#walks into your house. starts hacking and coughing and dying right in front of you ahah hii

[xylo-art]

THAT'S NOT LOOKIN TOO GOOD BUD.. :(

[attackonmango]

|Party of Five|Jean x Reiner x Reader x Marco x Bertholdt|Smut|

|This is a pretty long, disgusting and sexual one shot, that I wrote to The Take. It will be upward of a few thousand words, so I hope you like long, smutty chapters. Party of 5, right this way ;)|

"Go clean the showers, brat; you used them last," Levi ordered as he stopped by your room to assign your latest late-night chore. You tried your hardest not to groan out loud. It would help if you had listened to your roommate Ymir who told you to wait until morning.

"Aye, Aye, captain," you muttered, cursing him in your head as he left your shared quarters.

Heading to the supply closet, you grab two dozen handmade rags, a few buckets and a bunch of cleaning products.

The walk to the shower building wasn't far, thankfully. Though the sun has been down for a few hours, the summer air was still suffocating.

"I guess I'd rather be cleaning the showers than shovelling horse shit," you mutter as you pass by the smelly barn. You were laughing to yourself as you listen to Sasha and Connie argue, irritated due to the vile fumes that their masks couldn't protect them from.

As you make it to the showers, you hear laughter inside, and as you open the doors, it only gets louder.

You see Reiner, Jean, Bertholdt and Marco, chasing each other with towels. You watch as they pop each other with them, screaming when it came in contact with their skin.

As Jean and Bertholdt ran past you, Bertholdt popped you with a towel though he aimed for Jean. You cried out in pain, laughing due to shock. "Damn! That shit hurt." you scoffed, partially playing.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Bertholdt apologized profusely as he squinted his eyes, scratching his neck. His face flushed red as he looked at you with embarrassment.

Nodding, you raise your hands to put space between the two of you, "Just don't hit me anymore, accidental or on purpose." you laugh, and he joins in shyly.

"I'm guessing Levi set you to clean the girl's showers?" he asked, creating small talk to avoid awkward silence. He was thankful you had forgiven him so quickly.

"Yea, I'm gonna be here for a while. Not as long as you guys tho, I hear it's pretty bad in there." you laugh to yourself. That rumour has been floating around for a while since training began.

"It is; we've been here since six” Bertholdt exasperated. You both part ways, Bertholdt back on the hunt for Jean.

For the next two hours, you wipe up the wet floors, clean off the mirrors and toilets. You moped and began to clean individual showers. You made sure to make everything pristine as white, exactly how Levi likes it. You didn't want to be back down here tomorrow.

Something tells you that the boys would though, their laughter and the sounds of them running echoed of the walls. They definitely weren’t cleaning. Sometimes you'd see Jean, looking for the rag he lost hours ago. Reiner and Bertholdt rough housing like usually and Marco trying to get everyone to remain on task.

Suddenly in ran Marco, wailing as he raced from Reiner who carried a sloshing bucket of clear water. “I’m just trying to get out of here early? Whats so wrong with that?” Along with “I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear?”

You watch as Marco rans in your direction as Reiner braced himself to throw the clean water. “Hey chill out! I just wiped the floor.” You scold in protest.

Reiner shook his head, adamant that he do what he planned. “A little bit of water never hurt no body.” After that, everything went in slow motion. Marco slipped behind Y/N as the water splashed down on her.

"Yah!" You cried out as Reiner attempted to splash Marco with an entire bucket of water, but he moved out of the way as cold water pierced your skin; the boy's eyes widened as they drifted towards you. Their laughing came to a halt as they started. "Oh shit, " Reiner and Marco exclaim as they still their feet.

Plenty of the water splashed into your mouth and nose, causing you to cough it up. Hacking in front of Marco and Reiner, as your eyes pricked with tears. “Assholes.” You muttered before groaning loudly.

Reiner and Marco swallow thickly as they notice your tears of distress. Too bad they lacked sympathy, as you looked too good for them to care.

"I told you guys to fucking cool it, now I'm wet," you scold them as the shirt clung to your skin. You ran your hands through your hair as you sighed, frustration coursing through you. If looks could kill, they’d be dead because you were pissed.

You pay no attention to Jean and Bertholdt as they walk over to the girl showers, not noticing the way their eyes bulged in their sockets.

You watched as a blush crept up Marco's cheeks as he looked the other direction, refusing to make eye contact, Jean's mouth ajar, both surprise and pure happiness etched on his features.

"Hello, excuse me?" you glared as your hands landed on your hips, as one side jutted out. You turned to glare at Reiner, who grinned, staring intensely at your chest as Bertholdt turned around to avoid your gaze altogether.

Suddenly you shivered, glancing down; you notice you had a white shirt on. A wet white shirt on. "Oh shit!" You cried out, hands flying to cover your breast that we're on full display.

You couldn’t turn away because they stood around you on all sides, and someone would get a eyeful of tits. The best you could do was hiding them behind your arms and hands.

You laughed nervously, absolutely flustered, "Advert your eyes." Your face flushed as you shifted on your feet. Your heart raised as the situation set in. Reiner had exposed you while targeting Marco in front of the 4 of them while they gaped at you. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notices the pitches in their shorts.

"They look great, " Jean chuckled, raising a brow at you. He felt no shame as he drank in your figure. Jean always thought you were sexy. The way your breast filled your shirt, he noticed the way they bounced as you ran.

Reiner visibly cringed, tossing his head back with laughter. "You sound creepy, horse face." Reiner stalked towards you, his eyes flickering from your chest to your bottom lip that you had sucked between your teeth, chewing it until it had gotten red. The look in his eyes weakening your taut knees.

"And you're not?" Jean shot back at Reiner, who ignored him.

"My apologies, Y/N, that bucket was for Marco, " Reiner muttered huskily as he hooked a finger under the hem of your shirt as water dripped down your thighs, tugging harshly. The way he towered over you had you reeling.

Marco loved how plush your thighs were; though he was a gentleman, he isn't innocent. He could see himself dying happily with his head in between them. He couldn't curb the pang of jealousy that washed over him as Reiner toyed with your shirt. You were petrified and enticed as he did so.

You have always found Reiner attractive, as well as the other boys in the room. You had watched thrm grow from boys to men over tge last few years. So his proximity and gaze caused heat to pool in your pants, as you drank in his Earthy scent. His cool breath wafted across your face and the cold water he dumped on you. It didn’t help as the other peered down at you like predator ready to jump on prey. But that’s what this was, wasnt it.

Reiner's next question caused your jaw to drop, "Would you let us take you right here?" You hadn't noticed how close the boys had gotten, Jean and Reiner more so than the others. Reiner lifted his hand to cup your face, his callous hand tracing stars on your cheek.

Your eyes widened as you stared in shock, stepping back until someone pulled you into them, "I-" a hand groping your hip stole your will to speak.

"I bet she would, " Jean purred in your ear, as he pressed himself against you from behind. His clothed length rutting against your full bottom, he massaged your hips, causing your mind to race. "Don't say you haven't thought about it, love, having your brains fucked out while we use you." Jean wasn't wrong; you constantly thought of having to be under them while they ravaged your body, using up whatever they pleased. You thought of all the possibilities of dirty things they could do to you. But you never thought you’d do anything with one of them, in front of the rest of them. And you definitely didn’t think you’d be with all of them at the same time.

You find yourself absent-mindedly backing into Jean, loving the way his length prodded your butt. His fingers dig into your waist as he sensually moved his hips. "See, she's eager." Jean chuckled darkly as he reaches to grab a full fist of hair. He anchors your head, causing you to stare up at Reiner through hooded eyes. "Tell him, slut." You couldn't fight it as you were filled with desire. Usually, that word would hurt your feelings, but given the situation and opportunity at hand, it made you want more than a bit of friction.

Reiner looked down at you, his eyes soft as he waits for your answer. "It is the least you could do," your lashes flutter as you pull away from Jean enough to slip your sodden shirt off. Catering to your nerves, you covered yourself the best you could until Jean pulled your hands away.

"Definitely," Reiner muttered as his hands wander your upper body. Dropping to his knees, he guided your exposed breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple as he tugged, nibbling slightly. You feel him grin as your breathy moans escape you, as you shuddered under their touch. Jean's palms were kneading your ass in his hands. He smirked as you crumple in him and Reiner's grasp as he mutters what he plans on doing to you.

You don't protest as Jean pulled your pants down, lifting your legs out of them. They were quickly discarded since they were no longer needed, along with your panties. His long fingers playing at your entrance.

Your hands danced around in Reiner's hair as he suckled on your bust. As you moaned softly, you tried your hardest not to push his head, but to no avail.

"Slow down, baby, " Reiner muttered as he pulled away, spit trailing from his lips to your sensitive bud, his eyes dilated as he palmed himself through his shorts. "You'll get what you want." The authority in his voice caused your core to dampen; you rub your moist thighs together to ease your desire. You nodded at him, signaling you understand.

“Atta girl,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away water. A pout falls upon your lips as he pulled away too fast for your liking.

"Take these off, " Reiner ordered, referring to his clothes as he pinched your erect nipples, moistening them both.

"Yessir," you exasperate, shamelessly; you rush to get his shirt off, drooling as the shower lights glistened on his toned chest. As you worked on his belt, your hands shake causing Jean to laugh, you groan in agitation as you couldn’t even open his belt.

. "Help her out, man, she's struggling." his hand worked faster as he slipped in another digit inside, curling them as he hit your g spot.

Heat fills your stomach as you sigh into Reiner's chest, he pats your head, telling you it okay. “Guess I’ll do it myself.”

You sigh as his hands slip in between you, the familiar jingle of his belt causing you to clench around Jean’s finger. You feel as his hands work on his belt as you took time to revel in pleasure. Jean moved his other hand from your hip to work your clit, using your slick as a lubricant. You sank deeper into his arms while Reiner worked his belt off along with his pants.

It fell to the ground, the metal on it clinking as it hit the floor. You grin sexily as Reiner stood in all his glory. "There. Now finish," he spoke curtly. Slipping your hand into his boxers, you pull them down. Jumping as his cock sprang out, hitting your face because you were sandwiched between the two. Reiner’s dick was long and thick, his tip swollen with anticipation and his tip pink with want. You trail your fingers down his veins that were prominent on all sides, smiling as he sighed sensually, dick throbbing in your hands. Your eyes cut to Marco, who stood watching, panting slightly as his hand with hand in his pants. Bertholdt stood watching; his breathing laboured as he watched with a red face, his dick hard as well."What about those two, " you mutter as you stare into their eyes.

"Don't worry about them, " Jean spoke harshly as he pulled his clothes off his skin. "We're busy for now."

"Look at you, so interested in someone else's needs." Reiner praised once more, peppering your lips with soft kisses. "They'll get a turn. Right now, we're playing."

Jean pulls your legs, spreading them out. His hand trailed down your back as he kissed your neck, leaving love bites when he can. Jean pressed on the small of your back, asking you to arch. He leaned you down, your face in front of Reiner’s dick, who cupped your chin again, his fingers brushing against your lip as you sat on your hands and knees.

"Say ah," as he patted your face, his voice tantalizing and husky with seduction, asking you to open your mouth, you almost instantly complying. He guided his dick to and past your lips, brushing his pre-cum on your plush, full and moistened lips. Licking them, you hum with delight. Wrapping your tongue around his tip, you pull Reiner by his thighs as close as you could without choking.

You shudder as Jean aligned himself at your entrance, his tip drawing circles on your clit as you buck your hips involuntarily. Your moaning sent vibration down Reiner's length.

You grew irritated as Jean teased your hole with the swole tip of himself, you push away from Reiner, enough so you could be. “Don’t leave me hanging, Jean.” You muttered back at the brunette who glared darkly. You shiver as sly laughter fell from his lips.

A scream shot in you as Jean plunged into, slamming into your sweet spot. You couldn’t help the way Jean pushed you into Reiner, causing you to gagged around him. Your nose scrunches up as more precum slides down your throat as he throbbed on your wet muscle.

Making quick use of your throat, Reiner hips began to rock in a slow, tight motion as he fucked your face slowly, one hand on the back of your head, knotted loosely in your hair. The other is under your armpit and wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you farther from Jean.

Warm drool pools in your mouth and down your chin. It dribbled down his waist, slicking his balls, the squelching of your throat and the feel of your tongue lapping him up as you hummed on his dick as Jean teased your womanhood drove him insane, as he pulled you you closer, watching your mouth swallow him up, again and again.

"F-fuck, so good." Reiner sputtered out praise, massaging the back of your head gently with one hand. It was a miracle you could breathe because the two of them weren't giving you a chance.

Marco's hand was in his pants, pumping away slowly, chasing a nut as he watched Reiner and Jean play tug of war with you and manhandled you. Listening to you cry out and moan was enough to cause him to erupt all over his hand. You groan at the empty feeling you feel as Jean pulls out. It didn’t last long though, as you squelch and pucker around him.

Suddenly you cried out as Jean pushed into your pulsating core, stuffing you even though he hadn't bottomed out. You're hogging Y/N, Reiner," Jean growled, his hands digging into your hips, pulling your ass apart. He watched part of his long and girthy shaft reappear and disappear from inside of you. "Let up, bro."

"Fuck no," Reiner breathed out, his eyes fluttering as he sighed, followed by more praise. Jean tugged you closer to him, against Reiner's needy and robust grip, pressing on your back, fixing your arch. To him, it wasn't deep enough; your ass needs to be higher. "Keep that arch, dammit."

You body lunges back and forth as they fuck into you simultaneously. You knees weaken as the realization sets in. To them, you were a rag doll, something they could use because you’d never stop them. You enjoyed it too much.

You cried out as Jean's large and heavy hand landed on your ass with a loud smack. His hands moved from your hips to your stomach; he slammed into the rest of the way and withdrew, leaving you feeling empty. Delicious pain shot through you as he pushed up back inside you.

The wetness of your mouth and your screams sending vibration down his dick, Reiner's hips to stall as he began to shake. To know that you even had this power over him caused you to clench around Jean.

Reiner moved his hands back to your head, tightening his grip in your now tangled hair. His dick hit the back of your throat as he forcefully pushed you closer to Jean, who thrust relentlessly, his head tossed make in pleasure. Reiner emptied himself down your throat, holding you in place as he forced you to take his load. "Swallow it all, beautiful." which you had no choice but to oblige; thankfully, he tasted pretty good. Sweeter than salty.

He moved a hand to your jaw, rubbing it softly as you breathed out heavily as he pulled out of your mouth with an audible pop. "Open up," he omitted quietly, tapping your chin. He wiped the wetness of tears from your eyes as you looked up at him through wet lashes, fighting moans as Jean also got sloppy with his thrusts.

Opening your mouth, Reiner looked inside and smiled constantly. "Good job, you did so well." though he was on his knees, he leaned down to kiss you right as your much-awaited orgasm shot through you as Jean's dick rubbed against you g spot, his thumb playing with your sensitive clit, the warm pit in your stomach boiling over as you spilled out onto Jean's pulsating length.

You pulled away from Reiner and cried out as Jean pulled you close to him, pinning your hands behind your back as he fucked you through your orgasm, laying you against the cold tiles that cut through your warmth. He laid on top of your shaking figure; he laid perfectly on your arch, putting all his weight on you to hold you down. Pulling out of you, Jean came on your ass, using a hand to smear it all over you. You noticed that Bertholdt finally turned around, a concerned look on his face as he held a rag, sitting in a chair.

Finally letting you go, Jean stood up smiling as he watched you lay on the ground. Walking around you, he stands at your hand. Watching your chest heave up and down made satisfaction shoot through him. "Told you that you'd like it." Jean laughed at your dazed expression, glazed over eyes and a tired and euphoric smile on your face.

Before Jean could get into aftercare, Bertholdt swooped you up as you cried out. You were sensitive, and they were pretty rough. "Aftercare is essential. Let's clean you up, baby." Bertholdt held you close, smiling softly as you looked at him through teary eyes.

He sat back in the chair, using the damp rag to wipe away the spit that covered your face, along with the nut on your ass, and also your folds, while he told you how perfect you had been, how sexy it was to watch his friends use you while your face was in his shirt. "Can you do me a favour?"

Looking up, you nodded your head, listening to whatever Bertholdt is about to say. You would speak, but you were still coming down from your high.

"Let me taste you." Passion burns in his eyes as Bertholdt licks his lips. You couldn't say no, not to that face. You hear the other boys laugh and tease the both of you.

You hide your face in his shirt as he wraps his around you, "you don't have to, but I'd like it." he muttered so only you could hear. He was giving you an out; if today had been too much, then Bertholdt hoped to do it someday along the line.

" I want to," you say hoarsely, your throat still ached from Reiner. "Let's lay by the shower," Bertholdt instructed as he covered your named body to one of the showerheads. He positioned you so that the water would hit your upper stomach. Turning it on to the lowest setting, water gently spurts out of the faucet, spraying a warm mist over your body that ached from being slutted out by Jean and Reiner. Who knew the pairing made for a devilish dicking down.

Bertholdt brought you back to his attention as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. He scooted close enough to smell your desire. He teased your clit with a light brush of his fingers. You cry out, the feeling of want to build deeply inside you.

"Such a tease," you muttered, bucking your hand against his skimming hand. Laughing lightly at you, Bertholdt teases your clit a few times before he sucked on it. Your thigh squeeze, involuntarily but Bertholdt opened your legs up. His tongue danced around your clit, rolling it between his lips as you began to moan out, your hands resting on his head, tingling as water lightly drizzles upon your arm. Bertholt put his arms around you, massaging your tummy in his hand while his tongue rubbed your clit. He sucked on every part of your pussy, that he could.

As he began to fuck you with his tongue, he dropped a hand down to run a tight circle with his thumb on your clit. Convulsing, you bucked your hips to match the flow of his tongue, working for your orgasm. Your breath began laboured as you met eyes with the other guys.

“Such a good girl, look at the way your grinding into Bert’s face,” Marco praised as you began to hump their friend’s face while he worshiped you with his tongue.

"You look adorable when you are about to cum," Reiner teased as he chuckled at your expression. You couldn't help but chew your lip with anticipation for your release.

"I can't believe you are this slutty," Jean laughed as he fucked you with his eyes.

You began to babble, at a loss for words due to their words and Bertholdt devouring you like he hadn’t ate earlier today in the mess hall

They loved to see you so vulnerable like this; it was a side not many seen since you were a seasoned soldier. But to see you mewling around through touch was enough to drive them nuts. They often all fantasized about you, they knew that they had a mutual crush on you, which they playfully argued about but it was nothing detrimental. And now, here they are, fucking you together, and jacking off to the way your face contorted and the way your body twisted, begging for more.

“Damn, if i knew, ah, that your mouth was this good, I would’ve hopped on a lot sooner.” You breathed out, hard carding through his soft brown hair.

“You taste so damn sweet,” Bertholdt muttered, his nose nudging your pulsating clit as he dipped his tongue into your core. He groaned at the way you tasted as he spread you open, licking a bold strip down your folds.

You watch the others as they pump away with their cocks in hand. Black dots cover your vision as you feel another orgasm shoot through to, Soaking Bertholdt's chin and lips as he lapped up your orgasm, his hands massaging away at your tummy.

Curses leave your lips as you rock your hip into his mouth that attempted to swallow your soul. "Ah~ Fuck!" you cried out, tears pricking in your eyes.

"It's okay, Y/N." Marco's voice echoes through you as you shook with pleasure. Reaching for him, Marco took his hand in yours, and he used the other one to brush your tears away. "You've been doing so good, now of your turn to be pleasured." he purred in your ear as he guided you through your second orgasm.

You latch onto his lips with yours, your tongue fighting to devour each other. Marco grinned at your breathy moans that he swallowed.

As your moans came to a stop, you couldn't help but lightly push Bertholdt away from your center. You were way too sensitive, and if he could have it his way then, you'd be there in that spot, all damn night.

He laughed as he laid eyes on you, you looked fucked beyond your comprehension, and your mind was still catching up. "You tasted amazing, thank you." Bertholdt pressed his lips to yours one last time to let you taste yourself.

Humming in his mouth, you hug him. You felt thankful and were in utter bliss. You've never been fucked so good before. This was your first 5-some, and you knew this was heavily frowned upon, but these four made you feel the best you have ever felt.

Reiner handed you your shorts and his undershirt so that you could get dressed. "So," he began, both of your faces glowing red and hot. "I think I speak for the guys when I say, this was fun. If you weren't satisfied, or this isn't your thing, we don't have to do it again, but we could." Reiner trailed off as the guys mutually agreed out loud. “Shit we would be more than welcome to doing this frequently.”

"It was enjoyable, a bit too enjoyable. It seems like now we are a party of 5, causing regular sex isn't going to cut it if I can be fucked with that," you laugh as you slip your clothes on. Pressing your lip to Reiner's lips and then each boy after that.

"Reiner and Jean," you call as you break away from your kiss with Bertholdt. "Next time, maybe don't fight with each other." you giggle as they awkwardly grin with knowing smiles.

"You liked it," Jean muttered as he pulled you into him, tucking you into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"I did, now let's finish." you admitting, grabbing your things to finish cleaning before Levi makes an appearances. You ignored the shaking of your legs until you had finished. The five of you are finally at the dorms when you collapse into Marco, who carried you back.

Like you had said, it was like a guilty pleasure. You enjoyed being around beautiful men who wanted on you hand and foot. They were amazing and the sex was great too.

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (15)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda search for their printsessa with the help of Tony.

Warnings: dark themes, gun use, blood mention, serious injury

A/N: am I devastated that this is the final part of one of my favorite things I’ve ever written? absolutely! but I’m also really happy with myself for being able to turn the images in my head for this ending into coherent words. I’ve been holding onto this idea for weeks and I’m ecstatic to see everyone’s response to it. I’ll be letting you know later on this week what’s coming next! 👀

Previous part

-

With Clint’s assistance, Natasha and Wanda were able to quickly create a plan and make their way to the last base, using the fear and anger of their girlfriend’s disappearance to barrel through anyone that stood in the way of intel collection. They wasted no time in waking everyone up when they returned to the safe house.

“Is there a security breach?” Steve questioned as the group gathered, and Natasha tossed the hard drive at him.

“We got everything, and we need to get back--”

“Oh, I get it,” Sam cut in with an eye roll. “They rushed through the mission to get back to their girlfriend so they can cuddle and all that cute shit--”

“She’s missing!” Wanda growled as her eyes began to glow, causing Sam to step back a few feet with wide eyes.

Everyone aside from Clint started asking questions all at once, and Natasha shut them all down with a stern command to be ready to fly out in ten minutes. Bags were packed and bodies were dressed as the team rushed to get to the jet, afraid of what might happen if they delayed the two women any longer.

“While we’re checking out the house, I need someone looking into Wesley L/N,” Natasha ordered, nodding as Tony volunteered and sending him all the information she had.

“Who is this, her brother?”

“Her cousin, if that’s even true--”

“It is, we checked the family history,” Wanda insisted, grabbing Natasha’s hand with a shaky breath. “They’re really close, he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“We don’t know that! Anyone can do something terrible if they’re pushed far enough--”

“Stop! Just fucking stop!” Wanda cried out as she covered her face with her hands, and Natasha moved to wrap her arms around her as she sat in the seat beside her.

“I’m sorry, Wan. I’m just worried and my brain is wired to go to the worst case scenario instantly.”

