#which means i go home NOT fully exhausted and brain dead every day

[lovecolibri]

"Maybe THIS notebook/planner will help me keep things together and stay on track!"

-AHDH girlie who has historically never been able to keep a diary, planner, calendar, schedule, or routine to save her life, and got distracted while hand-writing a list to look up said planner.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” 

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 9

@pocketramblr

.

Banjo took Hikage to the side while the other ghosts were still wading through their existential crisis.

"Man," he said, "Hikage, bro. You know I love you."

"You do?"

"Like... at least eighty-five percent of the time."

"Ah, continue."

"But next time you think one of us has a secret relative out there, you've got to say something so we don't get blindsided."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, then. I couldn't help but notice that both Ninth's mother and 'Tomura' share a strong resemblance to Nana."

"... I've changed my mind."

.

Although Midoriya Inko had abandoned the tech conference as soon as she heard about the attack on the USJ, she, unlike the mist villain, could not teleport. Therefore, Izuku was stuck in the nurse's office even after he had woken up and paramedics had confirmed that his injuries began and ended at bruises and quirk exhaustion. (And a potentially fractured bone in his foot, but that wasn't worth mentioning.)

Sitting next to the police officer with nothing to do was... awkward. Very awkward. His hands itched for his notebooks, but everything they brought to the USJ was evidence, and he hadn't been allowed to go back to the classroom. He wanted to know what happened to his classmates and Mr. Aizawa, who he hadn't seen since he ran away from the plaza and left him with the hand villain, and Mr. Yagi, who had really taken a beating from Nomu. Danger Sense was quiet, relatively speaking, but Float was just waiting to be used and tested.

Plus, he really, really had to talk to Mr. Yagi about that. Loads of his classmates had seen him use Float. How was he supposed to explain having Float right after telling them he probably had a sensory quirk?

Plus, if he got Float, it stood to reason that he'd get all the other One for All users' quirks as well. So he had to figure out how to make Danger Sense, Float, Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and a strength enhancement all look like the same quirk. Which, maybe they were, technically, considering that Monoma had sensed One for All as a single quirk but whatever was going on with the mist villain as multiple quirks...

Point was, One for All definitely functioned as multiple quirks.

Would his friends think he was lying? No, he'd definitely proven Danger Sense existed by predicting, however loosely, the attack.

"Hey, Tamakawa."

Izuku and the officer looked up at one of the detectives who had come to take initial statements. His name was... Tsukauchi, Izuku thought. Mr. Yagi (as Mr. Yagi) was standing behind him.

"I can take it from here. I have a few more questions for Midoriya."

"Yes, sir. Midoriya." He nodded at them as he left the room.

"How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?" asked Mr. Yagi, taking the officer's spot with a slight groan.

"Uh, better than this morning, actually," he said. "But, um, but what about you? That Nomu guy kept, um..." His eyes trailed towards the detective.

"Ah, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. He's an old friend of mine. He knows... well, just about everything about me."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, he knows about, um..."

"I know about One for All," said Tsukauchi.

"Oh," said Izuku. He rapidly gathered together his thoughts, trying to decide what the most important piece of information he had to impart was. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Aizawa? And Ingenium?"

That was most definitely not a piece of information. Stupid brain.

"The portal villain, Kurogiri, teleported Aizawa off UA grounds, but he was able to get help quickly after that. Ingenium had some injuries that need a specialist, so he went home. They'll be alright, but they'll probably have to take a few days off."

"Yes," said Tsukauchi, giving Mr. Yagi one of the driest looks Izuku had ever seen. "Because you heroes are so good about that."

"Teaching isn't exactly strenuous, Naomasa."

"Remind me again how you got injured this time."

Mr. Yagi made a face Izuku would have found hilarious under other circumstances. "That's different," he said, plaintively.

"Is it though?"

Mr. Yagi coughed. "Now, Midoriya, my boy... I'm sure you have things you want to talk about... I think I glimpsed you soaring through the air, earlier. Did you unlock the enhancement aspect of One for All?"

"No," said Izuku. "Not exactly."

.

"Well," said Mr. Yagi. "That's, hm. Certainly something."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my boy," said Mr. Yagi, patting his knee. "In fact, it's a good thing that you got Float this time. I'd be at a loss about what to do with Smokescreen or Blackwhip. But I'm fairly familiar with my master's quirk, and, well, there's someone else who I should... get back into contact with..." Mr. Yagi force the words out as if they had physically pained him to say.

Which they might have. He did have the whole... coughing... thing. Maybe he was just trying to hold one back?

"Mr. Yagi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Okay, are you sure?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring the next part up if Mr. Yagi wasn't feeling well.

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "I just, hm. It's just... history."

Izuku nodded. "So, um. Did you hear Monoma say that the mist guy - Kurogiri? - had multiple quirks, too? Like Nomu?"

The mood plummeted.

"Yes," said Tsukauchi. "He told me, and I told Toshinori. It appears that Kurogiri's warp quirk is actually several different quirks working as one. Merged together, almost."

Izuku nodded. "I was just wondering... One for All can be passed on, so... are there other quirks like that? Like, if the first person with One for All had family members or something? Or..." Izuku trailed off. Mr. Yagi now looked actively ill. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Toshinori," said Tsukauchi, "you mean you didn't tell him already?"

"In my defense, I thought he was extremely dead."

"What- Who are you talking about?"

"My boy... I think it's time to tell you a story of two brothers..."

.

"So, One for All comes with a built in nemesis? Who may be immortal?"

"That- He's not... It would appear so."

"I am somehow both surprised and not."

.

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about before your mother arrives," said Mr. Yagi.

"Please tell me it's not something worse, like me being a descendant of the guy," requested Izuku, picking the worst, most ridiculous thing he could think of.

Tsukauchi snorted, then covered the noise up with a cough.

"I seriously doubt that All for One could maintain a romantic relationship of any kind," said Mr. Yagi, "and even if you were, it wouldn't really matter. I mean, his own brother hated his guts."

.

"That's a bit extreme..." murmured Yoichi.

"Considering some of the rants we've gotten you to go on," said En, "it really isn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But the rest of it-" Yoichi promptly left to harass Second and Third.

"How can you two be so close and yet so far?" mourned Nana. "How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

"In Ninth's defense," said En, "he doesn't know what All for One looks like."

"Surely he knows what his father looks like. He sees his picture almost every day," said Hikage.

"Admittedly, I could have phrased that better, but are you rubbing that in, or are you serious? I've known you for, like, half a century and I still can't tell."

.

Despite the example being a joke, Izuku felt much better after hearing that.

"But, no, this subject is relatively neutral and nothing so dramatic. I was hoping to get your permission to tell young Aizawa about One for All."

Izuku opened and closed his mouth several times. "H-huh? Why? And why do you want my permission? You don't need my permission."

"One for All is your quirk, now," said Yagi, "and your secret. It's up to you who knows about it. Outside of an emergency, I suppose. As for why in general..." Mr. Yagi sighed. "There are things young Aizawa needs to know about the villains with multiple quirks and All for One. I can't tell you the details right now, but with how One for All is manifesting in you, if he only knows about All for One, it would be very easy for him to make incorrect assumptions."

"Oh," said Izuku. He could certainly see how that could be dangerous. He didn't want his teacher to associate him with a villain like that.

"Also, if he knows what's happening, it will be easier for him to help you," finished Mr. Yagi hopefully.

Izuku thought about it. "I guess that would be alright. But... He's not the only person who'll know about my quirk being weird and All for One, right? I mean, the Hero Commission, at least..."

"To be entirely honest with you, I tell the HPSC as little as possible about All for One and One for All."

"What? Why?" asked Izuku.

"Well-"

"Izuku!"

"Mom!"

"I'll explain later," said All Might quickly.

.

Kurogiri passed a damp washcloth over the burns on his neck. The metal of his collar was a conductor, and the charge the young man with the electricity quirk had sent through it had been significant. It was only natural for it to get hot, for it to burn.

He should go to the Doctor... Some of the collar's functionality seemed to be damaged. He brushed his mist covered fingers over the cool metal.

Tomura wouldn't tell the Doctor. Kurogiri cared deeply for Tomura, but the young man was certainly shallow and unlikely to realize the extent of Kurogiri's injuries. He was more likely to focus on his own, not insignificant, wounds.

In contrast to those, Kurogiri's paled. He wasn't nearly as important as Tomura, after all.

It should be fine to let his wounds and the collar be. It would do what it was supposed to and protect the vulnerable areas of his body, internal damage or no. He just had to be careful of the burns becoming infected, especially since he couldn't see them.

Sometimes, he wished his body was like it was before...

Kurogiri frowned at the thought even as it faded from his consciousness. He had been created by All for One fully formed. His body had always been like this.

Hadn't it?

.

Shouta had been in and out of consciousness the past few hours. Apparently he'd never been in serious danger of dying, except from shock, which was just his body being dramatic and didn't count. All his major organs were free of serious damage. He just had to regain his stamina so that Recovery Girl could heal him up, and then he'd be fine.

Unlike Tensei, apparently, who had cracked one of his engines, which needed specialist help and surgery to realign the pieces. Or All Might, who had taken hits to his old injury, and needed to take time off or lose more time from his hero form. Or his students, who hadn't been seriously injured but who were probably traumatized.

The last time he had woken up, though, Hizashi had been there. Now, All Might, Nezu, and Detective Tsukauchi were there.

"Thought I already gave my statement," said Shouta.

"You did," said Tsukauchi.

"We're here to give you more information about the attack, I'm afraid," said Nezu.

"Information I won't like?"

"It can wait until you feel better, of course."

"That's illogical," said Shouta. "The sooner I get the information, the more time I have to process it."

All Might, Yagi, sighed. "Nomu and the portal-using villain both had multiple quirks."

Shouta frowned. "You mean, they had quirks with multiple aspects?"

"No," said Nezu. "As Yagi said, they had multiple quirks. This was confirmed by both the villains' comments and by Monoma, who made contact with the portal villain and was able to copy multiple quirks."

"Kurogiri," said Shouta. "That's what the other one called him. Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded. "Indeed. We weren't sure you had heard that." He tapped his paws together. "What we are about to tell you is classified. We are only sharing it with you because of your unique position and history."

"In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage," said Yagi.

Only two things kept Shouta from leaping out the window and escaping: the fact that he was basically immobilized in plaster casts and the fact that his students were already involved in whatever this was.

"Great. What is it?"

"To begin," said Tsukauchi, "Monoma said he was able to copy three quirks from Kurogiri."

"That's up from what he could do before," observed Shouta. Stress did push quirks to improve, sometimes, although Shouta hated for the improvement to be associated with trauma.

Tsukauchi nodded. "He made note of that as well. He said he picked up a quirk that allowed him to turn his body parts into portals that led to other body parts, a quirk allowed him to temporarily teleport his body parts, and..." he trailed off.

"And a quirk that at the very least bears a strong resemblance to Shirakumo Oboro's Cloud."

"What are you saying?" asked Shouta, ignoring the way his heart had almost stopped.

"At the moment? Only that it is very strange that Kurogiri had a quirk like that, and sent you to the place where Shirakumo Oboro died."

"Oboro would never-"

"We're not saying that," interrupted Yagi. He coughed into his hand. "There's more context. Have you ever heard of the quirk bogeyman?"

.

"I can't wait to never sleep again I'm my entire life," said Shouta.

"Wait," said Tsukauchi, "it gets worse."

"How could it get worse?"

"Naomasa, you're supposed to be on my side," complained Yagi.

"I am. That's why I'll stop Eraserhead here from trying to kill you after you finish explaining."

"Well, it has to do with young Midoriya's quirk..."

.

"Let me get this straight, you gave the quirk with an immortal supervillain archenemy attached to a child... and didn't tell him that the supervillain existed."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really bad-"

"It is really bad-!"

.

"If I'd known he was still alive-"

"What part of immortal do you not understand?"

"Shouta, I, too, believed that All for One-"

"Shut up, Nezu! I don't have the energy to be mad at both of you right now!"

.

Yagi, Tsukauchi, and Nezu were all shown out by an irate nurse while a different but equally irate nurse replaced the plaster cast on Shouta's arm.

It had definitely been worth it.

.

Just because school was canceled, that didn't mean training was canceled.

... except it did, both because Inko was too stressed to let Izuku out of the house, and because Mr. Yagi had a meeting to go to about the attack.

But the second day after the attack was a different story!

That morning, Mr. Yagi pulled up in front of Izuku's apartment in Hercules (still so cool!) and picked him up.

Izuku bounced enthusiastically into the car and then froze. "Oh my gosh, what happened to your eye? Was it a villain? How hard did they hit you?" his hands fluttered. "I have some cream-"

"Oh," said Mr. Yagi, "no need, young Midoriya! I, er, sort of deserved it. It's a sort of reminder to take it easy, too. People would be disturbed to see All Might with a black eye, after all!" He smiled, then winced.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very. You should buckle up, my boy."

"Oh, right," said Izuku. "So, where are we going? You said there was someone you wanted to introduce me to."

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "My old teacher. It's been a while since I've seen him. Hopefully he won't make up for lost time with a kick to the face..."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

When Mr. Yagi spent most of the way over muttering about kicks to the face and head, Izuku decided that he should, in fact, worry about it.

.

The broken-down building was not what Izuku had been expecting.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Izuku.

"Absolutely," said Mr. Yagi, who was shaking somewhat. "This Pavlovian response only confirms it."

"Um." The building looked condemned. "Maybe he moved."

"One can only hope," said Mr. Yagi. "Maybe you sh- No. I have to see this through." He steeled himself visibly, squaring shoulders. "Please not a kick to the face," he said, under his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" asked Izuku.

"My boy, I guarantee you that he's worse."

.

"Poor kid has no idea what's coming," said Banjo. "Although we wouldn't have believed it either if we weren't riding along and watching."

"Nana," said En, "I just want to reiterate that I'm very glad you never thought about giving One for All to Gran Torino."

