can hear is Ben's steady heartbeat and yours beating together in tandem. The love you feel for him swelling in your chest with the music and with his words. You want so badly to pull him close and tell him how much you love him, how he's the only one, how he's everything you dreamed of, but you're trying not to interrupt him.

"Eighty years ago I made a mistake, I asked you to leave everything behind and come with me, because I couldn't lose you and because I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. I didn't ask you to marry me, I didn't tell you how much you meant to me or that I loved you. I was selfish and I took advantage of our friendship. I strung you along all those fucking years, made you wait-"

"You didn’t take advantage of our friendship-“ You begin to say.

"Sweetheart please." He squeezes your hand and continues. "Forty years ago I made another mistake." He closes his eyes as if trying to forget for a moment, before he looks you in the eye once more. "I had everything I wanted for one night and then I fucking lost it. I treated you like you meant nothing to me. I threw you away. I said terrible things to push you away. I hurt you, and I will regret those things for the rest of my life, because it’s not true, you mean everything to me."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

You raise your free hand to his cheek. "I've forgiven you." You whisper and Ben leans into your hand.

"I know. And I don't deserve that, I don’t deserve you, I never have and I don’t think I ever will. You have meant more to me than anyone in my entire life. You are my family and my home. You have stood by me and loved me despite all the terrible shitty things I've done. You have seen me at my worst and you never left. Being your boyfriend isn’t enough for me. You being my girlfriend isn’t enough and frankly, it doesn’t feel like the right word for you not when you mean this much to me and not when you're the only person I need. So I'm asking you," Ben drops down on one knee, making your breath catch in your chest.

"Eighty years too late, to spend the rest of your life with me. Because I've spent the past forty without you and I don't want to spend another second regretting that I didn't do this eighty years ago. I'm asking you to chose me one more time, Sweetheart, and I promise that every day I will chose you every day for as long as I live. You said that you wanted to be my forever, well sweetheart, I can't imagine anything better." Ben swallows and reaches into his coat with his free hand, his right still holding on to yours, for a black suede box. "Will you marry me?"

You stand there for a moment stunned as he opens the box in his hand, gazing up at you like you're the sun as if you shone so brightly that the heavenly hosts bowed to your brilliance and he can't help but worship you. It's the same way that you saw the couple looking at each other the night Ben and you danced for the first time that continues to play in your silent apartment, bathed in the golden glow of candle light.

You gaze at Ben, eyes tracing the familiar face, seeing the old parts of him and the new ones that you'd come to love. You could see the boy you grew up with and the man he became, the same one you knew as a child and the man you fell in love with. The one who always put you first, who cared for you, protected you, and the one you thought you lost years ago.

The ring nestled in the black velvet is everything you imagined it to be. It's perfect, elegant, classic, it's you in every way, and it only proves to you again how well Ben knows you.

You could remember the day that Howard proposed, when all you felt was dread as he dropped to one knee in the dining room in front of your parents and revealed the ugliest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen, when he didn't make a grand gesture, didn’t profess his love to you, and didn’t make you feel special.

But Ben did. He always made you feel special, seen, loved, and appreciated. You refused to live another moment away from him and refused to deprive yourself of this indulgence, of him.

Ben had saved you more times than you could count and the day he took you away from Philadelphia was one of them. Away from a man who didn't love you, who didn't appreciate you, and who didn't think that you were worth more than a trophy to parade around a city.

You smile at the ring, tears glazing your eyes, because after all these years, you were right, Ben knew exactly the ring to get you and he knew exactly what to say to make everything else fade away into the past and have you hopeful for the coming future with him.

"Sweetheart?" Ben murmurs, looking suddenly worried and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.

You look from the ring to the man you love with your entire being. "Took you long enough Benjamin."

Ben's smile makes you melt from the inside out. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes." You smile, vision blurring as Ben smiles even wider and puts the ring on your finger, before rising up from the ground to capture your lips against his as if he wishes for the two of you to fall in love all over again.

"There isn't anyone else Ben." You murmur against his lips. "There never has been and there never will be. All I  want is you and me, forever."

Ben kisses you all over again, his hands holding you so tight against his chest that it’s almost painful, your own tangled in his hair, but you can't stop and you don't want him to either. Not when this was what you wished for, not when this was what you wanted for so long and you thought you'd never had, and not when you'd thought you'd lost him.

"Then I'll give it to you sweetheart." Ben presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shining. "I'll give you forever."

"And you call it madness, Oh but I call it love…"

A/n: I'm not crying... I lied, I am BIG time. Goodness, finishing this series is like saying goodbye to characters that feel like my children. Honestly, I can’t believe that we've finally all made it here, but here it is. There are so many people that I want to thank, too many to name, those who have been here from the beginning and those who came later, people who's constant comments, reblogs, and encouragements made me turn this story from one chapter into a multi-chapter fic. There are just so many wonderful people that I've interacted with on this site that made me want to continue writing and helped me find confidence in how I wrote and this fic is for them.

As always thank you so much for reading! This series will be continued in the form of some one-shots that I am plotting out currently and I have a lot of really cute ideas and some that are more angsty. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for future fics in this universe. ❤️🥰

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@libby99hb @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

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@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Can I request either a fic or headcanon of romanced Astarion and a good aligned, Human tav having a fight about him doing the Ascension ritual (Tav being against it, and trying to gently make him see reason), then Astarion gets incredibly angry and shouts something awful (maybe the 'I hope you die screaming' or the ' the problem with what cazador did is that he did it to me' when she says ascending will make him a new cazador). She's hurt and shocked and retreats from the fight. She starts leaving Astarion in camp etc. given she thinks he hates her and she also is angry at him for still thinking lives are expandable. Then one night he gets kidnapped by his siblings and when he wakes up in the kennels he is sure he lost her forever now, and never see her again cause why would she save him? Only for her to come and save him from Cazador. Sorry for the long request! Could it be from Astarion's pov as well? Thank you!

Hi! It has been a long time sice I wrote reader instead of OC Tiriel! And sorry for making you wait for so long!

It's Over

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

It's over.

Astarion's wrists bleed and he's been staring at the pool of blood for what feels like an eternity.

The tadpole took away his instant regeneration and now his torturers can enjoy the most peculiar spectacle ever.

Opening Astarion's wounds.

His skin is flayed, his face is covered in bruises. Pain is already numbed—the tadpole doesn't like its host being killed.

Maybe he can finally die?

A kick in the stomach forces him to vomit blood. Punishment. Yes, it's his punishment for tasting freedom. For breaking the rules.

The taste of love.

His siblings are watching the execution with undisguised gloating. Astarion is getting what he deserved. He never helped with their plans to escape—but it was him who slipped from their master's hands.

It was intended to be a lesson. Instead it's the best show they've seen in years.

A silver dagger is touching Astarion's face. He can feel the heat of the cursed metal. Marks left by silver are permanent.

It seems like his master is going to take the last thing Astairon owns.

His face.

Astarion silently weeps. His appearance is the only thing he has. His body, his face, his hands. The master needs them, doesn't he? Who will seduce the victims, if not the perfect- looking elf?

The master expects Astarion to beg.

He doesn't. The pathetic whimpers are stuck in his sore throat. He won't give them this pleasure.

Two months of freedom compensated two centuries of slavery. Astarion has self-dignity. He can say 'no'. He can stand for himself.

You taught him that.

The torture continues. And Astarion breaks down.

He screams. He yells. He begs.

The answer to his tears is evil laughter. They wanted a show—he is giving them one.

It lasts for hours. For days. And the two months of freedom fade from Astarion's memory.

It wasn't real. It never happened. It all was a feverish dream.

But Astarion knows it wasn't.

Your face, Your touches. Your love. 

The way you hugged him. The way you touched him. The way you supported him.

You were everything... and he betrayed you.

I hope you die screaming.

At first, you promised to help with the ritual, and he even dared dream about you by his side as he became a vampire overlord. But then, you started backing off. 

Bad idea. No one should make deals with devils. Who knows what Cazador promised in exchange for power.

Astarion cursed you, said every toxic word he had in mind. It was easy to hurt you—you were so vulnerable to him and he even felt sadistic pleasure in doing so.

He expected you to throw him away from the camp, but you just stopped talking to him. Left him alone with his thoughts and anger.

And then, his siblings came to take him.

Astarion was back in the dungeons. Beaten and humiliated without any hope of escape.

"Leave him," the master says. "We have things to prepare"

Astarion is finally left alone. He crawls in the darkest corner and curls there in the fetus position. He couldn't care less about his naked body.

He thinks about you.

He closes his eyes and tries to remember the moments you were together. Cuddles. Yes, cuddles. The thing he expected to like the least. Just two bodies intertwined with each other. No sex, no movements, no words. He could stay like that for hours wrapping around you like a weighted blanket and enjoying your warmth.

The treasure he lost.

Astarion smiles bitterly. You must be in someone's else's arms. Probably the wizard. Yes, you've chosen him because he will never hurt you. His body is warm and he doesn't harm your neck...

He enters the reverie hoping he will see you there.

The only thing he has. The only thing his master can’t take away.

"Oh for fuck sake!" he hears your voice. "What have they done to you?!"

Warm hands hug him and then he feels a cape wrapping his bare shoulders. "Gods, Astarion? Are you alright?"

"You ... You are back..." he mutters.

"Of course, I am!" you hug him. "We are in this together, remember?" you kiss him. “Drink!”

The scent of blood pierces his nostrils as you cut your wrist. He grazes in your skin and the divine essence gushes down his throat. 

You are here.

You are back.

You are real.

He pulls away feeling how his wounds slowly heal. “I am sorry,” he mutters.

You kiss his bruised lips. “Well, it did hurt. We need to find your clothes and weapons.”

**

Astarion collapses on the stone floor and weeps. He weeps two centuries taken away from him, his memory, his mind, his soul. His beating heart. He mourns his innocence, his body and his cries echo through the chambers.

Soft hands caress his shoulders. “I am here, I am here with you. You did the right thing.”

“It is all over, isn’t it?” he sniffs.

“Yes, love,” you kiss his cheek. “It’s over.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

[thatacotargirl]

Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)

How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)

Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!

Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!

Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)

To the Ends of the Earth

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.

Life had, truthfully, never been better.

Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!

At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.

"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.

"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!

Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.

"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.

"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.

"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.

"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".

You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.

-

The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.

"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.

When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.

"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".

"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.

"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.

"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.

After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.

You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.

"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.

Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.

"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.

"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.

"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.

"I ruined your bed".

Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.

"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."

He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.

"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.

After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.

"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".

You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.

"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.

After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.

"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.

"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.

"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.

You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. ii

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3 k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : happy valentine's <3

It had been two months since the night you were intimate with Wooyoung and it was still suffocating to think about.

It hurts a lot actually. But you can't let your sadness take over you, especially when Wooyoung hasn't shown any concrete signs that you should be worried other than your feelings. So you kept it to yourself, you kept your anxiety in and with every trip and team dinner or client meeting, you convinced yourself that he was doing what he said he was doing no matter how nauseated it made you feel. The stress must've gotten to you badly because the nausea was starting to become unbearable and even made you vomit almost every day. You figured it was psychosomatic but since it had affected your housework (aka Wooyoung complaining that you were up late several times, Dayoung grumbling under her breath about you not even caring to make her breakfast, and Woohyun refusing to go to kindergarten because he was worried over you).

Today started quite roughly.

"MOM!"

You barely held onto the countertop of your sink when you heard your daughter huffing from the other side of the door. The pain in your head and the discomfort from your stomach made your body sway slightly and the second round of angry knocks felt like a hammer to your head.

"Mom, seriously, I'm gonna be late!" Dayoung sighed sharply. You could just imagine the look on her face and while you love your children to bits, the way your body was practically shutting down on you, it felt like you wanted to scream back at her to give you a break. But you kept reminding yourself that you're the parent, she's an angsty teenager and you can't create a hostile environment for your youngest.

By whatever force that was working in your favour, you managed to walk yourself to the door and though your hands were cold, clammy, and trembling, you were able to open the door to see your daughter glaring at you. "S-sorry sweetie, mommy's not feeling well right now," you sighed, wiping the cold sweat off your forehead with your palm.

Dayoung hated the way you referred to yourself as if she was still a child or something and she let you know her disdain with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "If you were so against me taking the bus in the morning, you could've at least made an effort to be punctual. I had to dress Woohyun, you know that? He and his milk-drenched chin almost ruined my cardigan and uniform. How is it that I'm doing things you're supposed to? Couldn't you have gotten drunk during the weekends or something?" she sneered, oblivious that it had been a while since you touched alcohol because when you tried to have a glass the week before, you ended up throwing up for some reason. The throbbing was coming back along with annoyance and you couldn't help the sharp exhale that you let out, "Can you not be like this right now? You being disrespectful won't make me move any faster." At least Dayoung had the decency to shut her mouth but from the corner of your eyes, you could see her fists clenching. "Where's your dad anyways? He knew I was not feeling well, he could've taken you and Woohyun to school." Although you were sighing and struggling to move without keeling over, you still forced your body to cooperate, determined to prioritize your motherly duties above letting sickness take over you completely. Dayoung only leaned on the wall while texting her friend, completely aware that you had almost fallen over a couple of times as you changed into your jeans, "I don't know, Daddy seemed to be in a rush this morning. He went out like an hour earlier than usual, humming and mumbling something about meeting someone for coffee before going to the academy."