Wanda simply sniffled as tears started spilling down her cheeks again, leaning her head against Natasha’s shoulder as she accepted the comforting embrace. After a few minutes of silence between the pair, Wanda dropped her hands into her lap as she glanced at green eyes already absentmindedly staring at her, lowering her voice as she spoke.

“I want to ruin his mind before we kill him.”

-

The house felt empty and colder without your presence, every step on the carpeted floor of the front room seemed to echo around the building. Tears threatened to build in Wanda’s eyes again but she held them back, intent on believing that they will find you and bring you back where you belong. Only they could take care of what you needed.

A heavy feeling washed over their hearts when they entered your solo room and discovered some of your clothes and shoes were missing, along with the travel bag you’d first arrived with. The guest room Wesley resided in was also void of his presence, and anything that could clue them into where he’d taken you. 

“Tash, look.”

Natasha followed her gaze to the security room, cursing loudly in Russian when she noticed the door left wide open. She stormed inside, clenching her fist in anger when she noticed the tiny plastic baggie holding the miniscule tracker that was supposed to be in your leg right now.

“He’s a psychiatrist, not a fucking surgeon!” she fumed as she showed the object to Wanda. “How did he get this out?!”

Wanda walked around her to get to one of the computers, logging in as fast as her fingers would allow her to type and bringing up the security footage from the last several days. For the most part, the two of you acted normally, doing all the things you’d told them about like playing games and watching TV, but the sight of the two of you emerging from the TV room in the basement and entering the game room brought something to her attention.

“Did you see that?” She backed up the footage and switched over to slow motion. “She’s limping.”

“Isn’t that the day she hurt her leg in the backyard?”

“Yes, but…” The backyard footage is brought up next and skipped through until the moment of your ‘injury’. “This happened almost two hours later, meaning--”

“It was a cover for the tracker removal.” Natasha cursed once more as she released a frustrated sigh. “She’s getting locked in her room as soon as she gets back here.”

A notification similar to a phone ringing went off on one of the monitors, and the two women scurried over to answer the incoming call from Tony.

“Everything you had on this Wesley kid checks out, no criminal history or secret ties to any Hydra related groups, or anything else you have to worry about. However, I tried tracking and hacking into his phone and it seems to be wiped clean. So I got into his phone records with his cell company and his last call was made to an unsaved number connected to someone named Kendall, last known address in Nebraska.”

“Send it to us, please.”

They were on their feet as soon as the call ended, grabbing the mission bags abandoned in the doorway and heading off to their respective rooms to repack for the trip.

In nearly the same moment, you were in your safe house in Nebraska, rounding the corner to enter Wesley’s room. He knew something was wrong by the way your eyes watered and your shaky hand held onto the bugging device.

“They found us.” There was no questioning tone in his voice, but you answered with a nod anyway.

“Pack everything you brought and get out of here, drive toward the west coast until you run out of gas and hide wherever you stop.”

“What?! I can’t leave you here! They’ll just take you back and it’ll be worse than before.”

“I’ll be fine, Wes,” you assured him with a gentle squeeze of your hand over his. “I planned for this too, and if I know them as well as I think, I’ll be free to come find you.”

-

Wesley was packed and gone within the next hour, and you worked quickly to transform the space, make it seem as if you’d been the only one to reside in the home. Once that was set, you changed clothes and positioned yourself in an armchair against the wall in the front room, a gun resting in your lap. You didn’t move when a knock was heard on the front door that night, simply waited until the visitors got impatient and picked the lock to force their way in.

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addressed you in a chilling tone as the two of them stopped a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you told her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjected with a stern expression. “Now, you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stood slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you went. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You noticed the glassy look in their eyes as they faced each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds felt like minutes as they seemed to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda was fully crying now, and Natasha seemed to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“We always thought we’d be able to love and care for you until our dying days.” Her shaky voice filled the quiet room. “But we understand if you don’t want that, and we’re sorry that you’ll never be able to love anyone else.”

Before you had time to react, Natasha was pulling a gun out and aiming it at your heart, the sound of the shot echoing and triggering Wanda’s instant sobbing. Natasha was quick to pull her into her arms, facing her away from you as you tumbled to the ground, your own weapon sliding away as your free hand weakly pressed against the oversized sweatshirt that covered your wound.

The two women hurried out of the house as you began to choke and cough up blood, not able to stomach hearing or seeing anymore, and the sound of a car speeding off echoed throughout the neighborhood. Waiting another minute or two to be sure they left, you got up to walk off to the bathroom, wiping the fake blood off your palm the best you could. After slipping the bulletproof vest off your torso and washing your hands, you quickly rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth to get rid of the red stains, lifting your head to look in the mirror with a smile when you were done.

You looked pretty good for a dead woman.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @fayhar @becka107 @wannabe-fic-reader @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @trikruismybitch @muted-stoneheart @multi-images @just-a-normalpersons @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @stickystudentlightmug @pianogirl2121 @welcometothepeanutgallery @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @sakurat123 @darkangelxoxo @haiiiloeee2

[love-and-monsters]

Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

POV: You Got Wayyy Too High

Warnings: Drug use (weed lol)

Aizawa Shouta/ Eraserhead

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Aizawa as he plopped his bag at the door. You were trying to smoke weed from a pipe, but instead of lighting the actual herb, you were trying to heat it up from the bottom of the pipe.

You’d never smoked weed, but wanted to try it and bought the supplies from a local smoke shop, as well as buying some good stuff from your friend.

Unfortunetly, you also didn’t bother to look up how to actually use a pipe, instead just relying on knowledge you gained from drug documentaries.

This meant that you only knew how people heated up heroin with a flame under the spoon, which meant that surely you could do the same with weed.

“No, no, no, no. Stop that,” he ordered. You were his age, but nonetheless still buckled under his stern tone.

“Look, do you need me to show you how to do it?” he asked, gently taking the glass pipe from your hand. You nodded.

“Watch carefully,” he ordered, as he properly lit up the herb as he inhaled the smoke. He then passed it to you, watching you carefully to make sure you were doing it right. Soon, you got the hang of it.

Even sooner, though, you were a coughing mess.

“Calm it down, there. Don’t take huge puffs. You’re not impressing anyone here, y/n,” he scolded, taking another puff. He did it effortlessly, as if he’d done it for years. (He has.)

You wanted to impress him, though, even though he seemed to not care what you did. You just wanted to prove to him that you were ~cool~.

Well, this ended up in you looking very... uncool.

While Aizawa was chilling with a pretty decent high, you were laid across the bed, starfish style, blasting music in your ears. You were honestly vibing though, so Aizawa didn’t mess with you. For now.

The next day, he definitely teased you a little bit about how totally out of it you were, and how you listened to the same song on loop for 3 hours.

“How did you know that?” You asked, cocking a brow.

“Uh, because your headphones weren’t plugged in?”

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might

He was smoking when you came home, and though he tried to hide it, you smelled it. He acted as if he was just caught as a 17 year old in his mom’s house.

“Uh, no, it’s nothing! I...I don’t do anything like that!” He insisted.

“Toshi, come on. I can smell it,” you smiled. He covered his face.

“Please, please, keep this between you and I...I only do it because it helps with the pain and-”

You cut him off, “ I dont care why you do it, just lemme have some already!” 

Of course, you were just teasing him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “...You smoke?”

You shook your head playfully.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to try some, though!” 

He passed it to you, and you took a way-too-long drag. Instantly, you were doubled over, coughing and hacking your lungs out. 

He patted your back firmly.

“Since this is your first time, you’re gonna cough a little. Just try to take smaller puffs and take deep breaths. There you go.”

Once you recovered, and Yagi got his turn, he handed the joint back to you. It continued to be passed back and forth between you two until it was finally no longer than a centimeter. 

For a moment, you both just chilled out on the couch together, just vibing. That was until Toshinori noticed your goofy, dreamy facial expression. He chuckled to himself, but that was all you needed to become hysterical, laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Seeing you laugh so much of course made Toshi a mess as well, which only added to your decent into utter madness.

Eventually, though, you both calmed down, and Toshi excused himself so that he could go take a quick bath. He often did this whenever he smoked, so that the warm water could aid even more in soothing his aching muscles and creaky bones.

So you were left alone. Totally unattended. At first, everything was totally fine.

However, as you started to actually feel the effects of the herb, you began to panic.

Is this normal? Does everyone else feel like this when they smoke? Oh God, this isn’t right...oh fuck, I’m gonna be the first dumbass to OD on THC...fuck...

Thoughts whizzed past your brain, every single one making sure you knew how totally fucked you were.

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you counted your pulse with two fingers on your wrist, but you coulnd’t find a pulse.

oh fuck...i’m probably going to pass out any minute now...it’s all over...

Images of your final goodbyes to everyone you loved flashed just behind your eyes.

“How’re you holding up, pumpkin?” asked Toshi, coming back from the bath, in a robe and his golden hair still damp.

You looked at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Toshi...I’m...I’m dying...I love you, okay?” you murmured. He would have laughed, all except he saw the genuine fear in your eyes. 

He sat down next to you, surrounding you with all of his lanky limbs. 

“You’re not dying, honey. What you’re feeling right now is totally normal, I promise. Take some nice, deep breaths for me. Come on. There you go. Good.”

He cradled you there for a good while, until he felt your tense muscles finally slacken, and your breathing evened out.

Toshi made a mental note to never let you smoke that much ever again, guilt pinching at his sides.

Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu

You had taken an edible cookie from your friend. She told you it was just a small bit in there, just enough for you to feel something.

You decided to be modest, eating just half of the cookie. You didn’t notice any effects, and out of sheer boredom you decided to go ahead and eat the rest of it. No harm in that, right?

Well, an hour later, it kicked in. You were expecting to feel something interesting, but you definately weren’t expecting anything like this at all. 

Everything seemed so far away. Even your breathing sounded like it was coming down a long corridor and echoing to your ears. You could feel your soul swimming in your body. 

Fatgum, who you lived with, luckily finished his hero duties early, and walked into the house joyfully as usual.  He called out your name. You didn’t reply.

His large footsteps could be heard, but you were too busy thinking about how weird breathing sounds to notice. 

Fatgum soon found you collapsed on the bathroom floor, face pressed against the cool tile.

Immediately, he propped you up against the wall, looking into your eyes with great concern.

“What did you take? Y/n, look at me. What did you take?” 

You lazily looked at him, your face completely serious. As serious as it could be, anyway.

“...i...it was...edible...” you mumbled out. As soon as he understood, he was laughing hysterically.

“s..stop...s not funny...” you grumbled, punching him in the gut. 

“Alright, alright... let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel much better once you wake up,” he smiled, picking you up and bringing you into the bedroom. 

You quickly were comforted by the warm, heavy comforter. Fatgum took a moment to look at you in your groggy state, trying his best to hold back a laugh. It was so painfully obvious that you’d never done anything like this in your life. His only regret was not being around to witness your ascent into cloud 9.

Soon, though, you had drifted into dreamland.

Hizashi Yamada

You locked yourself in your bathroom, sneakily lighting up the joint you bought off of your friend. Your boyfriend was in his room, playing Fortnite or some shit, and frankly, you were embarrassed to smoke in front of him. You knew that he’d definately find something to roast you about, and he was relentless.

A couple minutes after you lit up, though, the door was basically busted down.

“HEY, HEY! You better be planning on sharing some of that!” yelled Hizashi, his hand already out and waiting. He still had his headset on, but you saw with relief that his mic was turned off. You passed it to him.

“Augh! Where the hell didja get this weak shit, y/n? Nah, this ain’t gonna cut it,” he complained, putting it out. 

“Hey! I got that from my friend, dude! What the hell?” you frowned. Before you could be too mad at the waste, though, Hizashi pulled out a small wooden box from under his bed. Opening it, he revealed his stash of entirely too much pot.

You covered your mouth, stifiling a laugh. How the fuck could you have not smelled it? 

Within five minutes, he’d rolled up a blunt, and was passing it to you, already lit. 

It was gone after a little over half an hour, and you could already feel the effects. Your eyes were dry, your stomach craving junk food, and your brain craving chill vibes.

He returned to his game, unbothered but his volume definately toned down about 5 notches. He was a lot more chill than you’d ever seen him act, ever.

You found your way into the kitchen.

Once his game was over, he met you in there. You were in front of the fridge, pulling out thing after thing. By the time he’d gotten to you, you had eaten half a jar of pickles, three pieces of cake (with your bare hands), drank a bunch of soda, and you were headed for the chips that were sitting idly on the top of the fridge.

“oh, God...what the fuck are ya up to, dude?” he groaned. He did not want to deal with this mess.

You grinned at him.  “I dunno, maan... look dude could you just get me these up here? please bro...” you giggled. He sighed dramatically, taking them.

However, instead of handing them over to you, with your dirty little fingers, he ate them.

“stoppp, bro, please lemme get some!” you pouted. He acted as if he couldn’t hear you, leaving the kitchen. You followed after him, kicking him in the shins. 

Still, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hizashi, come on, maaannnn!” 

He laid himself on the bed, covering himself with blankets. He pulled out his phone, calling you.  “Y/n, I miss you so much, man. Come chill out!” he spoke into the phone, trying his best not to break the act. You were absolutely furious at this point, punching at him.

“I’m right here, you doughnut!!” you groaned.  Dramatically sighing, Hizashi frowned, “I really wish y/n was here to sesh with me...” all while still eating the chips. You jumped on top of him. 

Finally, you caught him off gaurd, grabbed the chips, and locked yourself back up in the bathroom. 

This time, though, he just left you be. 

[btsmosphere]

Crossfire | KTH

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 5.4k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: violence, swearing, drugs, guns, blood, injury (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: Thanks everyone for the reception of part 1!! I couldn’t have asked for more! I don’t have much more to add except an apology if you are a medical professional because I am definitely not and I am sure there are mistakes so I hope you can excuse that hehe

You stared at the empty glass beside you.

Once again, you swallowed. The light from the window was the only slight indication of the time, though you still had little clue. Possibly midday, possibly later… or possibly earlier. A sigh escaped you. At least you knew it was daytime.

But that gave you no more idea of how long you would be waiting for Taehyung to come back. Presumably, he was at college, since you were pretty sure it was a Monday, but he really could be anywhere.

And you were thirsty.

So far, the pain that remained in your side had kept you in the bed since you had woken up alone, once again with daylight streaming in. Some snacks and a glass of water had been left on the stand.

Your hope of going back to sleep was pretty much non-existent since it was your thirst that had woken you up just a minute ago, and it still hadn’t been resolved. Licking your dry lips once more, you finally braced yourself and heaved your body from the mattress with a groan.

Glass in hand, you padded down the stairs, pain in your side still constant but not overwhelming. All you needed was a drink, then you could collapse again for more rest.

Your soft footsteps down the hall were the only sound in the house. Lazily, your eyes trailed along the rug that led to the kitchen doorway, and soon your bare feet met the cool tiles. As you turned left slightly to move around the island, your head lifted.

Then your heart stopped.

A man stood in the living room. Facing you.

And he was wearing all black.

Below you, your feet acted of their own accord, ungluing themselves from the floor to stumble back, but the man moved faster. Without hesitation, his hands had found your collar and your head slammed against the wall, cutting off the cry in your throat.

“Who are you?” he growled, but the pain erupting in your side as he pressed against you drowned everything out.

How did they find me?

Desperately, you blinked away the sparks in your vision, the hands getting tighter on your neck. Then you felt the glass in your hand.

Just like last time, your hand lifted, preparing to strike, but it was intercepted easily by a strong arm and pressed back against the wall above your head, glass slipping from your fingers. The man’s one remaining hand on your neck pushed as the glass shattered by your feet, but you still struggled to gasp for air, your body squirming pointlessly.

“Nice try,” he grunted, face now closer to yours as he fought your thrashing, “now what the fuck-“

Suddenly, the pressure disappeared as your knee came up, hitting him hard between the legs, leaving you both reeling. You felt so light now, shaking as you pushed at him, taking your chance to dart from his hold.

But you barely made two steps before the grip on your wrist was back. Fighting with all your might against him, you resisted as he tried to pull you back. Suddenly, you were thrown off balance as he stopped, using the force you were pulling with to topple you both to the floor with a grunt. His large frame fell on top of yours while your shoulder collided harshly with the corner of the coffee table, tipping the whole thing over with your combined weight. You cried out in pain, eyes screwing shut.

This was it. You could only fight someone off so many times.

Though the man was breathing heavily, he pinned you down effortlessly, forearm pressed over your neck. All you could do was choke and splutter, a tidal wave of pain engulfing you from the jostling to your wound and the way your attacker was constricting it, all mingling with the burning of your lungs-

A crash came from the doorway.

“Yoongi!”

Loud footsteps pounded towards you and then you were free, chest suddenly expanding with a rush of air that felt like knives down your throat. Gasping and hacking, you rolled over, hand clutching at your side automatically.

In front of you, Taehyung had his arms wrapped around the man in black, constricting him as the two struggled together.

“Hey, man, chill out!” he was yelling, “What the fuck!”

“Who the hell is-“

“Fuck- shit- stop it, what have you-“

“She was in your house!”

“I know her!”

Taehyung finally succeeded in shutting the man up, and now he was shoving him roughly behind him as he stumbled forwards and fell to his knees where you were still trying to breathe.

“Y/N?” his voice was urgent as his hands helped you sit up, eyes scanning your face and neck, then your side. You let him remove your hand where it covered the wound.

“Yoongi, what were you thinking?” Taehyung spat, not turning around as he took in the bloodied bandages.

Warily, you looked up at your attacker, Yoongi, who was now frozen behind Taehyung. He looked back at you, eyes wide.

“Dude, I just came by with those pills you wanted so bad, you didn’t tell me anyone was gonna be in your house…”

“But you don’t choke someone first and ask questions later,” Taehyung’s eyes were trained on his hand resting on the carpet, though he tilted his face half towards Yoongi, his jaw clenched tight, “she’s who those fucking pills are for.”

Tae looked back up at your face, his eyebrows pulled together, watching as you breathed deeper and slower, still coughing a bit. Other than that it was silent for a moment.

“I-I’m sorry man,” Yoongi stuttered, “do you want them then?“

“You can get some fucking water and bandages, okay? And then the pills.”

Once Yoongi had retreated, you stood on shaking legs with Taehyung’s help, depositing yourself on the sofa. Until Taehyung drew the curtains with a snap, you hadn’t even noticed they were still open.

“You shouldn’t have been up, I told you to rest,” he grumbled as he walked back over to you, stopping to right the coffee table on the way.

“I was just coming to get some water,” you said, voice a little raspy, “I’ve stayed upstairs all day.”

Sighing, he opened his mouth, but then his eyes slid to the side and he shut it again. Following his gaze, you watched Yoongi emerge from the kitchen, bandages and a first aid bag tucked under one arm and a glass of water in the other hand.

For a moment, he paused, but under Taehyung’s glare he moved, lowering his head sheepishly. He handed you the water with the air of a child forced to say sorry and shake hands, not meeting your eyes, before dumping the rest on the coffee table and slinking over to the chair by the window. In the corner of your eye as you took a gulp of water, you saw him push his hood down to reveal dyed grey hair.

Ignoring him, Taehyung grabbed a bandage and began carefully unwrapping the one already around your abdomen. Yoongi’s eyes widened. With the bandage off, you could see blood leaking from the wound, though the sticky strips Taehyung had used to close it had held up.

Pursing his lips, Tae balled up the old bandage so the clean parts were outside, and pressed it into your side. The hiss of pain you released made him falter.

“Yoongi, pills,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Yoongi, who had been keeping his eyes well averted, started and began to dig in his pockets. Eventually, he threw two bags over to Tae.

You eyed them suspiciously as Tae placed one down and fished inside the other with his fingers. The clear plastic bags were the kind you had only seen discarded in hedges or alleyways, where you would expect to see white powder clinging to the corners. These were a little bigger and only contained pills, but you were still hesitant as Tae placed one in your hand and told you to take it.

“It’s a painkiller,” he told you when you still didn’t move, “I didn’t have any strong enough here which is why I got Yoongi to bring some in.”

Biting your lip, you opened your fingers to see the seemingly harmless white pill resting there. Probably on purpose, Taehyung’s hand shifted, making you wince as the bandage dug into your wound.

Lips curling, you took a deep breath and put your palm over your mouth, tipping your head back to swallow it.

Satisfied, Tae let you take over putting pressure on the bandage, pushing his hands on his knees to stand up. Yoongi stayed hunched in his chair as Taehyung picked up some things that lay by the door, shoving them roughly into the grocery bag they must have spilled from.

“Is this why you asked us to meet, then?” a mumble came from Yoongi as soon as the shopping bag’s rustling died away.

“Yeah,” was all he got in reply as Taehyung stood up without facing him.

“Dude!” he called, springing from his chair and causing Taehyung to stop in the middle of the room. “aren’t you gonna explain?”

Yoongi threw an arm towards you, followed by a glare.

“You can wait to hear it with the others.”

As Yoongi was opening his mouth again, a phone buzzed, making the two boys pause. The buzzing didn’t stop, so Yoongi pulled his phone from his hoodie, turning himself away from Taehyung. That was when a second ringtone started up. Yoongi glanced back at Taehyung as he raised his phone to his ear, while the other boy hurriedly put down his bag and reached for his too.

Both of them wore identical faces of concentration as they listened to voices on the other line. Taehyung hung up first, still watching Yoongi who was talking in a low, serious voice to the other person, before glancing at you.

Eyes connecting with yours, he started forwards, grasping your elbow and leading you with him. He scooped up the grocery bag, then marched quickly through the kitchen, not slowing as he collected a knife, then led you to the foot of the stairs.

Yoongi appeared in the living room doorway, and again him and Taehyung shared a look.

“We have to go,” Taehyung said, voice urgent and eyes flicking between yours and the door, “take these and stay upstairs. I’ll be back later.”

And with that, he thrust both the bag of food and the knife into your arms, waiting only for your perplexed nod before him and Yoongi walked out, door falling shut heavily behind them.

‘Later.’ What were you supposed to infer by ‘later?’

When Taehyung had said that, you certainly hadn’t imagined waiting around for him until rain started to fall and the light was fading outside the window.

Despite having no water, you had dutifully stayed upstairs ever since Taehyung and Yoongi’s abrupt departure, even though that had been the reason for you venturing downstairs in the first place. At least there was some soda among his shopping. But you had learned from your ordeal: if it happened again, you might not be lucky enough for it to be another false alarm.

Honestly, it hadn’t felt much like a false alarm, you thought as you checked your side again. Since the boys had left, you had simply sat on Taehyung’s bed, applying pressure with the wad of bandages from earlier. Now though, the pain had subsided as promised and the bleeding had stopped. It hadn’t been severe at all, but there was still some blood to clean up.

Gingerly standing up, fingers wrapping around the kitchen knife, you padded across to the door and cracked it open, peering around the darkened house cautiously. Though you weren’t going downstairs, if anyone were there you would be on full view from the landing. For a second you just listened.

Silence.

As quietly as you could, you tiptoed the short distance to the bathroom.

Once you set the knife down, you turned on the tap, doing your best to keep it down, not even turning the water up enough to drown out the rain pattering against the windows. Not wanting to get blood on more of Taehyung’s belongings, you scrubbed at it using just water and your hands.

A click came from downstairs.

Jumping, you turned towards the door. Barely daring to breathe, you shut the tap off using your elbow, given that your hands were still covered in your own diluted blood.