"Come on. Sorahiko isn't that bad," protested Nana.

"We know," said everyone else, "he's worse."

.

They walked up to the apartment building door. Mr. Yagi sighed heavily on seeing the door was hanging open, which was a radically different reaction than what Izuku would have expected.

"Is Danger Sense doing anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"Let me know if that changes."

"R-right," said Izuku. Mr. Yagi pushed the door in, and Izuku followed cautiously after him.

They went down a few hallways, peeking in rooms. Then they got to the kitchen, and Izuku covered his mouth with both hands with a gasp at the grisly, bloody scene. Gran Torino laid on the floor in a pool of red liquid. "Oh my gosh, he's-"

At the same time, Mr. Yagi said, "At least it's not a kic-"

The supposedly dead hero was suddenly airborne, and flying towards Mr. Yagi, foot first. Specifically, at his face. "You thou-"

Danger Sense spiked. It was a tiny spike, but still.

Izuku reacted. Specifically, with nerves shot by the USJ attack, he reacted violently, lashing out with a fist, swatting Gran Torino out of the air and back into the puddle of what was, in retrospect, probably diluted ketchup.

For a moment, everything was silent.

"Oh my gosh," wailed Izuku. "I assaulted a senior citizen!"

Gran Torino bounced back to his feet. "I like this kid, Toshinori!"

"I'm... glad?"

"Now show me what you've g-"

"Gran, please, we're only here for quirk help, not battle training."

"What's the difference? You're going to want to use it in battle eventually, right?"

"I mean," said Izuku, hesitantly, feeling like he had whiplash several times over, "yes?"

"See?"

"Just help with controlling Float. Please." Mr. Yagi pressed his hands together. "Please do not pick a quirk fight with a civilian teenager. Please."

"We are on private property."

"Assault is still illegal on private property."

"He's the one who hit me!"

"I know! I'm so sorry," said Izuku, doing his best to bow in the cramped space. "It was a reflex."

"After you attacked me!"

"Yeah, but you knew I was going to do that!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "Kid, I don't know how you did it, but it looks like you made this big softy grow a backbone. Next step is to see if you can get him to do this with Mirai, too."

"Um," said Izuku. "I think he already had a backbone? He's All Might, after all."

"Nah, he's just a giant spindly amoeba who needs to take better care of himself."

Mr. Yagi slumped.

"But back on topic," said Gran Torino, eyes much sharper than before. "Do you really have Nana's quirk, kid?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. It was only a little bit, during the attack, but... yeah."

"Let's see what you can do with it, then."

"Um," said Izuku.

"Gran, maybe you should get cleaned up first? Young Midoriya and I can take care of the kitchen..."

"You don't know how to turn it on, do you?"

"Not really, no," said Izuku.

"We've got our work for today cut out for us, then, don't we, you zygotes?"

Wow. Gran Torino really did call people zygotes.

Wild.

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.2

Pt. 1   Pt. 2    Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: Here is part 2! I might upload part three tonight. I’m so excited to see where this goes. It seems that the first part is doing pretty good so I might upload them faster. As always requests/asks are open! Just give me little time to get to them. Enjoy! 

Word count: 1.8K

Walking through the town, you felt an inordinate wave of liberation flow through not only you but also through Loki. It felt as if the weight of the world released itself from your shoulders. Confidence and strength soaring through the air. Loki lost his stiffness, his typical carefree nature restored once you became more grounded. 

“See, not so bad, right?”

Shaking your head, a cynical chuckle escaped your throat

“For you maybe. All these eyes on us is kinda gross.”

“It’s only because the most attractive prince has finally decided to show his face.”

You looked at Loki, amusement absent from your face. He laughed, a belly laugh almost. It was a free sound you had yet to hear from him and when you did your face painted your emotions before you had the chance to process them yourself. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yes, but you, my dear, tolerate it. So who's really at a loss in this situation?”  

“Well, it’s not me.”

“It couldn’t be me Y/N.”

“Looks like we’re both losers then Loki.”

You were approaching the main entrance of the palace and began to wonder if Loki was considering bringing you inside.

“We lost when we fell in love with each other Y/N. Listening to the heart is the most foolish thing one can do and yet here we are. Charging full speed with our eyes closed hoping we don’t trip over anything.”

Guiding you up the steps of the massive golden structure Loki called ‘home’ your nerves struck up again. 

“Seems to make sense that if we’re going full speed, might as well exploit our courtship in the place where you will eventually be spending all your time in. And with all things considered, sneaking you in is...counterproductive, to say the least.”

Exhaling, you brought yourself together and walked in front of Loki. His hand rested on your lower back escorting you inside. Grabbing fabric in your fists, you hiked your dress up a bit making sure you didn’t step on it. Walking through the main threshold, you realized you were worrying for nothing. The halls were massive, the ceiling stretching higher than you ever imagined.

 It would be a miracle if you were to run across someone you knew in a place so vast.

 You looked around in shock at everything you were being hidden from. The thought of it hopefully being yours to share with Loki in freedom and not in constraint was illuminating. One day to not only be openly in love with him but to call him your husband. Your partner for life was the solace you needed. Everything looked new to you because you had only ever seen the hallways in the dead of night to share evening visits with Loki, being as slick as one could, and it always working in your favor.

“Wow, it looks so different here with the sun shining through. Always felt like a runaway sneaking through the backways and balconies to get to your quarters.”

“And now you get to walk there like every other person in this place. Quite fancy isn’t it.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask for the smart mouth, you ass.” 

“Comfortable, are we?” 

“With you? Always.”

Finally, you two had walked up to Loki’s quarters. Opening the doors he welcomed you in and you welcomed yourself to his bed. Flopping down on the edge of it, the edge of your dress flying up and you went down. Hearing the door shut, you lifted your head up to face Loki at the door, only thing was he wasn’t there. Furrowing your brow you sat up on your elbows and by the time you looked behind you, it was too late. 

“Boo.”

Your body reacted before you could control your response. Your stomach fell to your ass, eyes widening and a sharp inhale all followed one another before you finally shook off the anxiety and realized that Loki had popped up behind you. 

“You asshole! What if I screamed, huh?”

Loki laughed falling over on the bed, your reaction to him obviously something of hilarity to him. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder in and began to pout. He caught his breath and calmed down enough so he could respond back to you. 

“You’re only screaming for one thing and unfortunately, darling, the sun’s still out. So, someone will have to wait, considering they’re so concerned about being caught.”

Loki raised his eyebrow and your mouth was agape. You squinted your eyes and an idea popped in your head. Rolling over on your knee you placed yourself on top of Loki's lap, resting your hands on his chest stealing his smirk for this moment in time.

“I can control myself...you on the other hand, once you start you can't stop.”

To emphasize your point, you rolled your hips into his and brought your body down to level his. Reaching his ear you whispered

“If you can find containment within yourself, a prize will await you this evening.”

You moved from his ear and hovered in front of his face, your lips ghosting one another. You pulled back a little bit to stare into his eyes. They were hypnotic no matter how many times you saw them. Loki’s hand trailed up your backside squeezing the mound of your ass before continuing up your back. His hand finding refuge at the nape of your neck. He pulled you back to his face, a gentleness about the entire interaction, and kissed you. 

There was a different kind of spark in this kiss, it felt electric, coursing through your veins and settling in your brain as a memory you’d never forget. Losing yourself in the thrill of it all, your hips began moving against his. Your building arousal creating a fog between you. The more you ground into the god below you, the more apparent his bulge was. Flipping you on your back Loki now held the reins of the situation. 

“Now, don’t tempt me Y/N. You have a habit of teasing and where does it always leave you?”

“At your mercy.”

“Clever girl. So if you like to save this accolade you mentioned for later, mind your manners, my love.”

He leaned down to kiss you as to punctuate his words, ending the discussion with the pull of your lips between his teeth. Hissing through the pleasure you couldn’t help but roll your hips up towards him, now being the one desperately craving friction. Testing the waters, you wanted to see how far you could push Loki to his limits. Your hand found the scruff of his neck and scrunched his hair. Sucking a breath in between his teeth, he pulled back a light laugh following. 

“I’m aware of what you’re attempting to do Y/N, and I think it would be fair for you to know that it’s a feeble attempt. Reason being, now you’re the one left in ardor.”

Loki pulled off of you but made sure to drive his point home by sliding down your body and resting between your thighs before fully standing up. You lied on the bed in slight agony of your current predicament. You sighed and brought yourself up on your elbows. Looking ahead of you, you saw Loki sitting in the massive throne chair that was in his room. It was gothic in nature yet still regal with the back of the chair rising well up behind him and the arms of it embellished with Asgardian design. 

His position in the chair was more than purposeful. His legs were spread wide, his arm resting on the arm of the throne and his hand propping up his head to look not only at you but out on the balcony. The late evening sun illuminating his eyes, bringing a whole new meaning to golden hour. He looked breathtaking and it was as if you were falling in love with him all over again.

The lust you were previously feeling was now amplified but also accompanied with adoration for your lover. You raised yourself from up off the bed and waltzed over to him. A fire behind your eyes and in your presence but you had yet to act on it. Coming in front of him, you kneeled in front of him and looked up. Two could play at this game. Your hands slid up his legs, paying special attention to his thighs and feather lightly rubbed on this. His eyes were boring through yours and you felt small under his gaze. 

The silence between you was telling, that if you were to continue with your actions there would be no waiting until later. You wanted to enjoy the silence between the two of you, so you turned your back to him now sitting on your behind, and crossed your legs. You leaned your head back so it fell in between his legs, but before fully getting settled you reached for the two books resting on the side table in front of the chair and placed them in your lap. You wiggled your hips and settled into a comfortable position. 

Resting your head back, you craned it further attempting to look at Loki. He rolled his eyes knowing exactly what you were asking for. 

“You know, if I knew how often you’d beg for these I would have never indulged in your initial request.”

“You and I both know this is enjoyable for both parties.”

Loki huffed, a silent agreement without saying explicitly that you were right. Loki began to rub your temples. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation and the loving intent of his actions. You finally felt calm and safe compared to the rest of the day which was riddled with anxiety and panic and the nagging fear of all the ‘what ifs’ you came up with. You had exhausted yourself and this simple action put you at ease. You opened your eyes for a moment and glanced down at the books in your lap trying to decipher which one was Loki’s. 

Catching a glimpse on the side you realized the one on the bottom was Loki’s current project at hand. Grabbing it, you twisted your arm behind you and slid the book into Loki’s lap knowing that sooner or later you would end up dozing off and you figured that getting this out the way would make it easier for both of you. 

“You are truly something else.”

“And you love me for it Loki.” 

“Can’t argue that one.”

A small smile painted your face before it fell back into its relaxed state and you began to drift off. Every little thing that had happened today made you feel that you were a few steps closer to getting what you so desired with Loki.

[vickyskpopkingdom]

Baekhyun :: working blues

request: Hii! Im rlly into baekhyun's new album rn and i was hoping u could write a fluff where ur just having a rough day and he sings u to sleep pls!! Rlly like ur fluff writes btw 💕💕

thank you so much for your kind words! i haven't written about exo in a long, long time but i hope that you still like what i came up with!

warnings: overworking, stress

1.8k words, gn reader

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

Sometimes you felt like the world was collapsing on you. The weight on your shoulders got too heavy at times and you were just tired. So tired, so tired. Today was one of those days.

The work you had to do didn't seem to end. At this point you couldn't even count how many e-mails you had answered, how many texts you have read, how many calls you made and how many words you have written. Your eyes were so tired they started to water at the sight of the bright screen of your laptop in front of you. When had it become so dark around you? Hasn't it been noon just a few minutes ago?

A quick glance through your bedroom window and towards the clock on your wall told you something different. It was already eight p.m., the streetlamp outside your window was the only source of light right now other than your laptop. With a sigh you leaned back into your chair and tried stretching your arms as well as your neck and legs. Every joint in your body seemed to make a protesting cracking noise and as you tried to massage your neck, your muscles burned with protest.

You sighed again. Maybe you really should invest in one of those fancy office chairs that claimed to be a blessing for your whole body. At the thought of the price however you shook that thought out of your head.

Standing up you got through another round of stretching your whole body and decided to check out the kitchen for food. It only hit you as the dim light of the fridge illuminated your face that you were supposed to go grocery shopping today. Empty shelves greeted you back and your stomach grumbled angrily.

You tried hard not to scream out of frustation. Nothing wanted to work your way these days and you were honestly so tired of it. For some time you were able to tell yourself that everything would work out and that you would find your working blues again but that was yet to happen. Quietly you closed the fridge door again, sliding down against it to the floor.

The project you had been assigned at the start of last week was way more complicated than you had anticipated, the sources you were thinking of using turned out to be a scam. Adding to that the promotion you had been so sure of getting had been given to someone else and while you could understand that they deserved it, you were sure that you would have deserved it as well. Not only was your fridge emtpty but you had been neglecting your healthy eating habits for quite some time now, which only frustated you more.

And today all of these things seemed to add up all at once, crushing you under their weight.

When was the last time you really had a good nights sleep? You had worked late and gotten up early, eating only bits and pieces of instant food, sitting at your desk all day and falling into bed only to repeat the same cycle over and over again. Right now you were fighting to keep the tears at bay but the merry-go-round in your head kept spinning, piling up more and more worries.

When was the last time you had seen your friends? When was the last time you even properly talked to them? You were always telling them that you were busy with work when they asked to hang out. They never pressured you to still come with them but you knew that they would love to see you again even for a few hours. Yet you still could not get yourself to take their invitations, the thought of your unfinished project sitting in the back of your head constantly.

When was the last time your boyfriend--?

Just as the tears started flowing down your face the doorbell rang. Its sound surprised you so much that you jumped up, your heart beating fast. The clock in your kitchen read nine p.m. One hour went by while you were staring holes in the walls and drowned in your thoughts.

You couldn't really think of a reason why someone would visit you this late, on a weekday nonetheless. But not answering the door wasn't an option either, you would just start to worry about 'what-ifs'. So you decided to take a peak through the peephole in your door.