The lighthearted tone Dayoung used didn't hide the heaviness of those words. You had been rather preoccupied as a mom to really follow up on your instinct so when you heard that, you felt a chill down your spine. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder what or why you felt like that. As quick as that doubt came, you brushed the thought away as you grabbed your bag, rushed your children out the door, and loaded them into your car.

Being a parent was truly a wonder because for a moment, while focusing on your children, you felt like your body was mending itself. The headache was gone, your joints were not achy, and the bloated feeling in your stomach was relieved. Maybe it was stress, a psychosomatic symptom because you had a feeling that something was wrong with Wooyoung and because nothing did, your body directed the feeling towards your health. It's possible, the body is mysterious and things that make almost 0 sense can happen in a blink of an eye.

But once you found yourself all alone after taking Woohyun to his class, you slumped against the side of your car, clutching your head as the pain suddenly returned all at once. It was then and there that you realized that something was going on with you and you needed to get it checked out immediately.

On the way to the hospital, your mind was at war. It was plagued with scary scenarios like cancer one moment before the logical side of your brain reasoned that it could be something as simple as indigestion, acid reflux or even stomach flu. The anxiety didn't die down and you thought that at moments like this, you needed your partner, you needed your husband. Your husband who in the past had gone above and beyond to nurse you back to health even when it was just your allergy acting up. It was ironic that as you smiled and reminisced about the things your husband did for you in the past, your phone let out a long dial tone that let you know that you couldn't reach your husband for the 5th time. The anxiety bubbled up at the pit of your stomach as your fear went on automation, immediately associating Wooyoung not accepting your calls as a bad omen. One by one, your brain started ticking off possibilities such as stomach cancer, bowel obstruction, and kidney problems. Then your daughter's jabs started popping in your head, her jabs about how you drink a lot. It wasn't like you get drunk on wine twice a week like a ritual but it was never like that. You do enjoy the occasional glass but even then, it was slightly less than the amount people usually pour and it never surpassed you feeling tingly. But maybe you had accidentally subconsciously increased your intake and what you were experiencing was liver failure.

Out of all the diagnoses you were fearing, you honestly weren't expecting the doctor to tell you that you were pregnant.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, the moment the doctor revealed the diagnosis, it was like a punch to the gut and you vomited all over the ER floor. On the plus side, you no longer feel bloated.

"I can't be pregnant, there's no way. I haven't been intimate with my husband in a long while," you said after gulping down the water one of the nurses brought for you. "Blood tests are rarely wrong, ma'am," the doctor pulled her stool closer to you and sat down to look at you straight in the eyes, "When was the last time you were intimate with your husband?" It was both easy and hard for you to remember the last time you had sex with Wooyoung. You couldn't even call it making love because it wasn't. He fucked you to shut you up and left you alone like a washed-up carcass. The urge to scream and go crazy was high as it seemed like such a joke to get pregnant from that one time.

You wanted to laugh, scream, cry at how ironic the situation was. How when you tried so hard to grow your family with your husband, you were met with heartbreak. But now that things were verging on collapsing, you were suddenly blessed with a person you didn't even know you'd been waiting for. But your brain hadn't caught up to that point, still in disbelief and maybe even shock.

The doctor's voice was merely a murmur at that point. You couldn't focus, you couldn't really comprehend what she was saying because you were so deep in your thoughts, your bitter thoughts of the situation. You were worried because after what happened to your last pregnancy, it took you a long while to be okay again. There was even a period of time when Wooyoung was the only functioning parent, taking care of the role of both mom and dad while you recuperate. Of course, you weren't expecting to lose this pregnancy too. Who would do that? But the fear existed, the fear remained a part of you and as much as you want to shed it, it was so hard.

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but let your mind wander and suddenly flicker into hope. Hope that this baby will bring your husband back, bring him back to the way he was before the loss you both experienced. Hoping that his distance was because he was also waiting for this same little stranger.

"Hey, (y/n)!"

You turned around and saw Yunho jogging towards you, huffing.

When did you get out of the ER? You felt a buzz in your hand from your phone and frowned when you saw the message. When did you make an OB appointment?

Whatever the answer was, you immediately tried to shove your worries away and put on a smile, trying to appear normal or somewhat okay in front of your husband's friend.

Before you could greet him back, however, he cut you off, "I came as soon as I heard," he panted. "What?" you chuckled awkwardly, not understanding what he meant but slightly worried because you had thought someone saw you in the ER and heard what you and the doctor were talking about and informed other people. "How's Wooyoung? Was it really a heart attack? I heard he hit his head or something. Which room is he in?" It felt like you were the one who hit their head because you had no idea what Yunho was saying. You waved your hands in front of Yunho's face to stop his rants, "Whoah, Yunho, what are you talking about?" Now it was Yunho's turn to be confused. "I-I was informed by the academy's front desk that Wooyoung got hurt. They said they called Wooyoung in because he missed his special trainee class and they got information that he was hurt and that he was admitted here so I thought that he was with you."

In a flash, you turned and dashed to the information desk, Yunho hot on your tail. the both of you stayed close as you go up to the room Wooyoung was admitted in, worry evident in the way you both looked but it was definitely more prominent on you.

Once on the floor, you ran out first to the nurse's station before Yunho could even register that the elevator door had opened. Your hands accidentally slammed loudly on the hard surface of the counter, making Yunho and the nurses in the station to jump slightly in shock, "Hi, I-I'm looking for Jung Wooyoung, he was just admitted not too long ago," you were on the verge of crying because you were so worried and you felt and that you didn't even know your husband got hurt. The nurse checked her computer for a second before looking back at you, "He is on this floor but I'm afraid I can't let you visit him just yet. His wife is in there with him and considering the situation, we were instructed to let him get his rest first. Visitors are permitted once Mr Jung's doctor clears him and you will be notified by his wife." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and so did Yunho at the revelation, "That... That can't be right, I'm his wife," you said, surprising the nurse. She produced a guest sign-in form on a clipboard and muttered to herself, "I- well, there was this lady who came in with him and she told the doctor that they were in their bedroom when Mr Jung had the accident. She mentioned- I- I think she mentioned that she was his partner, s-so I just assumed she was his wife because of the ring on his finger," she meekly showed you the signature on the clipboard but it looked unfamiliar.

"Yeon Harin? That's our backup dancer," Yunho scoffed from behind you, "What's she doing here with Wooyoung?"

Dread washed over you like the water from a river in winter. The look on your face was enough to let not only the nurse who talked to you but the other nurses around know what was going on. Guilt gnawed at them when they saw your face paled and eyes glazed over as if they were the ones who committed such betrayal towards you. However, it took Yunho a moment to realize. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lingered on the name as his brain replayed the information he received. Dots connecting one by one, Yunho felt like he was being punched in the gut. "Oh fuck," he cussed under his breath, realizing what just happened. Realizing what his revelation of the identity did, "(y/n), a-"

Before he could ask if you were alright, you had pushed yourself away from the station, eye unfocused as if searching for a way to escape. "I... T-thank you... C-can, uh... Can I come back later with my hus- Wooyoung's things? W-what time is the cutoff time for visitors?" You did not notice it but your voice trembled, breaking slightly even as you tried communicating with the nurses in a voice so small, that they had to not breathe to hear you clearly. It was obvious that you were trying to hold yourself together, but it was also probably because you were processing the information. The head nurse pushed past from the back of the station and addressed you directly with a gentle, motherly smile, it was a shame you didn't see it. "Cut-off time is in 2 hours which will be at 12 pm and it will reopen at 6-8 pm. But for family members, there isn't really a cut-off time, I'll make sure Mr Jung's visitor is out of his room soon," at least someone had the decency to do what's right.

You didn't even remember if you told the nurses thank you because when your senses returned, you found yourself already walking back towards the elevator. "(y/n)? Hey, are you okay?" Yunho called out, making his presence and proximity obvious to you. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, but how could you? Your assumption was just confirmed in such a public place in a situation the same hour you found out you were pregnant in the same place you found out that your husband was hurt and you weren't there for him. Although his side piece was there and considering that he was with her when he was supposed to be at a very important class due to the account and his own ownership of account management, he must've prioritized her presence more. Yunho didn't press you for a reply though, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, he wanted to make sure he could give you what you needed which was tricky since he had no idea what to do. He too, was still processing the information and trying to make sense of things. Was his assumption even correct? Was his friend really that much of a monster? So when you hopped in the elevator, Yunho didn't know if he was supposed to let you go by yourself or jump in and drive you home. Were you even going home? Why were you even there if you didn't even know that Wooyoung was admitted?

When you finally spared Yunho a glance, the door was starting to close and with a smile that haunted him for weeks, you spoke, "Don't tell Wooyoung about this, okay?" and the door closed, leaving Yunho worried and conflicted because all he wanted to do was go into Wooyoung's room and demand an explanation but with what you said, he couldn't. Could he?

When you heard the door closed, your body slumped to the wall and you felt your legs turn to jelly. Your intuition was right, he was being unfaithful and his timing, as always, was just perfect because the day you found out the truth just had to be the same day you found out that you were pregnant with the baby he fucked into you so coldly. A wave of nausea bubbled up in your stomach and your chest burned. The moment the door of the elevator opened, you ran out and your legs took you to the parking lot where you vomited out the bile that was probably the physical form of your feeling. Though the pressure was relieved, you could still feel the sting and burn in your throat, the bitterness in your tongue, and the dread washing over you.

Hunched over the bushes, you found it hard to straighten up and walk. At that moment, you want everything to stop because it was too much, it was too much for you to bear to bear alone.

Mere realization was not enough because you were in denial, you wanted to believe that it was just a dream, that you were hallucinating, that your husband was not the asshole but you were for wanting him to be a monster so much that your brain had somehow warped reality and created this scenario for you to hold onto.

Honestly, you didn't know what to process first.

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[callsign-dexter]

Flu Season

Summary: Flu season hits the Bradford residence.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: sickness, vomit

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter

Masterlist

Banner done by @callsigns-haze

The flu had been going around Y/N's school and she was fortunate not to get it until late last night. When she got sick it was bad, she did have a good immune system but for some reason, she just got violently sick when a bug or the flu hit her.

It was around 3 AM when the pain and shivering started. Her stomach hurt so much that it woke her up. She knew she needed to go and get her dad or wake him up somehow but the thought of her moving herself just made her shake and tense up. She laid there for a few minutes until she finally decided to get up. When she pushed the covers everything started to ache. Just moving made her feel nauseous but she needed to push through and get to her dad. She took a few breaths and slowly sat up and her world began to spin. After a few minutes of sitting there, it stopped and she started her journey again. When she stood up on the floor her legs started to shake like a newborn foal using its legs for the first time. She slowly but surely made her way to her dad's bedroom using the wall as support. When she got there the door was open, thankfully, and she walked in, her breathing was labored if she didn't sit down soon she would surely pass out. Tim was sprawled out on the right side of the bed meaning the left side was open. Y/N crawled into the vacant spot and curled into him shaking.

It took Tim a good minute to feel the extra warmth and when he did that woke him up instantly. He opened his eyes to find his daughter curled up to him and grew confused. "Baby Girl, what's wrong?" He asked and at first, she didn't answer she was just shaking. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead and felt it was burning up. "You're burning up." He said and she nodded having registered his voice.

"I don't feel good." She said and he could hear the scratchy voice and then it was followed by a cough. He rubbed her back which soothed her. "I think I'm gonna be sick." She said looking at him with wide eyes and immediately Tim jumped into dad mode. He jumped up and then scooped his 7-year-old up took her to his conjoined bathroom and sat her down just in time for her to expel whatever she ate for supper the night before.

"Just let it all out. It's ok. You'll feel better afterward." He told her as she finished and left her dry heaving. Once she was done she collapsed into her father's chest as silent hot tears raced down her cheeks. "Feel better?" He asked and she nodded her head and then turned in his arms and cuddled into him. He reached up and flushed the toilet. "Wanna try to get some more sleep or drink something?" He asked.

"Sleep." She said and he nodded and stood up with her in his arms. "Wanna sleep with you daddy." She said and he nodded as he walked to his bed and laid her in it.

"I'll be right back." He said and she nodded. Tim walked into the kitchen to grab a bucket and headed back to his bedroom. Y/N watched his every move when he got back. "If you feel like getting sick then do so in this bucket." He said and she nodded and he sat it down on the floor beside her side of the bed. She was out like a light in an instant. Tim debated going back to sleep or just lay there with her. He went with the second option and slipped into bed on his side and sat against the headboard and turned on the TV with the volume low. After 30 minutes of nothing on he found himself drifting off.