Pressing your ear up to the door confirmed you weren’t imagining the sound; instead, you were greeted with multiple sets of footsteps, making your blood run cold. Not caring any more about the blood, your fingers turned the lock. From your spot by the door, your eyes rested where the knife lay.

Whoever was in the house wasn’t shouting, though. The voices seemed agitated, but it was not the same as when Shinhyuk’s gang had stormed your apartment a couple of days ago. Either way, you stayed put, not wanting to risk anything.

But then someone came up the stairs.

You held your breath beside the door, stubbornly ignoring your instinct to run. If you stayed here, you would be able to hear where the intruder was headed.

The steps stopped close by and you heard the bedroom door’s soft creak.

“Y/N?”

You pressed your head closer to the door. Someone had spoken, but it was quiet, muffled by the two doors between you.

“Y/N!”

This time, it was a shout and there was no mistaking it. Taehyung.

Letting out a breath, you released the lock again and stepped out from the bathroom, coming face to face with a very panicked Taehyung dashing out of the empty bedroom. Seeing you, he stopped in his tracks.

And so did you.

His eyes widened as he heaved a sigh, shoulders relaxing.

You, on the other hand, froze, eyes growing for a different reason.

“Taehyung, what the- what happened to you?!” you finally moved towards him.

Blood was streaked down his face, covering one side from his forehead to his chin. Horrified, you brought a hand to his cheek, but hesitated at his slight flinch.

“It’s just a scratch,” he murmured, eyes fixed on your hand as you lowered it, embarrassed.

Staring at him incredulously, you searched for the source of the blood and found a gash on his forehead. Admittedly, it didn’t look huge or life-threatening, but you grabbed Taehyung by the hand anyway and dragged him to the bathroom.

Below you, the other voices continued, but between you and Taehyung it was silent as you stopped in front of the sink.

“Um… can I use one of your towels please?”

Given the amount of blood on Tae’s face, you weren’t sure if you would be able to clean him up without one.

“Of course,” he nodded, frowning at the blood on your hands, “you can use whatever you need, you know that, right?”

“Thanks,” you chuckled nervously as you picked up a towel and turned on the water, “I’ve already had some soda from your groceries, so that’s a relief.”

“Just soda?” he asked.

Distractedly, you nodded, though you were now focussing on wiping his face. He watched you as you held his head steady with one hand, the other gentle as possible while you scrubbed away the sticky substance.

“Um, the boys are here,” he waved his hand at the door behind him, “and we still need to eat, so… would you like to join us?”

Although you had only cleaned about half, you paused your efforts to stare at him.

“The boys? Do you mean…”

“Uh, yeah,” he scratched the back of his head, “I mean, Jungkook isn’t here yet but I could introduce you…”

“Sure,” was the only response you could muster, ducking your head as your rinsed the towel in your hands.

“Hey, I know it might be weird,” Taehyung spoke, “and, well, it’s already weird, but we have some things to talk about that you might wanna hear.”

As you approached the cut on his head, you slowed your hand, chewing your lip in concentration and only affording him an absent nod. Another moment of silence passed as you carefully pushed aside his damp hair and cleaned his forehead around the cut.

Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave your face as you finished up, even as you lowered the bloodied towel and stepped back. Slowly, your eyes traced down his face from his wound to meet his gaze. In your hand, your fingers twisted the fabric of the towel, but you didn’t look away.

“Thanks,” Taehyung’s voice barely touched the silence.

A yelp from below you did, however.

Dipping his head, Taehyung grabbed the towel from your hand and rubbed it vigorously over his hair before turning to chuck it in the bathtub.

“Jin can patch this up downstairs,” he waved a hand towards his forehead as he opened the door.

Following him out and through the house, the voices downstairs grew clearer. Peering in through the living room door, you spotted Yoongi curled into the same chair he was in earlier. Just as his eyes snapped up to meet yours, you saw another figure move around the coffee table, but Taehyung led you down the corridor to the kitchen before you could make out more than a silhouette.

The smell of takeout drifting from the end of the hall barely made you relax. Rubbing your palms over the borrowed clothes you had on, you had no more time to panic before you were through the door. Sure enough, the kitchen island was packed with takeaway containers, as yet unopened.

“Taehyung-ah,” the approaching voice at least belonged to someone you could identify, Jung Hoseok, who was walking to the sink, “these were lying around.”

He gestured to something on the counter as he stuck his hands under a stream of water, but your eyes never followed his gesture. By now, you would have thought the sight of bloodstained hands would become normal for you. Apparently not.

Swallowing, you averted your eyes. And then regretted it.

Two guns sat on another part of the counter. You had never actually laid eyes on one before, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Then something was in front of your face, being shaken. Blinking, you found Taehyung holding out a bag, red pills jostling inside.

“Take one, I forgot to ask you earlier,” he passed them over, “they’re for anaemia. You lost a lot of blood the other day.”

Figuring that the last pill he offered you had worked, you didn’t bother debating, taking the bag off him and swallowing one as you rounded the corner after him. The splash of the tap continued behind you as you took in the four bedraggled boys in the living room.

Yoongi was there as before, but three others were on the sofa: Jimin you recognised in the middle from his orange hair, though he wasn’t facing you. Instead he leaned towards the man on his left, who was bent over, blocking your view of his face. The man nearest you had his hand resting on Jimin’s back, watching with a grave expression.

Another yelp escaped Jimin.

Peering around Taehyung, your eyes widened. At his thigh Jimin’s trousers were torn and darkened, wet not just with rain. The man tending to him reached out a hand to the coffee table, strewn with bandages, gauzes and pills, but as he glanced around his eyes finally rested on you.

There they lingered, his hand static, still hovering in mid-air.

Uncomfortable, you stared back at the wide eyes underneath his dark brows, ignoring his dripping hair and watched as his mouth opened, eyes sliding to Taehyung in front of you.

“How is he?” Taehyung ignored the tension completely, instead nodding to Jimin.

“F-fine. He’ll live,” the man stuttered, head swivelling back to his patient.

“Good,” Taehyung nodded. By this time all eyes were on him. Or you.

“Y/N, this is Jin, Jimin, Namjoon and Hoseok,” Taehyung nodded to each man in turn, starting from Jin nearest the window back to Hoseok coming through from the kitchen, “you already know Yoongi. Food?”

Namjoon stood from his spot, nodding succinctly at you before heading to collect the meals. Taehyung swept his arm to the vacated seat, urging you to sit down.

Before long, all the boys bar Taehyung were seated and cradling food containers, as well as you. Until now you hadn’t realised how hungry you were, but with all eyes on you, you found you couldn’t start. Beside you, Taehyung was leaning against the arm of the sofa. His hands fidgeted together as he cleared his throat.

“This is Y/N,” he said, “and she’s why I wanted to meet up… I don’t want to mention this on our phones since there’s always a security risk, but she came here on Saturday night because Shinhyuk raided her place. We’re pretty sure her dad was working for him, but she escaped and they might be looking for her.”

Working for him.

It sure sounded real now, but you were adjusting to that. Chancing a look up from the food in your lap showed you that you were still the subject of everyone’s attention. Across from you, Namjoon was the first to move, shifting his gaze to Tae.

“How long is she staying?”

Taehyung glanced at you, his brow furrowed.

“As long as she needs to… Shinhyuk won’t just give up.”

“And you think they won’t find her here?”

“If they look for her, they’ll check her friends’ places, not here. We don’t know each other that well,” Namjoon opened his mouth again, but Taehyung pressed on, “I’m still going to college, no one will notice anything to make them suspicious.”

“I’m just saying, he knows who we are,” Namjoon gestured around the room, “so…”

“Where else would you suggest?” Taehyung bit back, eliciting a sigh from the blond who raked his hand through his still damp hair, slicking it back. The others, though still listening, had begun quietly to eat.

After a beat, Taehyung angled his body towards you.

“Today, Shinhyuk attacked one of our deals…” a quick glance at the rest of the boys, “we associate with people he wants to push out of the city, but he’s never attacked so far inside our territory before.”

You blinked.

“Why are you telling her this?” Yoongi had straightened in his chair, leaning forward with a glare.

“This happened just after her place got raided. Shinhyuk’s trying to make a point.”

“What does she have to do with what happened today?”

“Yoongi,” the stern voice belonged to Jin, who leaned forward, placing his food down on the table. Then he glanced at Namjoon, “I think Shinhyuk is stepping things up. Tonight felt like something… serious.”

Namjoon slumped back in his seat.

“It was a declaration of war.”

Even you felt the gravity of his statement.

“I don’t get what gave him the confidence,” Jimin piped up beside you, “like, we thought it was coming, but never this soon.”

Keeping your eyes down, you slowly took a mouthful of food. You frowned down at your takeaway container. This was a lot to take in, and the infamous Shinhyuk was beginning to scare you more and more. As much as you tried, your thoughts wouldn’t stop drifting to how your dad was right now, especially if he was with Shinhyuk.

If he was still alive.

The food in your mouth turned to cardboard, and you swallowed hurriedly, abandoning the container beside Jin’s.

Around you, their conversation carried on.

“I was right on top of him when we chased them off,” you only payed half a mind to Hoseok’s frustration, “and then he just… disappeared.”

“Maybe Jungkook will find out where he went…”

The carpet you stared at was out of focus, the words swimming through your mind. A sudden attack, an effortless escape, a war…

A cold droplet hit your cheekbone, your eye twitching in reflex. Startled from your stupor, your head jerked around to find Tae’s dark eyes trained on you, despite the conversation happening around you two.

Just as he reached up to push back the offending dripping hair, a knock sounded through the drumming of raindrops.

Taehyung’s eyes darted away for the briefest of moments, freeing you to turn your body towards the sound. Jin was already leaving the room.

Yoongi had got to his feet, and now a force pulled at your shoulder, lifting you from the couch and launching you into the momentary blur of headrush. As the spots danced away, you felt your back pressed against Taehyung, who too was standing, hand gripping your shoulder.

So were Hoseok and Namjoon.

Who were they expecting?

Only one name came to mind. The disappearing gang lord, come to disappear with you. Holding your breath, you saw yourself fighting again, losing, and where would he take you then?

“It’s just Jungkook,” Jin’s voice called from the door.

Taehyung’s hand released its pressure as the latch clunked open in the hall.

Then it hit you.

“Tae, what if…” you turned, looking up at him as Jungkook’s footsteps entered behind you, “what if Shinhyuk’s using my place? I mean, I don’t know what ‘territory’ it would be in, but…”

Still just inches from you, Tae tilted his head, mouth falling slack in realisation.

“Who’s this?”

The new voice startled you both, and Tae hurriedly took a step back and hauled a smile onto his face for Jungkook. Turning just as fast, you came face to face with another dark haired man, dressed in black with his matching hair dripping onto his shoulders and the carpet. Quickly, you flashed a smile and bobbed your head at him.

Then you saw it.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook,” Tae sauntered to his side, clapping him on the shoulder in spite of its wetness, and turning to grin at you.

But you were frozen.

Jungkook wore a loose t shirt which hung off him, and most importantly, off his collarbone, revealing to all the world a symbol inked there. A star-like symbol. One you remembered very well.

“Y/N?”

You dragged your eyes from Jungkook’s tattoo, finding both him and Taehyung looking back at you expectantly, Tae’s arm still draped around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“Sorry…” you breathed.

“Come on, the boy needs to eat!” the exclamation came from Jin, who ruffled Jungkook’s hair as he walked past to the kitchen, sending drops of water flying out and causing Taehyung to duck, laughing while cursing after Jin.

Grinning, Jungkook walked past you to lean on the counter and chat with Jin. You inhaled as he was close to you, shoulders tensing.

“What is it?” you gasped at Taehyung’s voice at your ear.

Though you angled your body back towards him, you couldn’t quite take your eyes off Jungkook, as if he was a spider you were trying to walk around in the shower. You took a second to scan the room, finding the others were back to sitting and eating.

“That… that tattoo…” you whispered, making Taehyung lean down to hear you, “that’s the same one the man in my house had…”

“Shit,” your full attention returned to Tae then; was Jungkook really a threat? “I definitely should have warned you.”

Wait.

“Warned me?”

“Yeah, he, uh,” Taehyung’s hand scratched his head above his ear, glancing over your shoulder at the subject of your conversation, “he’s our double agent. Tips our associates off about big shipments and that kind of stuff since he’s managed to get amongst Shinhyuk’s lot. Gets us money, territory and pisses the dickhead off when he loses his deals.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. Inside your chest, your heart slowed and you sat down with a breath out.

“So,” Namjoon spoke up. Jungkook’s smile stayed on his face as he left Jin to take his place on the sofa, already shoving food in his mouth.

Namjoon said no more, making the boy pause.

“…so?” he said thickly, already preparing for the next bite before he had finished the first.

“How did tonight happen?”

“Ah,” Jungkook tipped his head and lowered his food, swallowing hard, “he has a new place.”

Both you and Taehyung were instantly on alert from this statement.

“That wouldn’t happen to be at Central Hill apartment building, would it?” Taehyung said.

“How do you know?” Jungkook frowned.

“Floor fourteen, number 5?”

Jungkook nodded, “Why?”

“That’s my place,” you spoke quietly, but in the silence of the room you were heard loud and clear. You bit your lip against the unexpected sting in your eyes.

A hand that must be Taehyung’s landed softly on your back.

Across the room, Namjoon cleared his throat and you were glad for him becoming the magnet for the boys’ eyes again.

“That’s way inside our patch, no wonder he disappeared so easily. At least we know about it for next time, but-“

“Wait, listen Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook interrupted, “I don’t think we can do anything about this…”

“What do you-?” Namjoon stared at him in disbelief, “he’s getting out of hand, we need any advantage we can get.”

“But I’m worried about my cover being blown. Don’t you think I would have told you if I knew he was going to attack so suddenly? He didn’t tell me. He might be questioning whether he can trust me, so I’m gonna have to lay low for a bit. If it becomes clear you guys know where his new base is, it’s gonna be obvious he’s got a leak.”

All eyes rested on Namjoon, who was digesting the information with his tongue stuck into his cheek.

“Fine. If that’s best for the long run.”

You were sure you had whiplash from how fast the bangtan boys could dissolve from serious discussion about their frankly terrifying business into raucous laughter and casual jokes. It was still dark outside when you found yourself surrounded by empty food tubs and exhausted men, squashed up on the couch between Jimin and Taehyung with a faint smile at the corners of your mouth.

Beside you, Taehyung’s low laughter seemed to rumble through you due to your proximity.

This was strange.

The strangest thing about it, however, was how… not strange it felt. Anyone that had heard of the bangtan boys, yourself included, would have assumed a night with them would entail illegal substances at the very least or perhaps some fighting, but the only reminder of their reputation was the bloodstain on Jimin’s trousers and the guns that were out of sight in the kitchen.

Although you had barely said a word, being the outsider, they had made you smile.

You had learned that Hoseok had infectious laugher and was training as a dancer. Jungkook loved animal crossing and Namjoon was clumsy as hell, but loved reading. Jin could bake, Jimin had a ridiculously sweet personality and even Yoongi had shown to have a sense of humour.

The fun-loving Taehyung he was around these boys, though, was the one you knew first. In fact, it was stranger for you to see him so serious earlier on, despite the fact you couldn’t exactly have claimed to know him well from your previous encounters.

Eventually, they began to trickle out.

When Jimin finally stood up, relieving the pressure from your left-hand side, Jin and Hoseok went with him – Hoseok to drive and Jin with medical instructions – only two were left in the room.

“Well, I should go home too,” Jungkook stood from the sofa as you shifted yourself into Jimin’s vacated spot to give Taehyung more space, “it was, er, good to meet you Y/N.”

You smiled in response.

“Wait, Kookie,” Taehyung stood too, pulling Jungkook aside as the voices faded and left the hallway, “could you do one thing? It won’t blow your cover or anything, just…”

Hesitant though he looked, Jungkook gave a slow nod.

“Y/N? What’s your father’s name?”

“Y/d/N,” you told him, startled, “Y/d/N Y/L/N.”

Taehyung had been watching you, but now turned back.

“Can you find him, Jungkook? So Y/N can know how he’s doing?”

“Sure,” Jungkook agreed quickly when he heard Taehyung’s idea.

Hope that had been dying bloomed again inside you as Jungkook bid you both goodnight again, this time leaving afterwards. Everything may have fallen apart, but that didn’t mean nothing was left.

Stretching an arm out, other hand massaging his shoulder, Taehyung returned his attention to you with a smile.

“You alright?”

Nodding at him, you returned the expression.

“Thank you, Taehyung.”

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[yanagiin]

CANCER

cancer- my chemical romance (covered by 21pilots)

relationship: tsukishima kei x reader

synopsis: she had cancer but he was oblivious to the signs. his last words?

warning: angst, illness, death, swearing, cheating

i don’t know the symptoms for cancer and this is my first fic so pls forgive me for any mistakes

“you have cancer.”

it’s been a week. a week shes known she was sick. sitting on her desk, her face buried into her arms, looking off to the side.

“how do i tell him?”

“tell me what?” y/n visibly flinches at the sudden voice of her boyfriend, kei.

“oh nothing!” she says w a fake smile. how is she supposed to tell him. what was she supposed to tell him. that her hair was falling out? that she was potentially dying? he just shakes off her unusual behavior and sits across from her.

“so are you gonna come by practice later?” he asks her.

“ah i can’t I have uhhh” she trails off, “grocery shopping to do for my mom!” truth is she had a doctors appointment, but he didn’t have to know. she didn’t want to be a burden. since when did she do grocery shopping the tall blonde thought.

this suspicious behavior has become a daily thing, he noticed that she would run off right as the last school bell rings. until one day he saw her get in a car with another guy. so that’s why huh?

hey kei wanna go mall later?

sent at 1:47

said boy stares at the text from his girlfriend. he knew she was cheating so why not have some fun right?

sure

y/n arrives at the mall and she sees girls swarming her boyfriend. she pouts, but doesn’t get jealous as she trusts he won’t do such thing. she waits till the girls leave to approach him. tsukishima has a smirk evident on his face.

“where do you wanna go?”

“can we go to the costumes and cosmetics first?” she says with a smile. the morning of she witnesses the hair already falling out faster than she expected. he shrugs and mentally grins to himself as he sees her smile dropping at his blunt response.

“why do you need wigs? need new hair to look pretty?” his words stung her but she hid her expression.

“why don’t you just tell him?” y/n’s brother said standing at the door way.

“i just want to enjoy the rest of my time with him w/out.”

“but-” he was cut off by his sister walking past him and shutting the door.

“want to walk me home?” she asked. he replied with a shrug, heading towards her house. they got to her driveway when he saw the same car. the same car she got in with another guy.

“oh no he’s still here...” she says with fear when she saw that her brother’s car still in the driveway. fear that he might expose her secret. tsukishima looks at her with disgust, but she was to worried to notice. “you can just drop me here i can get to the door fine! bye kei! love you” she says running to her front door.

it’s been a week, more hair has fallen out, she had gotten permission to wear hats and her hoods from the faculties as they knew about her condition. but her boyfriend has surprisingly not noticed but someone did. his best friend, yamaguchi tadashi.

“are you okay y/n-chan?” the freckled boy asked with a worried visage.

“I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. not even kei” she trusted the boy as if he was her brother. “I have cancer.”

two months ago, she was diagnosed with cancer. but in the last two weeks, tsukishima became more distant. she became worried and went to his practice after school.

“is kei here?” everyone stared at her as if she has grown a third head. hinata then walks up and says something that made her heart drop.

“oh he just left with his girlfriend, who are you?” of course they didn’t know about her. she never went to his practices, she was too busy with her appointments.

“ah okay. sorry for the interruption!” she bows and takes her leave to look for her boyfriend. but stops when she sees the blonde making out and groping a girl from class 1-5. watching as they touch eachother as if they can’t be disrupted by anything. her eyes filling with tears and anger. she walks up to her boyfriend and punch him square on the jaw.

“ow! WHAT THE FUCK” he shifts his attention to his girlfriend that is shaking her hand to rid the pain. the commotion caused the team to come out of the gym. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING YOU SLUT?” he yells at her. she was taken aback. slut? “YEAH DONT THINK I HAVENT SEEN YOU SNEAK AROUND WITH THAT BOY TOY OF YOURS?!”

his insults being cutoff with a slap. the sound resonates through the wind. “FUCK YOU TSUKISHIMA KEI!” with that she runs off to the direction of her house. yamaguchi then steps up.

“ARE YOU FUCKING DUMB?!? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” punching the blond once again and grabbing his collar to bring his face close.

“IM DUMB?! SHES THE WHORE WHO FUCKING CHEATED!”

“SHES NOT CHEATING! GET IT THROUGH YOUR DAMN SKULL! SHE HAS CANCER, BUT YOURE TO DAMN BLIND TO SEE THE SIGNS! SHE COULDNT GO TO OUR PRACTICES BECAUSE HER APPOINTMENTS. DID YOU EVEN NOTICE HER HAIR FALLING OUT? SHE STARTED WEARING HATS AND WIGS BECAUSE YOU CALLED HER UGLY FOR BUYING WIGS! BUT NO. YOU DIDNT NOTICE BECAUSE YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WAS BUSY FUCKING OTHER GIRLS TO NOTICE.”

by this point, the rest of the boys are pulling them apart.

“w-what?” the blond was appalled. she had cancer? the wigs, the hats, coughs and hacks. it made sense now. “b-bu-but who was that guy she rides with?”

“her fucking brother who came back from the states to see her!” yamaguchi shakes the boys off him and starts walking away.

tsukishima starts sprinting to the direction of her house. why didn’t she tell him? how would he have known if she didn’t tell him?

he comes to a stop, when he sees an ambulance drive off from her house. the tall boy knocks on the door to see her mom open the door. “where’s y/n?” her mother starts crying. and he knew.

“let’s go to the hospital” he looks to see y/n’s brother heading down stairs with a coat. the blond nods and gets in the car with the h/c hair male.

“she didn’t want to tell you yanno? she wanted to enjoy the time she had left with you.” the car ride was silent. when they got to the hospital, the two men quickly jumps out and heads to the front desk. as they entered they saw her fragile figure barely holding on. her lips are chapped. her color is fading fast.

it’s been hours when they’ve arrived, she still hasn’t woken up. tsukishima looks at the time and realizes visiting hours are almost over.

“I’ll be back, okay?” leaning over to give her forehead a peck and exits out the door.

but he never went back, he couldn’t stand the view of seeing her so delicate, so pale, so tired. it’s been weeks since he has last seen her. but he remembered that all she wanted was to spend time with him.

putting on his shoes he gets up and heads to the hospital. he arrives at the front desk and requests to visit y/n. he was met with the most dreaded words he never knew he would ever be met with.