Your heart picked up its pace at you saw a familiar face illuminated by the light of a smartphone-screen, lookin worried and confused. Fumbling with your keys you opened the door and the person looked up from their phone.

"Hey Bambi, are you okay?"

Baekhyuns voice filled your ears as soon as he looked into your face. He eyed you up and down, making sure you were alright. "I texted and tried to call you for at least two hours now. There was no reaction from you whatsoever."

As you allowed him to step into your home, you sighed. "Sorry, I threw my phone across the room at one point and didn't pick it up again."

Your boyfriend chuckled as he got rid of his shoes and coat, placing both neatly onto their usual spots in the entrance of your flat. Just the sight of him, doing everyday things, smiling, talking was an instant boost for your mood. Now that he was here you fully realized just how much you had missed his presence.

"Why would you throw your phone?", Baekhyun questioned.

You made a dismissive move with your hand, not wanting to talk about the infuriating call you had to make a few hours ago. "I was frustrated", you only said.

Together you and Baekhyun made your way towards your bedroom. Just as you stepped into the room and turned on the lights you remembered the state you left your working place in. But it was too late to make him turn around now. Quickly you tried to tidy up the place a little bit, hiding the traces of your overworking as Baekhyun cleared his throat to gain your attention.

"Are you drowning yourself in work again?"

You stopped dead in your tracks. This wasn't the first time he had seen you piling up work on your shoulders and ending up being unable to do anything else. Back then you had promised him to take better care of yourself or at least take real breaks once in a while to catch a breath.

"Maybe...."

Now it was Baekhyuns turn to sigh. "Did you eat today? And before you answer i mean 'eat a proper meal'."

Picking up your phone from the floor you sat yourself down on the bed. "No, not really. It's just this project..."

Baekhyun shook his head at you, but you still noticed the small smile on his face. "You are such a hard-working person. But you need to allow yourself some time to breathe, you know?"

His voice was calm, sounding like music to your ears. Even after all this time you had been in a relationship with him you were still surprised by how easily he could make you relax.

"Yes, I know."

"And since I am such a caring and awesome boyfriend", he said, rustling with a plastic bag you only now noticed in his hands, "I brought you some food."

As you looked into his smiling face you couldn't help but ask yourself how you got so lucky.

The meal was good, it was your favorite and having Baekhyun by your side made you feel even more grounded. It almost felt like you gained new energy after a week of complete exhaustion and constant worrying. While you were eating the both of you talked about everything and nothing, catching up, telling stories and sharing your newest netflix suggestions.

The evening proceeded and your eyes landed on the clock again. It was late, if you were still caught up in your workaholic-lifestyle you would have already been asleep right now. However surprisingly you currently were not even close to worrying about getting up the next morning. What bothered you most right now was that this evening would end and eventually you would have to go to sleep an wake up in the morning, getting back to your work.

Baekhyun seemed to notice the frown on your face sooner than you could hide it again. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged. "This is nice, simply being together with you. But you probably have to leave soon and then tomorrow I have to work on this stupid project again."

"I can stay the night, if you want me to of course."

"I didn't want to pressure you into--"

"You didn't", he interrupted you, before you could end the sentence and feel like you made him stay against his will, "I actually wanted to ask if I could stay anyways. Tomorrow is one of my free days. I could even keep you company while you work."

Your chest felt warm at his words. "I would love that."

Soon you two found yourselves back in your bed, bodies entangled with each other, quiet breaths sounding through the room. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy, but as soon as you closed your eyes all you could think of was the next morning, the project, the unanswered emails, the calls.

"Still can't calm down, Bambi?", Baekhyun whispered in your ear, while slowly stroking your hair.

With closed eyes you shook your head. "I can't take my mind off of work."

The next thing you heard was quiet humming coming from Baekhyun. You could feel the vibration of his vocal chords against your own body. His voice really was a blessing for everyones ears, he could carry emotions through singing that you weren't even able to put into words. His songs made you happy, they made you cry occasionally, they made you feel calm or made you miss something you didn't even knew existed. It was a gift.

His humming transformed into words, calmly sang into the otherwise dark and quiet room.

It's a night filled with a single stream of light

You're my timely rain, Bambi

I don't want to waste even a second of this night just

being the two of us

As you listened to his singing, you could finally feel your muscles relaxing, your brain calming down and your whole body drifting towards sleep. There were no worrysome thoughts turning your mind upside down anymore, there was only Baekhyun and his voice filling your head with images of your favorite places, your favorite memories and him. The warmth of his body under the blankets made you feel safe, at home. This was were you belonged.

And while Baekhyun continued with the song you fell into a deep sleep, one that you deserved after all the work you had done. You already knew that you found your blues again. Everything would work out again, just like you had always thought yourself. And all you had needed was just a small push in the right direction from the right person.

I don't want to wake up from this dream, keep this tempo

I hope the sun doesn't rise while I keep my eyes closed

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

I really hope you enjoyed this one! It was nice to write something again but I do feel like i am a little bit out of training i guess haha

and also if you feel like the reader in this scenario, please remember that there will be better days & that life is more than working day to day! take a break, make some tea, get some fresh air and get back to your work with a fresh mind; you can do it!!

[owl-with-a-pen]

Watching Nia straight up nuzzle Brainy in the premiere sent my soul to a very good place, so if you’re still taking prompts and wanted to maybe write a little bit of fluff involving Nia’s favorite form of affection being nuzzles and forehead touches that would be really sweet.

- Yes, of course! Nuzzling and forehead touches are the best! Thank you for the prompt! x

The last few weeks without Kara had been tough, no question about it.

Nia had been feeling the strain both at CatCo and out on the streets as Dreamer. She’d had to take on not just Kara Danver’s workload, but Supergirl’s as well. Tonight was J’onn and M’gann’s turn to take patrol, which was just as well, because when Nia finally got her key to fit through the apartment door lock, she nearly collapsed through to the other side.

It took her about two seconds to pinpoint Brainy fast asleep on the living room couch.

Despite her own exhaustion, Nia couldn't help but smile at the sight.

There were two kinds of sleep Nia often attributed to her boyfriend. The first kind was the one she was most familiar with - where Brainy was resting more out of obligation than necessity, running numerous background tasks whilst laid at Nia’s side. He'd also made mention that it gave his body a break from the strenuous activities of daily life.

The second kind was rarer - the bone-dead, exhausted kind of sleep reserved for when he’d run himself totally ragged. On occasions like that, Brainy would often deviate from his normal sleep position, his posture relaxing into the bed enough that he might curl on his side, allowing Nia to snuggle up against him or vice versa. Nia liked those times very much, especially with how infrequent they could so often be.

Recently, though, with all the work they’d both been putting into covering for Kara, searching for her signature in the Phantom Zone, they’d hardly had time for sleep at all.

In fact, the last time Nia had seen Brainy asleep like that was weeks ago - the night he’d been rescued from Leviathan’s ship.

Well, at least, it had been, until just now.

She knew that Brainy had been pushing himself more than he cared to admit. Not to say that Nia could say she’d been doing any better. She knew for a fact that Alex and Lena had been working through most nights as well. No one wanted to give up hope, and no one wanted to see what kind of nightmares their minds had in store for them should they try to close their eyes. She didn’t have to be a Dreamer to know that, but hey, it helped.

Every second Brainy wasn’t partnering with Nia for patrol, he was holed up at the Tower, running every calculation under the sun to figure out a way to get Kara back. A human might’ve fallen asleep at their desk, giving themselves at least a few moments of peace, but Brainy wasn’t wired like that. He could keep himself going for days, even weeks if he needed to.

But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t without consequence.

Alex had called Nia earlier that afternoon to let her know that she’d sent Brainy home. After god knows how long without any sleep to his name, his body had finally decided to shut down without his consent. He hadn’t exactly passed out, Alex had said, but when he’d nearly collapsed just trying to stand from his desk, she’d ordered him to go get some rest with zero room for argument.

Maybe she wasn’t technically his superior anymore, but Brainy was far too intelligent not to listen to a worried Alex Danvers.

Still, Nia understood the reason why Brainy was so unwilling to stop working, and she was half expecting to meet him at meltdown mode by the time she got home from work. Although he’d made some progress with Lena, he was still struggling with his emotions, battling between an empty hole in his chest and a slew of untameable negativity threatening to devour him whole. Over the last few weeks, the only thing he’d truly been able to fall back on was his own intellect, fully restored since he’d re-connected to the Big Brain. Not being able to work, to use that intellect towards something, must have felt like losing the last tether he had left.

Which was why Nia was so relieved to see that Brainy had managed to find some semblance of peace. His hands were clasped in a loose triangular formation across his chest, his breath easing out through half parted lips. He’d propped his head up practically with a throw pillow, almost as though he’d set himself up with the intention of continuing his background calculations. But, if the shadows beneath his eyes was any indication, that ship had sailed a long time ago.

He had one leg arched up on the sofa, his linked fingers rising and falling with every gentle heave of his chest.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, so unburdened by everything that had been holding him down. Nia wondered what he might be dreaming about – if he was dreaming anything at all.

She kicked off her shoes, slinging her bag onto the countertop before making her way over to the living room. She stopped short at the sofa’s arm, stood directly over him, Brainy’s face tipped up towards her.

Nia bit her lip, running her finger’s idly along the smooth skin where Brainy’s inhibitors used to be. When Brainy huffed out a soft sigh at the contact, relaxing further into his pillow, she grinned, bending over to press her forehead against his. His face was comfortably warm; Nia relished in the feel of him, closing her eyes.

When she finally lifted her head, she found a pair of sleep-dazed brown eyes watching her curiously.

“Hey, sleepy head,” she murmured, tucking a wayward strand of blond hair behind Brainy’s ear. She glanced to the small space at Brainy’s side, smirking mischievously. “Move over?”

Wordlessly, Brainy obliged, shuffling enough that Nia had the room to sidle into the spot next to him, snuggling up against his shoulder before finding her favourite spot at the crook of his neck. She kissed his throat playfully, grinning when Brainy wrapped his arm around her in response, holding her close.

“What time is it?” Brainy asked around a yawn, his voice thick from disuse.

“Wow, you really are tired, huh?” Nia asked, resting her chin against Brainy’s shoulder. She smiled sympathetically. “Alex told me about what happened.”

Brainy bristled immediately. “Regardless of what she told you, I did not pass out.”

“Maybe not,” Nia reasoned. “But, you exhausted yourself. Everyone needs to take a break, Brainy, it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

The tension Brainy suddenly carried in his jaw told her he wasn’t going to believe her that easily.

Nia sighed, rolling her eyes. “Besides,” she continued, tucking her hand beneath the hem of Brainy’s shirt. “I need a break, too, and you’re my favourite spot.” She felt along his abdomen, tracing her fingers around the warm protrusion of his life projector. When the tightness in Brainy’s jaw released all at once and he breathed out, closing his eyes, Nia smiled, pressing her face back into the comfort of his throat, snuggling close. She shrugged, closing her eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

She felt Brainy’s nose brush gently against her hair, a puff of warm breath dancing across her scalp. “I would want to be nowhere else,” he murmured.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hello darling! Currently obsessed with your writing! Srsly best seller list is shaking. Could I possibly request a peter Parker x reader where she falls asleep on peter while he’s doing homework at his desk and may walks in and it’s just cute and fluffy? Idk run with it. Thank you for existing!!💕

thank you!!

A Soft Place to Land

Pairing: Best Friend Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Aunt May finds you and Peter in a compromising position

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“PP.” You cut off your own sentence with a yawn. “Do you have your physics notebook?”

Peter swiveled in his chair and looked at you. You were sprawled out on his bed, lying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you, eyes dropping from exhaustion. Peters own textbooks and papers were strewn across the bed, bordering your body like an outline of chalk. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the sight, knowing his sheets would smell your perfume once you went home.

“I do.” Peter confirmed. “Do you need it?”

“Would you mind if I copied your notes? Mr. Brighton writes too fast and I missed the section on force.” You said slowly, signaling to Peter that you were beyond tired.

“No problem.” Peter smiled kindly and tossed his notebook at you. You failed to catch it and were hit in the face at full speed, letting out a surprised “oof.” Peter winced at his mistake.

“Oops.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed tiredly. “Woke me up a little.” You yawned again, this time turning away and disguising it into your shoulder so Peter wouldn’t see.

“Y/n, you should take a nap.” Peter suggested out of concern for you and your wellbeing, the only thing he was ever really concerned with. “I’ll move my stuff to the desk. You can sleep in my bed.”

Peters choice of words sent him back to another moment in time.

Peter saw you through you window and collapsed onto your fire escape. You were working diligently at your desk, and Peter hated the idea of taking you away from your work, but he needed you. Only you. Too weak to raise his arm, he hit his forehead against your window until it caught your attention.

“PP?” You asked in a hushed voice as you rushed to your window and opened it as quickly as you could. “How did you get up here? Did you climb the fire escape?”

“Not exactly.” Peter said with a pained smile as you helped him inside.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked, sounding like a parent as you sat Peter down on your bed. Peter gingerly sat down, wincing with every movement. He felt your heart rate pick up and he berated himself for worrying you.

“I climbed next to the fire escape.” Peter said sluggishly.

“On the wall?” You laughed, not believing him. You finally noticed how badly he was beaten. In the soft glow of your desk lamp, you could see bruises on Peters knuckles and under his eyes. He was sweaty and dirty, and definitely did not come from decathlon practice like he said he did. “What happened?” You asked calmly.

“I found the guy who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter have you a half hearted smile. It’d been three months since Peters uncle was shot right in front of him. Peter didn’t speak about it. He didn’t mention his name, or what happened. His casual drop of his deceased uncles name made You filly realize the extent of the situation. Peter was hurt, badly, and he had come to you. This wasn’t the time for questions. This was the time to help Peter.