Tim wasn't a heavy sleeper to begin with and when it came to Y/N he pretty much had trained his body to listen for her. He started this when she was just a baby and Isabel was gone a lot. They both got a restless 3 hours of sleep before he woke to the sound of her throwing up. He had at some point cuddled up with her and she was just shivering in his arms despite her being hot to the touch. He was quick to sit up and rub her back "You're ok. Let it all out." He said and his heart broke when she started to cry and dry heave. After a good 2 minutes, she stopped and flopped back into the bed exhausted. He looked over at the clock and saw that it was 6 AM. He was already awake and this was his normal time to be up. When he looked back over to his daughter she was fast asleep. He carefully got out and started his routine of getting ready for the day and he needed to call into work and her school as well as make her a doctor's appointment. When he finished he sent a text to Marina to let her know what was going on.

Tim: Hey, Y/N is sick, I'm thinking it's the flu. I'm going to try and get her a doctor's appointment soon. I don't want you sick so I'll be staying with her. I'll let you know what's going on.

In an instant he got a text back.

Marina: Oh no! Poor baby! Yes just let me know what is going on and let me know when you need me. If there is anything you need me to do let me know. I hope she feels better!

He went and checked on her and she was sound to sleep curled up near the edge of the bed. He noticed that the bucket was a little bit fuller than the time he got up and he sighed, he hated it when she was sick. He walked out and back into the kitchen to pour some coffee and call the doctor's office. It rang twice before they answered

"Thank you for calling Clearview Family Physicians. My name is Emma. How may I help you?" She asked

"Hi, my name is Tim Bradford and I'm calling on behalf of Y/N Bradford. She started throwing up at 3 AM and twice more around 6 AM and 6:30 AM. She is also hot to the touch. I know there is the flu going around but I just want to make sure that's what it is." Tim said

"I'm sorry that she's feeling under the weather. We'll certainly get her in and looked at. I have a 10 AM this morning." Emma said and Tim smiled.

"That would be perfect." He said

"Alright. I have her down for 10. We'll see you then." She said

"Thank you." Tim replied back.

"You're welcome." She said and then they hung up.

Tim looked at his phone it was only 7 AM. He figured he would let her sleep in for a little bit before trying to get her to eat or drink something. He needed to call the school next and figured they had enough time to get in and open it. He dialed their number and almost instantly they answered after he pressed call.

"Thank you for calling Clear Creek Elementary School. I'm Brenda. How may I help you?" Brenda asked

"My name is Tim Bradford and I'm calling to let you know that Y/N will not be in school today. She's come down sick." Tim said

"Oh dear. I hope she gets better soon. I'll mark her as absent." Brenda said with so much care in her voice.

"Thank you. We'll let you know what happens and when she'll be back." Tim said with a smile and taking a sip of coffee.

"Sounds great. Thank you for calling. Hope to see her soon." Brenda replied and then they both hung up.

Tim looked down at his watch it was only 8 AM. He had one more call to make but first, he needed to check on Y/N. He sat his coffee down and headed to his bedroom but when he heard the sound of vomiting he rushed to his room and was quick to his daughter’s side. "Shhhh, it's ok baby. Let it all out." He said he was amazed that she had so much left in her. When she was done she caught her breath and looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes.

"I don't like this." She said and Tim's heart broke.

"I know. But I got you a doctor's appointment at 10 AM and you won't be going to school." He said and she nodded top exhausted and that made him frown. He could see the fight wasn't there and her eyes weren't as bright. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when it gets closer to leaving. You can sleep in the car too." He said and she nodded and laid down and was out like a light. He sighed and stayed there making sure she was asleep before he got up and took the bucket to empty it and then set it down again. As he was checking on her one last time he bent down to kiss her head and felt she was burning up and then how congested she was and then she let out a cough and that made him frown. All those were new symptoms. He got up and saw that the clock only read 8:16 AM he sighed and left the room while digging his phone out and went to Grey's number and hit the contact and it rang for a minute until he picked it up.

"Officer Bradford. What pleasure do I have for you to call?" Grey asked and you could hear the chuckle in his voice.

"Hey, Y/N is sick and I'm gonna need to stay home with her. She tends to cling to me when she's sick." Tim said

"She always has, ever since she was a baby." Grey said with a chuckle. "You take all the time you need and let us know if you need something. I know everyone around here would love to help out. If you need Luna for something just let her know, she would drop everything for that little girl." Grey said and Tim smiled and it was true. When his daughter met Luna it was an instant attachment.

"Thank you, Sir." Tim said "I'll let you know if there is anything." He added.

"Good. Now go and take care of that sweet baby girl. We have it handled over here." Grey said

"I'll keep you updated. I got her an appointment at 10 AM." He said

"Good. Talk to you later and keep us updated." Grey said

"I will." Tim replied and then hung up.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't like taking off but when his daughter was this sick he would do anything for her.

When Isabel was around she never took care of Y/N when she was sick all that responsibility fell on Tim and this caused several fights. Then again fights happened because she wasn't around to take care of their daughter. It frustrated him to no end. Yes, she was in her life for 6 years but she was just there she wasn't an active parent and when Y/N tried to be interactive with Isabel she would just shoot her down and send her off to go and find Tim. Tim had watched it happen and watched her face fall and her world shatter a little bit more each time, then she would come over to Tim and he would help her or look at what she did and when Y/N wasn't looking he would just glare at his wife who wasn't even paying attention. She was always too invested in work and going undercover. Tim sighed angrily thinking about all the times he wished he had Isabel's help but she just simply abandoned them.

He looked down at his watch for what seemed like the millionth time that morning and saw that it was 9:20 AM. The doctor's office wasn't that far but he liked being early and he needed to get Y/N up and somewhat dressed. "Alright sweet girl, up we go." He said and lifted her up and that woke her up.

"Daddy?" She asked groggily.

"Hey, Baby Girl. We need to get your teeth brushed and then head to the doctor." He said and she nodded and laid on her head on his shoulder.

"My throat hurts." She said and he nodded as he walked to the bathroom and had her brush her teeth and then he let her throw one of his sweatshirts on and he grabbed her bucket and they were out the door and into the truck. She was so congested and she was coughing nonstop. She was also starting to shiver despite her being in her dad's hoodie. She had fallen asleep on the drive over. He parked in the closest spot he could find to the door and killed the engine and then got out and then got her out she was still asleep as he carried her into the doctor's office. He smiled at the receptionist and with practiced ease he held her and signed her in and then went and sat down with her in his arms as she slept. 10 minutes later and her name was being called.

"Y/N Bradford." The nurse said and he was standing up with her and walking through the door. The jostling around made her wake. "Hey, Sweetie." The nurse said and smiled and Y/N just coughed and snuggled into her father and that made her smiled. "I'm gonna take your temperature, blood pressure, pulse, height and weight." She said and Y/N nodded. Tim put her on the ground and she got her weight and height taken and she just shook like a leaf once those two things were done she was allowed to get back on her dad's lap and she gladly did so. Her temperature was taken and when it beeped the nurse took it out of her mouth "102. She does have a fever." She said and Tim nodded the last two things were taken and then they were taken to a room. Y/N coughed and sniffled and Tim just held her closer.

A few minutes later Dr. Spring walked in and smiled sadly at the sight of the little girl. "Good morning." He said and Tim smiled.

"Good morning." He replied back.

"It says here that she might have the flu. and it looks like she has a fever. Is there anything else?" Dr. Spring asked and Tim nodded.

"She also told me that her throat hurts after I got off the phone with the receptionist and she has started to cough and sound congested. She also started to shiver and when asked to stand to take her weight and height she was just shaking." Tim said and Dr. Spring nodded adding it into the notes.

"I want to run some tests." He said and Tim nodded and slowly began to wake his daughter up and she groggily woke up and the doctor introduced himself and explained everything but she didn't say anything. Her eyes weren't as bright as they had been before she was sick. "Nurse Glass will be in here soon to run the tests." He said and then walked out of the room.

5 minutes later Nurse Glass was walking in and began taking the samples for the tests that Dr. Spring ordered. The flu one went up her nose and she hated that and she started to cry but Tim just held her tighter and when she tried to turn her head she was met with his chest. The other was for strep and that had to be done by swabbing the back of the throat and she reluctantly opened her mouth and when the sample was gotten she started to gag and the nurse was quick to grab a bucket and Y/N threw up. After she was done the nurse threw it away and then walked out.

A few minutes later the doctor was walking back in "It looks like she has the flu, strep, and a sinus infection." He said "I'm gonna get her started on some antibiotics." He said and Tim nodded and then they were free to leave. He carried her out and she was out like a light on his shoulder. He said bye to the receptionist and he was heading to the pharmacy to pick up her meds. Once they were picked up they were heading home and he was parking in the driveway and walking into the house with her. He laid her on the couch and let her sleep.

Tim got her medicine out and read the directions and got some Gatorade out that he had for when he worked out. He walked over to her and woke her up and had her take her medicine and of course she protested but he was quick to let her wash it down with the Gatorade and then she was out like a light again with the TV on low. He made himself busy around the house while still checking on her. "Daddy?" She called out and he was rushing to her from the laundry room.

"Yes, Baby Girl?" Tim asked

"I'm hungry." She said and that made him smile because that was a good sign.

"You wanna try to eat some crackers?" He asked and she nodded. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed them and then headed back. He sat down and opened them and gave her the package and she began to eat slowly. She was keeping them down and the was great. He also had grabbed the thermometer and he checked her temperature and it read about the same. He watched her eyes droop and then she was back to sleep snuggling into her father. He let everyone know what was going on.

This had gone on for serval days and on the 4th day her fever broke and she was back to playing a little bit. She was still congested but her throat didn't hurt anymore and she was still coughing. Her eyes were starting to brighten back up and that made Tim smile.

On the 7th day she was back to her old self and the antibiotics were done and she was no longer congested and her eyes were bright. It was a Wednesday so she was cleared to go back to school with her doctor's note. He watched her skip off into the school and he smiled he was so happy to have his little girl back. Once she was safe inside he started his drive to work, he hated taking time off but if it was to take of his little girl then so be it. When he arrived he was asked how she was and he smiled and told them that she was better and that she went back to school and was back to her old self. Everyone was happy about that now she could get back to her shenanigans, like scaring the living daylights out of Officer Smitty and conning him into doing stuff because he was slightly terrified of her.

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[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (19)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: mention of sex, pregnancy and giving birth, fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

_____

Lady Stark woke up in her husband's bed in the Red Keep, feeling a strange, unpleasant pain. She sat up, trying to catch her breath. Aemond woke up, asked her sleepily what had happened. She got up quickly and ran to the table, grabbed the bowl and vomited. Aemond, terrified, immediately called the maester, fearing that someone had poisoned her.

Aemond waited impatiently beside the bed for the maester to examine her. The man looked at him.

"My Prince, I would like to ask you to wait outside for a moment." He said calmly. Aemond frowned.

"No. What does that even mean? Do you know what's wrong with my wife or not?" He said angrily at his impertinence.

"My dragon." His wife looked at him disapprovingly. He pursed his lips, turned and left without a word. Lady Stark and the maester were left alone.

"My Lady, I will have to touch your breasts." He said and slipped his hand gently under her nightgown. She shuddered, but let him do it, turning her face the other way, embarrassed.

"Have you bleed this month, my Lady?" He asked calmly, taking his hand out and looking at it expectantly. Lady Stark pursed her lips.

"No. But it has happened in the past that my bleeding has been delayed." She said softly. The man nodded and asked the servant to lead Prince Aemond back. He stared at him, angry and scared, waiting for an explanation.

"Your wife is expecting your child, my prince."

***

The whole Red Keep received the news with great joy. Alicent immediately came to congratulate her as soon as one of her servants reported what had happened. She thought Lady Stark had trouble getting pregnant and was glad her prayers had been answered.

The truth was, it wasn't because of the prayers. When they were in Harrenhal, he had come inside her, even though those weren't the days he could do it. He'd done it before, sometimes, during their great passions, but usually she bled every month anyway. This time it was different.

That day, he practiced sword fighting alone all day, striking the wooden opponent with great ferocity. He thought that the gods had sent him his wife only to mock him, to take everything from him again and leave him even more crippled for the rest of his life. Even his mother, seeing how he approached the matter, could not reason with him.

He was not like his father. He wouldn't cut open her womb to take out his offspring. But even if he didn't, they'd both die anyway. The thought of her, pale, dead in a pool of her own blood, haunted him and drove him to despair. He wanted to scream.

When he returned to his chamber, he asked for a hot bath and ordered that no one should disturb him. He stepped into the still-steaming water, felt his skin burn and his muscles relaxed momentarily. He rested his head against the back of the tub and stared at the ceiling. He pursed his lips as he heard the door to his chamber open.

"I said do not disturb me." He spoke coldly, but no voice answered him. He heard the door close and then the sound of clothes being removed. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his wife was undressing. The sight of her naked body, which constantly gave him so much pleasure, made him hard involuntarily.

"May I join you, my dragon?" She asked quietly, looking at him calmly and proudly. Aemond swallowed and grunted approval. Lady Stark approached the tub lightly. For a long time she was no longer ashamed of her nakedness in front of him and did not cover herself, allowing him to enjoy the beautiful view of her naked skin.

Aemond watched her as she put her foot in the water and sat down with her back to him, leaning against his chest. She felt his hard manhood press against her, throbbing. But she knew she wasn't in the mood for their games right now. She wrapped his arms around herself tightly, his lips involuntarily kissing her shoulder and neck.