“im sorry sir, but it says that she didn’t make it” the lady at the front said.

the day of the rosary came, he didn’t want to face the fact that she was actually gone. tsukishima enters her house and passes the strawberry shortcake he has brought to her mother. in the middle of the rosary he walks up to y/n’s room.

her room was decorated with anime posters and many plants. there was a cork board on the wall, photos of all their dates and her friends. on her desk was a framed selfie of their trip to tokyo. tsukishima resting his chin on her shoulder pouting while she holds up a peace sign with a big smile on her face. next to the picture we’re two dinosaurs. one is a brachiosaurus and the other is a triceratops. she would always say that the two toys were them and always kept the two together.

he picks up the framed picture and takes out the picture. he wanted to remember her. as he was taking out the photo a note slips out. he glances down at the note and read aloud,

“hi kei bae!! if you’re reading this you wanted to keep the photo right? anyways im writing this just in case anything happens to me. oh yeah i have cancer! ta da!! yeah yeah it’s not a good thing but hey, I wanted to spend all my time with you. so pls grab the picture with this and the box under my bed. there should be more photos for you. well i guess this is it. sayonara kei. ♡

-love y/n

he grabs the box under her bed to see all the photos she has take throughout their relationship. what broke him the most was a dinosaur post-it note on the bottom. it read “i love you my dino boy<3”

he never got to say goodbye, he was scared for the closure. he wanted her warmth, her soft lips against his, her angelic laughs, his shoulder to lean on. she was always there for him. his last words to her was not “i love you” or “see you later” he just wanted to hold her in his arms one last time. holding the pictures in his arms, crying his eyes out.

“sayonara y/n♡”

[amateur-authorial-aspirations]

Another short story! It's about the same length as the last one, around 3k words. I don't have a title for this one, though.

Not sure what trigger warnings to add for this but uh it's about a family that's kinda broken and a mom that was very neglectful, and there's stuff about sickness and hospitals. Oh and food.

~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing I wanted to inherit from my mother was the recipe for her chicken soup.

My mom—well, she did her best with us, I guess, but her best mostly involved working long nights at a lousy job and occasionally showing up at school events to clap for us. The rest of the time, she was either drinking Bud Lights out on the porch or passed out from some combination of exhaustion and intoxication, sprawled on her bed or wherever she happened to collapse. I'd put a blanket over her, sometimes, but usually I was too busy cooking dinner, or helping my younger siblings with their homework, or doing one of the million other things that wouldn't get done unless I did them.

The one thing she always got right, though, was when I was sick. She had crazy good hearing, like an owl or something, and if I so much as sneezed, in an instant she'd have me tucked into bed and a pot of chicken soup on the stove. That soup—dear God, my mouth still waters just thinking about it. It was like she took carrots and celery and a chicken straight from the dirt of a farm somewhere and cooked it in, I don't know, the tears of an angel. A little salty, and just heavenly. And the whole time I was sick, whether puking my guts up in the bathroom or just sniffling a little, she was the perfect mother—she picked Brett and Ashley up from school, cooked three meals a day, helped them with their homework, everything.

Even years and decades after I'd moved as far from her as I could get, whenever I was sick, I'd get an awful hankering for that chicken soup. I'd whine and moan and throw a feeble, snotty tantrum until someone made some for me, and my husband tried, bless his soul, but it just wasn't the same. Sometimes I'd try, too, once I was feeling better, but it was never as good as my mom's, no matter what I did. I thought about calling and asking her once or twice, usually when a bout of illness coincided with a fight with my kids. I'd be aching and shivering, feeling bad enough about my own parenting that I could almost forgive her, and when the craving hit, I'd start to reach for the phone, but—

No. I'd worked so hard to get her out of my head, and I didn't know if I could do it all over again.

I remember it was raining the day Ashley called with the news. I could tell she was upset right away, but when she told me why, I almost dropped the phone.

"Hello?" she said, her voice choked. "Kathy, you still there?"

"Yeah," I rasped, "I'm here. I… I don't know what to say. I mean, cancer? God. Is she okay?"

"Yes. For now, at least. We don't know how long she'll stay that way, though."

"I don't know what to say," I repeated. It was true; I felt like someone had stuck my brain in a freezer.

"Say you'll come see her. And before you say no—"

"What? No. Absolutely not."

"Before you say no, think about how much it would mean to her. And to me. To all of us. We could finally be a family again, you know? One last time."

"I'm not putting myself through that so you can get our family picture taken, Ash."

"Come on, Kathy. I know you're mad at her, but—"

"I'm not mad. I just don't owe her anything."

"But—"

"And I don't owe you anything, either."

"Okay, that is not—"

I hung up. Then I threw my phone at the couch. It rang a moment later, but I just took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and walked out of the room, the tinny music fading as I closed the door behind me. Then it started again.

Brett called about an hour later. I let it ring.

He understood a little better than Ashley, I think, but she was his little sister, the baby of the family. I was sure he'd side with her.

But, after a long talk with my husband and a couple days of stewing, I decided to go after all. I might not have owed my mother anything, but I owed it to myself to not leave any questions hanging. Besides, if she was really dying… it felt bad, felt heartless, to refuse to visit an old, sick woman.

Brett met me at the airport, a box of chocolate in hand.

"Nate with the kids?" he asked.

"Yeah. Those for Mom?"

"No," he said with a small chuckle, "for you."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Honestly, Kathy, you're a saint. I don't know if I'd have come, if I were you."

"You did come, though."

"Yeah, but it wasn't the same for me. Or Ashley. You know that better than I do."

"Well, I'm not here for Mom, anyway."

It was Brett's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, I'm here to see her, but it's for me."

"And for Ashley?"

"And kinda for Ashley."

We both laughed a little. Then he handed me the chocolate and started loading my suitcases into the trunk of his car.

When we pulled up to the house, Ashley ran out to greet me, but Brett pulled her aside as I went around to the back of the car. I couldn't hear what he said, but her face sank. She nodded tightly and went back inside.

I tugged my suitcase up over the curb and pulled it down a concrete pathway that cut through calf-height grass and weeds to the front of Ashley's one-story, vinyl-sided house that had been painted in a shade of yellow so bright it turned my stomach, though I'm sure my sister thought it "sunny" or some such thing. Part of the roof was sagging on one side.

Looking at that house, part of me couldn't help feeling guilty. I mean, I wasn't rich, and Ashley and her family certainly weren't starving, but it was hard not to draw comparisons to my own home, spacious and immaculate and halfway across the country, and wonder if there wasn't more I should be doing. Not that she'd accept assistance if I offered it; if anything, she'd just get angry, and things between us were already so tense... but, still. I didn't think there would ever come a day that I saw her struggling and didn't want to help.

Lost in thought, I walked in the door and headed straight for the rear of the house, almost passing the small living room on the right, but then a quiet cough sounded. I whipped my head toward the noise, freezing in place as I took in the hospital bed that been set up where a couch used to be. Took in its white-haired occupant.

After a moment, I cleared my throat. "Hi, Mom."

She looked so tiny and fragile lying there, her feet barely reaching halfway down the bed, her skin pale and papery. Nothing like the hard-drinking, loud-talking woman who had stomped through my childhood with the force of a bulldozer, hurtling herself headfirst at anything that dared to stand in her way. No, there was no sign of that woman in this dimly lit room that smelled of sickness and floral air freshener.

"Hi, Kathy," said this person I no longer recognized. "It's so good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same," I blurted before I could think better of it, but she just laughed, a dry, gravelly chuckle that ended in a hacking cough.

"Well," she said after a minute, when she was breathing normally again, "I can't say I was expecting much better, after everything I put you through. And I guess that's what I get for smoking so damn much."

"Wait." My face screwed up in confusion. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. I tried to quit for years, but it never stuck until I got pregnant with you. I guess knowing I had someone else depending on me was the push I needed."

I let out a sharp bark of laughter, once again reacting without thinking and immediately wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. Not because I hadn't meant it; I had, but it wasn't like me, to be so sarcastic and mean-spirited. This tired, bitter woman was just as foreign to me as the little old lady she was mocking.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm sure you thought that was a heart-warming story about one time you actually did take care of me, but that's the thing, right? You did get it right sometimes. Which means the rest of the time… that was a choice. And I could forgive you for being weak or sick or crazy, but you weren't any of those things. Like, when I was sick, you were always so good. And I'd eat your chicken soup, and I'd think, maybe this time. Maybe this time she'll keep it up. But then I'd get better, and you'd go right back to leaving us to fend for ourselves, and it would hurt even worse because I knew what it felt like to be taken care of. You know I've got kids now, right? I'm sure Ashley's told you. So I know what it feels like, when you're tired down to your bones and you don't know how to keep going. But still, every single day, I choose to go on anyway, to be there for my kids, because I love them too much not too. So either you just didn't love us enough, or you did, and you still chose not to take care of us. I don't know which it is, or which would be worse. But I know I can't forgive you."

The words had all come out in a rush, as if some long-stoppered bottle of feelings inside me had suddenly come pouring from my lips, getting bigger and angrier as I went, and I had to stop for a second, take a deep breath in, let it out slowly.

"So," I went on, more calmly now, "I'll be here for a week. We'll play nice, for Ashley and her kids, and because we are civilized people. And I really am sorry about what you're going through. But when I leave, I don't want to hear from you again, and I don't want you bothering Ashley about me."

With that, I turned on my heel, not waiting for a reply, and marched down the hall to the guest room.

Only after I closed the door and collapsed onto the bed did I think about who else might have been in the house. I really hoped Ashley's kids hadn't overheard my tirade. Or Ashley herself, for that matter. I didn't like this nasty streak my mother brought out in me, and whatever my feelings for her, being a good sister and aunt was more important.

But when I emerged a little while later, cool and composed and determined to stay that way, I found everyone gathered around the big wooden table in the kitchen, Ashley presiding over it all with a wooden spoon and a hearty laugh.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me in the doorway. "Kathy! Come in, come over here." She was beaming as I made my way past the treacherous tangle of cooking implements brandished by small hands to where she stood at the stove, stirring a sizzling pan of vegetables. "So," she said in a low voice, one that no one else would hear over the general hubbub, "things went well with Mom? Brett seemed to think there'd be some… unpleasantness, but she said you guys talked? Worked things out?"

I cast a wary glance to where my mom sat at the table between Brett and Ashley's husband Blake, but her attention was fully occupied by her grandchildren and the silly song they were singing as they worked on their "cooking."

"Yeah," I said with a small, sad smile, "I guess we did." And we had, I supposed, if not in the way Ashley hoped.

The rest of the visit flew by in a whirl of babysitting and doctor's visits and pasted-on smiles. Before I knew it, the last day had arrived. My flight out was scheduled for late afternoon, but I woke early, intending to take a walk in the cool darkness just before sunrise, for the fresh air and exercise and much-needed time to myself. But when I went to open the front door, something felt off, and I realized I couldn't hear the snoring that that had echoed through the small house every night this week.

With a gasp, I turned and rushed to my mother's side. "Ashley!" I shouted as I fumbled for the switch on the lamp and tried to remember what little first aid I knew. Running footsteps clattered along the floor, then stopped somewhere behind me. "Ashley, I don't think she's breathing."

"Oh, dear God," said Ashley, and then her phone was out and she was talking to someone.

The minutes that passed before the ambulance arrived felt like seconds and hours and days all at once. Blake was there, he was doing something I vaguely recognized as CPR, but I had no idea if it was working. Then it was flashing lights and paramedics in uniforms and Ashley had to stay with the kids so I was the one climbing into the back of the ambulance, and the siren was blaring as we raced through the streets and swerved around corners, everything swaying and rattling as I clung desperately to my mother's hand.

When we got to the hospital, they carted her off through a set of swinging doors, and all too soon it was just me, standing alone under the fluorescent lights, shaking. The air around me seemed to pulse, and the too-clean antiseptic smell of the hallway had me ready to vomit.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring in shock at the big red letters on the smooth metal doors. NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL BEYOND THIS POINT. It felt like forever.

But it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Brett was there, wrapping me in his jacket and leading me to a chair. I think there were tears in his eyes, but I was too numb to cry. Or to talk. So we just sat there in silence, his arms around me, until Ashley came in with a million questions that I couldn't even process, much less answer. Everything the paramedics and doctors said had shot right past me in a blur of unintelligible sound. Ashley seemed about ready to shake me in frustration, but Brett took her to look for the doctors who would have the answers I couldn't give her. He left me his jacket, but I still missed his comforting warmth.

A few hours later, I was sitting on a hard plastic chair in a cold, drab room, watching over my mother as she slept. She looked even stranger now, with her face all calm and peaceful, content in a way I had never seen her before. In my lap was a tray from the hospital cafeteria, a styrofoam bowl of steaming-hot soup at its center.

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, and I leapt to my feet in excitement, launching the tray from my lap and dumping the soup all over the floor.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, looking frantically around the room for something with which to mop up the rapidly spreading puddle of broth. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to bring you soup, like you always used to make me when I was sick, and I know it's not the same, but I just thought… well, and now I've gone and made a mess of it, haven't I?" My gaze locked on the box of tissues on the bedside table, and I practically lunged for them, but I was stopped by a gentle touch on my arm.

"Forget about the mess, Kathy, just come sit next to me." My mother gestured to the chair that was closest to her bed, and I sat down obediently. She let out a small, quiet laugh. "Goodness, I'd almost forgotten about the chicken soup."

"I don't know what you put in it, but that soup was the best thing I ever tasted."

She looked up at me sharply, confusion etched in the lines of her face. "What?"

"Don't worry, I'm just reminiscing, not trying to weasel any secret ingredients out of you."

This time, her laugh was raucous. "Secret ingredients? Kathy, the only secret ingredient in that stuff was a can of chicken soup from the supermarket."

Now I was the confused one. "What?"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry if you thought I was making some special family recipe, but you must've got that idea from some fever dream. Don't you remember what a terrible cook I am? The only things I could ever make came out of cans or boxes or little plastic packets."

After a moment, I couldn't help but laugh as well. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I probably should've known."

I ended up missing my flight and staying for an extra week. Mostly, I stayed at the house, helping Ashley with chores or the kids, but I visited the hospital a few times, too.

When I finally got home, a small, white envelope was waiting for me in the mailbox, my name and address scrawled across the back. Careful not to tear it, I peeled open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of lined paper covered in the same messy handwriting.

Mom's Chicken Soup

Ingredients:

1 12-oz can of condensed chicken soup

1 canful of water

Combine ingredients in saucepan and heat over medium high, stirring occasionally, until warm and bubbling slightly. Let cool to your desired temperature and serve with a side of high fever and delirium.

On the back was a brief note.

Thought you should have at least one family recipe.

With a small smile, I tucked the paper back into the envelope and turned to go inside, my heart feeling strangely light and heavy at the same time. And as I looked up to see my two beautiful, wonderful children come running out to greet me, I couldn't help feeling that my front door was not the only one that had just been opened.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Rock The Boat | JJ x Reader

Part I

summary: After spending some time with JJ Maybank, you realize the two of you will never get along. 

tw: drinking & alcohol, mentions of throwing up, just some good ole Pogue verus Kook tension 

a/n: now that im done with finals, i finally had time to start a JJ series so here it is :) i live for some good Kook verus Pogue animosity...that might turn into something more...!!!! part 2 will be up soon-ish. hope y’all enjoy this!!!!! & request are always open!!!

word count: 1.8k words

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

The first time you ever spoke to JJ Maybank you were throughly drunk. In fact, you don’t have any memory of the night. It was your Kook friends who filled you in on what happened at the party over brunch the next morning.  

School had gotten out a few days ago and your parents were out of town which meant you had a whole lot of freedom that you fully planning on take advantage of. 

You had spent the majority of the party dancing with your friends, the music good and the company was tolerable so you were content. You cup never seemed to be empty but then again, you weren’t worried really about counting the number of drinks you had. You were young and it was summer. 

Your friends were getting anxious to leave and head to the after-party Topper was throwing when you laid eyes on JJ. You stopped dead in your tracks and dropped your drink in the sand. 

“Ew,” your friend screamed. “(y/n) you just dropped your beer all over my scandals. Gross! ” 

“Who is that?” You asked, pointing in the boy’s direction. 

“I don’t know. I think his name is JJ. He mows my parent’s lawn sometimes. Why do you care? He’s a Pogue.” 

“Can we leave now? Pleaseeee,” another one of your Kook friends begged. 

You held up a single finger indicating that you needed just one more moment before you would be ready to go.

The alcohol in your blood was enough liquid courage for you to march over to JJ. Unfortunately, your heart and your stomach decided they weren’t on the same page and before you could introduce yourself, all that alcohol made an appearance. You threw up right on his shoes. 

“What the fuck!” He yelled at you, jumping back to avoid getting hit with anymore puke.

You looked up at him, thoroughly embarrassed. “I-I have to go,” you said, then stumbled back to your friends who were laughing their asses off at what had just occurred. “

Just get me out of here,” you begged and they did. 

...

Since you lived on Figure Eight and JJ was a Pogue, you figured your chances that you woud run into him again were very slim. You hadn’t noticed him in all the years that you have lived on the Outer Banks and you were praying that streak would continue. Barfing on a boy isn’t exactly the best way to get his attention. 

The door bell rang causing you to look up from the online shopping spree you were currently deep into. 

“I’m coming,” you called out, getting up from the kitchen table and walking to the front door. 

You opened the door and your eyes became huge when you saw that it was in fact JJ Maybank who was ringing your doorbell. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

“Uh,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I was just finishing up some repairs on your parent’ boat. They usually leave my pay out here...”

“Oh, yeah. There’s out of town.” You glanced at the table sitting next to the door and saw an envelope marched Boat Repairs. “Here,” you said, handing it to him. 

“Thanks. It’s good to see you, lightweight.” 

“I...” you started. He raised his eyebrows daring you to challenge what he just said. “I’m not a lightweight. I wasn’t even really that drunk.” 

“You  threw up on my shoes.” He said very matter of factly. 

You felt your checks flush red in embarrassment which made you slightly pissed. 

“Whatever. But I’m not a lightweight, just so you know.” You felt suddenly defensive of your drinking abilities and wanted this conversation to be over as soon as humanely possible. 

“See you around, lightweight.” JJ said before bounding down your porch stairs. 

“Asshole,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, no longer feeling so charmed by him. 

“Bye, princess.” He yelled back. 

...

The summer was passing uneventfully. You only saw JJ whenever you and your Kook friends ventured out to the boneyard for parties. Even then you clung to your friend’s side and were careful to put a wide distance between you and him. 

It had been raining for the past week but the sun was starting to peak out from behind the clouds and you were dying to get outside. You picked up your phone to call Kiara, knowing she was the only one of you friends who would want to surf with you. 

You two had met on the beach one day after you had massively wiped out from attempting to ride wave you had no business trying t surf. You had only picked up surfing recently and were much of an amateur then you had cared to admit. She rushed over to as you were coughing up salt water on the shore and ythe two of you clicked almost immediately. You hung out less often you wished but she was really more Pogue than Kook anyway so surfing was your two’s main activity. 

“Hey!” she said, answering the phone

“Hey,” you replied. ��Come surf with me?” 

“Shit, I’m sorry (y/n). I promised the boys I would come see them tonight since my parents have refused to let me out because of this rain.” 

“Oh,” you said, disappointed. 

“You could come with me.” She offered.  

“Really?” You ask, not quite sure how genuine her offer to go hang out with the Pogues. 

“Yeah, I’d be cool. I’ll...uh...pick you up in 10 ten.” She said and hung up the phone. 

You hadn’t ever really spent much time with any Pogues. Other than the few times they’d had their tongues in your mouth but you didn’t really think that counted. 

“Shit,” you muttered, suddenly realizing that JJ was in fact, one of the boys that you had just agreed to spend your afternoon with. This was bound to be interesting. 

...

True to her word, Kie pulled up to your house tens minutes later and laid on the horn. You slipped the novel you were reading into your bag and ran outside to greet her. 

“I’m here. I’m here,” you said, jumping into the front seat of her car. 

Kie pulled out of your driveway and the two of you made you way to the chateau. 

Kie hopped out of the car and walked into the chateau with easy but you couldn’t help feel a little out of place. This was Pogue territory and it felt wrong for you to be here. 

“C’mon,” Kie said as she held open the front door and waved you inside. 

Kie pointed a boy who currently perched on the kitchen counter, “That’s Pope.” He offered you a small smile and a wave. “John B’s down at the boat.” Then she motioned to the blonde boy flopped on the couch. “And that’s-” 

JJ cut her off, “We’ve met.” 

“Okayyyy,” Kie says a little suspiciously but reached down to take the blunt JJ was playing with instead of asking any further questions. 

“Why is a Kook here?” JJ ask his voice laid with a touch of annoyance. 

“I was trying to surf with Kie but unfortunately you were monopolizing her time so now I’m here,” you answered him, ignoring the face that he was really asking Kie in the first place.  

Pope hopped off the counter and headed to the front door. “Can we go already?” He asked before walking out it. 

“Yes, sir,” JJ says, jumping up his spot on the couch. “Comin’ lightweight?” He looked at you with raised eyebrows. 

“I have a name, you know. You could use it.” You shot back. 

“But that would be no fun, darlin’,” JJ replied with horrible fake southern accent. 

You cross your arms in front of you chest and scowled at him. 

Kie slapped him on the back of his head. “Leave (y/n) alone JJ.” 

He threw his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t me, mamma.” 

Kie rolls her eyes at him and grabbed your hand, leading you to the dock. “Ignore him. He’s an idiot.” 

You look back at JJ and say with a straight face, “I see that.” 

...

Being on the boats with the boys was nice. Well, being on the boat with John B and Pope was nice at least. You could see why Kie would rather spent her days with them than any of the guys from Figure Eight. 

You were successfully ignoring JJ and he didn’t seem to have further interest in annyoing you. You could tell another conversation with him might end nasty so you stayed as far away  as you could considering how small the HMS POGUE was. 

You and Kie were spread out on the bow soaking up the summer sun. Kie pulled her headphones out of her ears and declared that she wanted to swim She pulled her t-shirt off and jumped into the water with John B and Pope following quickly behind. You stood up, squinting at them in the water. 

“Get in!” Kie called to you. 

You held up the book you head been reading as to say, I’m good. She shrugged accepting you answer. 

“Really? You’re not getting in?” JJ asked you from across the boat. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said, dryly. You studied his face for a moment, looking for a sign of emotion but found none. 

You turned back to watch Kie and the boys in the water when suddenly you were being pushed off the bow of the boat and into your water. Your book flew out of hand and by some graces of God landed in the boat. 

You came up, hacking up waterr,to see JJ standing over you with a devilish grin on his face. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“How’s the water?” He smirked at you. 

“You’re a dick,” you snapped at him, swimming over to climb back in the boat. 

“You gotta admit (y/n), it was kind of funny.” John B said from the water. 

Kie reached over and smacked his arm. “Shut up John B.”

“C’mon Kook,” JJ said once you were back on the boat. “Can’t you take a joke or do they not teach you that on your side of the island?” 

You wanted to slap the stupid grin off JJ’s face but instead you just smiled your best fake smile at him. “I can take a joke. Your’s just wasn’t funny.”

You wrapped yourself in your towel, curled up into ball, and officially decided you never wanted to be associated with JJ Maybank. Or ever be friends with him, much less anything more.

...

“You should come hang out with me and the boys again sometime.” Kie offered when she dropped you off later that night.

You gave her a tight smile, “I’ll think about it.” Fully aware that even if JJ was the very last person left on plant earth, you had no intentions of ever going near him again. Your drunk self must have been really far gone to have wanted that boy because he was the worst kind of news and now that you knew it, you were staying far away. For good.

[mysymestash]

RFA + Saeran w/ MC who has terrible allergies

Yoosung

He was so excited when you told him you were coming to visit him at work!

Freaking out though lowkey because this is the first time you’ve seen his workplace and he wants to make you proud

This boy cannot sit still he’s trying to make sure everything is perfect, taking pictures of all the cutest animals, etc..