“Okay.” You said calmly, looking into Peters tired eyes and giving him a comforting look. You sat down on the bed and placed a hand in his knee. “You found the guy who killed uncle Ben.” You repeated, so he knew you heard him.

“But he also found me.” Peter mumbled before collapsing forward into your arms. He was in and out of consciousness as you caught him and gently laid him on your bed, resting him against the headboard.

“Stay there.” You commanded, though he physically couldn’t disobey you. He couldn’t move. He let his aching body rest against your soft sheets, knowing they’d smell like his cologne when he went home. Peter opened one eye, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and watched you. You were in sleep shorts and an oversized decathlon t-shirt, looking as beautiful as ever. You paced back and forth around, collecting various things to patch Peter up. Your makeup free face was full of concern, which made Peters heart ache. Coincidentally, it was the only part of him not currently aching. He didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t your responsibility. But he had no where else to go.

“Okay.” You said with medical supplies stacked up to your chin. “This is all I got.”

Peter wanted to tell you that it was more than enough, but he only had the strength for a weak, “Thank you.”

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy.” You hushed up as you propped him up against your headboard again, since he had begun to slouch. He wanted to take some of the work off of you, but could only be moved around like a rag doll. He gave you a grateful smile. In your eyes, it was enough.

“I’m gonna have to…um.” Your eyes darted down to his chest. He was wearing a huge, old fashioned looking brown jacket over some light blue sweat pants and red water shoes. Had he been in better condition, you would’ve questioned his outfit. Peter looked into your eyes and gave you a tired nod. You didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. He looked almost fearful, and a little hesitant. You unbuttoned his large jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You folded it neatly, noticing the initials “BFP” on the tag. So it was Bens, you thought. He was running around the city, in the dead of night, getting beat up in Bens jacket. You gave Peter a sorrowful look before your eyes trailed down to what was under the jacket. He wore a red hoodie with a spider drawn on it in sharpie. The sleeves were cut out and blue sleeves to match his sweatpants were poorly sewn in.

“Y/n-“ Peter croaked.

“I understand.” You cut him off. You looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle smile. Your eyes told him that you were telling the truth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready. All that matters to me is getting you patched up, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said weakly, wishing he could say more. He had so much he wanted to tell you. So much.

“I’m gonna have to unzip it now.” You warned him. “Is that okay?”

Peter gave you another nod. Not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward, you quickly unzipped the hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. Peters normally scrawny body was replaced with a six pack of abs. You gulped and felt your face heat up, hoping he couldn’t tell.

He could.

A deep gash, likely from a knife, was in his lower abdomen. He had other miscellaneous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was in bad shape, worse than you thought, but nothing you couldn’t fix. Your eyes slowly trailed up his body and met his eyes. Peter was staring at you, desperate to read your reaction.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. You laughed lightly and shook your head.

“Of you, PP? You wish.” You teased. You dampened a Cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and gently dabbed it on the gash. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, and almost looked like it was healing in its own. You then applied some Neosporin and one by one, adhered a pink Hello Kitty band aid to the cut until it was covered. Peter noticed your choice of band aids and laughed, sending an ache through his chest.

“Cute.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t find the dinosaur ones.” You genuinely apologized, making Peters heart grow fonder for you.

“It’s okay.” Peter said, using all that was left if his strength to brush stray hair away from your face. You looked at him as he did it, and leaned into his hand. Peter smiled, grateful that through it all, he was still PP to you, the dumb nickname you gave him when you were kids when you couldn’t pronounce “Peter.”

“Should I be worried about you?” You whispered, your fingertips brushing his hand before closing you hand around his wrist, keeping his palm on your cheek.

“If I say no, will you be worried anyway?” Peter asked, feeling a little strength return.

“I’ll always worry about you, PP.” You said sincerely.

“I promise, I’ll explain it all one day.” Peter swore. You seemed content with his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You told him as you tilted his chin towards your face. Peter froze, thinking you were going to kiss him. Instead, you pulled out a Cotten swab and gently dabbed it on the cut on Peters lip. A plus side to his powers, hydrogen peroxide didn’t sting anymore. After cleaning the cut, you leaned in to blow on it. Your puckered lips were almost touching Peters. Peter gulped and did his best to keep his pulse from getting to crazy. You then dabbed some Neosporin on his lip and got to work on the rest of his cuts.

Peter fell asleep in the middle of you playing nurse. When he woke up, he was in your biggest shirt, and a loose pair of sweatpants he’d seen your brother wearing before. He was fully under your covers now, and resting comfortably against your pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sitting at your desk.

“Y/n?” He called out, making you turn around.

“Yes, PP?” You said.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter admitted. His mouth moved faster than his brain. He didn’t think it through. He just told you.

“No.” You said sarcastically, and shot him a smile. Peter felt relived at your reaction.

“I feel better now. I can head home.” He groaned, and painfully tried to sit up. You rushed to his side and tried to get him to lie down again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You laughed at his absurdity. “I texted May from your phone and said you were sleeping at Ned’s.”

“But I’m not.” Peter pointed out.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re sleeping here.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. That’s too much to ask.” Peter protested your hospitality.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” You assured Peter. “And of course I do. You’re my best friend. And May can’t see you like this. You’re gonna stay here tonight.” You told him, absentmindedly tucking him in. Peter laughed at you slipping into motherly behavior. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“I can’t.” You said, breaking Peter away from the memory. “I have to finish this essay.”

“What you have to do is get some sleep.” Peter insisted, throwing a paper ball at you when he noticed you beginning to doze off. “How many hours did you get last night?”

“Dunno.” You said sleepily, resting your tired head on your hand. “One-teen.”

“One-teen?” Peter asked in concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, head drooping further and further down until your arm slipped out from under you and you face planted into your textbook. “Maybe it was twelve-ty.”

“Y/n, you’re making me worried.” Peter chewed his bottom lip.

“The static on the TV makes you worried.” You pointed out.

“Because it makes a scary sound.” Peter defended. “Don’t change the subject. You need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You yawned.

“That can’t be true, because you’re the strongest person I know.” Peter quipped.

“Even stronger than that guy you fought who was made of sand?” You asked with hooded eyes.

“Yes, because he was made of sand.” Peter deadpanned.

“Mmm.” You laughed sleepily. “Sand. Yummy.”

“Okay, now I know you’re exhausted if you think sand is yummy.” Peter said, amazed that you were still in denial.

“What did you say, honey?” You murmured.

“No, not honey.” Peter laughed, cheeks hearing up at the accidental pet name. “I said yummy.”

“What’s funny?” You asked, now purposely misunderstanding him.

“Oh my goodness.” Peter laughed again. “Have you slept at all this week?”

“I have no time.” You sighed, eyes reluctantly going back to your essay.

“I can finish this essay for you.” Peter offered.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You informed him.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” Peter repeated your words from that night, wondering if you recalled that memory too.

“No, PP. You have your own work you need to do.” You insisted.

“My stuff isn’t due until next week.” Peter reminded you. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. Just this once.”

You seemed to consider his offer. “I won’t let you do my actual essay, because that’s cheating, but I’ll allow you to help me.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged.

“Okay.” You gave in and went over to where he was sitting at his desk. “Scoot.”

Peter moved over in his swivel chair and let you share the seat with him. You rested your back against the arm rest and laid your legs on top of his before handing him your laptop. “I have my thesis statement and everything else, but I have no idea if it’s even coherent. It feels a little messy.”

“Here’s what I do.” Peter began to explain how he structured his essays. About halfway though his explanation, he felt pressure on his shoulder. You had rested your head there and were listening to him with a content smile.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” You assured him, letting out another yawn after. Peter kept going and soon picked up on your breathing slowing down. You stretched a little, your nose brushing his jawline and ended up even deeper in the crook of his neck. You began to lazily play with the buttons on his button down.

“Alright.” Peter said softly, not trusting his voice to be steady. “Then, I draw back to my thesis and make a connection. It should be a very obvious connection so that the person reading it-“ Peter stopped when he heard the soft whistle of your breath. He carefully adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around you, just so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep, or at least that’s what he told himself. He also didn’t want you to slip and fall off the chair. You ended up snuggling deeper into his side and throwing an arm around his waist. Peter smiled to himself and pulled your laptop in front of him. He revised your work and nodded in approval. You didn’t have much left, just needing proofreading. Peter took his time reading your essay, editing what needed to be fixed and making some corrections. He finished in about half an hour and emailed it to your teacher. He then picked up your planner and looked at what else you needed to get done. In your signature handwriting, was the following:

Write essay Copy(steal) PP’s physics notes Find quote for English project

Peter checked the time, and then your sleeping face. It was 11 now, and your curfew was 12. He could copy his notes into your notebook and find a quote in under an hour. He’d be damned if he couldn’t. And so, Peter took out your black marble notebook with the little Spider-Man stickers and began to copy his notes down. As he worked with his right hand, his left hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back. You let out soft noises in your sleep, that Peter found it hard not to fawn over. He got halfway through copying when he door opened.

“Are you guys-,” May said at full volume until Peter held a finger to his lips. A pretty harsh finger, one might add. May grimaced and nodded. “Are you guys alright? Need anything from me?” She said in a softer tone.

“We’re okay.” Peter whispered back. “I gotta get her home soon.”

“How long has she been out?” May asked.

“About an hour.” Peter replied.

“And how much sleep had she been getting?” May sighed, knowing you and your habits.

“None.” Peter sighed as well. “I don’t want to wake her so I’ll probably swing her back home, if that’s alright.”

“But that means you’ll have to swing back alone.” May reminded him. “I thought you hated swinging that late?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d rather get her home safely. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.” May smirked, already anticipated her nephews reaction. “Holding her while she sleeps and helping her with her work.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.” Peter said quickly, and a little too loudly, causing you to stir in your sleep and hug Peter a little tighter. “I’m her best friend, who’s a boy. Not her boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” May squinted her eyes.

“Yes.” Peter stated. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“But you think of her like that.” May said, as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, no. No. She’s my friend.”

“Right. Of course.” May said sweetly. “Girlfriend.” She added under her breath.

“What was that?” Peter snapped.

“Peter, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re growing. Your body is flourishing now. It’s okay if your Peter tingle tingles just for her.” May teased.

“Please stop saying “tingle” May.” Peter groaned.

“All I’m saying is, I fell in love with my best friend too once.” May held up her hands in defense.

“Oh yeah?” Peter said sarcastically. “Then what happened?”

“Then I became Mrs. Parker.” May smiled.

Peter fell silent, focusing only on your breathing as he absentmindedly twirled your hair around his finger.

“May?” He said softly.

“Yes, Peter?” May answered.

“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter wondered out loud. It was his biggest fear. Him, finding the courage to tell you how he feels, and you rejecting him. Saying something like “aw, PP, you know I love you but-“ and then some recycled rejection that would utterly devastate Peter as he nodded along with a smile. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Do you know how she feels?” May asked, knowing a little more than Peter. She had an outsider perspective on your relationship. She saw all the stolen glances and lingering looks that you two didn’t catch.

“Yes.” Peter huffed. May tilted her head to the side.

“Did you ask?” She continued.

“No.” Peter said sheepishly, knowing the point his aunt was trying to make.

“Then you don’t know.” May told him.

“We’ve been best friends for years. She would’ve said something by now if she felt that way about me.” Peter defended.

“Have you said something?” May folded her arms.

“No.” Peter said harshly, before realizing what May was trying to say.

“Then why would you expect her to?” May delivered the final blow. Peter knew he had lost the argument.

“I don’t like it when you get all omnipotent on me.” Peter grumbled. He looked at your sleeping face and sighed. He wanted to tell you. He did. And he wanted more times like this. He’d hold you every night if he could.

“That’s what aunts are for.” May smiled in triumph. Peter was quiet again.

“May?” He said finally.

“Yes, Peter?” She asked, having a feeling where he was going with it.

“I feel that way.” He admitted, without taking his eyes off your notes. “About her.”

“I know you do, Peter.” May nodded in understanding. She could tell her nephew had feelings for you long before he knew it himself.

“What do I do?” Peter asked, looking up sadly at May.

“Talk to her. You’ll know where to go from there.” May advised.

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked.

“She’ll know.” May said with an all knowing smile. She blew Peter a goodnight kiss and shut the door quietly. You stirred at the sound and slowly took your head off Peters shoulder. He went back to his work and pretended he never stopped it as you stretched.

“What time is it, PP?” You asked through a yawn.

“Quarter after 11.” Peter answered you, speaking in a low tone so you didn’t get startled.

“I gotta get home soon.” You sighed and adjusted your position, never taking your legs off his lap. You stretched towards the sky, but wrapped your seams around Peters neck this time when you finished. He felt his ears burn at your half asleep action. You were always clingy when you were tired, and right now, you were exhausted.

“I’ll swing you back.” Peter offered, pretending to be fully invested on your notes and not on the way your breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t have to.” You told him as you rubbed your eyes.

“And let you walk home in the dark all alone? I don’t think so.” Peter sounded almost insulted, but still had his signature playful tone.

You laughed lightly and rested your head back on Peters shoulder. He didn’t complain. He’d been missing the warmth you created.

“May was right.” You said quietly through a sleepy smile. Peter was a good boyfriend, you thought.

“What was that?” Peter asked. He had heard, but didn’t know what you meant.

“Nothing. Just a dream I had.” You shrugged and sighed in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh.” Peter said, not sure what else to say.

“Do you ever have those dreams that make you wake up with crushes on people you didn’t think you’d have a crush on?” You asked him, feeling a little more awake. The nap had helped, though you’d never admit it to Peter.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you had? Do you have a crush on a boy at school?” Peter asked, jealously seeping into him like water through a crack in a boat.

“Kind of.” You nodded. “I had a dream a boy confessed his feelings for me, but not to me.”

“Oh.” Peter said simply. “How do you feel now?”

“Disappointed.” You laughed sadly.

“You’re disappointed that the boy likes you?” Peter said, barely covering up the sadness in his voice. He knew he was the boy. You must’ve heard the conversation with May in your sleep and thought you dreamed it.