"Not too hot?" He asked softly, placing wet and tender kisses on her skin. Lady Stark leaned back with a contented sigh, giving him better access.

"No, my husband. I love our hot baths, you know that." She said and he grunted contentedly as he ran his tongue over her neck. She shivered as he did so. She felt his nose pressed against her hair. They were silent for a moment, only the soft splash of water caused by their slightest movement around them.

"Forgive me." He said finally, he felt his throat tighten. Y/N gave him a pained look, turned to him and touched his cheek.

"I want this child, husband. Holding Helaena's children in my arms, seeing you carry them and play with them, I felt that I wanted this for us. I want to hold our child in my hands, give you an offspring and heir to your entire legacy. If we both choose to do so, we may not have any more children." She said confidently, placing her hand on his chest. Aemond took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

He didn't want to admit it, but as he watched Lady Stark cradle his nephew, he thought about what it would be like to hold his own child in his arms. What would it be like if he could teach his son or daughter the Old Valryian language, choose a dragon egg for them. He ran away from these thoughts, but they kept coming back to him.

After a few days, Aemond slowly came to accept that there was no going back. He entered the chamber of his wife, who gave him a surprised look, thinking that he should be at the king's council. Aemond held in his hand the dragon egg he had personally chosen for his child.

***

After the morning sickness that bothered Lady Stark in the first month of pregnancy, these unpleasant ailments stopped. Slowly, her pregnant belly began to show, so finally the ladies and lords of the keep gave her a break, ending the rumors that she could not have children.

Aemond was surprised to find that his pregnant wife was even more insatiable than before. During their walk in the garden, she would drag him into the bushes, pull her dress up and beg him to fuck her. Helpless against her charm, he never refused her, coming inside her with delight.

Lady Stark began to eat fruits in huge quantities and at all hours of the day. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and start eating an apple, telling her sleepy husband that she couldn't stand it until morning, she wanted it so badly. She also ate plenty of plums, strawberries, and peaches, anything sweet, crunchy, and wet that made her hungry.

Her husband made her happy by bringing oranges for her from distant lands, which she loved so much. They were juiced for her, which she often drank instead of wine on dinner.

Aemond was very protective and condescending, and he would be the happiest men in Westeros if his wife lay in bed all the time and rested. He got mad when he saw her shooting arrows in the yard, but she explained to him every time that if she wanted to bring his child into the world, she had to have strong muscles and keep training.

He allowed her to be physically active, but he accompanied her every time. Slowly, items for the child began to be brought to his wife's chamber - a cot, toys, robes. Aemond was getting used to his new reality and tought he's about to become a father. One night, lying with his wife, stroking her slightly rounded belly, he asked her if she thought it was going to be a girl or a boy.

"A boy." She said without hesitation.

***

Throughout the keep there was anticipation of the impending denouement and the birth of the prince and Lady Stark's child. Y/N took a lot of cool baths, because with such a warm climate, the heat was unbearable for her. Her ankles ached and swelled terribly, which her husband tenderly massaged each evening, as did her back and shoulders.

Their baby was very active and constantly kicked her. It stopped when Aemond pressed his head to her stomach and hugged her. He would fall asleep like that sometimes while his wife was stroking his hair in the meantime.

Although the maester's instructions were different, they couldn't help but get physically close. It always started with them rubbing against each other and panting as they lay on their side with her back pressed against his chest.

Her husband's hand found hers wet and suffering cunt, clenching at his every touch. It always ended up with Aemond fingering her entrance, shoving his cock inside her, saying he wouldn't go all the way in, that he would only stay in her for a while, and then he would fuck her with all his strenght, unable to stop himself, to her and his delight.

Although Lady Stark felt like she was now carrying a huge barrel in front of her body, her husband thought she looked as beautiful pregnant as before. Maternity dresses beautifully emphasized her large belly and made it easier for her to move. She was no longer able to shoot bows, but went for walks every day, unable to sit still.

Everyone was surprised to hear of Lord Corlys Valeryon's likely death at sea. It turned out that his brother, Vaemond Valeryon, and Aemond's nephew, Lucerys Valeryon, will fight for the right to the Driftmark.

Lady Stark knew that Lucerys had taken her husband's eye. Her husband himself told her this story early in their marriage, even though she didn't ask him. Apparently, he didn't want her to hear about it from rumors, but from him.

It was then that he told her that the dragon could not be stolen, only that it had to be tamed. He did it first, denying Leana Velaryon's daughters the ability to inherit and tame her mother's dragon.

She hadn't told him that, but if she were Leana's daughters, she'd be furious too. But she knew that the past could not be changed, that her husband had had a difficult childhood, and that the loss of an eye only plunged him further into the darkness. She knew he needed her endless and unquestioning support and devotion.

Veamond Velaryon and Luke and his family came to Red Keep to present their case to the king. Lady Stark was able to see Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne for the first time in her life. After Lord Veamond's statement, she began to present her son's case on his behalf. Y/N thought she was a beautiful woman, her confidence and way of speaking impressed her.

She stared in shock and clutched her pregnant belly as Veamond shouted that her children were bastards and she was a whore. She felt everyone froze, her heart pounding like crazy. She screamed as she suddenly saw Veamon's head hit the ground and the rest of his body hit the floor. Daemon Targaryen was standing over him, a pleased expression on his face.

"He can keep his tongue."

Aemond watched this with a smile and involuntary appreciation for his uncle, which was why he didn't see his wife cringe in pain at first, unable to utter a sound. He looked at her in horror as she fell to the floor, all eyes suddenly turned in her direction. He knelt beside her, touching her cheek, terrified, she was panting heavily, feeling a wave of water run down between her thighs.

"Beloved wife, what's happened?" He asked, seeing her pale face, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Aemond, the baby is coming out."

***

Aemond immediately carried his wife to her chamber. His mother and Helaena told him to leave. To his surprise, as he left, pale and terrified, princess Rhaenyra, Beala, and Rhaena entered, closing the door behind them.

Aemond went to the window, leaning against the stone parapet and lowering his head. He heard his wife's muffled groans of pain and pressed his lips together, feeling everything tighten within him. Daemon walked over to him, seeing what he was going through, and looked down at him.

"Women are much stronger than men, nephew."

Meanwhile, inside, Beala and Helaena helped Lady Stark strip down to her nightgown. She felt very strong contractions and once in a while moaned in pain, breathing rapidly. She felt her heart pounding, she was afraid and trembling all over. Alicent had the pillows raised high on her bed for her. Rhaenyra walked over to her and put her arm around her.

"Do not be afraid. Walk a little. It'll speed things up. Breathe deeply." She said, circling the room with her, breathing with her, reassuring her. Y/N thought she needed any motherly care and support and immediately felt her hand tighten around her waist.

"We'll get through this together, easy." Said the princess, her voice firm and composed, just what she needed now, when she was all panicked. Alicent watched this scene with tenderness, herself full of emotions.

Lady Stark screamed loudly in surprise, feeling the contraction stronger than before, she sobbed softly, but felt that the baby did not move.

"Tell me if you want to lie down. Breathe, breathe." Rhaenrya spoke, holding her hand tightly, his arm still around hers. Lady Stark fell to her knees and sobbed as another brutal spasm ran through her body. She had never felt such pain in her life before, she knew it was close.

"Lie down, come on." Rhaenyra said, helping her up. Y/N lay down breathing heavily, Rhaenyra adjusted the pillows behind her back so she could be in a semi-sitting position. The midwife spread her legs apart to see what was going on.

"Start pushing, my Lady, when I tell you." She said looking at her. "Now, my Lady! Push!”

Lady Stark squeezed her eyes shut and cried out with the effort, trying with all her might to dislodge the child. She threw her head back, Rhaenyra brushed her hair away from her sweaty face, squeezing her hand tightly.

"Very well, sweet girl, you're doing great." She said in a reassuring, firm voice that calmed her.

She felt her whole thighs tremble with fear, tears of great exertion flowed down her cheeks, she was afraid she was going to die, she wanted her mother to be with her. She gripped her hand tighter and screamed loudly as the midwife ordered her to push again. She felt the baby inside her move.

She threw back her head, the princess told her to breathe deeply with her whole chest, she showed her how to do it, and they breathed together. Helaena took a bowl of cold water, put a cloth inside and then placed it on her forehead, giving her a sudden feeling of temporary relief.

"You're doing great, my Lady, you'll be fine, just a little longer." She said reassuringly, Beala sat next to her and fanned her with a fan to keep her cool on this hot day.

"Push, my Lady, now!" Said the midwife. Lady Stark pursed her lips, gathering herself and began to push hard, a loud moan of despair escaped her lips. She threw her head back on the pillow and shook her head.

"I don't have the strength, he doesn't want to leave." She sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut, tears flowing from her eyes and she couldn't see anything anymore. Rhaenyra kissed her hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Just a little longer, hold on, you'll be fine." She said it with conviction and emphasis, as if she was trying to convince herself that it was true.

"My Lady, push!" Said the midwife. Lady Stark clenched her fists with the last of her strength and screamed loudly, pushing with all her might, but again she felt nothing. She sobbed loudly, panicking, unable to calm down.

"Aemond!" She screamed loudly and wept, Rheanyra combed her hair, trying to calm her down. She suddenly heard the door open.

She saw her terrified husband standing in the doorway, all pale, his eye red as if he were crying too. He just stared for a moment, frightened by the sight that had been haunting him for months. He approached her from the other side of the bed and knelt beside her, taking her sweaty hand, which he began to kiss.

"Don't leave me." He whispered helplessly, his voice breaking. The sight made her, when the midwife told her to push again, squeeze her eyes shut and do it with all her might, screaming loudly and sobbing.

She thought that she would not give the gods satisfaction, that she would not give herself to the Stranger, that she would survive. She pushed again and again, feeling like she was making the most titanic effort of her life. Aemond stared at her in horror mixed with admiration, his face glued to her clenched hand.

"My Lady, I can see the head, don't stop! Now! Push!” Lady Stark screamed loudly and lingeringly, sobbing in pain, feeling her baby literally tearing her flesh as it came out of her, and then she was relieved when something suddenly slipped out of her.

She heard soft whimpers and cries. She laughed in disbelief, panting and sobbing at the same time as she saw her baby, all red with blood, squirm in the midwife's arms.

"Congratulations, my lady. You gave birth to a healthy prince."

_____

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @namoreno @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary @a-beaverhausen @avadakadabra93 @hangesprofessionalashholder @lilostif16 @sirenangelroyal @aonungs-tsahik @xmaiaaa @writingaboutlove1998

[i9messi]

Can you do one of Messi’s daughter and Gabi babysit her brothers and gavi being scared because of what ciro said last time “I don’t want you to have a boyfriend” and he really wants his girlfriends brothers to like him? And can you have the boys be overprotective?

(I loved the idea, thank you so much.) Part one here

The Messi boys — Pablo Gavi

Word count — 928

gavi's masterlist

They’re just kids, that’s what you said to Gavi while you were trying to calm him down on the way to your parents' house. Your dad and your mom had gone on a date and asked you if you could take care of your brothers while they were gone. You undoubtedly accepted, you loved your siblings and you wanted to spend your time with them. Gavi knew how much you loved them, so he also wanted to be helpful and offered to go with you. However, for the Messi boys, the presence of your boyfriend wasn't a good idea.

Ciro was the least pleased that your boyfriend was there. Last time he saw Gavi, he was a little reluctant about you having a boyfriend. As soon as he had seen Pablo arrive he started asking him questions. You had laughed and tried to distract him while playing Uno. Gavi really tried to make the kids feel comfortable with him, because he loved you with all his heart and wanted to get along with the children.

But your brothers were too overprotective. In the moment Gavi tried to reach out to hold your hand, Ciro did not hesitate to separate your holding hands. The kid was angry and jealous, you were his sister.

"Don’t touch her!"

"We just wanted to hold hands, he’s my boyfriend, you know. It’s a thing couples do." you explained to the youngest, trying to calm the situation.

"Gross. I hate the displays of love." said your other brother, Mateo, imitating that he was vomiting.

"I dislike Gavi, I don’t like him." Ciro had no shame in telling you what he thought about the footballer.

"Ciro!"

In a few seconds your brothers had brought to light the problems they had with your boyfriend and it was no surprise. You had talked to your mom about that, after the visit you had made the last time. As much as you had tried to make them understand that you were an adult, they continued with their overprotection.

You looked at Gavi, who looked at Ciro without saying anything. When he felt the weight of your look you tried to tell him to take things slow, the children could be little devils when they wanted and they were testing him. In fact, they had tested him since he had arrived, asking him questions and trying to anger him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not be rude with Gavi?" You played the role of the big sister again.

The children were silent and they didn't say anything more to make things worse. A while later, you lost the game and as you urgently needed to go to the bathroom, you made the decision to leave your three brothers alone with your boyfriend. Maybe it was a bad idea, after the tension that was felt in the environment. You tried not to take long, but when you arrived, you heard them whispering. You hid behind the door so they couldn’t see you or notice you.