His nervousness goes away pretty quickly as soon as he sees you talking with the front desk

You had brought him a homemade lunch wrapped up in a cute patterned handkerchief??? He really couldn’t handle it anymore and basically tackle hugged you

All that nervousness and panic comes flooding back tenfold as you start coughing and sneezing basically as soon as he makes contact

So confused, pulls away immediately to make sure you’re okay

When you tell him sheepishly that you’re actually allergic to cats and dogs, but you wanted to see him at work anyways

At a vets office

Yoosung: >:0 ????

He is mortified and drags you outside for you to get some air

Scolds you for putting your own health in jeopardy

Afterwards sits down with you and you two have lunch together

Shows you all the pictures he took,, the amount of cute animal selfies he sends you doubles the next week because he doesn’t want you to miss out just because of your allergies

Jumin

I think you know where this is going

The first time you stay overnight at his place you forget your allergy medication at home (figures)

Still determined to stay because you don’t want to ruin the night

You decide to just try and keep your distance from Elizabeth as much as you can

That is, until she walks up to you and nuzzles your hand and makes your heart go uwu

Your fate had been sealed as you could obviously not bring yourself to push her away

Jumin comes home to find you sitting in the corner sniffling, eyes red and puffy

Drops everything and rushes over to you (does that slide thing on your knees people do in movies,, dude is dramatic)

.2 seconds away from calling the police in his distress

You have to stop him and fess up to your cat allergy

Devastated

“The fact that you have been cursed to not be able to witness such a regal breed in person..it is truly a deep sadness. I will do everything in my power to bring the full light of Elizabeth III into your life.”

Rest In Peace Jaehee because this man is about to launch the largest campaign in C&R history to cure cat allergies

Even when you tell him it’s unnecessary, all you need is your medication

Good luck trying to stop him

Saeyoung

He had been in a funk™️ the past week or so

Felt really bad for having you feed him and basically just keep him alive during that time

So he’s going to make you lunch!

Or

More of a light snack

Because this boy does not know how to cook

PB&J sandwiches! A classic, everyone loves em

Even splurges a little from his HBC budget to get some marshmallow fluff in there

It’s all very cute,, and he brings you the plate plus a glass of milk

He’s got his proud and happy face on as you take a bite out of his creation

Until your face promptly starts swelling

[707 PANIC MODE ENGAGED]

Recognizes it as an allergic reaction almost immediately and mentally slaps himself for not checking if you had a peanut allergy

He keeps epipens and other medical emergency things around the house- but turns out he didn’t need it because you’d already dug one of your own out of somewhere and stabbed it into your leg

He didn’t realize he’d frozen up when your breathing became impaired

WILL blame himself for this,, requires an adequate amount of cuddles afterwards to make sure he doesn’t fall back into his funk™️

Makes sure to check that every little thing going into your mouth isn’t something you’re allergic to

“Are you allergic to hotdogs?”

“Wait! What if you’re allergic to my love?”

Quickly devolves into just teasing

But now he carries at least five epipens on his person at all times

Zen

Ayy allergy buddies

You immediately bond with him over your mutual cat allergy

Although it’s not nearly as severe as his who tf sneezes at pictures Zen

You two end up adopting a big fluffy black dog together

Teasing Jumin’s love for cats? Check. Spamming the messenger of selfies with your dog to annoy Jumin? Check.

Most of your interactions with Jumin will inevitably lead to the subject of your dog and Elizabeth III

Zen ends up taking your little ‘rivalry’ way too seriously

Both of you spend way too much money on dog collars, dog beds, dog clOTHES

Tries to get your dog casted in a theatrical show

Jihyun (V)

Oh the irony- you’re allergic to the sun

He honestly just thinks you’re really into skin care because of all your assorted lotions and creams

Doesn’t really think much of it until a very intense heatwave hits your town and you’re basically trapped inside your apartment

Usually you’re able to out for short periods of time during the summer as long as you cover up and moisturize, but this time it’s way worse

You can’t risk it so you end up just staying home most days

Except from Jihyun’s perspective it feels like you’re avoiding him??

You still message each other and have calls over the phone, but every time he tries to meet up somewhere you bail- not wanting to worry him about your condition

He’s pretty understanding for the most part, knowing that personal space is important to a relationship

But the man is human and he’s realizing that he really misses seeing you

A few days turns into weeks of not being out with you and my boy starts going a bit stir crazy

Begins to overthink every interaction you two have and had in the past couple weeks that may have caused you to start avoiding him

V being V, he bottles up all these emotions until one day when he’s just at your door

He’s just apologizing and apologizing for whatever he thinks he did wrong

You are just- incredibly confused

As soon as you figure out what’s happening you explain to him right away why you haven’t been able to go outside

The relief this man feels

Understands completely although he’s a little miffed you thought you had to keep this a secret from him

You two end up just hanging out at your place for the rest of the summer- cuddling and watching movies

He’s trying to make up for all the time you two missed out on lol

Buys you all the creams and medication you might need in the future 👍🏼

Saeran

Being with Saeran means you’re probably going to be eating a lot of ice cream

...which might not be super good for your dairy allergy

It’s never gotten worse than a slightly upset stomach though so you keep quiet about it

Well, it’s never gotten worse until now

After a particularly busy day at a new Baskin-Robbins that opened near your place- where he obviously was going to try every single flavour

Your body just could not handle it and he found you throwing up your guts at 2 in the morning

He just starts

Screaming

Thinks you’re dying for real,, does not know how to handle this situation

You’re basically trying to calm him down while also hacking and wheezing into the toilet

Once he sort of calms down enough to actually listen to what you’re saying, he just sits down next to you and pats your back really awkwardly

“Is this your way of comforting me”

“Shut up we’re never going back there again”

Jaehee

She had been overworking herself again recently and you’d forced her to take a break and hang out with you

You two decided to go out for a picnic, since it was such a nice day

She had packed cute bite sized sandwiches and fruit cubes

After eating, she had laid back on the blanket, just relaxing and listening to you talk

You were excitedly mentioning the new selfie Zen sent to the messenger, reaching for your phone to show her

Unfortunately you did not notice the bee chilling on your phone case

You did soon enough though when you felt the sharp sting in your hand a telltale bee sting

Jaehee immediately sat up when she heard your yelp, seeing your swelling hand and face

But this is baehee we’re talking about

Of course she knew about your allergy already and had three epipens ready

On the outside she was the epitome of calm and collected as she swiftly pulled out the pen and injected it into your thigh

But on the inside she was freaking out

Panic panic panic

After making sure you’re okay afterwards both of you decide that was enough for relaxing picnic time

You two had back home and just cuddle for the rest of the day watching recordings of Zen’s musical

[ghosthouses27]

Blast From The Past

quick heads-up that all the new youtubers dropping into hermitcraft have time travelled from 2016 so they got their 2016 outfits and personalities

~*~

>stampylongnose joined the game

A loud yelp immediately alerted Scar away from his base, followed by a faint crash that was shortly cut off by coughing. Scar whipped around on his heals and immediately ran towards it, a nearly tripping over his own slippers. His first thought was that someone had crashed into a tree again (probably Mumbo), but that wasn't the case.

A brunette with curly hair and an orange hoodie was laying on the ground, a dark red vest over the hoodie. Faux cat ears on the hood stuck out from among the leaves that had fallen on his head, and a white tipped tail whisked behind him as he coughed rather violently.

Scar was stunned into silence for a moment before gathering his composure. "Um, hi?" The stranger jumped at his voice, glancing up at him with emerald green eyes, but was interrupted by another cough. "Hey are, you okay?"

"Y-yeah just *cough* i-inhaled something," the brunette spluttered, gasping for breath. He finally looked up Scar and squinted. "Finnball?"

Scar raised an eyebrow curiously and kneeled next to him. "No?" he replied, tilting his head. "My name's Scar. Is Finnball a friend of yours?"

The stranger nodded, squinting his eyes a bit less now that Scar was closer. "Can you uh, see my glasses?" he asked, feeling around for the thin frame. "Everything's kinda just a big green blob for me and uh, my glasses are pretty small."

"Oh uh, yeah sure." Scar looked around for a moment before easily spotting the glasses and handed them to the brunette who quickly slipped them on.

"That's better!" He smiled and heaved himself onto his feet, only a bit taller than Scar. "So uh, it's nice to meet you!" he exclaimed, holding out a hand for Scar to shake. "My name's Stampy! You said you were Scar?"

"Yeah I'm Scar," Scar replied, shaking his hand. "I think I've heard of you. Stampylongnose right? Creator of the famous Lovely World?"

"Yup!" Stampy nodded, grinning. "That's me!" A nearby parrot suddenly swooped down and delicately perched on a branch near the two, chirping a little tune. "Aww hey birdie!" Stampy cooed, stepping closer and patting it on the head.

He looked around, finally the noticing the tall jungle trees towering over him. "Where... are we?" he asked slowly, spinning around. "Is this My Story Mode House-? wait no that's an Xbox server- uhhh, is this Quacktopia or maybe Squid's server-"

"Slow down!" Scar interrupted, his head practically spinning.

"Ah! Sorry!" Stampy said, smiling apologetically. "But uh, where is this?"

"You're in Hermitcraft, a whitelisted server," Scar explained, letting out a breath. "Do you even know how you got here? I wasn't aware we were getting a new member, unless you hacked but you really don't seem like the kind of person to hack."

"Oh no, I would never hack!" Stampy chucked awkwardly. "I don't even think I know how to hack! I can barely navigate PC worlds!" He giggled. "But ah, my friend managed to get me in here. He did some science-y redstone stuff and bam! I ended up falling into a jungle!"

Scar stared at him for a moment in confused silence. "...huh," he finally managed to say. Guess I should probably tell Xisuma, he thought, digging into his pocket for his communicator.

>iBallisticSquid joined the game

"Excuse me!" a voice yelled. Keralis looked up to see someone with dirty blonde hair and a dark blue jacket waving from the top of his crane, holding his red and blue headphones with his other hand so they wouldn't fall off.

His mismatching colored eyes lit up when Keralis looked up at him and he waved even harder, nearly falling off the platform in the progress. "Hi!" he called down. "Did you build this?!"

"Uh- me?" Keralis asked, a little startled. "Y-yeah, I did! Why?"

"This looks awesome!"

"I-uh- thank you?" Keralis yelled back up, still slightly confused by the whole situation. "Do you need some help down? I can fly up if you want!"

The stranger stared at him weirdly. "Are you in creative or something?" he asked. "Or did you mean ladders? Or ya gonna nerd-pole?"

This time it was Keralis' turn to give a strange look. "No...?" he said, getting out a rocket to show him. "I'm gonna... fly?" He shot himself into the sky, boosting up next to the mysterious player and skidding next to him.

The blonde gaped at him in wide-eyed shock, eyes flicking from Keralis' custom elytra to his face. "Wait, is that one of those new wingy things?!" he exclaimed, pointing to the black and yellow striped gliders. "That's so cool! I didn't know you could dye 'em! Or use fireworks with 'em!"

"Uh, you can't?" Keralis said, picked up one of the wings slightly. "Everyone can just, customize their elytras?" He raised an eyebrow. "Are you a new player?"

"Nah, not at all." The stranger put his hands behind his head, grinning and showing sharp teeth. "Actually bit of an old player; just not used to the new update yet."

Keralis had more questions but decided to save them for later and first figure out who this person was. "Well, what's you name?" he asked. "I'm Keralis."

"My name's Squid-oodalay!" Squid replied, taking an exaggerated bow. "Or just Squid! Pleasure to meet'cha!"

"Nice to meet you too." Keralis glanced down and immediately regretted it as the world started to swim beneath his feet. "Oh that's not good," he muttered, taking a step backwards. His heel caught on the edge and slipped off, making him jolt backwards with a cry.

"I gotcha!" Squid quickly reached and grabbed his arm, digging his heels into the ground and pulling him up. Keralis was heaved up and the brunette collapsed on the concrete, gasping for breath.

"Th-thanks..."

"No problem, but we should probably get down now. Don't want one of us to fall down again." Squid chuckled and jumped over to where the mast was, glancing down at the ladder in the middle before walking over to the edge and leaping off.

"SQUID!" Keralis leaped off as well, spreading out his elytra and swooping down. Squid was hanging off the ledge of one of the gaps in the mast, about a third of the way down and heaving himself onto the block.

"What the heck was that?!" Keralis managed to yell as he glided besides him, eyes wide and distraught.

"It's quicker than ladders!" Squid retorted, smirking and ready to jump again. "And I don't think your wings can hold both of us! Can they?" Keralis hesitated for a moment but reluctantly shook his head. "Knew it!"

Squid jumped down again and landed squarely on the ground, yelping and nearly falling over. "Ow! Me legs!" he whined, rubbing at his ankle.

"A-are you okay?" Keralis asked, skidding to a stop on the ground.

"Yeah I'm good, just a few hearts down." Squid looked up at Keralis, then the crane, then the house, then back at Keralis. "Probably should've asked this earlier but uh, where is this? Like, I know it's a mesa-"

"I think it's savannah actually."

"One of the grassy places!"

"I don't think mesas are grassy."

"One of the orange places!"

Keralis sighed; this was going no where. "I'm just... gonna tell Shashwamy that you're here," he mumbled, pulling out his communicator.

Squid glanced over at his communicator as the screen popped up, trying to read the backwards text. "Wait who's Shashwamy? Is that a friend?"

"Yeah he's, also the admin of Hermitcraft."

"Wait admin? Is this Hypixel or something? Also what's Hermitcraft? Aren't those crabs?"

>DanTDM joined the game

Someone knocked at the door of his pyramid and Cub rolled his eyes. "Come in, the door isn't even there," he said, not even turning around.

"Um, hello?" The unfamiliar voice instantly made Cub whip around, sword glittering in hand. A brunette with goggles on his head was standing at the doorway, the front part of his hair dyed electric blue.

"Username, now," Cub demanded, tattered vex wings bursting from his back. The brunette's pale blue eyes widened and he fumbled to grab his communicator. He tapped at the screen and a hologram screen flashed in front of him with his username.

Cub lowered his sword and the wings on his back faded, but he still eyed the brunette warily. "Sorry about that," he muttered, tucking his sword away. "I thought you were a hacker or something."

"Oh no, I should be the one apologizing!" the stranger said quickly, smiling awkwardly. "I probably should've given more of a heads-up than just waltzing on in."

"So are you really DanTDM?" Cub asked. "Also how the hell'd you get in here?"

"Yeah I am DanTDM," the brunette replied sheepishly, looking away with a slight smile. "And I might have uh, done something? Bad?"

Cub rolled his eyes. "Real specific."

Dan chuckled. "I know, I know. But I'm honestly not too sure what I did either? I was playing around around with portals with some friends, and then one of the portals also kinda blew up and I ended up here?"

A bark suddenly echoed in the room and the skeleton of a dog came bounding in, growling slightly under its breath. Cub could only stare in silent awe as the dog bounced up to Dan and sat at his feet, glaring at Cub with cold eyes.

"Awww hey Grim!" Dan cooed, picking up the bony pup. "Did you follow me through the portal?"

"Wh... how did you even manage this?!" Cub exclaimed, his eyes wide. He grabbed his communicator out from his pocket and instantly flicked to the main chat. "I need to tell X about this!"

Dan looked up, squinting at the backwards text and attempting to read some of it. "You should also probably tell you friend that I'm here."

"Oh right, that too."

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 7: Claire

Ao3

Claire’s eyelids fluttered open. Rapidly blinking to bring the dark room into focus. Which was definitely way too dark for it to be time to get up.

She rolled over and glanced towards her alarm clock, trying to focus on the glowing, green numbers with still bleary eyes.

3:47am

Claire groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her cheek deeper into her pillow in an attempt to go back to sleep. Which given her track record, probably wasn’t going to happen.

Why had she even woken up in the first place? There were no loud sounds or bright lights. She wasn’t in any discomfort and didn’t have to go to the bathroom. So why was--

Muffled noises came from down the hall.

She froze underneath the covers, not even daring to breathe. All thoughts of going back to sleep vanishing as her heartbeat skyrocketed.

Had she really just heard that, not just imagined it? That was probably it, Claire probably just heard the house settling and her sleepy brain ran with it. There was no way it could be something...else. 

Just then the noises came again, removing any possibility of them being imagined. Not moving an inch from where she was, Claire tried to discern exactly what exactly the strange noises were. They didn’t sound like a home invader, but they didn’t sound like one of her parents just getting a glass of water either.

After debating with herself for a solid minute, Claire peeled the sheets away and sat up. Slinking out of bed, she cautiously crept out of her room and down the hall, willing the frantic thrumming of her heart to slow.

If it turned out to be one of her parents that would be that, but if it wasn’t she would run back to her room, lock the door, and call the cops.

Easy peasy….in theory.

By now she could hear well enough to tell that the noises were coming from the bathroom, and as Claire tiptoed closer the sounds got clearer. Shuffles and clanks, someone hacking and gasping, someone she knew.

Her mom.

Claire practically melted with relief at once she realized that the sound wasn’t some psychotic burglar. Almost immediately the feeling was replaced with stomach curdling dread as the horrible sounding coughs continued. 

She knocked gently on the bathroom door “Mom?”

No reply, the moans and strangled gasps continued uninterrupted.

Insides knotted with anxiety, Claire eased open the door to reveal her mom slumped on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet, clinging to the porcelain bowl like a life preserver. She turned in response to the door opening, eyes weary and unfocused, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand “wuh, Claire? What are--” 

Her cheeks bulged and she hastily turned back towards the toilet, groaning miserably as her stomach forcefully emptied its contents again.

Claire rushed to her mother’s side “What’s wrong, are you sick? Should I get Dad?”

“I--” she coughed, a horrible hacking sound “I’m fine, your father went out to get me some medicine, go back to bed,”

Claire made no attempt to move, she stayed firmly in place kneeling on the floor and holding Ophelia’s hair as she continued to vomit. 

The sharp terror from a minute ago of their home potentially being intruded upon by a dangerous outsider had been replaced by a softer, more insidious fear.

If her mom was fine why was she puking her guts out at three in the morning? That wasn’t something people who were ‘fine’ did. So yeah, fat chance of Claire going back to bed.

Despite Ophelia’s continued weak objections. Claire stayed by her side until she was finished heaving. When Ophelia once again insisted that she was alright and that Claire should go back to sleep she responded by gently leading her downstairs to the couch and covering her with a blanket.

Ophelia had given up protesting by then, eyes fluttering shut as she clutched her stomach and leaned back against the couch cushion.

Claire twisted the cloth of her pajama top with her hands, fabric balled between trembling fingers. Why wasn’t her mom giving her a harder time about this? Why was she lying back and not fighting her at all? Where was the tough-as-nails politician that ruled the household schedule with an iron fist?

Just how sick was her mom?

Seeing her mom slumped back against the couch, stray locks of hair pasted to her sweaty, pale skin; Claire felt smaller than she had in a long time.

Claire shook her head and shoved her nagging fears down as far as she could. This was no time to be freezing up, now was the time to do something. She could panic later, her mom was sick and needed help now. 

Running into the kitchen, Claire started up the water, grabbed a mug, and popped in a lemon teabag. In less than five minutes she had a steaming cup of lemon tea.

Hurrying over to Ophelia, Claire set the mug down in front of her “I made tea do you want some?”

Ophelia blinked sluggishly “No...no thank you,” she said in a soft voice.

Claire bit her lip, her mom had just thrown up a lot and probably needed fluids, but she had said no and she shouldn’t undercut that.

In the end Claire left the tea where it was just in case her mom changed her mind and scurried back to the kitchen. A bundle of nervous energy with nowhere to go, she fluttered around the pantry until she landed on a box of saltines and jogged back to the couch.

“Maybe try chewing on some of these, that should help with your stomach,”

Apparently this had been the wrong thing to say.

The corners of Ophelia’s mouth turned down into an irritated frown, lifting her head just enough to deliver a stern glare “Claire I’m fine, I just need to rest, I don’t need you fussing over me,” 

Claire slowly lowered the box of saltines, cheeks burning. 

Of course. Why hadn’t she realized sooner? Her mom had been puking her guts out less than five minutes ago, of course she didn’t feel like eating anything. Of course she was feeling sick and miserable, of course she didn’t want Claire buzzing around and throwing tea and crackers at her. 

Flushed with shame, Claire tucked the saltines under her arm, picked up the tea, and slunk back into the kitchen. 

One thing was clear, her mom needed peace and quiet, hopefully Claire could do that right at least.

She took a seat at the kitchen table and ended up sipping the lemon tea herself. Occasionally throwing worried glances towards where her mom was resting. 

The urge to fix this, to do something to help, to make things better, was almost overwhelming. Her mom was sick, really sick, and Claire was just sitting around having tea. But what the hell did she know about what her mom needed? Maybe lemon tea and saltines would make whatever she had worse. Maybe the best thing to do would be to stay out of the way until her dad came back with actual medicine.

Her eyes started to burn despite how much she was trying to fight it.

Maybe Claire didn’t know the first thing about helping sick people. But she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Not when it was her mom.

After nearly ten minutes of going back and forth Claire ended up making another cup of tea, ginger this time, which she knew was one of her mom’s favorites. 

She timidly stepped back into the living room, hands clasped tightly around the fresh cup of tea. Just go up and very calmly and quietly offer the tea again. And if her mom said no she would leave right away and not disrupt her resting.

“I made some ginger tea,” Claire said gently while walking up to the couch “You like ginger right?”

Ophelia blinked and leaned forward, hands outstretched to accept the mug, even those small movements appeared to take all the effort she had “Thank you mija, that sounds good,”

Elation shot through her as she handed over the warm ceramic mug. A massive weight was lifted off her shoulders as Claire finally felt like she was doing something to help. 

She was about to retreat to the kitchen so not to hover, when her mom spoke up again. 

“Claire, if you don’t mind, could you sit up with me?” Ophelia flashed her a weak smile “Some company sounds good right now,”

A hot, fluttery feeling swept through her body, something between relief and joy “Of course Mom,”

Claire sat back in the easy chair. She stayed quiet to keep from stressing her mom out any more, but kept her eyes locked on her. Carefully watching for any further signs of illness while her mom took tiny sips of tea. 

Twenty minutes later and half an hour after Claire had woken up her dad came home.

“Sorry I took so long,” he shut and locked the door with one hand while carrying a plastic grocery bag in the other “The CVS was closed so I had to drive all the way to-- Claire? What are you doing up?”

Claire shot up out of her seat, eyes locked on the bag “You have medicine, right? Will it be enough? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Slow down Claire,” Javier walked over to the couch and sat down beside his wife, handing her the bag “We’re not going to the hospital, this is just to help with your mother’s nausea,”

“Buh...but, why are you nauseous? You were really sick, why aren’t we going to the hospital!?”

Ophelia and Javier shared a conspiratorial look.

She knew that look. 

There was something they knew that she didn’t.

“What’s going on, please, tell me!” her voice was practically a whine by now but she didn’t care, her mom was sick and Claire needed to know how bad it was.

They were both silent for a few seconds. Then Ophelia gingerly set the bag and mug off to the side before clearing her throat “Claire, we’re pretty sure that this is...morning sickness,”

Claire’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Morning sickness? But that’s what people had when they were--

Oh.

Oh.

She flopped back into her seat, brain too busy shifting gears to control her body right now. Ophelia was still talking but Claire was only half listening. 