“No.” You shook your head with a sleepy smile. “I’m disappointed that it was only a dream.”

Peter as quiet for awhile, thinking about what May had told him. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Peter looked you in your tired eyes. He nervously drummed his fingers on your leg.

“I wasn’t dreaming, PP, was I?” You realized suddenly. You looked to Peter for answers, who had that same look in his eyes as he did that night. Fearful, and a little hesitant.

“I like you, okay?” Peter admitted, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I like you and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend. I’m meant to be a soft place for you to land. I’m not supposed to be complicating your life and adding to your stress by developing feelings for you.” Peter said softly.

“This doesn’t complicate my life.” You said pointedly as you put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. “This only makes it better.”

“You like me?” Peter asked, wondering now if he was the one dreaming. “You like me, like me?”

“I do.” You smiled, your gaze dropping to his lips quickly before coming back up to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna make my dream come true, PP?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer

[nightshade-minho]

-Nightmare- (6)

Warnings: You’ll lowkey want to slap both Minho and Y/n for being oblivious idiots

Over the next few days, things went by as normal as they could. Out in public, the two of you held hands, kissed cheeks and foreheads and went on fake dates. By the time Saturday rolled around, almost everyone on campus was aware of your relationship.

It was a dreary morning. You sat in your room, watching a movie on your laptop as you munched on some strawberries. You could very well watch said movie in the living room- but you didn’t want to run into Minho. When in private, the two of you now barely said a word to each other. 

Meanwhile, Minho didn’t know what to do. He wanted to apologize to you, but he never got the chance to. As soon as the two of you reached home, you would immediately walk into your room and slam the door shut.

He knew he had been an asshole, but he’d also gotten used to you forgiving him easily. He knew he deserved every bit of anger that you were directing towards him.

He was sitting on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through his phone when he received a call. He checked the caller ID and realized it was Mera. Frowning, he answered it and pressed it to his ear.

“What the fuck do you want?” He sighed. 

“Are you actually dating that skank? For real?”

He felt anger boil in him. “Don’t fucking call her that. She’s my best- I mean, girlfriend. If you’re just jealous and sore that you can’t have my dick anymore, there are plenty of other guys here that would be willing to fuck you. So leave me alone.”

She tsked. “Always so hot-headed. This isn’t a booty call, I’m just calling you so that I can warn you.”

“Warn...me...?”

“Yes. You haven’t always been very nice to me, but god you were good at fucking.”

He sighed, frustrated. 

“Rina’s still pretty mad at you. She’s also desperately trying to prove that Y/n’s not your girlfriend. You two seem pretty genuine to me, but she’s convinced that you’re faking it...which is why she invited you and Y/n to her party.”

Fuck. He’d completely forgotten about the stupid party she’d invited them to. 

“How exactly..?”

“I don’t know. Just be careful. Bye.” 

She cut the call, and Minho grunted in annoyance as he walked over to your room, knocking.

You looked up from your laptop, frowning. You elected to ignore it, but then the knocks grew so loud that you pushed the bowl of strawberries aside, opening your door with an exasperated expression on your face.

He sighed. ‘Look, I know we’re not exactly on good terms right now. But, we have a crisis. I think Rina’s onto us.”

You exasperation melted away, replaced by confusion. “What? How?”

He explained what Mera had told him, watching as your expressions contorted.

“Can’t we just...not attend the party?”

“Are you mad? I go to every party. She would immediately realize that something’s up. We have to attend. We just have to be extra alert, okay?”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, letting out a tired ‘Okay.’

He exhaled, shoving his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. I don’t have any excuses. You’ve been doing nothing but help and I’ve just continued being a complete dickhead...”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You went to close the door. “Which time should I get ready?” 

“About 10? And wait-”

You closed the door in his face. He groaned. 

***

You didn’t come out of your room till about 9:45. Minho was still in his sweatpants when you came out, nonchalantly fluffing up your hair. 

He groggily looked up, eyes widening when he saw you in your grey graphic halter-top and black ripped jeans. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, opting to just stare instead. 

You turned around, your eyes landing on him, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Minho cleared his throat as he tore his eyes away from you and stood. “I like being fashionably late. Also, where’d you get your outfit from? I’ve never seen you wear anything like that before.”

You shrugged. “Back of my closet. You were the one who told me that I had to match your aesthetic more, right?.

He nodded. “Well, you look hot.”

“Thanks.” You grinned.

He gave you an awkward smile before going to his room, finding a random grey turtleneck and leather jacket to throw on. He came back out, watching as you sat on the sofa, tapping your foot as you waited. There it was again...that feeling.

He grabbed his car keys, walking to the door. You looked up when you heard his footsteps, heart thumping at how good he looked. But then again, it wasn’t really anything new. 

***

When you reached Rina’s sorority house, you grimaced at the loud music blasting through the speakers. There were people making out even on the lawn, and the place was fully packed. You fought the urge to cover your ears and curl up into a ball on the floor. Glancing at Minho, you rolled your eyes at how he looked completely at ease. This was his habitat, after all.

You stayed by Minho’s side, silent as he was continually greeted by a lot of people you barely knew. You recognized Chan and Jisung, but none of the others. Soon, the two of you were finally able to enter the heart of the party, and you were already exhausted...by the end of the night, you were pretty sure you’d drop dead.

Minho made his way to the kitchen, grabbing your hand so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. He filled a red cup with liquid before handing it to you. You shook your head with a look of disgust and he shrugged, chugging it down and quickly replacing his cup with more. You watched uncomfortably as he was greeted by yet another guy, who gave him a high-five before chattering excitedly. Looking away, you tiredly scanned the room, boredom quickly filling your mind.

An hour went by, and you finally gave up. You snatched Minho’s half empty cup and tossed the liquid back, wincing at the taste. He gave you a look of surprise. “About time.” He said, before turning his attention to yet another person who’d come to talk to him. Hyunjin was his name. He looked nice, you noted. You crossed your arms, internally groaning, the music giving you a light headache and the alcohol burning your throat. You couldn’t fathom how this could be enjoyable in any way.

Suddenly, your eyes became aware of the redhead in the very center of the throng of dancing people. She was grinding up against a boy you thought looked familiar. In a second, you realized her eyes were on you. She smirked at you before looking away.

You poked Minho’s arm lightly. “I just saw Rina. I think she’s dancing with Juyeon.”

“Ju-who?”

“The guy at the coffee shop? He was the waiter?”

“Oh, him.” Minho scowled. His eyes searched the crowd before he found the two. He shrugged, finishing his cup before glancing at you with a glint in his eye. “Hey, wanna dance?”

You shook your head firmly. “Don’t push it. I’m still mad at you. The only reason I’m here is because of this stupid lie we’re telling everyone.” You looked back at the crowd, wrinkling your nose at the way everyone danced as if they were in a strip club. So many skimpily clad girls...you almost felt bad for Minho, having to stand by his introverted ‘girlfriend’ instead of join in on the action. You could almost sense his longing, coming off of him in waves.

You shook your head, reminding yourself that it was you helping him, and not the other way around.

***

Minho hated that for some reason, parties didn’t give him the same buzz that he used to feel. When did his definition of fun change? The amount of people coming up to him and greeting him was no longer contributing to his liveliness...instead, it tired him. He glanced at you from time to time, noting your crossed arms and curled lip, regarding the party in complete contempt. For some reason, there was a part of him that could relate.

A few hours went by, and Minho couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to grab your hand and leave, especially because the party was thinning out. A majority of the people had already left with their respective hook-ups, or were passed out on the floor.

“Hey, guys!” He groaned at the familiar voice.

You turned around, smiling at Rina.

“Where do you think you’re going? Minho, you never leave a party this early...your ‘girlfriend’ is really changing you.” She hummed. “I’d like to invite you to a little after-party with my close friends.” She gestured behind her. There were about nine people in all, excluding you and Minho. You recognized Juyeon and Mera, and the two girls from the coffee shop, but that was about it. You looked over at Minho, before sighing and nodding.

***

Half an hour later, you were sat on the floor next to your best friend.

Truth or Dare.

You were gagging internally at it. You weren’t high-schoolers anymore...surely college demanded more maturity than this? You really didn’t want to participate in this stupid game. 

Judging by the infuriating smirk on Rina’s face, you had a feeling that Mera had been right. You could feel a sense of dread surround you, and when you looked over at Minho, it was evident on his face as well.

Rina placed the bottle in the middle of the circle, spinning it eagerly. It spun around and around, coming to rest on Mera. Rina chuckled excitedly, pulling up her phone. “Truth or dare, Mer?”

She paused, feigning concentration. “Dare,” She said with a smirk.

Rina squinted at her phone. “Ah! It’s a good one. Take a fruit and eat it in the most sensual way possible.”

Mera rolled her eyes with a smile. “That’s tame as fuck.” She got up and disappeared for a while, returning with a banana.

She plopped on the floor, peeling it and getting to work. Disturbingly, she kept looking over at Minho as she did so, lewdly sucking on the phallic object while keeping eye contact with your boyfriend. (Well, fake boyfriend, but still!)

You pursed your lips, looking away...only to see Rina’s eyes on you, carefully gauging your reaction. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s move on to the next one.” 

As the bottle was spun again, your mind drifted away. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular, but your brain was yearning for your soft bed and your plushie. 

“Minho! Truth or dare?” You snapped back into the present, eyes wide. 

Minho thought for a while. “Truth.” He said simply. 

Rina tapped her chin with her finger as she read off her phone. “Ooh~ What’s the most unusual place you’ve ever had sex?”

He chuckled wryly. “There’s way too many answers for that, unfortunately...too many for me to count.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Fine. Let’s narrow the possibilities down a little bit. What’s the most unusual place you’ve had sex...with Y/n.”

A sudden coldness settled itself in you as Minho sputtered in response. “Uh...sex? Um...”

The silence that followed was too heavy for comfort. Slowly, one of the girls you didn’t know the name of spoke up. “You two...haven’t had sex yet....?”

Minho cleared hIs throat. “Uh...not yet. We’ve only been dating for like, a week...” 

A dude in the corner of the room sniggered. “Come on bro, you can’t expect us to believe that you, Lee Minho, haven’t dicked down your girlfriend yet.”

Minho met your gaze uncomfortably.

“Wait...have they even kissed?”

Rina giggled. “Oh, they have! I saw it. It’s just weird because...”

She made eye contact with you. “I distinctly remember Minho pushing her away when she did it.”

You buried your head in your hands. Everything was swimming slightly, and you felt a little sick, perhaps from the alcohol you’d ingested earlier. 

“Anyhoo, let’s move on shall we? Their relationship problems are none of our business.” Rina went to spin the bottle once more. “That is, if they even are in a relationship.” She added under her breath.

The rest of the room whispered to each other as you avoided Minho’s eyes, choosing to stare at the spinning bottle. 

“Juyeon...okay Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Rina tapped away on her phone before guffawing, a wide grin spreading across her features. “The dare is...you have to kiss the person right across you.”

It took you a few seconds to register that the person sitting right across him was you. Juyeon smirked and winked at you, before crawling closer, taking your cheek in his big hand and leaning in as you sat there dumbfounded. 

What occurred next happened so fast, that you’d miss it if you blinked.

Minho pushed Juyeon away, grabbing you and pulling you to your feet, his lips slamming against yours. You squeaked in surprise, the shock quickly giving way to a neediness that threatened to swallow you whole. You quickly melted into the kiss as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Opening your mouth, you let his tongue dance with yours as you made out passionately, choosing to ignore the flurry of whispers around you. Minho pulled away, still holding you by the waist. His eyes were burning into yours, an inexplicable emotion shining in them. Your lips felt sore and tingly, and you breathlessly leaned back in, wanting more.

The kiss that followed was softer, yet every bit as sensual as the last one. His soft lips insistently moved against your parted ones, wetly sucking and biting as your limbs felt like jelly. He nudged his nose against yours as you seperated, lips swollen and kiss-bitten. 

“I love you.” He whispered.

At that moment, Minho’s heart thudded loudly, feeling trapped in his ribcage as he realized that what he’d just said was true. He’d fully meant it. He loved you. He was in love with his best friend.

But all you could feel was pain. Cause there were those words again, those words you’d convinced yourself was a lie for Rina’s benefit, just as false as your relationship. You realized that you’d been stupid to think that this had ever been a good idea. Now that you finally got a taste of Minho, you don’t think you could ever go back... and it scared you. The kiss had been beautiful. It had felt like your whole life led up to this moment. But it was fake...spurious, like the rest of it.

Minho saw the tears in your eyes. He didn’t know what to make of them...or how to interpret them. It felt like feelings he’d been holding down and trapping for years were finally freed...yet he wasn’t happy. He had no idea how you felt about him. He wouldn’t blame you if you hated him. He deserved it. He hadn’t been a good best friend, so why would you want him to be more?

He grabbed your wrist, tearing his eyes away from yours and looking at the people still sitting on the ground, all wide-eyed and with expressions ranging from shock to confusion. His gaze traveled from Juyeon’s face to Rina’s. 

“We’re going to be leaving now. Enjoy the rest of the night.” And with that, he dragged you out the door.

[iturbide]

Bad End AU

This thing is eating my brain at present and I still don’t have a fully fleshed-out plotline for it yet but I have a lot of things that I want to explore and it’s very likely it won’t happen in order after I get through the opening sections, so consider this a masterlist of what to expect down the line.