"Listen to us carefully, Spanish boy. We don’t like you and we don't want you to date our sister." Ciro said, speaking as if he were a film mercenary.

"Better tell us why we should give you a chance," Thiago proposed, in a much more gentle tone.

"Sorry, what?"

"Don’t make me repeat myself. You don’t want me wasting time with words."

God, you imagined your boyfriend’s scared face. You had convinced him that there was nothing to worry about, but now you doubted your own words. Gavi didn’t take long to talk, and when he did, he spoke very seriously and fearlessly.

"I love your big sister and want to make her happy every day of my life. I know she deserves the best and probably deserves a better guy than me— I was lucky that she decided to be my girlfriend. I don't imagine a life without her, she is my happiness and my everything. I want to give her everything."

There was silence, until Thiago spoke. "We’ll give you a chance, if you do something we don’t like we won’t hesitate to make your life miserable."

"Believe it, we’ll make your life miserable and you won’t like it." added Ciro.

"I understand, I promise I won't do anything if you decide to make my life miserable. I love your sister and I accept the consequences of my actions."

Gosh, Pablo was also a little dramatic. Between your brothers acting like mercenaries and Pablo being a Romeo, the whole scene made you laugh. Your heart melted too, his declaration of love was really cute.

"Okay, so we have a deal. Now you have to convince her to let us eat ice cream before bed." Ciro blackmailed Gavi and you had a hard time not laughing.

"Está bien, I’ll help you."

You waited until they finished their talk and you went back to them. You sat back at the table, while you watched them finish playing Uno. When the boys went to get something in their rooms, you took the time to talk to your boyfriend.

"Please... never leave me with them again. They’re really scary."

You smiled at him and whispered, "I forgot to tell you, my dad is an ordinary human being, but my brothers… they are devils."

Gavi left a kiss on your lips before your brothers came back and probably forced you to separate.

"You should let them eat ice cream, by the way." He told you in a whisper, still afraid of the kids.

[maikissed]

being a girl in love

Kylian Mbappé x reader drabble, au

angst

i've literally wrote this in an hour, idk what this is, the rainy weather made me feel like this. sorry for any typos, kisses

She readjusted her skirt feeling the coldness of the seat making her skin grow numb. The girls kept giggling and rattling about some trivial things but she didn’t keep her mind on the conversation as she sat immensely focused on the boys playing football on the pitch in front of them. She acted interested in the game but kept her eyes specifically on one of them. The sight of him made her feel a tad warmer. She loved watching him play, no doubt he was the best of them.

“Oi, Kylian!” she heard one of the boys shout as he thrown his hands in the air in frustration.

She smiled when he scored. He was smart on the pitch and fast, obviously, and it made the rest of them helpless and furious. They simply couldn’t keep up with him. He’ll become a star one day, that she knew for sure.

She heard him laugh as he celebrated. For a second she thought he looked her way.

“He’s something else” a comment caught her attention and so she turned her head “And he’s very skilled, not only with his legs but also with his fingers”

She scrunched her eyebrows with confusion as she listened to her friends. Laura gasped and giggled shortly after, pulling on Lea’s arm “And you said nothing?! Did you fuck him?”

“It was this weekend, at Theo’s party, he made me come with his fingers”

She shivered and went rigid then, trying to comprehend if she heard right. She blinked fast, wondering how this unexpected information made her feel, but she felt cold back again and squished her thighs together at the thought of him with someone being so intimate. Not in excitation but repulsion. It made her slightly dizzy and uncomfortable.

“God, I want details!” Elisa jumped on her seat and it made her stand up abruptly, but the girls didn’t seem to notice her skittish reaction.

On shaky legs she strutted down the stairs to stand by the gates, closer to the players. He noticed her and smiled but she didn’t return it. The unwanted vision kept replaying itself in her mind and she felt like she might vomit any second. Why would she feel this way if she haven’t any right to this boy? Matter of fact despite the all-consuming affection she felt for him, she sensed that he never felt nor will ever feel the same for her. He treated her more like a little sister, he was friends with her older brothers after all, so it all kept on going for some time now - little sister and big brother. He would never touch her the way she’d want him to. What a pity, what a heart-breaking realisation.

“Hi” he approached her, breathing heavily.

He seemed hot, covered in sweat and she stood there almost freezing. Of course he’s been warmed up because of the game, she looked down his muscular arm. What should she do to make him look at her different? Wear shorter skirts? Paint her nails? Put some red lipstick on her lips? Fuck other guys? Maybe the last one will do, since he haven’t even noticed her becoming a woman yet, or so she thought. But she made an invisible note in her mind.

“Congratulations” she muttered with her hands crossed on her chest, her gaze hard and sharp.

What exactly did she congratulate him on? She wondered if her girlfriends watched them now.

He smirked at her nodding his head “Do you have any classes left?” he asked wiping his face with a towel.

“No, I’m going home” her voice emotionless.

“Wait for me? I was about to go see Nico now”

“I’m in a hurry” she murmured coldly.

“It’ll only take me 5 minutes”

“Bye, Kylian” she turned around feeling slightly embarrassed by her own behaviour.

Being a girl in love is not a privilege, it’s a curse and she wished she could rip her chest open to get rid of every organ inside her body that fluttered anytime she looked at him. Stupid and immature little girl.  

[gblogg]

Daniel gets the flu

--------

Something I wrote to stretch my fingers and get back into the feeling of writing. It's nothing special, but it's something.

Daniel had always prided himself on his strong immune system, especially given his job as a preschool teacher, constantly surrounded by sneezes, coughs, and runny noses. But today was different. He could feel it as he left work, his stomach churning uncomfortably. By the time he reached his car, he was sweating and shivering simultaneously. 

Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he fumbled for his phone and typed out a quick message to Luna.

D: Lu, I’m feeling awful. Think I caught something from the kids. I'm heading home now :(

As he started the car, his phone buzzed with her reply.

Lu: Oh no, babe. Come home quickly. I’ll be here waiting for you.

The drive home felt endless, each bump in the road exacerbating the nausea that had settled deep in his stomach. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was certain he wouldn’t make it inside without being sick.

Stumbling out of the car, Daniel made his way to the front door, fumbling with the keys. The door swung open, and Luna was there, her face a mix of concern and love.

“Baby, you look terrible,” she said, reaching out to steady him.

Daniel groaned, his face pale and clammy. “I feel worse than I look,” he admitted, barely able to keep his voice steady. “I think it’s the stomach flu.”

Luna guided him inside, her touch gentle but firm. “Let’s get you to bed,” she said, leading him towards their bedroom. But halfway down the hall, Daniel’s stomach lurched violently.

He wasn’t able to speak as he started feeling his lunch in his throat. He bolted for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he started vomiting.

The force of it made him gag and heave, his body emptying itself with a violent intensity. He gripped the edge of the toilet bowl, his knuckles white, as wave after wave of nausea wracked his body. Luna knelt beside him, rubbing his back soothingly.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it out,” she murmured, her voice calm and comforting.

Daniel retched again, a loud, guttural sound that echoed in the small bathroom. His stomach spasmed painfully, expelling its contents in a series of agonising heaves. He gasped for breath between bouts, tears streaming down his face from the effort.

“Ugh, this is horrible..” he managed to say between retches, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know, D. Just get it all out,” Luna said, continuing to rub his back. Her presence was a balm to his misery, grounding him as his body purged itself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the vomiting subsided. Daniel slumped against the cool porcelain of the toilet, completely spent. Luna handed him a damp washcloth, and he wiped his face with a shaky hand.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling weak and lightheaded. 

Luna smiled softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Which one of them gave you this now? Don’t tell me it was Megan. Poor thing is always sick.”

Daniel chuckled weakly, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “I honestly don’t know which one it was this time,” He burped lightly against his fist, grimacing slightly.

She helped him to his feet, guiding him to the sink where he rinsed his mouth out. “Straight to bed with you,” she said again, and this time, he didn’t resist.

Once in the bedroom, Luna tucked him in, placing a trash can beside the bed just in case. “Do you need anything? Water? Ginger ale?”

“Just you,” he said, reaching out for her hand.

She climbed into bed beside him, wrapping her arms around him. “Alright, alright. Try to rest.”

Daniel closed his eyes, comforted by her warmth and presence. But sleep was elusive. The nausea, while less intense, still simmered in his stomach, and every so often he’d moan softly in discomfort.

“I really hope this is a 24-hour bug,” he said after a while, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I hope so too” she added, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his back. She kissed his forehead, whispering. “Okay, go to sleep”

Daniel smiled, “Did you just shush me?” Luna giggled at that and hugged him tighter. 

They lay together in silence for a while, the room dark and quiet except for the occasional groan from Daniel as his stomach continued to churn. Luna’s presence was a constant comfort, and she loved a steady anchor in the storm of his illness.

Just as he was starting to drift off, another wave of nausea hit, and he bolted upright, reaching for the trash can. Luna was right there with him, rubbing his back as he retched again, his body convulsing with the effort.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it out,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm to his misery.

He heaved again, his stomach empty but still spasming painfully. When it finally subsided, he collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent. “Fuck..” he muttered.

Hours passed in a blur of nausea and brief moments of fitful sleep. Luna’s unwavering presence made the ordeal a little more bearable, and as the night wore on, he began to feel a glimmer of hope that the worst was behind him.

By the early hours of the morning, the nausea had finally started to subside. Daniel lay in bed, exhausted but grateful for Luna’s care. “Thank you, Lu,” he said, his voice hoarse from vomiting. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she replied, snuggling close to him. “Now, try to get some rest. We’ll get you feeling better soon.”

Daniel nodded, closing his eyes as he let himself relax into the comfort of her embrace. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Luna by his side, someone who loved him unconditionally, no matter what. 

[ato-catto]

Requested by: @justmewoo

What If I'm Not Enough?

Piccolo x reader

Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth/sadness/turmoil

You looked beautiful, holding baby Bulla to your chest while you and Bulmaz  gushed over the newborn with the other Z fighter wives.

Piccolo crossed his arms against his chest in an attempt to subdue the growing feeling in his chest, watching you gently press a bottle nib into the mewling infants mouth, bouncing and shushing her- lulling her into a sleepy feed.

His dark pupils widened slightly, his heart thumping just a little harder. You looked so ... happy.

Come to think of it, you were the right age for motherhood. Not that he could give it to you. Piccolo glowered slightly, turning away from you in a mixture of sadness and shame.

You two could never have a family. Namekians were not built that way- to reproduce with a woman.

Gohan noticed Piccolos dark look and hunched shoulders and smiled at him.

"What's up, Mister Piccolo? You look like someone just rained on your parade!"

Piccolo let out a slow sigh. "I'm fine." He lied. He felt awful.

Gohan frowned, and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Sympathetic to what he didn't know-- yet. "Piccolo you look miserable. What is it? You can tell me, ya know?"

Piccolo turned away and looked out at the horizon over Capsule Corps pools. "She looks so happy with the baby. And I can't give her that." He said, his voice deep and quiet.

Gohan glanced over at you, watching you play with baby Bulla, smiling happily while you shook a little silver rattle. He sighed.

"Ah. I'm sorry Piccolo. I guess that wouldn't be on the cards for you guys, huh?"

Piccolo tensed and his frown got deeper, his arms tightening across his chest. "Clearly not."

Gohan didn't know what exactly to say- he couldn't relate to the predicament at all, watching Pan fly about with her Uncle Goten and Trunks. "Maybe you guys could consider adoption? Or, oh! You could vomit up an egg..? Apparently Namekians do that."

Piccolo grimaced. "I would rather not." He grumbled, his antennae drooping. "It wouldn't be our baby. It would just be mine."

Gohan nodded. "True. I'm sorry Piccolo. I don't know what to say."

Piccolo didnt need him to say anything. His mind was already made; Slowly pull away from you until you found another human you could copulate with.

Even if it broke his heart- he wanted you happy.

And you seemed happiest around children and babies. Your maternal instincts shone out from within you like a whole new type of power. You looked the part, acted the part.. it was destroying him to see you go without a family.

Every time you came to visit him over the next few weeks, he pulled away from you everytime you tried to fully wrap your arms around him to embrace him. Confused, you kept to yourself the rest of the week, thinking perhaps he didn't want to be touched at the moment.

Before you left one night, you turned to kiss him goodbye but was met with a stony glare. "Piccolo, what is with you at the moment?"

Piccolo just turned away, once again crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "Nothing. I'm not acting any differently than I normally do." He grunted, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"You have kissed me in almost two weeks, and everytime I try to even touch you- you pull away like I have some awful disease."

He didn't respond, he just turned and walked into his home, letting the door click shut behind him. What you took as a purely rude and hateful response was actually the big stoic Namekian hiding the welling tears threatening to spill.

He had hated every second of the last few weeks, but in his eyes it was for the greater good.

But he loved you so much it was ripping him apart.

You went home, a cloud of thunder hanging over your head . You sobbed into your pillow when you tried to sleep, your soul starved of the love you had been so used to for the past three or so years. You missed the Namekians touch, and murmered compliments and gentle kisses.

Did he not love you anymore? Had he grown tired of you?

The relationship was not sexless- despite Piccolos absence of a manhood. There was a passion there that was irrefutable. It wasnt the absence of passion whatsoever.