It was a massive relief to hear that her mom wasn’t dying from some horrible stomach disease, but the fact that she had been throwing up because…

That was a lot to wrap her head around, to say the least.

“...now it’s still pretty early and there’s a lot we don’t know for sure, so please don’t go around telling everyone, ok?”

Enough of her brain was still functioning that Claire managed to nod in response. 

“We expect the morning sickness to go away soon, but I have an OBGyn appointment next Tuesday. If there are any issues we’ll catch them,” Ophelia leaned forward and flashed Claire a rare, relaxed smile “I’m ok mija,”

Somehow Claire found herself smiling back.

*

Claire waved goodbye as her father’s SUV pulled away from the school.

It felt strange that even when her day started with waking up to the sound of her mom projectile vomiting and learning she wasn’t going to be an only child for much longer it still brought her to the front of the school, ready for another day of lectures and studying. Same as always.

Despite everything calming down no one had gone back to sleep. They’d all stayed up and talked, mostly about the new little brother or sister she would be getting in eight months. Her dad had taken advantage of being up early to cook them all an extra large breakfast.

Even if her mom had only been able to eat a few spoonfuls of the oatmeal.

Quite frankly Claire was still figuring out how she felt about getting a sibling. Mainly she was just glad that her mom was ok. 

Car vanishing around the corner, Claire turned and headed into the school building. 

Her mom had always been pretty strict, and her dad was right up there with her. Claire would be the first to admit that she wished they would lighten up every once and awhile. But seeing her mom so sick that she’d barely been able to stand was...scary. 

A hot flicker of guilt briefly flared in her chest as she reached her locker and started spinning in the combination. Her parents weren’t perfect by any means, in fact Claire had a whole mental list of things she wished they’d do differently. But she knew from the bottom of her heart that they loved her, and if push came to shove, either one of them would take a bullet for her.

Not everyone was lucky enough to have parents like that.

Out of the corner of her eye Claire spotted Jim and Toby at their lockers, causing her chest to tighten with an entirely different emotion.

Once in middle school Claire had pulled a chair out from under another girl, she’d gotten written up and the teacher had called her parents. She very clearly remembered sitting in the principal’s office, absolutely petrified of what punishment her parents would dish out when they got there. 

But whatever that punishment was, being grounded for two weeks as it turned out, she’d been scared of it, not of her parents.

Lips pursed, Claire watched Jim and Toby head off to their first class.

Yesterday, after the movies, Jim hadn’t just been acting nervous about being punished or grounded.

He had been scared.

Scared for real.

Claire liked Jim. She liked being his friend and for a long time she wanted to be more than that. But every time she came close to taking that step, every time she thought about asking him out or confessing her feelings, she stopped. Some nameless instinct holding her back.

So she stayed quiet, and waited.

For months Claire had struggled with her feelings, holding back and biting her tongue without ever being able to put her finger on the reason why.

But now she knew.

Claire made her way over to where Mary and Darci were waiting in their usual rendezvous spot. 

“Hey guys…”

Both of them looked towards her, but it was Darci who responded. 

“Morning Claire,” she paused, noticing the troubled expression on her friend’s face “Hey, is something going on?”

Claire took a deep breath, maybe she was just being paranoid, reading too much into things. But she had to ask “You remember yesterday, after the movies?”

Darci winced while Mary just snorted “Yeah, that’s pretty hard to forget,” 

“The way Jim freaked out and the way his mom was acting…” Claire bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before taking the leap “That wasn’t…I don’t think everything’s ok with them, do you guys think so to?”

As soon as the words left her mouth Mary’s expression turned hard as stone “You’re damn right I do, something’s definitely going on,”

Darci’s wince deepened, based on her expression she already knew where this was leading to and she didn’t like it “Yeah, I think he was worried about a lot more than breaking curfew,”

“So what should we do?”

Things were silent for a few moments before Mary spoke up, voice flinty “We all need to have a talk,”

[writeontimey]

WoT - Would you read it for Chris' snack? // PILOT

Today we have, Food Follies, the pilot of Write on Time.

The scene starts showing a grassy field with only one tree, in this tree we can see a small bird house hanging from a branch, that's the Tricky Trio's house, the scene starts to show the inside of the house, where Joseph and Philip are playing a card game called "The Game".

Philip: JUST PLAY!

Joseph: I'm thinking! T-INK-IN-G, now wait, will ya?

Philip: Ngh, don't think so you don't hurt your head.

Philip gets up, stands next to Joseph, and starts to see his cards.

Philip: If I were you I would play this one.

Joseph: Ok.

Joseph plays the card chosen by Philip.

Philip: Hey, how did you make such a good play?

Joseph: Secret.

Philip: Cool, 'cuz I WIN!

Philip plays all his cards and wins the game, he laughs while Joseph looks at him annoyed, Joseph then looks at the camera.

Joseph: Skilled isn't he?

Joseph goes back to looking at Philip.

Joseph: Let's play again.

Chris (offscreen): AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Joseph and Philip get scared and look at each other for a second, the scene then changes to Chris, sitting on a couch, Joseph and Philip jump out of the throw pillows and look at Chris.

Joseph and Philip: WHAT?

Chris: It's horrible, deplorable, unignorable... it rhymed... BUT IT'S HORRIBLE!

Joseph and Philip: WHAT?

Chris: Somebody ate my SNACK!

Joseph and Philip: IMPOSSIBLE!

Chris (crying): Possible! WAAAAAH! Help me!

Philip: Of course, we'll help! I investigated a familiar case before, mine was a turkey sandwich, I loved it, seeing it dead was the most shocking scene I have seen in 17 years being a detective.

Joseph: What was the second most shocking?

Philip: This one.

Philip gets closer to Chris.

Philip: Don't worry, the great detectives are here.

A very detective like intro happens, with the first scene showing Philip walking in circles following his own trail of footprints, and the second scene showing Joseph holding a magnifying glass analyzing things, but accidentally looking at the Sun and burning his eyes.

Philip: Firstly!

Philip gives a stylish entrance by spinning his way to Chris and putting a pipe in his mouth.

Philip: Explain what happeneEE COUGH COUGH COUGH!

Philip throws the pipe away.

Philip: What COUGH COUGH, happened COUGH.

Chris: My snack was eaten.

Philip: Can you give a more detailed explanation?

Chris: Sure, my snack, wich is a quick meal between lunch and dinner was ingested and it's probably being digested and soon will become...

Joseph: TOO MANY DETAILS!

Philip: What were you doing when the snack was stolen?

Chris: I was on TikTok thinking about how JungKook is pretty.

Philip: Yes, and how did you find out it was stolen?

Chris: I went to the microwave, where I kept the snack, and then, I SAW... I SAW THE SCENE... ONLY CRUMBS AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH.

Chris: By the way, "GREAT DETECTIVES"... how can I know that YOU weren't the ones who ate it? BUNCH OF MUGGERS!

Philip: ARE YOU CALLING ME THIEF?

Chris: No! Just criminal, evildoer, crook and outlaw.

Philip: Oh alright, BUT IT WASN'T ME!

Joseph: Me neither.

Chris: Where were YOU at the time of the crime?

Philip and Joseph: Playing The Game.

Chris: Hmmmm, ok, nothing strange there, for now! Oh, when I find out who was responsible for this, I will equalize their face!

Philip: Let's go to the microwave to analyze the crumbs, there may be a clue there.

Everyone runs to the kitchen, and Joseph starts pointing somewhere.

Joseph: LOOK! ONE CLUE!

Chris: Where is it? Where is it?

Joseph shows a cellphone with the app "One Clue Crossword" showing.

Chris: Are you trying to die?

Philip pushes the two, and goes to the microwave.

Philip: I'm serious, people! Hmm, let me see these crumbs here.

The scene shows a very cliché detective sequence with Philip analyzing everything, putting crumbs in scientist tubes, tasting them, even hacking them with a computer. The scene then changes to Joseph and Chris standing in the middle of the kitchen looking at Philip.

Joseph: What a show off, isn't he?

Chris just nods positively. After that, Philip jumps in front of them.

Philip: Well friends.

Chris: WHAT? WHO WAS IT? SAY IT! SAY IT IMMEDIATELY! AM I DYING? DO I HAVE CHANCES TO LIVE DOCTOR?

Philip: Well, analyzing the situation a little and testing the texture and taste of the remaining crumbs, I come to the conclusion that yes, it was definitely a snack.

Chris e Joseph: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

Philip: I also found a sign saying "William was here."

Chris: WILLIAM!

The scene changes to William sitting on another couch from the house, watching TV, out of nowhere a long, macabre hand slowly comes out of the TV, when it touches William, the TV starts screaming and Philip, Joseph and a furious Chris jump out of it and fall on the couch.

Joseph, Chris and Philip: IT WAS YOU!

William: I'M JUST GETTING OUT OF HERE WITH MY LAWYER! I'LL ONLY SAY SOMETHING WITH A MANDATE!

Chris: It was you, wasn't it? You ate my snack!

William: Did I? I don't remember.

Chris: Oh, so you're going to make a fool of yourself now, right? PHILIP INTERROGATE HIM!

Philip stands in front of William

Philip: Let's go! Helper, hold him.

Joseph's arms start to stretch and tie William to the couch.

Philip: A crime occurred here recently, one of the clues led us to you.

William: What crime? What clue?

Joseph slaps William in the face.

Joseph: We are the ones who ask the questions here!

William: Ok... then ask.

Joseph: Uuuuhhh, are you to blame?

William: For what?

Joseph slaps William in the face again.

Joseph: I SAID THAT WE ARE THE ONES WHO ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE.

Philip: The crime is a snack theft, the clue was a sign saying "William was here."

William: Ah, well, I'm having some amnesia attacks recently so I am leaving these signs all over the house to remind myself of where I have been.

Joseph: That's the most lame excuse I've ever heard.

Philip, Chris and Joseph: It must be true.

Philip: So, sir, have you heard anything recently that might be suspicious?

William: Well... I have amnesia so I have no idea.

Philip, Chris and Joseph look with a bored expression to each other and leave, the scene changes to them talking in private.

Philip: Okay, so it wasn't him.

Chris: But what if he is lying?

Joseph: Makes sense, Chris, I read in a book that the culprit is always the first person interrogated.

Philip: Yes, but we don't want that OLD AND PAST CLICHÉ on our show, do we?

Philip and Chris look at the camera and then at Joseph with a sarcastic look.

Joseph: Okay!

Philip: Hmmm, I already know who we can interrogate next!

The scene changes to a close up on William with an angry expresion on his face, the screen then shows Chris, Joseph and Philip around him.

William: Why do you want to interrogate me again?

Philip: We don't know who we can interrogate next!

William: Why don't you go, like, I don't know, to the place where she bought the snack?

Philip: Hey hey hey, shhh, I'm the detective here!

Philip turns to Chris and Joseph and says.

Philip: Guys, let's investigate the place...

William: GO AWAY!!!!

The scene changes to a restaurant called McRat. Philip, Chris and Joseph are in front of it.

Philip (narrating): McRat, normally a nice, happy place, but today, it was a dark place, because all the lights we're out.

Joseph: Are you narrating?

Philip: Yeah! Super cool!

Philip (narrating): We entered McRat, there was nobody inside it today, probably because it was already closed and we broke in to get in there.

Employee: GET OUT OF HERE NOW! I SAID WE'RE CLOSED!

Philip: Helper, hold him!

Joseph grabs an refrigerator, puts the employee inside it and closes the door, he then wait 3 seconds and opens the door, showing the employee inside a giant block of ice only with his head free.

Philip: We want to ask you a few questions.

Employee: Ugh, ok, yes, the CheeseRat is made of rats, yes, they are sewage rats, but they are washed, they are clean...

Joseph: TOO MANY DETAILS!

Chris: I came here and bought a Fried Vole earlier.

Employee: Well, those are worse, they are made with...

Joseph: NOBODY WANTS TO KNOW HOW YOUR SNACKS ARE MADE.

Employee: Good, because I REALLY didn't want to explain about the Chicken Sushi... I'll just say one thing, it's not chicken.

Joseph looks at the camera and at the Employee with a sad expression.

Joseph: I'm glad I don't eat here.

Philip: Okay, okay, enough talk, did you see someone strange here recently?

The employee takes a good look at the trio, who are making weird faces.

Employment: Yes.

Philip: ...

Philip: Alright! We're going, come on, helper, let him go.

Joseph hits the ice with a hammer and chisel, breaking everything. They go to the outside of the restaurant and sit on the sidewalk.

Philip: Let's interrogate some more people.

Chris: I know someone we can interrogate.

The scene changes to the Big Bad Wolf, hidden in a bush in the middle of a forest, watching a Little Red Riding Hood pass by.

Big Bad Wolf: Hmm, picnic basket, snack time.

Out of nowhere Joseph, Philip and Chris appear.

Joseph, Philip and Chris: STOP!

Big Bad Wolf: AAAAAAAAHHHHHH WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?

Philip: Well, you know, mom loved dad a lot and...

Joseph: TOO MANY DETAILS!

Joseph comes closer to the wolf's ear.

Joseph: I came from a scientific experiment.

Big Bad Wolf: What do you want here?

Chris: YOU ATE MY SNACK DIDN'T YA?

Big Bad Wolf: What? What snack?

Joseph slaps the wolf.

Joseph: Another one who likes to ask.

Chris: You know what snack! We know you're a glutton, tried to eat 3 pigs and even ate an old lady once.

Philip: Chris! This show was supposed to be family friendly.

Joseph: Yeah right, look who's speaking, "Mr. Daddy Loved Mommy Guy".

Philip: Mine was a valid example.

Big Bad Wolf: LISTEN! I didn't eat any snacks, in fact, if you read my stories you can see that I always fail to eat anything.

Chris: Go on..

Big Bad Wolf: But I know someone who is rude enough to eat other people's food without asking.

Joseph, Philip and Chris: Who?

The scene changes to Goldilocks analyzing the bears' porridges.

Goldilocks: Too hot, too cold, perfect!

Joseph, Philip and Chris appear out of nowhere.

Joseph, Philip and Chris: STOP!

Goldilocks chokes on the porridge and spits it all over her face.

Goldilocks: AAAAAH, COUGH, COUGH, WHAT? WHAT?

Chris: So you like to eat things without permission, right! Did you eat my snack?

Goldilocks: No! No! I swear! I don't even know you! But... I know someone who likes snacks.

A montage with the trio interrogating other characters starts, firstly with them talking with Shaggy and Scooby-Doo, then Garfield, then Hansel and Gretel. The scene then changes to the tired trio seated in a couch in their house.

Philip: Who we still need to interrogate?

Joseph: Goku, Naruto, Greedy Smurf.

Philip (excited): Ooooh, did you say Naruto?

Chris: Oh, forget it, we'll never find out who ate my snack, let's just leave it behind.

Chris walks out and Joseph follows her.

Philip (mentally): Hmm, wait... behind?

A light bulb suddenly appears on Philip's head and he has an idea.

Philip: I GOT IT!

The scene then shows all previously interrogated characters and the trio in a room, Philip is standing in front of everyone while the rest is sitting in chairs.

Philip: Now, you must be wondering why I called you all here.

Joseph: We are not, smart guy, it is literally the plot of the whole episode.

Big Bad Wolf: And why do we need to be phere? We don't care about a stupid snack.

Philip: You are here because we need more people to play Among Us.

All previously interrogated people leave the room, only leaving the trio.

Philip: Rude people.

Chris: WHO STOLE MY SNACK!

Philip: Well, Chris, I was in doubt, but after you said "leave it behind" I remembered something! Who is the only person who can be everywhere at the same time, and is the only person who in all cartoons, comic strips, films and everywhere never eats?

Chris: Me.

Philip: The cameraman.

Chris and Joseph: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, what?

Chris: This is a text, we don't have a cameraman.

Philip: But here we have a NARRATOR!

Chris and Joseph: AAAAAAAAAHHHH.

What? How can he...

Philip: COME ON NARRATOR! I CAN SEE YOUR TEXT! ACTUALLY SHOW YOURSELF!

Narrator: What?

Philip: Admit it, before the episode started you saw the snack and decided to eat it.

Narrator: O-Of course not.

Chris: IT WAS YOU! I WILL EXTERMINATE YOU!

Narrator: Of course it wasn't me, I was... I... I was! I WAS!

Philip: You can't fool me, Narrator.

Narrator: Grrr, ALRIGHT, IT WAS ME! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

Chris: No! We still have to find out who you really are.

Grr alright... I, the narrator, materialize myself in front of Chris, Joseph and Philip.

William: Here.

Chris, Joseph and Philip: William?

Philip: Wait, William, are you a narrator?

William: Just for this pilot, the normal narrator is sick today.

Joseph: The guy missed the first day at work.

Chris: It doesn't matter, TIME TO DIE, FOR MY SNACK!

Chris starts to fight with William like crazy, a cartoon fight cloud appears and they start to move around the room fighting! The scene changes to Joseph and Philip.

Philip: So wait, my logic was wrong! If the original narrator were working today, William wouldn't be caught.

Joseph: Well duuh, who puts together a random phrase and thinks that would solve a whole case that easily?

Philip: It works in the movies.

Joseph: Well, at least MY logic was right! I told ya it's always the first person to be interrogated, didn't I?

Philip looks angrily at Joseph and then at the screen, and shows a sign saying "Cliché ending, isn't it?"

[love-and-monsters]

Talsim pt. 3

Told you I’d be back with something else today! Enjoy another installment in my Fae soulmate series.

Male Fae X Female reader, 4452 words

Your stomach growled and you hunched further in on yourself. The ship rocked in the storm and salt water splashed overboard, spraying you. You couldn’t stay under the deck any longer, though. Not where the body of your sister rotted. Not where rats infested the body of your mother. Your father lived, but barely, sick as he was.

A chill wracked your body and you tried not to cry. The food was gone. Once your father had fallen sick, the ship had drifted off course and in the weeks spent trying to prevent your family from dying, the food had been gradually eaten away.

The disease that had swept through the ship had killed most people. You were next, you were certain. Already, you could feel the chill and hot flashes that signaled the disease’s beginning. Not that it mattered. Most of the crew was gone. The ship would not make it to land.

You gave a hacking, rasping cough as another wave of saltwater fell over you. It was only a matter of time, of waiting. Would the ocean or the sickness claim you first? Or would it be starvation and lack of water? Despair flooded you and you began to sob.

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up, disoriented. Talsim had gathered most of the blankets around him so you were shivering in the cool night air. The phantom sensations of the dream washed over you, the fever and rocking of the storm. It had been a dream, but it had seemed so real. So awfully vivid. You had known the dead people in your dream, known them intimately.

Tears welled up again and you tried to choke them back. Talsim groaned and twitched. “Mm. What… What’s going on?” He tried to squirm out from under the covers and almost fell out of bed; it was a little small for two people.

“Nothing.” Your voice was watery. You cleared your throat. A mild ache started around your temples. “Bad dream.”

Talsim rolled over, tucking a pillow under his chin. “What kind of dream?”

“I was on a boat. It was drifting in the ocean. There were other people who were sick and I was sick too. I thought I was going to die.” The throbbing in your temples got worse and you winced.

Talsim reached up and tugged on your shoulder. “Lie down.”

You sank back into bed. Talsim rubbed a thumb over your temple. “How’s the headache?” he asked.

“How did you know I had a headache?” you asked.

“That wasn’t just a nightmare. It was a memory. You always get achy after you have one of those dreams.” His thumb moved in gentle circles on your temple. The pain eased.

“That ship, my family… that was real?” Your voice broke on the last word. Talsim nodded. “Did I die?”

“No. That was… your fifth life. You’d just turned twenty. I found you less than a day later. You were sick already at that point, and everyone else was dead or close to death. I took you back to land and found a healer. You pulled through.”

“Okay.” You sagged against him.

“Does your head feel better?” he asked. You nodded. “Good. Now go back to sleep.” He settled back into bed and closed his eyes.

Sleep evaded you. It was hard to keep your eyes closed when images of your father’s sunken face kept rising into your mind. Eventually, you gave up on sleeping entirely and wandered downstairs to get something to eat.

When the sun started to rise, Talsim walked into the kitchen. “Did you sleep?” he asked.

“No. Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “And I have work in less than an hour, so might as well get a jump on the day.”

Talsim pulled a face. “Ew. Work.” He opened the fridge and poked around inside. “Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick?”

“No. I’m not sick.”

“You will be.” He pulled out a carton of yogurt and closed the fridge. “Those dreams usually happen when another bout of memories is going to come on.”

“I haven’t had one of those headaches in over a week. And the last one wasn’t that bad. And I can’t afford to miss work again.”

Talsim frowned, but he ate his yogurt in silence. You gathered up your belongings and headed toward the door. “I’ll see you later,” you said. Talsim waved and you headed out the door.

The coffee shop you worked at was only a couple of blocks from your house and it was warm enough that walking was a good enough way to get there.

You walked into the coffee shop and clocked in. There was a familiar routine to your work that you rapidly sank into.

Until, of course, Talsim strolled in the door.

You nearly dropped the cup of coffee you were making. Talsim grinned at you and strolled over.

“Hi, sweetness,” he purred. “Thought I’d pop by for a visit. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I’m not supposed to talk at work, though,” you said. Talsim pouted. “Sorry. I’ll get in trouble.”

Talsim sighed. “All right. Get me a large cappuccino, then.” He passed you a few bills. You wondered where he’d managed to get the money. Did he have some kind of job you didn’t know about? You couldn’t imagine he’d have the patience.

You handed over the cappuccino a few minutes later and Talsim took a sip. He pulled a small face. “You didn’t put a lot of care in this,” he said.

“We’re not paid for passion, we’re paid for getting it done quick,” you said. Talsim snorted, a faint smile drawing across his face. He gave you a small wave and a generous tip, then strode over to a table near the large front window of the store.

You kept an eye on him as you continued your work. He stayed at the table even after he’d finished his coffee, scrolling absently through his phone. A few people stopped by and struck up a conversation with him, but they never stayed for long.

Toward the last hour of your shift, you started to feel uncomfortable. The muscles along the back of your neck kept tensing and aching. Gradually, the pain spread along your temples. It felt like your head was being squeezed by an industrial machine. You sagged over the front counter. Talsim tilted his head, trying to catch your eye. Concern was clear on his features.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you muttered to a coworker, and headed into the back of the shop.

The bathroom door clicked shut and the pain spiked to crushing levels. You sagged to the ground.

There was a rushing noise and Talsim was there, crouching in front of you. “Headache?” he asked. You nodded. “Lie down, then.”

He guided your head back onto his lap, kneading at your temples. The pain eased, but the memories surging through your mind distracted you. Your body twisted as it tried to keep up with the sensory input. Talsim murmured soothingly.

“Shh. It’ll be all right. Breathe through it. Just breathe.” It was a struggle to gulp air enough for your screaming lungs. “That’s it. Good, good. Keep breathing. Just like that.”

Tears streamed down your face. You felt overwhelmed, unable to keep up with your feelings, with your head. Talsim kept you still, rubbing out the tension that kept gathering at your temples.

Gradually, bit by bit, the tension faded. You curled up in Talsim’s lap, feeling spent. He stroked your sweaty forehead. “Breathe. You’re all right.”

Slowly, you sat up. “I should get back to work,” you muttered. “Someone’s going to come looking for me.”

“Just sit for a moment longer,” Talsim said. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m okay.” You got carefully to your feet, Talsim still supporting you. He gave you an uncertain look. “I only have, like, half an hour left on my shift. I’ll manage.”