(Please note that the list is in flux, not all events are necessarily in order, and things may be added as ideas occur; also, feel free to ask if there’s something you want to see discussed more)

The Fall of Fodlan

Claude is defeated at Derdriu; Edelgard chooses to kill him, and Byleth makes the blow

Hilda, who had been holding her own, fights her way to Claude too late; before she can take Edelgard out, Byleth strikes her down, too

Nader takes a small party from the Almyran fleet back to the Derdriu harbor with the intent on bringing Claude’s body home; on finding they’re still alive, both Claude and Hilda are evacuated back to the fleet

Claude comes to while in transit back to Almyra; he and Hilda talk about the battle and the future

On reaching the Almyran harbor, Nader flies to the capital to inform the king and queen; both immediately rush to their son’s side

Nader takes a small contingent of Almyrans to the Locket to kidnap Holst, who is in bad shape after hearing about Hilda’s death at Derdriu, and bring him to the capital to reunite him with his sister

Edelgard executes Dimitri at Tailtean and proceeds to Fhirdiad; news of the king’s death reaches Almyra only after Fodlan has already fallen

United Adrestia: Years 1 - 2

Claude opts to take an advisory position in Almyra, rather than challenging his father for the throne.  Since she’s technically supposed to be dead, Hilda stays with him in Almyra.

Following in Judith’s footsteps, Claude begins to organize an information network that extends into Fodlan, and contacts Ignatz to act as a key source within the Alliance.

Dorothea moves into the Enbarr palace with Edelgard; Ferdinand assumes the role of Prime Minister advising the Empress; Lysithea and Hanneman begin research into Crests in hopes of finding a way to restore Lysithea’s shortened life; Petra remains in the Empire as a representative of Brigid’s interests.

Despite Edelgard’s high expectations, efforts to oppose the Agarthans are hampered by limited information and unrest throughout the conquered territories.

Edelgard attempts to ally with Almyra in hopes of securing the aid of their military to keep the peace in the former Alliance territories; her treaty is soundly rebuffed by the king and queen.

Edelgard receives the response from Almyra and is significantly less than pleased, but leaves the Imperial messenger unscathed.

Left to enforce the peace by her own means, Edelgard redirects Hanneman and Lysithea’s research away from Crests, assigning them to work with Linhardt toward more direct measures to support the Empire.

Seeing no other recourse, Edelgard reveals to her allies that there is another threat in the shadows, Those Who Slither in the Dark, shaking their confidence and shattering their trust.

Rumors begin to circulate in the former Kingdom territories about a living Blaiddyd heir; Hubert sends agents to investigate and deal with the issue.

The same rumors reach Almyra, prompting Claude and Hilda to infiltrate the Kingdom on a covert investigation.

While exploring the former Gautier territory, Claude and Hilda stumble across Ashe and Annette, along with a group of old Kingdom loyalists and a teenager named Nika who looks shockingly like Dimitri.

Hubert’s agents launch a surprise attack, during which the child’s Major Crest of Blaiddyd flares; with solid evidence in hand, Claude offers them all refuge in Almyra.

On reaching Almyra, Claude adds several key conditions to the terms of their asylum, which the Kingdom loyalists are forced to comply with for Nika’s safety.

United Adrestia: Years 3 - 7

Nika begins training under Claude, Hilda, Ashe, and Annette in a broad variety of subjects, ranging from diplomacy to horseback riding to weapons handling.

Hubert continues struggling to root out the Agarthan threat, a task made more difficult by the limited information available to him and the unfavorable conditions in the Empire at large.

Caspar is tasked with keeping the peace in the original Imperial territories while his father is charged with enforcing Adrestia’s rule in the former Alliance.

Ferdinand continues to challenge Edelgard regarding her plans for reform and equality in the expanded Empire, attempting to prioritize the needs of the people over the hunt for the Agarthans.

Bernadetta begins to withdraw despite Edelgard’s firm insistence that she appear at the capital to offer counsel.

Lysithea reaches out to Edelgard directly regarding her reduced lifespan; the Empress dismisses her worries as an Agarthan lie, given that she was never told the same.

Dorothea moves out of the Enbarr Palace, too dispirited by the state of the Empire and the truth of Edelgard’s deception to bear living beside her in silence.

Wary of the inevitable problem the surviving Blaiddyd might become, Hubert sends assassins into Almyra to deal with Nika; none return thanks to Claude and his parents. 

Lysithea, realizing that her time is growing short, prepares her will and informs Lorenz of her plans to bequeath the Ordelia territory to him; in response, he tries to find some way to extend her shortened life.

Ferdinand finally exhausts Edelgard’s patience; he is dismissed from the position of prime minister and “reassigned” to govern Hyrm as his late father did before him.

Lysithea passes away; the remaining three Golden Deer meet following the funeral to discuss the state of things under Imperial rule, and Lorenz despairs that he chose the wrong side in the war.

Nika approaches his mentors to ask about Dimitri, the half-brother he never knew; he asks, too, about Edelgard, and though Hilda, Annette, and Ashe speak viciously against her, Claude is calm and reasoned in his criticisms, giving Nika deeper insight into the qualities of a good leader.

United Adrestia: Years 8 - 12

Under mounting pressure from the old Kingdom loyalists tasked with his tutelage, Nika copes by spends increasing amounts of time with Claude, which proves invaluable for both his training and his mental health.

Lorenz makes frequent visits to the former Ordelia territory to oversee and manage affairs, putting him in contact with Ferdinand in the neighboring Hyrm territory across the river; the two begin to meet and talk regularly.

Dorothea attempts to coax Bernadetta out of hiding in the Varley Manor as often as she can; she gets no response directly, but occasionally finds a new picture or embroidered plush as proof that her friend is still there.

With conditions in the Empire worsening due to heavy taxation and growing famine, Hubert pulls Petra into assisting him directly with the Agarthan threat; as she is still a political prisoner in truth, she has no choice but to comply.

Upon careful review of several documents left by Dimitri, coupled with Ashe’s and Annette’s recollections, Claude reaches out to Ignatz and asks him to deliver a message to Dorothea.

Despite her low spirits after performing the Empress’ Opera, Dorothea is overjoyed when Ignatz approaches her and readily invites him in, sharing seemingly incidental details of the former Black Eagles’ lives before Ignatz relays the missive Claude had sent.

Having Claude’s oath in writing that her actions will never be revealed, Dorothea agrees to help and returns to the Enbarr Palace, removing a document related to the Arundel family history from the archives and passing it to Ignatz.

With the document in hand, Claude finally manages to put the missing pieces together regarding Dimitri and Edelgard’s shared history, and confirming that the Empress killed her step-brother at Tailtean.

On the eve of Nika’s 24th birthday, Claude reminds him that the choice of whether to return to Fodlan or not is one only he can make: he’ll be an adult by Almyran law the next day, so no one can force him to go if he doesn’t want to.

Nika decides to return to Fodlan; Claude challenges his father for the right to accompany Nika as Almyra’s ambassador and leader of their allied forces.

The Fall of the United Adrestian Empire

The Almyran army breaches Fodlan’s Locket with help from Holst, then proceed to cut off the Empire at Myrddin before they can mount a defense.

Lorenz allies with Claude and takes over the defense of Myrddin with help from Hilda; Claude and Nika proceed north to recapture Derdriu and upset the Empire’s power center in the former Alliance.

Making their way west from Derdriu, Claude and Nika enter the Kingdom territories; with Ashe and Annette’s help, Nika begins to rally the Kingdom loyalists in the far north.

The Kingdom forces make their way to Fhirdiad, growing larger with every town they pass through; riots erupt in the capital when the Blaiddyd heir arrives, overwhelming the Imperial forces stationed there.

Nika claims the right to rule by virtue of his Major Crest of Blaiddyd and ascends the throne of Faerghus, taking Areadbhar in the process.

Pushing south, Nika and the Kingdom army force the Imperials back to the original border between Faerghus and Adrestia.

Claude and the Almyrans make their way east to Myrddin and reunite with Lorenz and Hilda; both armies proceed toward Enbarr.

The Kingdom and Alliance forces converge in Varley territory, meeting only cursory resistance; Raphael finds Bernadetta locked in the Varley manor and manages to coax her out.

On reaching Enbarr, Claude reveals the sibling relationship between Edelgard and Dimitri, branding her as a kinslayer for executing her brother at Tailtean and sowing turmoil through the Imperial capital.

Edelgard refuses to forfeit her claim on her conquered territories, leading to a battle within the Enbarr palace; she is eventually defeated and subdued.

With the Alliance territories conquered by Almyran forces and her claim to Faerghus tainted by the blood of her brother, Edelgard is forced to cede both holdings and old borders are re-established.

Edelgard is further forced to abdicate the throne in favor of a successor; while her heir’s training is not yet complete, Claude recommends Ferdinand be reinstated as Prime Minister and advisor to the throne.

Nika returns to Faerghus to start rebuilding; Claude leaves Lorenz in charge of the Alliance territories, citing Almyra’s hands-off style of governance, before returning home to challenge his father for the throne.

[angelthebedsheet]

“All I Wanted”

a peter 🅱️ parker x gender neutral! reader

a/n: jay’s sexc ass brain gave me the godly idea to make an angsty song based fic for pbp. we both love that himbo so here we fuckin go!!

contains angst, reader wanting pbp, established relationship, cursing but hey it’s fuckin me i curse in every fic i’ve written lmao, angst pbp lovers come get yalls juice

lets get it!

—————————————-—————————————

“Be careful out there, Pete.” You said as you caressed his cheek. He kissed your hand. “I will. I’m sorry again. I know this was supposed to be our date night and I wished I could sta—” You interrupted him. “I know. Just go, Peter. New York needs you.” You mumbled, opening the window. He frowned at you and pressed a kiss to you forehead before pulling his mask down. “I’ll see you, bugaboo. Again, I’m so sorry we had to cancel.” He whispered before jumping out of the window. You watched him shoot his webs, swinging away. You sighed and pulled out your phone to cancel yet another restaurant reservation.

Yet again, another date night was ruined by the crimes that occurred coincidentally each time. You were proud of him. You really were. He was amazing each night you watched him swing onto the scene and risk his life each time to make sure New York was save. But, you wanted to be selfish for once and try to beg him to stay for atleast one night. What did you expect when you decided to say yes to him two years ago? He was a hero and the world didn’t stop spinning. But, god did you wish it did. You wanted him to take a break.

You sighed, sitting down on your cold bed and took off your dress shoes, mindlessly tossing them wherever. You lost track of how many times you did this action. You wiped the makeup you can took your time to do off. Wasted. “All I wanted was a peaceful date night... Is that too much to ask?” You mumbled as you changed into some sweats and one of Peter’s shirts. You let your hair down and fluffed it out before walking into the living room. You plopped yourself onto the couch, toying with your ring. Seeing Peter got more and more sparse as he did his patrols and missions, but this city never slept and neither did he. You missed those nights where he would fall ontop of you and pepper your face with slobbery kisses. You missed when he’d rant about what dumb thing a criminal did or when he’d tell you corny jokes at 2am trying to get a tired giggle out of you.

You missed him. Now he would plop into bed, dead tired from getting punched from criminals and you’d massage his tired muscles, hearing a sluggish “thank you, baby.” You wished New York didn’t always rely on your tired man. He was only one person but was seen as a pillar of strength. Only you knew he wasn’t just that. He wasn’t Spider-Man when he came home to you. He was your Peter B. Parker.

You sighed as you turned on your TV. “Now on the scene, Spider-Man!” The reporter exclaimed as the camera panned to show Peter shooting his webs. Your eyes welled up in tears as you switched channels. I love you’s turned to Stay safe’s and I know’s. Was it so bad to crave more love from him? Was it so bad to want to be his main priority for the night like you used to be? Was it so bad? The world was too much on your Peter, always cutting off hours of sleep as Peter was too devoted to making sure he was blanket of security for the city. You wiped your eyes as you watched the shitty Hallmark movie that came on. You sniffed as the average brunette woman and average brunette man held hands while walking down the streets. That could’ve been you and Peter. If you had decided to beg, would he stayed? Or would he sent you that sad smile and apologize repeatedly before kissing you and slipping through your fingers like loose sand?

You lost track of time and how many shitty Hallmark movies you watched before you fell asleep. It was 1 am when Peter swang home. He cursed under his breath as he slipped through the window. He closed it behind him before noticing how your bed was empty. He looked at the time and groaned. “They’re gonna be upset.” He mumbled as he pulled off his mask. He rushed to shimmy off his spider suit, wincing every so often. He placed his suit in the hamper and he threw on a random shirt along with his grey sweatpants. He walked into the hallway, hearing the noise coming from the TV. “Baby?” He called out before walking into the living room.

He frowned as he noticed your sleeping figure, slumped to the side as your head rested on your hand. As he walked closer, he noticed the dried tear streaks on your cheeks and felt his heart break. He lost track of many nights he found you waiting for him to come home. He gently shook you, regretting the fact he had to wake you up. Your puffy eyes and bloodshot eyes fluttered open. “Hey, lovebug...” He said with a sad smile. “Oh... you’re home, Pete. Let me go get the first aid kit.” You mumbled as you got up. He sighed, knowing you’d fight him on the topic if he even tried to debate with you on it. He reached over and turned on the lamp. You tiredly walked to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and sat back on the couch. You started to patch up the cut on his cheek, mumbling a small apology each time he winced.

“Baby I....” He started off. “Save it, Peter. I get it.” You said as you dabbed peroxide onto the cut. He winced again. “No but I need to make it up to you. I’m so sorry we haven’t been able to be with each other that often.”

“Peter.”

“And I know how much you miss spending time with me and trust me I miss you too.”

“Peter.”

“And I know how much you wanted to have this date night—”

“PETER.” You exclaimed as you shut the kit closed. His eyes widened as he looked at you. “All I wanted was you! All I wanted was to at least have one night to ourselves and everytime you promise me that you’ll find a night off you never fulfill your promise. I get that you’re Spider-Man! I know you have to save the city! But can’t you try to take a break?! I’m so. So tired of patching you up every night! I’m so tired of massaging your aching muscles every night. I miss you.” You exclaimed. He opened his mouth to speak but you held your hand up. “2 months.” You said. “What?” He questioned. “It’s been 2 months, Parker. 2 months since you’ve came home to me unharmed. 2 months since you’ve held me close. 2 months since we’ve even ate dinner together. I’ve been trying so hard to not literally get on my knees and BEG you to stay! Each time you always tell me ‘The city needs me’ but have you even thought that I need you too? I miss my husband. The citizens out there see you more than I do. I’m tired of being your medic!” You cried out as you gripped your shirt, holding the place over your heart.