Perhaps... perhaps it was because you weren't biologically compatible.  He could give you a baby and you couldn't bore him a family.

The realisation hit you in the gut- this had started the day he saw you with Bulmas new baby girl.

You tore out of bed and shoved on your shoes, running to his home across pitch black plains, only lit by moonlight. "Piccolo!" You cried, his door opening before you reached it. His onyx eyes sparkled in the silver moonlight, his body language still guarded.

"What are you doing here so late? It's not safe at night-" he began, staring down at you with forced indifference.

"Piccolo- we don't need a baby to be happy. I love you- us! - just the way we are. If we want a family we can go through other means," hot tears stung your cheeks and you pleaded before him, watching his scowl melt away from his face. "But please! Don't leave me! I need you."

Piccolo dropped to his knees and hugged you against him so hard you felt your spine pop in several places. He let out a single huffed sob and buried his pointed nose into your hair.

"I'm stupid." He growled, shaky breaths making his shoulders tremble. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry."

You wrap your arms around his neck. You had missed this closeness so much. "You were stupid. Don't ever think I would give you up for anything else. You are perfect just the way you are and I wouldn't change you for the world."

"But you looked so happy with Bulla.. and you always talk about being a mother." Piccolo pulled back to swipe your tears away with his thumbs.

"I also talk about being a chef." You giggled through tears. "It doesn't mean we have to do it now, right away, or even ever."

He watched your smile before it spread to him, his little fangs poking over his lip. "You're right. You're always right, somehow." Leaning forward, he placed his lips on yours, kissing you with the power of two weeks of missed kisses.

After all, there was always the dragon balls. ;)

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3394

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

I don't think I mentioned this before but I'm never going to specify whether reader is full/half/adopted siblings with Steve, so she can be of any race/ethnicity. I'll try my best to be inclusive/vague in my descriptions.

Starting this week, I'm going to be updating this fic weekly (every Monday).

Warnings for shitty parents, pregnancy, vomiting (a lot), grief, depression, reader being kinda mean to steve even tho he's a good boy, reader not taking care of her hair (or herself generally), bad relationship with food, nested flashbacks

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~ FOUR MONTHS EARLIER ~

A sharp tapping on your bedroom door roused you from sleep. You sat up suddenly, dazed and confused. Your bed was cold. You grimaced.

In the time since you’d learnt about Hawkins’ dark underside, you had gotten used to the nightmares.  You could handle them. What you weren’t prepared for were the other kind of dreams.

When you slept, Eddie was alive. He would lounge beside you in your bed, drawing long forgotten laughter from deep inside you. He would hold you, kiss you, tell you that he adored you. Touch you in ways that you never wanted anyone else to touch you.

Awake, you felt hollow.

When Steve called your name through the door, you tried to say, “come in,” as naturally as possible, but your throat was tight.

He opened the door, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “Hey. How are you feeling this morning?”

Now that was a question. How were you feeling this morning?

You took a quick inventory: your throat hurt; your eyes were crusty and sore from crying; you hadn’t showered in days so you felt sweaty and gross.

“I’m okay,” you said, and Steve frowned.

“I thought I could make pancakes?” he suggested. Admittedly, pancakes did sound good. “Why don’t you have a shower and I’ll make breakfast, and then we can go for a walk?”

You tried not to groan. Steve had been doing this since your parents left. You knew he was only doing it because he cared, but right now you bristled against even the gentlest suggestion that you should eat, or bathe, or exercise. You knew that Steve wasn’t judging you – you knew that – but hearing the words out loud still hurt.

But he was just trying to help you. You bit back your harsh response and nodded instead.

“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

A smile broke across his face. “Great!” he said, as if the thought of you doing the bare minimum was actually impressive.

You hated all of this. Steve was treating you like you were made of glass. The two of you had always good-naturedly bickered at each other, poking and prodding and making sarcastic jabs, and now the only mode he seemed capable of was gentle, earnest compassion. It sucked.

Still, you kept your thoughts to yourself as you went into your bathroom and turned on the shower. It was a quick wash, dragging soap over your body and continuing to ignore the growing problem of your hair. When you were done, you brushed your teeth quickly and then dressed in clean(ish) sweatpants and a t-shirt.

You put your hair up and out of the way, and then covered it with your hood, trying not to think about it.

Steve was just plating up the pancakes when you made it down into the kitchen. He gave you a weak smile, which you returned even weaker.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Right.” Steve took that as his cue to not ask any more stupid questions.

Staring down at your plate of pancakes, you felt suddenly ravenous. You hadn’t been eating well. As you tucked in, you could feel Steve’s eyes on you.

You cleared your throat. “You’ve got work later, right?”

“Yeah, but not until this afternoon. Plenty of time to hang out.”

He didn’t ask you if you would be okay alone in the house. Not since you’d snapped at him for treating you like a broken doll. Steve didn’t deserve that. He was trying, and you weren’t. So you decided to offer him an olive branch.

“It’ll be nice to get out of the house,” you said, as breezily as you could. Steve’s eyes widened, but a broad smile soon followed. You looked back down at your pancakes.

*

Hawkins being Hawkins, nature walks weren’t advisable, but when Steve suggested driving into town to walk around the mall, you shot him down. You really didn’t want to be anywhere where you might run into people.

So the two of you set off on foot, hiking along the edge of the woods, never straying more than 20 feet from the road. You both knew what dangers lurked in the darkness.

As much as you hated to admit it, Steve had been right about walking making you feel better. The fresh air cut into your lungs, an ache blooming in your chest. It was better than feeling numb.

Steve cleared his throat. “I was thinking that we could do a movie night some time soon. We could invite Robin.”

“Sure,” you said, non-committally.

“Or something with the kids. It’d be nice to all get together in one place again.”

All. You grimaced at the use of the word. There were some people who were never coming back, no matter how much you wished it.

Barb. Benny. Bob Newby. Chrissy Cunningham. Even Billy, for all his faults. Not that you would ever have invited him to your house.

And of course, there was Eddie. You would never get to have a movie night with him again. He’d never crawl through your bedroom window and fall asleep by your side. You would never get to kiss him again.

You stopped in your tracks, throwing your arms out to try and keep your balance.

“What is- Oh my god.” Steve jumped back as you vomited all over the patch of earth in front of you. You swayed on your feet, so he scooted around the splash zone to get to your side and put an arm around you. “Are you alright?”

You shook your head, and then bent forward to hurl again. Steve clutched at your jacket, trying not to let you fall.

You found yourself reminded of something that happened when you were a child. Your parents had been more present then than they were now, although that was a low bar. Your general needs were taken care of by nannies more often than not, but on this occasion, your parents were taking you and Steve on vacation.

It was a long drive down to the lake house, and at six years old, your feet didn’t touch the floor when you were sitting in the back of the car.

“Mommy?” you called out to her, but she was leaning on her neck pillow, sunglasses hiding the fact that she was asleep. “Mommy!”

“Keep it down,” your dad snapped, “I don’t wanna hear your whining.” You shrank back into yourself, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What’s wrong?” Steve whispered to you. He had been staring out of the window until you’d spoken, but now his focus was on you.

“Feel sick.”

He pulled a bottle of water from his door, cracked the lid open and then handed it to you. You took a big gulp, but the water was unpleasantly warm, so you pushed it back towards him.

He must’ve seen the expression on your face, because he said, “Dad? Can we pull over? I think she’s gonna be sick.”

“We’re not gonna make it there before sunset if we keep having to stop for you damn kids. Now shut the hell up.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve whispered to you. He took your hand in his pressed his fingers against your wrist. “My teacher showed me a place where you can press to make you feel less sick.” As his clumsy, eight-year-old fingers fumbled to find the pressure point, you gripped the seat suddenly.

“Dad-” you tried to say, but before you could say anything else, you threw up all over yourself.

“Dad, she’s been sick.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, readjusting his rear-view mirror to get a look at you, and then let out a deep sigh. “We’ll stop at the next rest-stop.”

Hot tears pricked at your eyes. Embarrassed, you sniffed, trying to keep them in, but to no avail.

“Hey,” Steve murmured. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you all cleaned up and you’ll feel so much better.” You nodded weakly.

The next rest-stop, as it turned out, was very sparse, with only a restroom and a few benches. Your dad got out of the car and opened your door before you’d even had the chance to undo your seatbelt.

“You little shit,” he hissed. “You got it all over the upholstery. Do you know how much this cost?”

Bewildered, you stared back at him. “I don’t know, daddy.”

“Get out of the car.”

“What’s going on?” said your mom sleepily. She had evidently taken her sleeping pills for the drive.

“Get up,” he said to her. “You need to clean this up. Your daughter vomited all over it.”

“Why do I need to clean it up? She’s your daughter too and it’s your car.”

“I’m gonna take her to go get cleaned up,” Steve announced loudly. He helped you out of the car, snagged your backpack from the trunk and then took your hand. Your parents were still sniping at each other behind you as you walked away.

“Mom and dad are fighting because of me,” you said as he ushered you into the bathroom. There was only one stall, so you hoped no one came along and needed to use it.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Are they going to get a divorce?”

“No, sweetpea.” That comforted you a little.

With Steve’s help, you removed your soiled cardigan and t-shirt. He dropped them both into the sink to rinse them, and then wet some tissues for you so that you could wipe yourself down.

Ten minutes later, you were dressed in a clean t-shirt and sweater, and your dirty clothes were rinsed and shoved into a plastic bag. Steve got you a cold water from the vending machine, and the two of you sat in the sun on one of the benches while your mom cleaned up your seat in the car.

The memory made your heart hurt. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Now, Steve was ushering you back to the house, one hand on your shoulder to keep you steady. At least this time you hadn’t got any on your clothes. This time, though, throwing up didn’t make you feel any less sick. If anything, you felt worse.

As soon as you were through the front door, you sprinted to the downstairs bathroom and bent over the toilet, hurling up the contents of your stomach. Your knees trembled, and you sank down into a kneeling position. You could hear the creaking of floorboards outside the door, as if Steve wasn’t sure if he should come in or not.

After a moment, his footsteps retreated. Fine. Good. You had wanted to deal with this alone anyway.

But he didn’t leave you to deal with this alone. Thirty seconds later, the bathroom door swung open and he placed a bottle of water on the floor beside you.

“Hey…” He rubbed your back soothingly. Another surge of vomit had you blinking tears out of your eyes.

Without warning, Steve pulled back your hood, probably to get your hair out of the way. You flinched.

He said your name softly, and his pitying tone convinced you that he had noticed the state your hair was in. You screwed your eyes shut and threw up again.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the vomiting subsided. It had left you sweaty and cold, with a horrible taste on your mouth. You opened the bottle of water and drank some down, trying to get rid of the burning acidity in your chest.

As you got shakily to your feet, you found that Steve was still watching you. He had a sympathetic look on his face that made you want to punch him. How dare he feel sorry for you, after everything you’d been through.

You balled up your fists, your face hot with shame.

“Hey…” he said, wincing. “Please let me help you. I want to help you.”

Reluctantly, you let him.

If there was one thing Steve knew, it was hair. At his behest, you took your second shower of the day, this time taking your time to properly shampoo and condition your hair. When you exited the bathroom, you found that Steve had stripped your bed of its sheets, which were starting to get a little musty, and put on a load of laundry.

You put on a clean, dry pair of pyjamas, and found Steve downstairs, cleaning up the bathroom that you’d spent ten minutes puking in, wearing marigold gloves.

“Get comfy on the couch,” he said, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” And sure enough, he returned to you holding a whole box of hair products. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

So you did.

It took many hours, several bottles of conditioner and all sorts of other products that you’d never even heard of, but eventually, Steve managed to tackle your hair into a manageable state. You had been crying on and off – it sometimes felt like Steve was yanking your hair out of your scalp – but now you felt all cried out.

Part of you appreciated the pain. You had hardly cried since Eddie’s death. If the pain managed to break through the numbness to make you shed a few tears, that could only be a good thing.

More than once, you suggested cutting it all off. Your brother adamantly refused.

When he was done, Steve looked exceedingly proud of himself. He held up a mirror like a hairdresser, showing off his handiwork. You just put your arms around him and hugged him tight.

~ PRESENT DAY ~

Eddie couldn’t help but steal glances at you. You were sitting in an armchair, a big, cosy dressing gown hiding your baby bump, clutching a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

Making the hot chocolate had been a struggle, since Steve wouldn’t leave Eddie alone with you. It was like the riddle where you have to get a fox, a chicken and a bag of grain across a river and you can’t leave the fox with the chicken or the chicken with the grain.

Eddie supposed that made him the fox. He balked at the idea that he could ever hurt you. Steve had never trusted him before, but they had found an uneasy truce. Now, that was all out of the window.

Steve had made Eddie come into the kitchen with him while he made the hot chocolate, leaving you alone in the living room. In a brief concession to civility, he had offered Eddie some too, but he’d declined. He thought he might puke if he ate or drank anything right now.  

“Hop’s here,” Steve said suddenly, and sure enough, the crunch of tyres on the gravel of the driveway reached Eddie’s ears.