Talsim frowned. “If you’re sure. I’ll see you when you get off.” He vanished and you washed off before heading back out.

Half an hour later, you were freed and you couldn’t get out of the building fast enough. Talsim was waiting for you, leaning against the side of the building.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he fell into step next to you.

“Yeah.” As if to contradict you, the muscles of your neck and head tensed. You stopped, grimacing. Talsim grabbed your shoulder to steady you.

“Still aching?” he asked. You nodded.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Poor thing. You’re still tense.” He trailed a hand down your spine. “You need something to help you relax.”

You glanced at him. “What did you have in mind?”

Talsim grinned, then bent over and scooped you up into his arms. You yelped, throwing your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you home!” he grinned. “You deserve the rest.” You settled into his grip and he carried you the rest of the way to your house. The door opened with a flick of his wrist and he took you up the stairs and into your room.

He dropped you gently on the bed, closing the door behind you. “Okay,” he said. “Strip.”

You stared at him. “Well, not completely,” he said. “But I want to give you a massage. Take off your shirt.”

You tugged your shirt off, feeling cool air tickle against your skin. Talsim gestured for you to lie down. With a flick of his fingers, the lights dimmed and a bottle of sweet-smelling oil appeared in his hands. “Relax,” he said. There was the lightest brush of his hands over your skin. Your heart rate ticked up a notch.

“Are you still in pain?” Talsim asked.

“No,” you said. “Just tense.”

“I know. I can feel it.” His hands moved over your skin again, this time with more pressure. “Lie your arms at your sides. There you go.” Once you were in the position he wanted, he started to dig his fingers into the knots in your muscles.

He started up near the base of your neck, working out toward your shoulders. His hands were warm. They felt like heating pads, leeching tension from your muscles. The oil was sweet and slick against your skin. Little groans of satisfaction slipped from your throat as Talsim dug in.

The massage was an odd mix of pain and pleasure, your sore muscles protesting Talsim’s work. And yet the feeling of him reliving some of the tension was amazing. You drifted in and out of wakefulness, trying not to fall fully asleep. Your mind felt hazy, dim. All that mattered was Talsim’s hands along your back, relaxing you.

Eventually, he leaned back. “Better?” he asked.

You turned your head to look at him. “You’re really good at that.”

“I am,” he agreed. “You were very tense. Maybe we should do this more often?”

“That would be nice.” Slowly, you sat up, trying to remember how to get your flimsy muscles to work again. Talsim leaned back into bed next to you. His arm looped around your shoulder.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” he asked. You nodded. “Hm. Bummer.”

“I don’t work all day. We can do something afterward,” you said. Talsim tilted his head thoughtfully.      

“I suppose. Would you be willing to do something with me after work?” He trailed his fingertips along your shoulder, drawing little circles with a light touch.

“I’m always willing to spend time with you.”

Talsim pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Wonderful.”

Eventually, you were hungry enough that you finally had to get out of bed. Talsim followed you, as he usually did, watching as you made yourself dinner. He sniped bits and pieces of your meal as you made it, laughing cheerfully whenever you swatted his hands away.

By night, Talsim had wrapped himself around you like a boa constrictor. His face was nestled firmly in your shoulder, warm breath tickling your neck. All of his limbs clutched at you. He was half-asleep, only conscious enough to grab at you when you tried to get out of bed.

“Don’t,” he mumbled.

“I have to go change into my pajamas.”

“No, you don’t.” He hauled you back into bed with little effort.

“Yes, I do.” You made your tone firmer and he relented with a pout. By the time you had finished getting ready for bed, he was fully awake, obviously waiting for you.

The bed was technically too small for two people, which meant that when you got into it with him, you had to snuggle very close together. Talsim clearly didn’t mind. He wrapped himself around you like he had before. One of his hands carded through your hair.

You drifted into sleep. Your dreams were vivid and kept sending you back to wakefulness, though they evaporated soon after you opened your eyes. Talsim stirred every time you did, murmuring soothingly until you fell back asleep.

Naturally, such a restless night meant you weren’t well-rested when you had to set off for work. Talsim plied you, trying to get you to remain in bed, but you left anyway. Your day at work passed without another headache and when you left, Talsim was waiting for you.

“Do you want to go now?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I change?” you said, gesturing to your uniform.

“There are clothes at my place,” he said. “Should fit.”

You weren’t entirely sure how or why he had gotten clothes that would fit you at his place, but he probably wanted you to take them for a reason. “Okay, then.”

His hand seized yours and he pulled you away from the people on the street. Three steps in, there was a wooshing noise around you and the scenery changed.

Talsim’s room felt otherworldly, almost dreamlike. It was large, with a great, circular bed in the middle, and everything seemed tinged with pink light. The gauzy canopy that surrounded the bed seemed to sway slightly, despite there being no wind. There seemed to almost be shifting colors on the wall, like we were underwater, though the color was pink, not blue.

Something niggled at the back of your mind, a weird sense of being off balance. You frowned at the glittering jewels that hung with the canopy. “Did you… change something?”

Talsim beamed. “Altered the canopy a little. The jewels used to be blue, remember?”

“Sort of.” You couldn’t really summon a picture of it to your mind. There was just the sense that something was a little different.

Talsim opened a door and stepped inside. It was a frankly enormous walk-in closet, with clothes from all different periods and culture. He searched for a moment before bringing out a set of thick, denim jeans and a jacket.

“Here.” He passed it to you, then returned to the closet and pulled out a pair of hiking boots.

You hesitated. He sat down on the bed, apparently waiting. “Uh, is there a room I can change in?” you asked.

Talsim’s face fell. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

“In other lives,” you clarified and he nodded. When you still looked hesitant, he sighed and gestured toward another door you hadn’t noticed right away.

“When you’re ready,” he said in a gentler voice.

The room he had gestured to was a bathroom, literally. It contained an enormous bath, though it looked a lot more like a swimming pool, in size and shape. There were several spigots along the wall. Next to you was a large cabinet that was full of bottles and creams and bath bombs and the like. You changed quickly, folding your clothes in your arms.

Talsim took your uniform when you exited. He’d changed too, into an outfit similar to yours. His gaze flickered over you and a smile crossed his face. “You look good.”

The clothes were well-fitted to your body, in a way most off-the-rack clothes weren’t. “Yeah,” you said. “Where did you get these?”

Talsim tilted his head to one side. “I don’t remember. I don’t pay much attention to store names. I just picked something that looked about your size and modified it a little.”

Ah. That explained why they fit you so well. “How’d you know what size I am?”

“Practice. I’ve had to guesstimate your size for you a few times. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” His hands came to your shoulders, moving down only a little before hesitating. “Everything feels all right?”

“Yes,” you said, trying not to be overly focused on his touch. Just like that, he reached down, hooked an arm behind your knees, and lifted you against his chest.

Your head ended up pressed to his shoulder. His cheek brushed against the top of your head. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“Uh,” you said, clinging to his shirt. His arms were strong, but you still felt a little like you were going to fall at any moment. “What are you doing?”

His wings unfolded, pale magenta and shimmering. “We’re going for a quick flight, of course.” The wings whirred and he lifted a few inches off the ground. You grabbed onto him. “Easy,” he said in a gentle voice. “Not scared of heights, are you?”

“Not exactly,” you said. “I am a little scared of being carried around while flying, though.”

“I’m not going to drop you,” Talsim said. “Don’t you trust me?” He gave you a pouting look.

“I trust you,” you said. “I’m just nervous.”

“I promise, nothing will happen,” Talsim said. “I wouldn’t do anything I thought would hurt you.” His voice was quiet and utterly sincere. “We can land if you don’t like it.”

“All right,” you said. Talsim’s wings whirred at an even faster pace. He moved to the window, pulled it open, and darted outside.

The ground was a dizzying distance away. You stared at it as it blurred underneath you. A river carved through a rocky valley, fading into a forest. For a little while, the trees were a vibrant green, but gradually, they became mottled with yellows and reds and oranges.

You leaned forward a bit too far and felt Talsim’s grip falter. He clutched at you. “Careful!” he yelped. A bolt of magic pushed at you, settling you back in his arms. “I know I said I would hold onto you, but that doesn’t count if you throw yourself out of my arms.”

“I was just trying to look,” you said. Talsim slowed down, coming to a hover.

“We’re almost there, anyway,” he said. His wings slowed and he began a controlled descent. The sea of trees beneath you grew more distinct until you could make out individual branches. Talsim wove between the treetops until he found a particularly large bough. He landed lightly on it. The branch was thick as a sidewalk and peeking over the edge was dizzying. You couldn’t see the ground. Beneath you was just an endless sea of branches and leaves.

“How tall are these trees?” you asked.

“Not sure. Much taller than any in the human realm. They’ve been around for much longer,” Talsim said. He rested a hand on your back. “It’s one of the older forests in the Autumn District.”

“Autumn District?”

“We don’t have seasons here. We have districts. Summer, Spring, Winter, and Autmun.” He gestured at the trees. “I live in the Spring District, which is obviously the best one, but the others are nice for a visit.”

He took a few steps along the tree branch, looking back at you. “The Autumn District in particular is a nice place for a walk.” He held out a hand.

You took it, staying close to his side. There was enough space on the branch for both of you to stand next to each other, but you had to stay close. Talsim took a few steps along the branch, pulling you gently. His wings fluttered and, in a graceful, dancer’s motion, he jumped between branches.

The new one was slightly below yours, and a tiny bit thinner. Talsim’s grip on your hand forced you to follow him, even as you pulled away, windmilling your free arm. “What are you doing?” you yelped.

As your feet left the branch, you were aware that you weren’t falling. You were drifting in the direction Talsim tugged you. Magic tingled through your fingertips and sparked against your skin. Talsim gave another gentle pull on your arm and you floated down to land on the branch next to him.

Hitting the solid ground sent a shock through you and you stumbled into his side. “Careful there,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “You all right?”

“I think so,” you said breathlessly. “Can we do that again?”

Talsim let out a delighted laugh. “What else would we be here for?” He sprang from the branch to one nearly level with it. There was a moment of weightlessness, then your feet hit the rough bark with a jolt. Talsim clutched at your hands to steady you. His wings fluttered, blurring with motion. “Ready?” You nodded. “Let’s go!”

He sprang up, pulling you up to the next branch with him. As soon as you landed, you were off again, springing through the trees. Your wild, uncontrollable laughter and whooping trailed through the trees behind you as you moved. Talsim kept up the pace, pulling you through the trees in a constant cycle of leap, float, and land.

You were pretty sure you were heading somewhere in particular. Talsim seemed to have a destination in mind, as he was consistently moving in the same direction. Exactly what you were heading toward, you were uncertain. But if Talsim was planning it, you would probably enjoy it.

You landed awkwardly on the next branch and Talsim stopped, steadying you against him. “Okay there?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you panted, then you realized that you were panting. And your knees felt like water. You’d been so distracted that you hadn’t realized what a physical effort leaping between the trees had been. “I think… I just need a minute.”

“We’re almost there,” Talsim said, leaning over the edge of the branch to peer toward the ground. “One more jump.”

“Fine. One more.” You took a deep breath and Talsim jumped.

His wings fluttered, slowing your fall. You wrapped your arms around him as he drifted carefully down between the branches.

He landed tentatively on an enormous branch. It was several feet wide, though the slope toward the edges seemed dangerous to walk on. You were solidly in the middle, though. And also solidly in the middle was a pool of water.

You stepped forward, peering into the pool. The branch had a knot in it, a protruding edge that sank into a deep pool. It must have collected between rains. As you looked at it, the water shifted slightly, rippling in tiny, constant waves.

The water was pretty. There was some small silvery shimmer on the surface and the center of the pool was a deep purple, which was unusual, but other than that, it seemed rather ordinary. Not worth traveling all that way, certainly. You glanced back at Talsim and he gave you a grin.

“Not impressed?” he said in a gently teasing tone.

“Is there something special about it?” you asked.

“Not on its own,” he said. “But if you reach down inside it…” He knelt next to you, plunging his arm in the water. It seemed viscous, the way it gathered around his arm like it was reluctant to let him go.

He yanked suddenly and the water released him to fast he tumbled backward. You yelped, half expecting him to fall off the edge, but he recovered quickly and thrust his hand toward you.

Sitting in his palm was a pearlescent ball, swirling with a galaxy of colors. It was dizzying to look at. He looked so pleased with himself that you felt a little bad for still not being impressed. “Uh. What is it?”

He looked down at it. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It’s… a ball.” He shifted his hand, rolling it around in his palm. “But it also makes a very good paint.”

There was a pen in his hand, one of the old-fashioned fountain pens. He plunged the pointed tip into the ball and liquid gushed forth. You thought it was black for a second, then color bled through it like an oil slick, deep purples and flaming reds that melted into rich greens and bright oranges, then midnight blues and piercing yellow. Talsim drew your attention, flicking the pen in his fingers before placing the tip to his skin and drawing.

The ink followed his motions for about a second before deviating into its own fractal swirls. It looked like dropping liquid onto a hydrophobic surface, where it broke apart into delicate lines. The colors continued to shimmer, making the pattern almost hypnotic.

Talsim shook his forearm and the ink dispersed. You shook your head, trying to clear the images that were dancing behind your eyes. “Woah.”

“It’s a little dangerous when it’s wet,” he said, “but with practice it can make beautiful patterns.”

“I’ll say,” you agreed. You could already think of how beautiful one of your vases would be with a color and pattern like that. “Is there more stuff like that here?”

“There’s more stuff that can be used as dyes and the like. They make some interesting colors and patterns. But I thought this would be nice, for your pottery.” He looked at you hopefully.

You took the ball, carefully cradling it in your hands. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Mm. Just don’t use it without me. Like I said, it can be dangerous when wet.” His wings buzzed, lifting him slightly off the branch as you peered around for any other mysterious plants that could double as art supplies.

“Is there anything else like this?” you asked.

“Not exactly like that. But yes, there are some things.” He laughed when you glanced around impatiently. “In time. It’s getting late.”

Time was hard to tell in the Fae Realm. The days started and ended at different times than in your world. Despite the sun indicating that it was just past noon, your phone said that it was past five back home. As you became aware of the time, you realized that you were also hungry.

“You’re right. But can we stop at the studio to drop off the paint first?” Talsim nodded and offered you his arm.

“Come on, sweetness.” You stepped forward to grab his arm and he ducked down for a brief kiss before you both popped into the aether.

[darkhymns-fic]

For Sweet Cookies and Almost-Dates

Sheena wants to ask Colette out on a date. Zelos tries to help. But Sheena is just that good at self-sabotaging.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Sheena Fujibayashi/Colette Brunel, Zelos Wilder, Raine Sage Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Made for @talesfemslashweek​ and the first prompt! Cookies - First Love. I wrote this as very silly, forgive me.

---

“Sheena, babe. It’s now or never.”

“I know what I’m doing, okay?! And don't call me that!” Sheena gripped her arms tight, pacing back and forth inside the house. Not like her status as Chief allowed her much time for luxury, and with some of her friends visiting Mizuho again, she couldn’t waste this opportunity.

Zelos sat on the floor, shifting every so often and so goddamn unused to Mizuho’s seating arrangements. “Seriously though. Little Angel’s only here for a bit anyway. Us former Chosens gotta reassure the new world and all.”

“Oh my god, just shut up.” Sheena pushed back her hair, knowing she messed it up again for the billionth time. “Okay, I’m ready. Now back off and don’t leer for once in your life.”

Zelos just shrugged, already prepared for Sheena to crash and burn.

---

“I’m just saying,” Raine was postulating, looking down at the outdoor grill set that some locals were using to cook up their fish supper. “If you add a nice confectionary taste to it… say some strawberry tarts, or some pudding, it would really balance well with the crispiness of the food.”

Usually where Genis would calm his sister down, Colette only approved of it, delightfully clapping her hands. “That’s such a creative idea, Professor!”

Sheena, who was just a few feet away, ignored the nightmarish dinner suggestion, and walked straight up to the ex-Chosen girl. “Hey.”

Colette turned around, her smile never wavering. “Sheena! It’s been so long. Sorry, we were both just traveling so much, or we would have visited sooner.”

“Oh, that’s um, that’s not a problem at all!” Sheena responded with too high of a voice. She cleared her throat. “Not like I wasn’t busy being Chief and all! I don’t think even Lloyd and Genis have stopped by yet.”

“Oh, that’s right. They’re really working hard on gathering the Exspheres!”

If they continued this conversation, Colette would just start talking about their friends and all they were doing, all while Raine side-eyed with some suspicion. But she would stand her ground. She would do what she came to do, what she had wanted to ever since Colette had kindly asked for her name despite being marked for assassination.

Colette, would you like to go out with me? Like, to have lunch? In, in a date kind of way? Not just as friends. Unless you want us to be friends? W-why am I messing up in my own fantasy?

“Colette.” She said suddenly, just dropping the name from her mouth like a lead weight. The addressed girl gave Sheena her full attention. Then blinked when nothing followed up.

Sheena started again. “Colette,” she said once more, but still… that was it.

“Um, yes, Sheena? I’m still here!”

God damn it she was so cute. Sheena took another breath, clenched her fists, and leaned forward to give it her all. “Colette!”

Colette flinched from the loudness of her voice. So did Raine, who frowned disapprovingly. “Excuse me, there is no need to shout.”

Faced with the Professor who never really trusted her, and the wondering eyes of the girl she liked, Sheena was faced with a decision that would define her from then on.

She hightailed it out of there, right in front of her friends and people.

---

“Man, Sheena. I didn’t think you’d blow it this bad…” Zelos shook his head, leaning away from one of the house’s windows once she came back in.

“You were watching!? I told you to lay off!”

“Clearly you need a master to show you the ropes. Here, lemme practice one of my best pick-up lines.” Zelos winked, flicking a strand of red hair over his shoulder. “Or I could just go over to angel face herself and demonstrate-”

“You’re going to do nothing to me, or to Colette, unless you want a knee to your stomach.” Sheena took another breath, loosening up her limbs as she prepared herself once again. “I can do this. So just… stop trying to make me feel bad about it.”

Zelos had a serious look on his face, all traces of his amusement gone. “Hey, I know you can do it, Sheena.” Then a grin. “But you can’t blame me for enjoying all the trial and error stuff going on, too! Ah, the beauty of first love~”

“Ugh.”

---

“Hello there, young lady! Are you here to buy my secret notebook?”

Colette shook her head. “Oh, that’s okay! I’m sure we got that the last time we were here, too!”

“Ah, I recognize you now!” The shopkeeper was the only one of his kind in Mizuho, though he still dressed in his traditional ninja garb as he doled out his deals. “Then that means you’re on the lookout for an assortment of secrets. Or maybe… you’re looking to be my new secretary? Eh?”

Colette blinked. “No, I don’t think so!”

“Well, I have all sorts of other secretive wares that you might be interested in-“

“Oh, a doggie!” Colette gasped at the little canine seated by the stall, a Shiba Inu with a wide smile and a short wagging tail.

“Ah, that’s my dog, Secretariat! Please no petting.”

How is he able to… do that actually? But Sheena had no time for worrying about mysterious shopkeepers and their weird way of talking. She walked up to Colette again, breathing out a sigh of relief when she saw that Raine was nowhere in sight.

Colette still had her good hearing though and turned quickly to Sheena. “Hi! I was wondering where you went!”

“Chief Sheena! Are you here to share some sec-”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Sheena closed her eyes for a moment, then faced Colette again. “Look, I just- I mean, um, I want to ask you something!”

“Oh, of course!” Colette waited there for Sheena’s question patiently.

The wind blew through the trees in the following awkward silence. Even the shopkeeper had to turn away, no longer so confident about his secret wares.

“Do you…uh…” Sheena’s mouth went dry instantly. Not even with Lloyd had she been this weird about it! “Do you… are you having fun traveling with Raine?” Why am I so bad at this?

Colette looked a bit surprised at the question, and… there was something else in her eyes. But it went away before Sheena could observe it better. For an information-gathering ninja, Sheena couldn’t really read people well, she realized…

“I have! It’s been so helpful having the Professor along when we’re traveling to the other cities. We’ve also been trying to help the half-elves we come across whenever we can.”

“That sounds good! Great!” Sheena said probably way too enthusiastically. “I mean, I think I might not do so well traveling with her myself, what with her cooking and all.” She kicked herself mentally for the comment. Why would Colette want to hear her trash talk about her own teacher?

“Oh, that’s fine. I actually…” Colette looked to the side, then leaned forward towards Sheena with a conspiratorial air. “I can control my tastebuds now, so it’s never bad when I eat her cooking! And it makes her happy, too!”

Dang, with that handy ability, they really did make the perfect traveling team. And also, just the way Colette tried to whisper her a secret was so adorable. She had to take her chance now.

“Hey, so, I got something else to tell you…” To prepare herself, she drew a big, deep breath.

And it was then that a giant bug flew right into her mouth. “Ack!”

Colette, worry etched in her features, held up her hands. “Oh! Are you okay?”

Not really, I just swallowed a bug! But she didn’t say that. She just continued to hack and cough.

The dog yipped loudly, and the shopkeeper stood back a little, probably weirded out by his Chief. Colette wasn’t moving away, however. She rushed to Sheena, placing gentle hands on her cheeks. Oh goddess oh what the hell she’s touching me she’s so close. “Just! Um, try to breathe! Should I get the Professor?”

Even after everything, Sheena still didn’t feel much affinity for Raine, but maybe that was better than dying because of a bug. This was so dumb! And gross!

But eventually, she turned away from Colette to cough out whatever bug that just decided to ruin everything. Just. Everything. But she didn’t see a bug? Did she swallow nothing? Like actual nothing?

Colette would have seen it, right? But she was still there, holding Sheena’s face in her soft hands. “Sheena?”

“W-water! Just! Um!” Sheena flinched, sneakily getting out of Colette’s hold like the top ninja village Chief she was! And then stumbled slightly as she did so. “I need water bye!”

Colette stayed in place, hands held over nothing as she watched Sheena bravely run away from her again.

---

“Hey, Sheena. Third time’s the charm, ain’t it?”

Once the ninja crawled out from under the tatami mat and her overwhelming embarrassment, she stood before Zelos and sighed. “I guess.”

Zelos was reaching into his pocket. “Here. This also swoons moi whenever the ladies do this for me!”

“That better not be a dirty euphemism, I swear to-”

“Some cookies! I mean, most people give me fish or whatever, but I remember Colette having a bit of a sweet tooth.” He tossed a small bundle of chocolate chip cookies to Sheena, who caught it deftly in her right hand despite being halfway deep in depression.

“I just give her this?” That seemed far too easy… So easy that even I can’t mess this up!

“Exactly,” Zelos then said as if he could read her mind? Could he read her mind? Please that would be a nightmare.

“Just give her the sweet cookies, and then go and sweet talk her. She’ll be all over you before you know it.”

Well, how could it get any worse?

---

What was it about Colette that she liked so much anyway?

Sheena had never connected well with anyone, certainly not in her village, even though it seemed most people accepted her now. And she definitely didn’t connect with that loud-mouthed Chosen, no matter what anyone thought! But even as she was ordered to slay Colette, something kept putting her off it (besides falling into pits).

One night, before joining Colette’s group, she had snuck into her room at an inn, kunai in hand, ready to slit her throat. But the moonlight had hit her hair in just a certain place, making Sheena blink rapidly. The girl had been pale, tucked deep underneath the covers and, for a short moment, Sheena had wanted to kiss her. Even Zelos wouldn’t have been this creepy.