Peter’s eyes watered as you continued. “Sometimes I pace around this damn place wondering if you’ll even come home to me. I always wait for you, Parker. I even start to dream about having a date with you again. I fear that one day you won’t come home and I’ll regret never begging you to stay more. Regret never holding onto you. I always have you so close then at the end of the day you always manage to slip through my fingers. When we first started dating I knew you wouldn’t always be able to stay home but I was fine with it because I was willing to wait for you. I was fine with being the second choice because you were doing so much good.” You said as you got choked up. “No no no baby you were never the second choice.” He said as he reached to wipe your tears away.

You sniffled and slapped his hands away. “You and I both know that was a lie. You never take breaks anymore. You’re so devoted to your city but is it so much to ask to have you stay home and make fun of those shit Hallmark movies with me again? Would it be so much to even ask if you could skip patrol? I feel so stupid pining for you to kiss me again, which I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be wishing for my husband to... to show me more love when you’re out there. Saving lives and I’m here staring at that damned clock waiting for you. All I wanted was you and I know that’s already so much to ask for. I’m going to bed, Peter.” You said as you stood up. “Baby please.” He said as he stood up with you. You ignored him and walked past him. He watched as your figure disappeared into the dark hallway and heard your bedroom door close behind you.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pushed his unruly hair back. He let out a shuddering sigh as he sat back down. He ran his hand down his face. “I love you.” The man on the screen said. Peter watched as the woman said it back before pulling the man into a kiss. That used to be you and him. All you wanted was him and he couldn’t even give that to you fully. He missed you too. Now the kissing couple was there mocking him. “Oooh look at us we’re so happy while you just got into an argument with the love of your life. Fuck off.” He grumbled as he roughly wiped his cheek and grabbed the remote. He shut the TV off before turning off the lamp. He sniffled and got up, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He walked down the hall and quietly opened the door. The moonlight shined through the curtains as they lightly blew from the nightly breeze.

He saw your figure facing the window under the covers as he quickly walked to his side of the bed. He carefully got under the covers and looked at your back. He scooted closer to you and gently caressed your side. “I’m sorry...” He mumbled, making you gently shrug his arm off. “Sorry loses its meaning when you repeat it again and again. Save it and go to bed, Peter.” You said quietly. “I love you.” He said as he scooted away, laying on his back. “I know.” You whispered as tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling.

“All I wanted was you.”

[aswallowssong]

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 9 - The Devil Whispered Lies

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

If I told y'all I got engaged and that's why this chapter is literally a billion years late, would that make it better??

Jokes aside (not really a joke, I did get engaged, I just hid it in the notes a few weeks ago) spring break is one week away for this teacher, and my goal is to write a whole bunch so I can not have to post chapters like... 2 months apart.

Let me know what you think of this one!! Have a lovely day!!

Continuation of chapter 8 - Heaven Knows How Hard I Tried. The Keystone Killer has given Kit a lot to think about; including some things she wasn't quite counting on.

Kit wasn’t quite listening when they walked back into the precinct. Her conversation with JJ earlier in the day had helped. If JJ had met pushback, but now she was allowed to be a full part of the BAU team, she should stand up for herself. The director himself saw all of her reports, she could tell Ramos she disagreed with him. Especially if, for the time being, her work was good enough for the literal director of the whole FBI.

But her talk with Hotch outside of Harbin’s house hadn’t done her a lot of good. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, she still hadn’t slept since Friday night, and it was actively Sunday. 

What brought her back to reality was Morgan’s voice, deep and steady at the front of their group. It caught her up to the present so quickly she almost stopped short, which would have sent Hotch right into her.

“Well, that's got to be a first. A killer actually leading us to another killer.”

“Come on,” Gideon said from further back, “we all know they make the best profilers. They admire each other's work.”

“Ya, but usually from afar,” Elle said as they spilled into the conference room.

Kit didn’t even let herself imagine sitting down. There was no way she would be able to stay awake when she had nothing of value to add. At this point, she was waiting to get back on the jet and back to her apartment. The image of Claudia was twisting in her mind, and she couldn’t help the desperate need she had to see Monty face to face.

Hotch didn’t let her stay in her head for very long. “At least we got Harbin off the street. All right, let's review. What do we know about the Keystone Killer?”

He’s killing women at an alarming rate.

“Well, we know that he's not dead or in jail,” Elle offered.

Gideon continued. “Enjoys taunting the game.”

“Ya,” Morgan agreed easily. “He's in complete control.”

Reid was quick to add on, statistics rattling from him easier than Kit was even keeping her eyes open. “He strangled seven women in the 1980's, stopped for eighteen years, and then began again suffocating them. Ten percent of all violent crimes are caused by strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds of pressure to fully incapacitate your victim and if you hang on for at least fifty seconds, they will never recover.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, stopping short once she’d realized the words had come from her mouth, not someone else’s. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she took a moment before she voiced the fact her brain had produced for her, however reluctantly. “It’s one of the most lethal forms of violence. Victims can be unconscious in a matter of ten seconds.”

Hotch shook his head, confusion pushing from his before he said, “When you suffocate someone you actually have less control over their death. It's actually more passive because the killer doesn't feel the life leaving the body.”

“He's changed almost everything that he does,” Elle said. She was lost, mild annoyance and confusions coming off her in waves. Elle had joined the team just as JJ did, and Kit wondered if she ever felt as completely baffled as she herself felt.

In that moment, it felt like the answer could be yes, and that was comforting.

Gideon took over then, speaking to them as a whole in a series of questions. “Why why why why? What? I mean, what's he getting out of this new M. O.? Where's his payoff? You got Carla Bromwell, she sustains a significant head injury. Blitz attacks suggest disorganization, no self-confidence. This is a guy who walks into seven victims' homes prior to this. There was no forced entry at any of the scenes. Where's the loss of confidence?”

There was a beat of silence, and she really hoped anyone had any idea. It was moments like these that made Kit feel the most out of her element. She had no idea why the Keystone Killer would want to kill anyone anyway, how could she know why he would change his methods?

“He would never change the way he kills by choice,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“What?” 

Ryan spoke again, confident in a way the rest of the team lacked. “We've been operating under the assumption that he purposely changed his M. O.”

It was like something physically snapped into place. Kit looked around as everyone was suddenly much more engaged. 

“You're saying he changed because he had to change?” Gideon asked.

“He knocked her unconscious. And it wasn't to scare.”

Elle seemed to be catching on, and Kit wished selfishly she wasn’t. “Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake.”

Ryan nodded. “He could be incapacitated.”

Gideon latched back on. “At least partially.”

“Maybe an injury.” 

“Or a stroke,” Hotch added, and Gideon started nodding. “Either way you're gonna have to have medical records. Agreed?”

It took her more than a few seconds to notice that no one had said anything else, and she looked over at Gideon, who was looking directly at her.

Why is he looking at me? He never looks at me? We have a spoken rule to not look at one another during cases so why is he looking right at me?

“Colghain?” he said, and she shook her head. He most certainly was looking at her for an answer, and everyone else had gone quiet so she could answer.

“Yeah.” She said, and she saw Ryan raise an eyebrow in annoyance before she stumbled over herself to continue her answer. “Yeah, yes, sorry. Yes. There would be injury reports, charts, notes, scripts. It’s a lot of records, depending on who your doctor is and what hospital you’re at.”

There was another pause before they were all nodding, taking in what she’d said and running with it.

Morgan was first to speak. “Okay, so what are we talking about? This had to have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia?”

Gideon nodded, first at Kit, and then to Morgan. “Somebody who fits the rest of the profile.”

“It's a lot of hospital records,” Reid said, also looking towards Kit, who nodded her affirmation. “There’s hoards of people going into ERs every day for exactly those sorts of things. It’ll be a huge pool.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself taken a bit aback, but returned his grin with a shy one of her own.

“Call our girl Friday,” Gideon said, directed to Morgan, and as the flurry of movement and new hope danced through the room, she found herself feeling much less tired than she did before.

She’d been helpful. Gideon had known she was an expert about something and asked for her agreement and input before simply inserting a thought. 

Her feelings were incredibly jumbled as she stood there, waiting for directions. Gideon’s affirmation made her feel better than she thought it would, considering they didn’t usually talk if not to argue. JJ’s conversation still lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to talk to Ramos. If JJ could stand up to the coms department and get what she wanted, why couldn’t she stand up to Ramos?

But Claudia filled the leftover space in her consciousness, and she didn’t know if she could fight for more time with the BAU, or to try to be more fully integrated, or whatever it was that she actually wanted if the cases were going to stay with her.

To scare her. To make her feel like she needed to know that her sisters were alright, even though there was no way to do that while knees deep in a case. 

What do you even want, Kody? What do you want?

She didn’t have an answer for herself.

-----

Kit stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the precinct and splashed another cupful of water onto her face, holding her cheeks in her hands a moment before looking up at her reflection. 

You look exhausted.

Monty’s voice, as always, chided her. Sometimes she wished the voice of her overinvolved consciousness was her brother Al instead. Alaska couldn’t be bothered over things like that. His biggest qualm in life was the fact that his name was Alaska, and it had been quickly remedied by Ari telling him he could just go by Alex at school. 

You’ve got bigger problems than that. You’re having a moment in a police precinct in Philly while the rest of your team waits on a comprehensive file to be faxed. 

A feeling of dread shot through her chest at the realization that Monty didn’t even know she was gone. She’d been so tired and so incredibly thrown by Garcia’s text, and then Hotch’s insistence that she was on the jet that she hadn’t thought to walk down and tell Ari she was leaving. He’d been on the clinic floor; out of sight, out of mind. Then she was on the jet, and then at the crime scene. 

She hadn’t even sent a text. 

Hell, she hadn’t even really slept since then. Her time in the jet and her few minutes in the car were nowhere near what she needed, and with all the feelings and thoughts she had flying around her head, she was surprised she hadn’t crashed. She was definitely feeling “Big Feelings,” and she didn’t have time for it.

Ari and Monty always helped the big feelings. They had to be wondering where she was. Why hadn’t they called her? Or texted? They had to be worried. Girls didn’t just go missing in the middle of the day.

But they do. And worse, they’re murdered too. Right out of nowhere for no reason at all. People are sick, Kody. They kill for pleasure. They kidnap for pleasure. They’ll take anyone at any time. 

She had her phone out and dialed in record time.

“Penelope’s hotline for all things truth. Speak and know.”

“Garcia.” She swiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? “I need a favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hey.” Her voice was as sunny as always. “I’ve got that file almost through, the medical was-”

“It’s not about the case.”

There was silence on the other line for a moment. “Oh?”

“If I gave you the first and last name, could you trace a cell phone?”

“A cell phone? As long as it’s registered to the same name, yeah, I can. Why?”

“Virginia.” She said. “Virginia Colghain.”

She didn’t know why she picked Ginny. Something inside her said that Seese, George, and Lina would be at home with their mam. Ginny lived in the city, and Kit couldn’t call her. 

Ginny didn’t know she was in the field. Ginny didn’t even know she’d been paired with the BAU.

“Where should it be? Just so I know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably the US Attorney's office.”

“Which branch?”

“The one in the district. On fourth street.”

Garcia hummed as she typed, the clicking of her keystrokes halting as she said, “Wait. Wait, Colghain?”

Kit bit her lip. She was sort of hoping Garcia wouldn’t notice. 

Which is stupid, because of course she’d notice.

“Yes.”

“Virginia Colghain?”

“Yes, Garcia, can you track it or not?” Kit glanced at herself in the mirror, letting her reflection ground her. She tugged at one braid, and then the other with her free hand before wiping at her eyes again.

The clicking started again before Garcia said, “Virginia Colghain’s phone is, in fact, inside the US Attorney’s office on fourth street.”

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn’t proof that Ginny was okay, it certainly helped Kit’s nerves. “Thanks, Penelope. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, my sweet clover. But, why don’t you just call her and ask where she is? I’m going to assume that’s one of your many many siblings.”

Because I haven’t quite told her I’m working with the BAU now, or going in the field again, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her just yet, considering no one knows but Ari and Monty.

“I don’t want to interrupt her at work, I just needed to know she was okay.”

Garcia was quiet again before saying, “You know, we’ll get him. My system has faxed almost all the papers now, and then you can go bring him in.”

Kit took a breath, glancing again at the reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Had she always looked so sad?

“Thanks, Pen,” she said quietly. “I, um. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go fight crime, clover. But, hey,” Penelope’s voice took on a different quality. A serious one. “You and I should talk when you get back.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Okay… bye, Penelope.”

Kit hung up the phone.

Ginny was fine. She knew that it was a given, and she probably just looked like a crazy, paranoid moron, but she also knew deep down that Penelope didn’t care. Maybe she understood.

Before she could convince herself otherwise she hit the first position speed dial, pacing a bit in front of the sinks as it rang.

“Dia dhuit?” Came Monty’s groggy, listless voice over the line, and Kit nearly burst into tears at the combination of her sister’s voice, her real voice, and their mother tongue.

“Monty.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Thought you were in the living room, but I only hear you on the phone.”

Kit wiped at a stray tear trailing down her cheek. There was no way she was keeping it together when she finally got home.

Monty’s accented Irish was thicker than it normally was. Her voice was lower too, telling of the fact that she quite possibly woke her twin up. She bit back a bit of guilt, her own voice launching into a language just for them.

“I’m sorry, I woke you, didn't I?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go back when we’re done. Where are you?”

“Are you feeling any better?” She was stalling. “When was the last time you took-”

“Dakota.” Kit stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“But why are you crying?”

Damn it.

She tried to keep any tremor out of her voice, but she knew Monty would always be able to tell. “I’m not.”

“Why are you calling me, crying-”

Kit sighed, her pacing stopping dead in its tracks as she tried to keep herself together. “Everything is okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Everyone is fine. I needed to hear your voice.”