Eddie took the brief moment while Steve was answering the door to steal another glance at you, and found you looking back at him. He offered you a smile, but you quickly looked away.

It turned out to be not just the chief, but the entire Hopper-Byers clan. Eddie had never met Will, nor Eleven, but he’d heard plenty about them. The two young teens were wearing hoodies and shoes over their pyjamas.

He remembered Jonathan from school. Jonathan eyed him with suspicion, but he supposed he couldn’t blame him for that. Joyce barely glanced at Eddie, beelining over to you to give you a hug, which you received gratefully. Eddie knew that you’d always loved Joyce. She’d been good to you when your own mother would barely even look at you.

“Munson,” said the chief. Or not the chief. Eddie didn’t really know what Hopper’s rank was now.  Still, as a drug-dealer and general troublemaker, he had been all too familiar with the chief.

“Hop,” said Eddie, getting to his feet.

“Last I heard, you were dead.”

“I could say the same about you.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Hopper actually smiled at that. Perhaps Joyce’s influence had mellowed him out. Or so Eddie assumed, as they evidently seemed to be living together now.

“Are you a zombie?” he asked.

“Uhh, no?”

“Vampire?”

“Well, I have a certain thirst for blood, but that’s not new.” Eddie grinned, but Hopper didn’t.

“This isn’t a time for jokes, kid. Are you flayed?”

“Am I what?”

“Sit down. My daughter is going to tell us if you have any connection to Vecna.”

“W-What?”

Hop put one hand on his shoulder and shoved him back onto the couch. Eleven, whose short curly hair was tousled with sleep, perched on the edge of the coffee table. She closed her eyes.

“What’s she doing?” asked Eddie nervously. He’d heard a little about what she could do, and was mildly concerned that she might be about to snap his neck.

“She’s checking to see if there’s any trace of the Upside Down on you. If you’re a zombie, or one of Vecna’s puppets. If you’re dangerous. While she’s doing that, I’m gonna ask you some questions.”

“Maybe we should-” Steve started, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you snapped.

He swallowed nervously, but acquiesced. Eddie could feel all eyes on him. He felt awfully exposed.

“What happened to you in the Upside Down?” asked Hopper.

“I don’t�� I don’t really remember?” Eddie tried to think, but a flash of pain lanced through his brain, and he flinched. Eleven flinched too.

“What happened?” Hopper asked her, one hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Keep asking questions,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“Well?” Hopper turned to Eddie again.

“We were… we were fighting the demobats. I got overwhelmed. There were too many of them.” He winced, blinking slowly. “They were biting at me. It hurt. A lot.”

“And then?”

“I don’t remember anything else.”

“He’s telling the truth,” said Eleven, opening her eyes. “He’s not flayed. Not a zombie. Human. Alive. Something is wrong with him. But he is human.”

“‘Something’ is wrong with him?” asked the chief.

“Well, what’s new?” Eddie forced out a smile.

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. That was, until you huffed out a laugh. Eddie turned his head towards you, and found you wiping tears from your eyes.

After that, Eddie couldn’t focus on anything else. Hopper and Joyce were talking to you and Steve about what to do now. The gist of it seemed to be to keep a close eye on Eddie. Eddie wasn’t listening. He was watching the way tears kept rolling down your cheeks sporadically. Steve was tense beside you, arms folded across his chest.

“We could take Eddie home with us?” Joyce suggested. “That way we could keep an eye on him to ensure he’s safe.”

“No way,” you said. “Absolutely not. He and I have some catching up to do.”

Joyce glanced down at your baby bump, grimaced, but then nodded. “Of course.”

“If anything happens – and I mean anything – you call us, okay?” said Hopper. “But it’s four in the morning, so I’m gonna take my family home. Is that alright?”

“Fine by me,” you said, very abruptly. Then your expression softened. “Thank you for coming over. We really appreciate it.”

“Alright.” Hopper clapped Steve on the back. “You did the right thing, kid.”

You stood up to see them out. It was evidently a struggle to pull yourself to your feet, and Eddie was about to offer you a hand when Steve stepped in and helped you out.

You stepped forward and gave Joyce a hug. Then you gave one each to Eleven and Will. And then the family were retreating out the door, piling into Hop’s car and driving away.

You and Eddie and Steve were left alone. Steve was clearly fighting off a yawn.

“Steve? Can I talk to Eddie alone for a minute?” you asked.

His expression tightened. “What for?”

“Because I want to talk to him,” you snapped. “Why else?”

“Okay…” He looked from Eddie to you and back. “I’ll go and make up the guest room. Yell if you need me.”

Eddie waited until Steve’s footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. He started to speak, unsure of what he really wanted to say, but was cut off by you throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tight.

---

Notes:

When I was at university, I went through a period of being so depressed that I neglected to brush my hair for months. The more tangly it got, the worse I felt, and the less I wanted to deal with it. Eventually I went to visit my long distance bf at the time, and he asked me why I wouldn't take my hair down. With his help, I tackled it. Using a shit-ton of conditioner, he helped me brush out some of the tangles, but the stress got too much and we ended up having an argument and me having the worst panic attack I've ever had. He stayed with me until I was calm, and then he went home. I finished my hair myself, using two bottles of conditioner. The next day, it was the softest it had ever been. I never let it get that bad again.

Recently I was in hospital with a broken ankle. My family came to see me after surgery. I was so hungry, I hadn't been allowed to eat all day and I was constantly on the verge of tears. My hair was a mess. It was super tangly, so my mum brushed it for me and then plaited it so it would stay neat and not tangle. I cried the whole time because I've been pretty starved for affection.

Honestly I'm not even sure why I'm telling you all this, but it feels kinda important that you know where I'm coming from here.

Ciao.

Next Chapter

[gazsluckyhat]

One- Stallions

Phantom Pains

Masterlist

I've decided that the chapters for this will be shorter than Sarah's House. Just because Sarah's House is dark and takes a lot to write. This is gonna be way lighter in tone and if the chapter's are shorter I can get them out a bit quicker.

I've also re-wrote this chapter because I hated it. So please tell me what you think!

-Bunny

Simon knew he'd messed up. The fire he'd started burning down everything and he didn't stay to pick up the pieces. Now, years later he's back. The place he'd called home for so long the only safe place he could think of, the family inside broken and burned. He think's it might be too late to fix.

or

You can always come back home

Ghost stands in the open area of what used to be his home. He spots several things that had once been his. Several news clippings and mugs. The pictures on the wall make him look twice. It's him and Cece. Ribbons pinned to his button up, Cece's arm around his middle, face looking up at him. He can see the love in her eyes. His chest aches.

"That you?" Ghost nods, Gaz staring at them. There's a lot. Most are at the rodeo and some of from get togethers. Grant must've put them up. He thinks, Cece would've burned them. He feels grief at he thought of the older man. It was him that took the chance on him. Taught him more than his own father. Loved him like a son. He should've been here. Cece and Liz shouldn’t've been alone. Fuck up. The voice is his fathers. The time he spent on this ranch were constant in his memory. He'd learned more here than anywhere else. He felt free here, alive.

"Gonna have to show us." Price said standing beside him. They look at the different pictures. "You looks happy. Really happy." And he was. So damn happy. With Cece on his arm he'd never felt happier. The guilt he now felt almost eclipsed it.

"Maybe it has to do with the girl hanging off his arm." Gaz smirks as he says it. Ghost's cheeks flaming under the mask. It did have to do with the girl hanging on his arm. Price chuckles.

"Think yor' right Sargent." Price claps him on the back as they walk away. Ghost needs some air. Needs to be alone. His chest is aching and he feels like hes gonna vomit. So his feet lead him out the door and to the spot he'd loved forever.

He rips his mask off when he gets there, falling to his knees and gasping. He can't catch his breath. His chest feels like a void, a hole he cant fill. Tears are racing down his cheeks and his throat burns. Panic attack. He'd had them before. They'd haunted him since he was a child. His mom used to hold him and kiss his hair. But he hadn't let anyone see them since. He let the sobs wrack his body, let himself fall apart fully. He couldn't help it. The grief coating his body.

"Thought I'd find ya' here." His eyes caught sigh of the woman who'd been his second mother. Eliza immediately got to her knees and grabbed ahold of him. He flinched slightly but she shushed him as she pulled him into his arms. Her hands rubbing his arms. Ghost let her, didn't fear her touch or worry about his face being shown. Not with Liz, the woman who'd took him in without a thought. She hummed quietly. He knew they looked funny, this tiny older woman holding a much larger crying man. Ghost had been taller than Liz even back then.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong, Beau?" The nickname brought back more feelings of grief and guilt. He couldn't say no to Liz.

"I shoulda been here. Grant- I shoulda stayed." He cries harder. His chest heaving.

"Hush. Nothing woulda stopped him from getting sick." He hears his swallow before she speaks again. "You left for a reason. Grant knew it and so did I. Doesn't change that we love you. He knew you'd come home. And you have."

"But Cece-" She cuts him off.

"Cecelia is too stuck in her head. She stills loves you or she wouldn't hold a grudge. She'll get over it. Use to blush every time her daddy brought you up." He chuckles at that. He sits up and smiles at Liz.

"I missed you. Wanted to call so many times but I couldn’t" She smiles and rubs his cheek.

"You had your reasons, as do we all. Now come on, let's go see if my daughter is making dinner yet." He laughs and stands before helping her up.

Cece has dinner started, Gaz standing beside her as she talks him through what they're doing. Johnny cutting up some veggies while Price works on shucking corn.

"She's just like her father." Liz whispers it to him as he leads her in. Cece turning around when she notices him. She freezes for a seconds, eyes going slightly wide at his maskless face. The boys also stutter when they realize.  They hadn't seen him without it since Las Almas. Liz like always knows when he doesn't want the attention and drawls it to her.

"What's for dinner?" The question shakes Cece from her trance and she nods towards Gaz.

"Dad's favorite." It's all she says as she turns to watch Gaz. Liz pulls him away, needing help to set the table. Cece watches as Gaz stirs the pot, memories and thoughts running through her head. She hadn't seen Simon since she was sixteen. The last imagine she had was him walking away from her. Her screaming and begging him to not leave. Still, he'd left. Her pleas nothing to him.

"What was he like." She shakes her head as she looks at Johnny, or Soap as the captain had said.

"What?" Confusion on her face.

"Ghost or Simon. What was he like." They don't know. She has to remind herself that. They don't know that he'd abandoned her.

"Kind. He was eighteen. Just turned legal actually. Daddy brought him home and he was meek, hardly talked at first. But kind." She smiled as she remembered it.

"Ghost?" Johnny chuckled.

"Daddy showed him the ropes and he just fit. The animals loved him. You'd always find him in the horse pasture next door, taming whatever stallion they'd gotten." They'd spent many evenings in that field, riding and rolling around. "'tis why he was so good at bull riding. Had the magic touch is what mama always said. I've seen him handle barrels heavier than cows so I know he was just holding on."

"Aye' seen 'im handle men bigger than him!" She nods. Wondering what he'd been doing all these years. What'd he been through. Her Simon had always been gentle with her, her family. She'd seen his temper but it'd never been aimed towards her. They'd talked about his family and his past so she knew he'd had issues. Things he needed to work on but she'd always thought they'd do it together. Hand in hand. He'd promised her.

"Think I'm done over here." She breaks away and goes to handle the rest of dinner.

 They gather round the table and of course say grace at Liz's demand. The boys digging in almost instantly. And so they eat, boys asking questions and Liz telling stories that cause Cece and him to blush. It almost feels normal. Like they're not hiding from anything, like he didn't leave. The only thing missing is Grant. He'd be siting right beside Liz, hand on hers in between bites. He'd be beside Cece, hand on her thigh, sneaking glances. But she was beside Johnny, laughing at some joke he'd said. He could feel the jealousy, knew he had not right to be. He'd left. And still he loved her. Had loved her all these years. Seeing her had brought so many feelings to the surface. He'd wanted to grab her, taste her lips once again and just love her. She'd grown, matured. Her body had filled out more. And he couldn't deny the lust he felt towards her.

"Ani't that right Simon." He wasn't listening. His cheeks blushing.

"I'm sorry, what?" The boys chuckled. Seeing him like this was new.

"I was telling them 'bout the time you broke in the Mastons stallion. The one that'd kicked Mr. Maston dumb." Simon nodded and chuckled.

"The old man thought throwing a saddled on 'em would work. Damn thing kicked him so hard he went cold." Cece laughed, her voice sounding so sweet.

"Heard Mary screaming for miles." They all laugh. The memory bittersweet. He had so many memories here. So many good ones. Ones that had filled his nights were grief and guilt. He'd punished himself repeatedly over the years. Spent sleepless nights running the night he left over and over. The image of her screaming and crying tearing him apart. But he was home now. Home. This place had become home so easily. But once again he was running, bringing trouble behind him. Seemed that was his destiny.

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

OK, so I had such I hard time choosing between the angst prompts cause you'd write them all so well!

Can you please do #8 for the writing prompts for Aron x Sam?

XOXO, @sweet-self-indulgence

Of course I can! Thank you for the ask! I got a little in my feels writing it, I loved the prompt.