But she had wanted to and had even reached out to stroke away a few strands of the girl’s hair from her face before she realized what she was doing. She had then promptly leapt out of the window in shame.

There had been other, less-weird happenings afterwards, such as sitting next to Colette by the campfire, or staying near her when the girl would stumble over a rock in their path… and then they’d both just fall over. Still, Colette never seemed to mind. The light feeling in her stomach always fluttered whenever Sheena was near her, zapping away at her voice.

Luckily, this would be a lot more different now. She would talk more! And just giving her some cookies wasn’t as weird. Or as creepy. Hopefully?

“Sheena! Are you okay now?” Colette was already rushing towards her before Sheena could prepare herself more. Had she been waiting? “I got so worried when you started choking…”

“It’s- it’s okay! Happens all the time.” Did I really just say that!? Sheena blushed, grasping the cookies tightly in her hand. “Colette, sorry, but I wanted to tell you something… and maybe it’ll be easier if I give you something instead.”

At that, she saw the wonder in Colette’s eyes, a soft smile lifting her cheeks. Even after all she had been through, she managed to be so excited and happy at times. Sheena couldn’t help but admire it fully. “You mean like a present?”

“Yeah, like that.” Okay, here goes. With a deep breath, Sheena raised up her hand that held the cookies, to present it to Colette with all the love she felt. This would be her first gift to Colette… maybe something they could even look back to, as they went on their date. Yes, she could do this! “Colette, will you go out-”

She flung the cookies straight past Colette’s head….

Straight past the small river that ran around the Chief’s house…

Straight past the startled shopkeeper tending to his not-so-secret dog…

…And right into Raine’s face as she walked up the path. Cookies exploded everywhere in a crumbly mess.

“Why do people keep throwing things at my head?!”

For the third time that day, Sheena ran away again past a wide-eyed Colette, basically stumbling into the swinging panel of the house head-first.

Even Zelos didn’t have the strength to make fun of her anymore.

---

“I’m an idiot and I should just die.”

“That’s more my line, you know,” Zelos was saying, but Sheena could tell his heart was not in it. The guy didn’t even laugh obnoxiously. That’s how she knew she messed up so badly.

She eventually was convinced to leave the house instead of burying herself under a kotatsu to wallow in her misery. Though getting a few stares here and there as she walked through the village, it was at the very least with amusement instead of vitriol? That counted for something?

Ugh, she still wanted to die though.

It was already time to say their goodbyes to Colette, and Sheena was less than thrilled. She couldn’t even force a smile. She had one task! Just one! And she couldn’t even do that. At least Zelos wasn’t making fun of her anymore. He looked about as disappointed as she was, occasionally patting her back in comfort without making it creepy. Even if he did, she didn’t have the energy to smack him anyway.

They both came near the village gates, where Raine saying something quickly to Colette, and Colette was talking back. Raine then shook her head, but Colette looked so adamant, until the Professor could only shrug. This was followed by Colette rushing over to Sheena.

“Sheena!” she shouted so suddenly, it brought the ninja out of her funk.

“Uh-”

“I have something to ask you! Um, would you, um, would you please go out with me? Like on a date, I mean? Like more than friends? But just friends is fine too…”

“I uh-”

“I think you’re very nice and so much fun, and you’re always looking out for me! If it’s okay, could we maybe go out to Meltokio next week? There’s supposed to be a festival and I’d like to be with you for that!”

“I…I…uh…”

Zelos nudged Sheena in the ribs. “Say yes, idiot,” he hissed.

“Um! Y-yes!”

Colette smiled wide at that. She even did a little hop on her toes at the answer. “That’s great! So, I will see you there next week? Or should I come here?”

“Uh.. uhhhh-”

“The Chief here would love to be picked up by her angel, as long as you both got some Rheiards!” Zelos said helpfully.

“Okay! I will be here next week! I’m so excited!” Colette reached out for a hug, which Sheena only had enough sense to return. Then once she stepped back, Colette gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Both were soon blushing fiercely.

“Ah, sorry! I just… got a little carried away.” Colette smiled nervously, but still so cutely. “I’ll see you later!” Then in a whisper. “M-maybe we can have some cookies at the festival…”

Soon she ran off back to Raine, who while clearly not approving, gave her precious student a gentle smile for her initiative.

Once both left, Sheena was still standing there, stunned.

Zelos patted her back again, this time with a little more enthusiasm. “Guess you got lucky there.”

Yeah. Yeah she did, and she was so glad for it.

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter two, segment five

Previous

Full chapter on Ao3 here

Running from your problems never works if you walk right back into them.

Johan relaxed with a cup of tea, petting Willy’s dog, Airgead. 

“How do we know each other, Joey?” Willy asked, holding onto Shawn’s hand. The irishman had a black eye but a toothy grin. Wally nodded to his brother’s question. “I know you, I know I do, but… how? How do we know each other?”

“It’s… it’s a long story,” Joey sighed, trying not to drown in his thoughts. “You know how… how I um. Messed up, very b-badly?”

“An understatement, to say the least,” Wally laughed. “I died!”

“At least he wasn’t the one who killed you,” Shawn snarked, tapping the back of Joey’s head. “I’ll never forget how that felt. Yeesh.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Joey mumbled sheepishly. “I wasn’t okay….”

“We all know that,” Wally snorted. “Never really were, were you, Jo?”

“Probably not,” Johan sighed once more, feeling so alone in a room full of people. He was not much in the mood of being around others anymore. They laughed and chatted, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the depths of the earth, never seen again, only surrounded by warmth. Airgead’s head plonked onto his lap, and he looked into the young dog’s eyes. Johan patted his head. Someone called his name. “Hm?”

“Go on,” Willy encouraged him, leaning back. “You messed up. Next?”

“Henry fixed it all up, and now we’re here,” Joey answered, and he wished that was the end of that. “Most of us haven’t mentally aged in that time, though, which I n-need to investigate more. It’s like w-we were in a stasis since 1929, and then when we came back, t-time continued on.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Marvin slowly stated, his brain going as fast as it could. “I mean… really would explain why I still feel young even though I should technically be thirty years older.”

“Yeah,” Joey trailed off, biting his lip. “I really was stuck being a teenager for thirty years… not recommended. You end up b-being foolish a-and blind.”

“Good to know,” Tian wryly replied, fiddling with his gauges. “Wasn’t really planning on doing somethin’ like that, you know.”

“I know,” Joey responded, feeling drained. He got up. “Anyone want any more tea? I’m going to get some m-more for myself.”

He left without another word, and sank against the wall of the Franks slash Flynn kitchen, breathing heavily. Gracehopper landed on his knee, trying to bring him some comfort, even a little bit. He gnashed his teeth, trying not to cry out loud, and he quickly rose, hands going to his mouth, and he ran out. He ran out of the house, and ran out of the lavender field it was surrounded by, and ran out of the city’s borders, running until he could hardly hear his thoughts, only the drumming of his feet hitting the ground, his weeping pants, and he ran until the shore of Manhattan Beach, fell to his knees, and screamed as loud as he could, his voice echoing over the ocean.

It was… terrifying… in such a comforting way. That there was something so much bigger and stronger than him, that could destroy him in moments, that he would simply drown away and never be found, discovering things that would never be spoken about just because their discoverer was dying, taking last glorious breaths of ocean water.

His head fell onto his chest, and he shook with silent sobs. The sun was on his back, setting slowly. His eyes rose to see the ocean, and he could see the red sunset reflected within it, and, while Johan was no sailor, he delighted in it. How similar he was to the ocean, that their eyes were one and the same, watery, weeping, unknown deaths hidden deep within their resecess, crying to those that would listen, and so powerfully alone. 

Joey slowly realized where he was with dismay, and begrudgingly got off of the sand, not bothering to brush it off, knowing that it would flake off on his long trek home, pulling his cloak around himself and his mask over his face, to be unfamiliar until home. Home sounded so wonderful. It sounded like Henry. Home, Henry, one and the same, though in two different places, but so similar. Firm like Henry, solid, comfortable, safe, all like him. Joey was lost in these thoughts as he slowly walked, or rather, limped his way back, knowing there were blisters on his feet and sunburn on his ears. His head was low, his eyes drooping. He was tired, but not badly so, the tiredness of ‘This is going to feel wonderful when my head hits the pillow’.

How had he run so far? How long was he running?

Miles?

He did know, and he breathed slowly as he slowly glided down the alleys. 

It was a gentle passing, he alone, he with nothing but the rising stars and moon.

Hours passed, time marked by his foot falls.

One foot in front of the other, some sand by his ankles, but not uncomfortably so, its presence oddly grounding. He walked, and walked. He passed the wharf closer to his studio, and froze, hearing murmuring voices. He made himself relax. It was just some random people. There was no need to be so nervous about everything and anything. The bridge’s wind was chilly, and he shivered, walking onwards. 

Looking out to the water beneath the bridge, he shuddered.

It looked like ink in the dark night, the black sky reflected in deep murky waters. He wondered what it was like beneath the quay, but for a brief moment. Water terrified him, as growing up in the desert, he never learned how to swim, and the rivers and oceans were so vast, dark, and horrifying, he never could bear the thought of learning now. But he leaned against the rail.

It was silent.

A hand clapped onto his mouth, another yanking back his arm, and he shrieked in pain, but it was muffled by the hand. Joey was bent over the rail, his heart pounding. He struggled against the gang that was busily restraining him, tying his feet together to a cement block and his hands behind his back. 

“Fleischer sends his regards,” was hissed in his ear, and he was yanked up by the cinderblock, thrown over the bridge. He screamed as he dropped to the water, and he felt it surge around his body, all encompassing and covering. Joey could vaguely hear above him laughter, and the sound of a car starting and going away. He cursed himself. He should have been more careful.

Panic was the next thing to fill him.

He. Could. Not. Breathe.

Writhing in the water, he looked around in a panic, everything blurry from not only his terrible vision but by the tumultuous waves above him. He felt a bump as the block hit the bottom of the river, and he closed his eyes, and would have wept if he could, but could not, and so, instead of that, he thought harder than ever before to save himself. Never before had he cared more to get away from death, normally finding it a comfort for a tranquil end, but the idea of dying at the hands of water was enough to crush him to minuscule pieces. He opened his eyes once more, calmer. A green glint caught his eye, and he knew it to be a beer bottle, thrown in by some drunkard on a rave or who knows what, he did not care at the time, or ever again. He prayed it was shattered, and that one bit of luck was given to him, that one saving grace. Wriggling over in the current, he managed to spin and grab it after three tries, and he sawed at the ropes binding his wrists, the sharp fracture cutting him in a few places accidentally, definitely getting glass into his fingers. He could feel their nibbling bites driving into his skin, puckering around the shards. Johan finally managed to break free of those ropes, and set to work on his feet, his lungs burning. He needed air, desperately! He hacked out of the ropes, and shot up, and found the surface much farther than he rather believe, and he would have torn off his cloak if he did not have faith in himself. He kicked his way up, higher, and elevating himself in the water, and he stared to the wavering moon as darkness began to cloud his vision, taking it over, water seeping into his fragile lungs. Joey’s hand felt cold, and he burst out of the water, his mask destroyed by the liquid and dripping down his face, his hair clinging to his skull, tangled to no end, but never had he been so alive, every nerve buzzing. He slowly made his way out of the water, coughing, coughing, and then, breathing. In, and out, each breath so painful, so wondrous. He collapsed on the rocks, and… breathed.

He lay on the rocky shore, air seeping out and in, his chest pressed to the cold ground, his wet cloak pressing down on him with a sensation of warmth. When the sun rose, his groggy thoughts began to clear, and with the dawn, it dawned on him that he would be late to work. Johan pushed himself off the stoney earth’s floor, and carefully began walking to the studio. On the way, he threw away the ruined mask and instead pulled his drying hood over his head. 

As he expected, he was late, and everyone stared at him as he trudged into his office. Dot knocked on his door to inform him of his meetings, stared at him, and giggled at his dazed and absentminded appearance. 

“Should I cancel these meetings, then, sir?” she asked with a smile. Johan nodded, resting his head on his desk. “Alright, Mr. Drew. Have a good da- oh, hello Dr. Stein!”

The young frenchwoman scurried away as Henry entered the office, closing the door behind himself, and walked over to Joey. 

“Where were you?” he inquired, befuddlement and some demand in his tone, his hand going to Joey’s arm to give it a grounding squeeze. His brows shot up. “And why are you… uh, moist? Did you shower in your clothes again, Joey?”

“No, I had an impromptu swimming lesson,” Joey replied, his hand going to push Henry’s away, but instead they intertwined. Henry’s thumb absentmindedly ran over the back of Joey’s hand as he looked into his eyes. Joey shifted and swallowed roughly. “....”

“You smell like the river,” Henry observed with concern, eyebrow raising. “The river is dangerous, Joey, everyone knows that. What… you’re lying, please, what happened? Why are you all wet? Were you not paying attention to where you were going?”

“I was, I was,” he insisted, crossing his heart with his spare hand. He took off his pin to check if the photographs within were damaged by the water, and found to his relief, they were not. He pinned it back, and gave the worried Henry a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Joey.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“I know what you said, and you’re not! Who tried to kill you this time!? Your hands, there’s cuts all over them, Joey, what happened!?”

Johan froze, and his jaw locked.

“Joey,” Henry breathed in sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to come home with me, and then, you’re getting out of New York for a bit. You mentioned that your cousin is in California? Go visit her. Please, just… I’ll send one of the Franks to grab tickets for you, go pack your stuff. Just do this for me, okay?”

“Don’t send me away!” Joey pleaded, gripping his desk. “W-what about the toons, th-the workers? I can’t just abandon th-them, they’re m-my, our, studio f-family! Don’t do this, to me, Henry… please, don’t.”

“I have to,” Henry insisted, his blue eyes screwed shut with internal pain. “I’m… I’m scared Johan. I worry for you. So much… I can’t stand the thought of losing you now, not after everything we’ve been through. I’ll take care of the toons, I’ll sign the checks, but Joey, if you’re dead, everything is going to fall apart. Do you understand? Do this for us.”

Joey looked around his office with torn eyes. He wanted to stay, so badly… but Henry was right. They had come so far, and it took so much work. He sighed and sank into his chair.

“Okay,” he whispered, his head lowering. “I’ll go visit Ramona. Fine. Fine! You win.”

“Joey, don’t talk like that,” Henry scolded with a groan. “You’re making it sound like I’m punishing you, but I’m not, I really am not. I promise you, I just want you to be safe. Throw them off your tail, clear the air. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” Johan replied, getting up, grabbing his cane, hobbling towards the elevator. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less, you know. It hurts more.”

“Joey, please, let’s just have a nice dinner after work,” Henry asked, hugging him on the elevator, swaying a little. “It’ll be good. Us an’ Linda, as a family for once, you’re always too busy or I’m at work, can’t we just have this one thing together?”

“I think it would be… nice…” Joey slowly agreed with Henry, his knees lowering and his head burying in Henry’s hair, he inhaling the man’s smell of strawberries. “It would be v-very nice.”

“Mm, that’s the spirit,” Henry encouraged, hugging him a little tighter. “We could have something vegetarian if that suits you.”

“Very much,” Joey admitted with a smile, getting off the stopped lift, his thin hand locked in Henry’s broad one. “What are you thinking of?”

“How much I adore you,” Henry answered without missing a beat. Joey hushed him, blushing, his steps speeding up. Henry grinned, and went on, “How much I’d like to take you to my house for a nice dinner, making sure you eat for once, relaxing on the couch with my arm around you, tight and warm, close and together. But dinner wise, I’m thinking my father’s walnut and endive salad, cause I wanna pull you close endive right in, and then if you grab some eggs from your chickens, darling, vegetarian haggis, my mom’s recipe.”

“You’re disgusting!” Johan laughed, but thought it a wonderful idea anyways. “But… that does sound interesting, honestly… you’re not going to cook it in a sheep’s stomach, are you?”

“No, no I won’t,” Henry chuckled, and patted Johan’s stomach. “I should though, you need to put on some weight.”

“Ew! No, thanks, Henry. No way.”

Johan and Henry packed in silence, though Henry insisted on being the one to pack Joey’s undergarments, making a point of packing an extra pair, grinning and raising an eyebrow as he did so, finding himself tackled under Johan’s thin and bright red frame, the lanky chicano flustered and embarrassed, and they laughed, realizing how absurd they looked. Johan carefully packaged some eggs, grabbing a loaf of honey cake with it. Henry watched him with somber eyes, which Joey caught. Joey smiled at him sadly, walking over and hugging him over the shoulders.

“It’ll be okay, Jo,” Henry assured him.

“I know,” Joey replied, hugging him tightly. “I know.”

“Let’s get back to work,” Henry told him, and so they did.

At the end of the day, they met up in the parking lot, and Henry hopped onto the back of Johan’s motorbike, and off they went, and then they were at Henry’s house. They began cooking together, and Diane dropped Linda off an hour later. She eagerly helped Henry with preparing the haggis as Johan made faces behind Henry’s back, Linda howling in laughter at each of them. Joey adored the girl, she filled his heart with so much joy.

They finished cooking, and they ate the salad together as the other food cooled, Henry and Joey swapping stories and joking, Linda adding in her own anecdotes every so often. They were safe and happy, and together. Johan even praised Henry’s cooking skills, and he pinned it on his excellent parents. They toasted strawberry champagne to Henry’s parent’s good health, and Johan's parent’s poor health, laughing their heads off as they did so. Even Linda joined in, though she was not quite sure as to the purpose of it. Henry suddenly realized that Joey technically was not of age to drink, and Johan immediately spat back that alcohol was entirely illegal anyways. Henry had nothing to say in return, and Johan sipped his drink with a smug fangy grin. 

They sat on the couch after eating, Linda sandwiched between them, Johan reading to her a story as Henry dozed off, his arm over Linda’s shoulders and hand on Joey’s shoulder. Eventually Joey put the gal to sleep, carried her to her room, and then returned to Henry, curling around him on the couch. Henry’s hand ran through his hair. 

“Your hair’s white again,” Henry commented quietly. Johan hummed in acknowledgement. “What happened? Why did you go white so soon?”

“I don’t know,” Joey replied, his eyes closed. “I think that my, uh, powers did it to me. That using them to reset left a permanent mark on me.”

“I think it’s pretty,” Henry softly remarked. Joey went still. “I always did. It’s such a… fascinating thing, your hair. Gorgeous.”

“Yours is also really w-wonderful,” Johan mumbled, blushing. “It always smells like strawberries. I, uh, like it a lot. It’s soft and I love the curls.”

“Your ears are cute,” Henry cooed, scratching behind one of them. Joey gasped, but leaned into the touch anyways, vibrating slightly. “And that’s cute, too. What is it, like, uh, purring? It’s really nice and adorable. So so cute.”

“I’m not adorable!” Joey whined, his blush going deeper into his skin, ears tilting back. Henry grinned, raising an eyebrow, scratching under Joey’s chin, messing with his short (but growing) beard, making Johan sigh and squeak with the ticklish and delightful feeling. “How d-do y-you know me s-so well?”

“Cause I love you,” Henry responded quietly. Joey looked at him with wide red eyes. Henry looked back. “I really do, a lot.”

“I love you, too, Henry,” Joey softly said, smiling. “You’re incredible. And wonderful. I trust you for everything, with everything. I adore you.”

Whatever happened on that couch, Joey did not know for certain, but he knew he felt weightless, and so happy, silently together in domestic tranquility, a sun and an icarus. But this time, his wings remained unsinged, and their binding was not physically enforced, foreheads pressed together and nothing more, but the spiritual sensation of wholeness encompassed them both to the ends of the entirety of the universes, though their own was a construct of their own making, and they built another one within it, just them two, alone together.

“Johan Icarus,” Henry murmured, tasting the name on his tongue, savoring it. “When you’re done visiting your family, come back here, as they’d never think to look here.”

“I’m sure Disney and Fleischer would think to look here, Henry, it’s rather obviou-”

“I meant your family,” Henry continued with a smirk. Joey’s mouth remained open in shock, and Henry’s hand closed it for him, pushing his chin up. “They’d never find us. Not in a million years, not a million resets.”

Joey teared up, and Henry smiled at him softly. 

“I know we’ll make it. No matter how hard it gets, we’re going to get through.”

Henry rocked Johan as he wept into his chest, comforting himself as well as the younger man, and they took solace in each other. Eventually they parted, Johan going to the guest bedroom and Henry to his own room, and called goodnights to each other.

Johan drifted to sleep, and he suddenly registered a small presence in his room. He looked up to see Linda standing in the doorway.

“Uncle Joey? Can I stay in your bed tonight?” she asked him in a loud whisper, tugging on his blanket. He lifted it up and let her crawl inside, then pulled her close and tucked the blanket around her. “Thank you.”

It was all quiet once more.

“I wish I could call you papa Joey,” she mumbled. Johan froze up again. “Cause my Daddy loves… loves you… and I love you, too. I wish he would marry you already.”

“I love you both t-too,” Joey whispered to her, hugging her tiny body. “You’re my little Linda. But… I guess Hen and I aren’t ready for that yet. Heck, we just had our first date!”

“Don’t you have a date in the park every tuesday?” Linda inquired with some wonder. “That’s what Daddy calls them.”

“I, uh, didn’t know that he called them that,” Joey bemusedly replied with a smile in his voice. “It’s sweet, but… hm. I’d call them, uh, informal meetings.”

“They’re dates,” Linda pouted. Joey chuckled, “Okay, okay.”

Joey’s door opened again. Henry slipped in.

“Can I join you?” he questioned them with a smile, and both Linda and Joey scooted to make room for him. “Linda, scooch away for a sec, I need to kiss Joey.”

“No you don’t!” Joey squeaked, turning bright red, shielded by the darkness and his deep inky skin. “You most certainly do not!”

Linda giggled as they bickered, and wiggled into the blanket, lulled to sleep by her parent’s soft and loving voices.

When Linda woke up, Joey and Henry were eating a rushed breakfast, preparing to leave for the train station, and Diane picked Linda up to take her to school. 

At the train station, Joey and Henry kept a gentleman’s distance, though Henry assisted him with his suitcase, making sure his compartment was comfortable enough, double checking his tickets with him, anxious to leave him. Joey shooed him away, and soon, the train took off. Henry waved him off from the platform, and blew him a kiss he made sure to catch.

Joey’s visit to his cousins was uneventful, though he was appalled at the conditions they were in, and made sure to fix them to the best of his ability. He was not sorry to leave them after a week and a half, and eagerly returned home, to Henry.

Though Henry was not smiling when he picked him up from the train station. He handed him a mask, and told him to put it on.

“What? Why?” Joey asked, perplexed. There was a police badge flashed in his face not a minute later. “What the hell is g-going on?”

His questions went unanswered as his hands were placed behind his back, and he was glad he put on his gloves earlier. He flinched as he heard the click of the cuffs behind him, and he felt his breathing pick up speed.

“Calm down, Joey, it will be okay,” Henry assured him, more sounding like he was trying to assure himself. “There’s no proof.”

“For what?!” he demanded as he was led away. “Can someone please tell me what’s happening?!”

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Walter Elias Disney,” he was informed. Behind the mask, his jaw dropped. Weakly, he asked, “Excuse me, what?”