Trigger warning for detailed descriptions of pain and vomiting

Cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad

Not an inconvenience (Sam x Aron)

Aron laid on the bed, an ice pack under her neck as she gasped from sharp pains rushing through her body. Any movement of her head and deep breath sent sparks of electric shocks down her spine; the pain severe enough that she felt her stomach turn with nausea. It felt as if her hands and feet were on fire, every feather light touch feeling like a knife twisting into her flesh. She held back sobs, knowing crying would only worsen the pain.

She had many moments like this, her health flaring up randomly even without a real trigger. She was on medication and had surgery to help, but nothing could ever cure her condition, so she was stuck dealing with it until the pain would let up, only to know it would return.

She reached over for her phone, hoping to scroll on social media to distract herself from the pain and distress she was in, only to let out a yelp at the attempt. Suddenly she felt her mouth salivate and what felt like her insides turning, warning her she was going to vomit. She shot up out of bed despite the agony it caused and rushed into the bathroom so she could kneel in front of the toilet as she vomited.

The strain only made the pain worse as she puked. It felt like her brain was expanding, trying to escape her body. She reached up and held her hair back and away from her face, the action of moving her shoulders increasing the ache in her back.

She barely managed to flush the toilet before she started trying to get up to rinse her mouth and lay down. Her brain went foggy, and the next thing she knew, she was laying on her bedroom floor. Each choked sob sent waves of excruciating sensations throughout her body. She’d already taken as much pain meds allowed, so the only thing she could think of that would help and that had helped in the past was the enthrallment of an incubus.

“Aomaris,” she choked out, the magic of the summoning causing an odd, momentary feeling of lightness throughout her body,

The room was suddenly engulfed in bright, white light, causing her to wince. Even as it died down, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes to look at him, guilt already starting to eat at her.

“Aron!?” Sam shouted in concern as he knelt beside her. 

“I’m- I’m sorry, I know you were working out but- I-” she couldn’t finish the sentence as more sobs wracked her trembling body.

“No, it’s okay,” he told her. “What can I do to help? Did something happen?”

“No- I just- Could you just take the pain away? Please, it- it hurts so much…please help me,” she pleaded with him, her lungs burning with the intensity of her crying.

Immediately she felt a comforting warmth envelop her body like a blanket, all of the pain and burning dissolving quickly. She finally felt the ability to take a deep breath, body practically limp on the floor in relief and exhaustion. The magic soothed her mind to a soft lull. The enthrallment was comforting, helping her pain and hushing her mind without arousing her. 

She felt Sam’s strong arms carefully lift her up and bring her to the bed. He laid beside her, and Aron felt grateful that he always seemed to know what to do when she felt this way. Being in pain constantly can feel so lonely and isolating, so his closeness was always comforting for her, though she did worry about bothering him.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to murmur as he started gently rubbing her side and stomach. “I hate inconveniencing you, I just didn’t know what else to do…”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry, alright?” he said. “You aren’t bothering me, and I’d rather you summon me than to lay on the floor in pain, no matter what I’m doing.”

She sniffled and opened her eyes to look at him. “Promise I’m not bothering you?”

Sam nodded and kissed her temple. “Promise.”

[josephquinnswhore]

Hiiii bub thank you soooo much for the request here’s another one I have (based on me)

TW: blood & commit and anxiety attack

May you please do a Pedro pascal x plus size reader where readers worst fear is blood and any time they see it the feel nauseous and go in to an anxiety attack. Basically I was sick last week and had the absolute worst tummy bug (I’m all better) and threw up so hard my nose bled that I almost passed out and had an anxiety attack. Basically do it based off what happen to me and if u can add Bella and Nico and Gabriela calling Pedro bc he is the only one to calm reader down from these panic attacks.

Thank you in advance

My Comfort

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem/Plus Size Reader!

Summary: you’re sick and Pedro’s called back from his luck to see you in a bad way.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is sick, mentions of blood, panic attack, vomit.

Note: hi sun bun 🐰, I love you. We must be the same person fr cause I’ve been sick for over a month LMAO and I get so queasy when I see blood. UGH, hopefully this gives you what you need. I also throw up to the point where my throat bleeds lol it’s so fucked. 🫶🏼🥰 I made it pretty dramatic LOL. M sorry it’s short.

You told yourself you were fine, you could do the filming through the sickness. You were sipping on your water and drinking your raspberry flavoured hydralyte, even though it tasted like shit. Just to try and get yourself through the day, unable to tell yourself you’re not sick enough to show up for work. It was too important, it came before everything else in your life, well, almost everything. It was second in line to your boyfriend and co-worker, Pedro.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Just one more scene to shoot, then you can go home.” You chanted to yourself as you look in the mirror trying to convince yourself it to be true, thinking maybe if you said it aloud it would enforce some truth. Your face was losing colour with every passing minute, and the darkness around your eyes was a clear indication that everything was far from okay, that you were not okay.

But you felt guilty, you didn’t want to let the team down by going home and delaying the episode when you had one measly scene left to shoot, you may as well just tough it out and get through it as best you could. It would maybe take a couple hours at most, you could do that! Right? You started to doubt yourself at the way your limbs started to ache and feel heavy. It hurt to hold your head upright.

You turn on the tap to the cold water, letting the water gather into your cupped hands before you bring it to your face, the coolness is refreshing, you exhale a deep breath to try and relax, patting your face dry with some paper towel and throw it into the trash bin. You could do this. You couldn’t give up.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? You don’t look so hot.” Gabriel sets a hand on your shoulder, his thick black eyebrows were nearly touching as he frowned, his dark brown eyes squinted with concern at one look of you, his hand feels like it weighs a tonne on your aching shoulder. “I-I mean you are, but, you know.” He gestures to you and you raise an eyebrow at him, you didn’t wanna have to deal with this right now-as much as you liked him.

“Dude shut it, are you okay?” Bella asks, her face strewn with concern for your well-being. You swallow your spit loudly, gulping down the clump that sits in your throat, feeling more ill with every passing second. “Um…I’m ok, I think.” you can’t decide what to say, unsure of whether you even believe your obvious and blatant lies. Bella looks to Nico and they know you’re lying, sharing a look of sympathy toward you, watching as you slightly sway as you stand still.

“Why don’t you just sit down for a second, have some water.” You nod to Nico, “thanks,” you mumble in agreement as she sets a gentle hand on your back, helping you sit, agreeing it’s a good idea. The bright lights of the set don’t help the ache in your head that’s contributing to your illness. Your eyes squint as your brain throbs at how bright it is, you blink harshly, trying to rid the ache that’s set in motion, the shadow of a headache you knew would grow into a migraine.

“Wouldn’t hurt to sit for five minutes.” You mumble in an unintelligible slur, as you feel a wave of nausea coming over you, it shakes your whole body to the core, the feeling settles uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers grasp your bottle shakily with the hydralyte, desperate to rid your body of the nausea setting, but it wasn’t your bottle, and it wasn’t hydralyte. It was a bottle of soft drink, the fizz of the soda causes a rift in your stomach that feels like it’s about to explode. The feeling builds and builds until it feels like it’s going to erupt, from your mouth.

“Oh my god, someone get me a bucket.” You hunch over in your seat with one arm wrapped around your stomach, the other holding your hand over your mouth, the nausea rising up your throat that you have to swallow down the first time it attempts its exit because you would’ve just spewed all over the floor on set. You heave again, this time Gabriel is holding a bucket underneath your mouth, the taste of the liquid makes your stomach ache even though it barely has time to digest.

The same coloured liquid comes out as clear, mostly bile the first few times, until the stench of the contents in the bucket circulates through your nostrils and churns your stomach again, twisting until it shoots up your throat, this one hurt your throat badly, the sting it made coming out has you unable to breathe for a few seconds, your lash line full to the brim with unshed tears, coughing violently as someone rubs a hand along your back, trying to soothe you.

You feel something dribbling from your nose and you wipe it with the back of your hand, not caring how disgusting it would seem to anyone else. You expect to see snot or mucus on your hand associated with the tears brought to your eyes from the vomiting. To your surprise you see a bright red liquid, your blood was coating your hand in a rugged line on your hand, your nose was bleeding.

“Oh shit you’re bleeding.” Nico exclaims, panic evident in her voice, inspecting your nose and handing you a tissue, the blood filled the tissue within a few seconds, the flow from your nostril not giving up. You must’ve burst a blood vessel in your nostril with how it’s pouring out of you, you start to feel dizzy at the sight of how much blood you’re losing. You pull back the tissue and feel it leaking through the tissue, your fingertips were now stained red from how profusely it was bleeding.

It starts with your hands trembling, your body becomes stiff and you can hardly hear anyone around you. Your fingers are shaking that badly you drop the bloody tissue, your nose is now free bleeding all over you and your clothes. Your breaths are rugged and panicked. The ache in your neck causes it to fall, your whole body falling forward destined to hit the ground until Gabriel catches you, sitting you on the floor, lying you on your side.

“Call Pedro back from lunch, now. And get the damn medic.” Bella demands Gabriel who stands in a panic not knowing what to do, he rushes to get his phone and makes the call to Pedro, Nico rushes away to find the medic on set while Bella stays with you. She’s knelt down beside you, trying to pry you upright but your body is stiff and unmoving other than the small underlying tremble of your body.

The medic arrives first, she’s kneeling down beside Bella to look at you, eyeing the teenager in shock at the state of you. “Hey hun can you hear me? It’s Cas I’m here to help.” You feel a warm hand on your body as she rolls you onto your back, the ache from the touch alone causes you to whimper, your eyes are strewn shut at the brightness of the room, it was all too much, you just wanted Pedro.

She pulls out of her bag a cuff, to check your blood pressure, the tightening of the cuff on your arm was pleasantly satisfying, slightly grounding you with each notch of pressure that was released. “Okay, blood pressures a little low but nothing to be worried about. Just going to check your temperature sweetie.” She moves your arm, shoving a thermometer under your armpit and waits for it to beep. She checks it and purses her lips together on a thin line.

“Baby, oh my god is she okay?” Pedro kneels down next to you, his hands are holding your cheeks, cupped in his own large hands the warmth from them makes you sweat, a result of your ever rising temperature. “Is she okay?” Pedro asks Cas, she puts the thermometer away. “She had a reading of 39.2 degrees, she’s got a fever, not sure what’s causing it though.”

“Hey baby, hey can you hear me? It’s me baby I’m here.” You could barely find the strength in you to open your eyes, eyelids squinting to protect your eyes from the brightness of the room. “Hey.” You mutter, with the last of your strength you could muster before you fall unconscious.

-

Pedro’s leg is bouncing the whole time he’s sat in the chair beside your bed in the hospital. The beeping of the monitor keeping your reading would sometimes make a commotion in the event of a momentary spike in blood pressure, “it’s just trying to regulate itself.” The nurse offered, which didn’t make him feel any better.

“Mr Pascal, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Dr Wrent, we’ve been doing some tests on your girlfriend here today. We’ve come to find that she’s somehow contracted a deadly stomach bug, it’s rare but not unknown, we can give some anti biotics to take home and she should be fine within the week.” The doctor put your folder and hung it on the end of the bed, “by the way, make sure you enforce that she takes a break, tell her to stop working so hard.”

“Right, I’ll do that. Thanks for everything.” Pedro sunk back into his chair and waited for you to wake up, the small sandwich and juice from the cafeteria sitting unopened as you lie peacefully.

You start to stir right when Pedro feels his eyelids drooping, begging him to close so he can have a moments rest. He hears the shuffling before his brain has the chance to fully lull him into sleep, rustling around in the front of his mind to wake up, sending an alarm throughout his body that you were finally awake.

“God baby you’re awake. You scared the shit out of everyone you know that?” As if you hadn’t felt guilty enough, the worry on His face made it worse. You couldn’t look at him, avoidant in your stare towards him, looking quite literally elsewhere until he leaned over the bed and grabbed your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him.

“I’m sorry baby- I didn’t mean,” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “We were worried about you, why didn’t you tell someone you weren’t feeling well?” You should’ve just done that to begin with you knew, but you were too stubborn.

“I just convinced myself I should do it, I didn’t want to disappoint anyone by delaying the season for one last scene.” Pedro’s hand caresses your hair, fingers gliding through your hair as he calms you. “From now on you put yourself forward okay? Promise me.”

You pull your bottom like between your teeth, enjoying the sting it brings when you bite down too hard, “okay, I promise.”

“I’m proud of you though, you saw that blood and didn’t die, soooo.” Pedro trails off with a small laugh and you groan and roll your eyes, shoving his arm. “Don’t remind me, that’s so embarrassing.”

Pedro stands from the bed, handing you a sandwich wrapped in a paper bag, “you know I think they’re gonna put a scene of you passing out in the show.” You stop feeling back the paper bag and look at him suspiciously, “they wouldn’t want to!”

He simply shrugs, “you didn’t hear that from me, now eat. Need my baby strong.” You unwrap and bite into the sandwich, it contained all your favourite fillings and you smile, stomach feeling settled and the ache of the emptiness was now gone as you’d managed to swallow some food. You’d sure learnt a valuable lesson; Gabriel is useless when it comes to emergency situations.