The coughing across the line was grating, and then, “Kody, where are you? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I…” Kit started, steadying herself with a hand on the counter. “We’re in Pennsylvania.” 

“You’re what?” 

“It’s fine, I had to leave overnight. We’re on a case.”

“You didn’t call,” Monty said, obviously upset. “You didn’t even send a text. Ari was at the bureau last night, too, why-” She cut herself off to cough, the line being muffled as Monty pulled away from the speaker.

Kit ran her hand down her face. This wasn’t the conversation she needed to be having. She should have called Ari. He tended to be a little more level headed when he was upset. 

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Monty finally asked, voice much rougher than before. “What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Kit said, her voice more steady than she felt it should be. “I’m sorry, Mont. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Why…” Monty trailed for a moment before she said quietly, “Why did you call now?”

Claudia’s face flashed to the front of her mind, and then Monty’s; the reflection of her own staring back at her in the mirror. 

“I needed to hear your voice. I had to know you were alright.”

Another moment of silence passed before Monty asked, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Kit sighed, sniffling quietly before letting out another, deeper sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mont.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, JJ standing on the other side.

“Hey, the whole file finally came through, we’re meeting in the- are you crying?” 

Kit’s head whipped around to look at JJ square, and she hastily wiped under her eyes. “No, I, um. I’ll be right there.”

JJ tilted her head, but nodded and shut the door again. The air between the twins crackled quietly before Kit cleared her throat.

“I have to go. I… hopefully I’ll be home tonight. I’m sorry, Montana. I am.”

“Kody, wait-”

“I love you, Mont, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t just say those things and then go put yourself in danger! You can’t do that to me! I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” The door to the bathroom was pounded on. “Lep! Let’s go!”

Derek.

“Dakota!”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Monty could say anything else, Kit snapped her phone shut. 

------

Her leg bounced as she sat in the SUV in between Reid and Elle. She was twisting at the hem of her shirt, and some of the threads had ripped and stretched. It was keeping her from pulling on her hair though, so she didn’t care about that. Ginny could sew it for her when they got back to DC.

If Ginny’s still there. Anyone could grab her at any time. Anyone could-

“Are you okay?” Reid asked quietly, his eyes locked on her fingers as they tugged at the material.

She stilled her hands immediately, feeling the concern dripping from his tone.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just… tired.”

“You could probably sit out if you need to,” he said, not noticing the way her face had started to heat up. Everyone in the SUV was actively pretending they couldn’t hear their conversation, but Kit knew better.

“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I just want to get home, so the faster we cuff this creep, the better."

"Because of your sister?"

"What?"

How could he have possibly known what you were thinking about Ginny? Did you say something? Did-

"Your sister's sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He wasn't talking about Ginny. Of course he wasn't, the only one that knew about her minor meltdown was Garcia. Monty being sick was common knowledge. 

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. And because he's, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Murdering women."

Elle laughed quietly next to her, nodding as she said, “Right, there’s that. We’ll get him. Right, Gideon?”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Gideon said, sending more anticipatory energy into the world than usual. Kit didn’t have to think about the implications of that, though, as the SUV came to a halt outside a two story home.

They got out of the van quickly, all thoughts of Monty and going home gone as they strapped into Kevlar vests and double checked their weapons.

“I believe Walter Kern is in Sylvia Gooden's home now,” Gideon said, addressing the five of them and the SWAT captain. “Hotch confirmed he left the community center hours ago, and Kern's car's parked on the next block.”

“I want Walter Kern alive,” Ryan said quickly, and the SWAT captain nodded at his request. “I'll stand by for the word.”

“Reid, Greenaway, I'll call you when we've secured Kern. Morgan, Colghain, you’re with me and Ryan. Okay, let's move out.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, watching them as they walked away, Kit trailing just behind. 

It didn’t feel right to her that she was going and Elle was staying back, but that was one of the reasons she was even on the team.

Or, working with them, at least. There’d been too many conversations surrounding that topic for her to understand her feelings about it.

They crept towards the house, pausing as the SWAT team pried the door open. Gideon led and Kit held the rear, covering and watching to make sure that nothing happened to them. Team or not, they were her responsibility.

They weren’t in the house for very long before they could hear Gooden crying for help on the second floor. Every movement they made was succinct, and within seconds they were in the room.

“Don't move! Don't move!” Gideon yelled, all weapons drawn at Kern as he tried to hold a plastic bag over Gooden’s face.

They scuffled for a moment, Morgan able to knock Kern’s gun out of the way before holding his arms behind his back. “Down on your knees! Down! Don't move!”

Kit held her gun steady, shifting into a position that allowed her to still have a sightline on Kern; at least until he was cuffed. Not that she believed he could get out of Morgan’s hold.

Gideon spoke quickly into the com, letting Reid and Elle know that Gooden was alive, and Kern was secure.

Morgan struggled a bit to keep Kern’s hands together, and Kit didn’t change her aim. “Cuff him, Morgan.”

“Gideon, I need your cuffs, man,” he said over his shoulder.

Gideon didn’t move right away, but Kit didn’t take her eyes off Kern. She couldn’t until she knew he didn’t have any chance of getting away.

“Why don't you do this? I'll take care of her.” Gideon had spoken to Ryan, who had clearly been soothing Gooden until that moment. 

"That's enough. Now get up,” Morgan said, passing him off so Ryan could cuff him. “You got him?”

“Ya, I got him,” Ryan said, and Kit lowered her weapon as she heard the click of the cuffs secure around Kern’s wrists.

“Colghain,” Gideon said, “Some help, please.”

Kit turned quickly, realizing that Sylvia Gooden, who had just been nearly suffocated, was still crying and panicking with flex cuffs around her wrists. 

She wasn’t done yet.

The two steps to the bed were swift, and Gideon stepped aside as she spoke to the traumatized woman. “Hi, my name is Kit. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to check and make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Gooden looked up at her for a moment before she nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath before dissolving into hysterics. 

Kit grabbed her hands and squeezed gently, giving the older woman a small smile despite all the crazy going on around them.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

-----

Kit sat next to Reid on the jet, which was odd, because she normally tried to keep herself as far away from everyone as possible. She’d gotten a very strange read off of Hotch, though, who had secluded himself in the corner she usually would have taken, so she figured the conversation would keep her awake if anything else.

It didn’t stop her from propping a blue notebook open in her lap and tapping at it quietly with her pen. They were laughing at a story Ryan was telling about Gideon that made him seem almost human, and the laughter she shared was genuine. Gideon had stepped aside for her to take the lead with Gooden, which meant he was going to be true to his word when they were in the field. Stay out of each other’s way, and things will be fine. 

She just hoped it would last.

“What goes in that notebook?”

She looked up at Reid’s voice, noticing that while she’d allowed herself to be in her own head for fifteen seconds, everyone had splintered into their own conversations. Elle had even walked away from them, and was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Hotch.

“Hm?”

He nodded down at the blue notebook in her lap. “What goes in there? I’ve only ever seen the red one, and that’s where you write all of our medical information, and things that happen to us medically during cases. Like when I was sick in New Jersey. But that didn’t happen this time, nothing did, and that notebook is blue, and it’s much more worn, and -” He stopped short, frowning. “I’m rambling.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I was waiting for you to be done before I answered your question.”

Reid’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw dropping for just a moment before he seemed to right himself. “Most people don’t wait until I’m done.”

“It’s a skill I picked up in college. It’s hard to help someone if you won’t listen to their entire story.”

“Huh,” he said. He seemed to think on that for a moment before he said, “So, what’s it for?”

She blinked up at him. “Oh.”

She hadn’t thought she’d actually have to answer. She was sort of hoping that he would talk himself in circles until he was on another topic completely. He’d done it a few times over the short time she’d known him.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s sort of personal,” she settled on.

“Like a journal? A diary?”

If he noticed she was blushing, he didn’t let on. “A little bit, it’s like-” She stopped short as she saw JJ move from her seat towards the coffee machine, and her brain flipped a completely different switch. “Sorry, I need to talk to JJ,” she said, and before he could protest, she’d dropped the notebook on her seat and was across the short length of the plane.

“Hey, JJ,” she said, causing the blonde to turn around and smile. 

“Hey, coffee?”

“No, actually I-” She hadn’t quite thought the rest out. “I um.”

She found her hands grabbing for the ends of her hair, but she stopped herself before she could start tugging. She was far too late on her meds, which were officially out of whack, considering the fact that she hadn’t slept in two days. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“Is today Sunday?” She said, which was not at all how she’d intended to start the conversation she wanted to have. 

JJ laughed. “I have no idea. Maybe? When we left it was the middle of the night, so I would need to check my phone.”

“Right,” Kit said, easing a bit and giving a quiet laugh of her own. “I um. Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you said.”

JJ tilted her head, eyebrows pulling together. “What I said?”

“What you said about pushing back.”

“Ah,” JJ said, eyes flashing with recognition. “And?”

“I… Claudia really threw me.”

Her head tilted before she said, “The woman they found under the bed?”

Kit shivered. “Yeah.” She didn’t regard the moment with fondness. 

JJ didn’t seem to notice. She thought for a moment before shrugging. “I heard Morgan telling Gideon that you were incredible with her. That you didn’t leave when EMS got there because she didn’t want you to.”

Kit shook her head quickly, deflecting the praise. “I didn’t really do anything. She just… I don’t think she wanted all those men around her without another woman around.”

“And you were that woman for her.”

Kit stopped for a moment, watching JJ’s eyes soften. She was going to deflect again - insist that she’d done exactly what anyone else would have done, but something stopped her. 

“I want to be here,” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, but it seemed she was going to do it outloud, in real time. “I want to be a part of this, but I’m scared. Because there will be more Claudias. And more Sylvias… And more Kerns.” She moved a hand to play with the seam at the hip of her slacks. “And we won’t always get there in time. I won’t always get there in time.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment before JJ reached out and took Kit’s right hand off her braid, squeezing it gently between her own fingers.

“But we’ll always try. And sometimes?” She shrugged. “We win.”

Kit took a deep breath, allowing that thought to fill her senses. Sylvia Gooden was alive. Claudia was alive. Kern lost. 

“I think you should talk to Hotch when we get back. Not now. You look exhausted.”

They both laughed, Kit’s a little lackluster. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’ve got two black eyes.”

“Damn.” Kit shook her head, averting her eyes from JJ’s before saying, “Thank you. For listening and telling me what you knew and for making me feel like I deserve to be here.”

JJ nodded, saying simply, “You do.” She gestured to the coffee machine again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit laughed, shaking her head again. “No, really, I shouldn’t. My body doesn’t know what time it is already, I think that would put me in dangerous territory.”

She stood on the Red Line platform, struggling to keep her eyes open. She pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger, trying anything subtle to get her from point A to point B as quickly as possible. It was already dark, and she didn’t need to fall asleep on the train, or worse, while standing and waiting for the train. 

That would really cap this weekend. Falling asleep on the train, missing your stop, getting abducted…

“Do you have a headache?”

“Ah!” She jumped, turning over her shoulder and swearing loudly. “Reid, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” He said, ducking just a bit, as if he was worried she was going to strike him. “That pressure point is effective in relieving headaches, grounding panic attacks, and quelling nausea. Are you sick?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not- I know exactly what this pressure point is used for Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? At my train stop? Again? I told you that I don’t-”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going. The anxious sincerity flooding off of him stopped her long enough for him to continue. “The odds of being accosted on the Red Line are significantly lower than the Blue, but you’re exhausted, and this case made you nervous, so I just wanted to be sure you…” He slowed, a dark flush rising in his cheeks. “Got home safe. Which I’m sure you can on your own, because your field scores dwarf mine. I, um…”

He had stuttered to a halt.

He’s embarrassed. And he wanted to help you.

She didn’t have time or energy to process the fact that he’d most definitely profiled her. The sentiment was sort of touching.

Sort of, as far as Spencer Reid was concerned. 

“This… isn’t a Gideon thing?”

Reid chuckled quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. It’s, ah, a me thing. Gideon offered me a ride home, but I said no.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning as the train squealed into the station. “No shit?”

He laughed again, shaking his head and offering a small smile, his cheeks still flushed, but relief in his eyes. “No shit.”

“...Fine. But only because I’m really tired… You know, you could have said all this, or offered, in the bullpen, right? You didn’t have to follow me to the train like a stalker.”

The blush flooded his cheeks again, and he shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to yell at me or something in front of everyone else.”

Her heart sank. 

Look what you’ve done, Kody. You made him anxious to be alone with you because he thinks you’re some crazy person that’s going to fly off the handle.

Well, aren’t you?

“I wouldn’t do that, Spencer,” She said, starting towards the train door. “I appreciate the concern… thanks.”

He looked up, eyes flashing a combination of relief and hesitance. “Oh. Yeah. Ah, yeah, sure.”

They sat down inside the train, Kit immediately leaning her head against the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Maybe Reid isn’t so bad. Maybe he’ll stay quiet, or read the whole way and you can actually get a short-

“You know, there’s a staggering amount of germs on the window on a DC train. Approximately 45% of people…”

-----

Spencer stalked away from her door, his long legs making him look somewhat like a baby giraffe as he turned to descend the stairs. He gave a last, incredibly awkward wave.

“See you tomorrow, Dakota,” he said.

She fought back the instinct to groan. “Bye Reid, thanks.”

He grinned as his head slipped below her sight line and she let out a sigh, her entire body seeming to settle into exhaustion. It was late, and dark, and hopefully she would be able to slip into the apartment and deal with her siblings in the morning before she left for work. She’d talk to Monty then, and Ari at the clinic, and everything would be fine.

She’d need to call Ginny, but she could do that in the morning as well. She needed to sleep first. Sleep, and then deal with whatever came.

Her hand fumbled a bit with the key as she tried to fit it correctly into the door, eyes dry and tired and brain scrambled. The residual jittery, anxious feeling of both the case and messing the the time on her medication wasn’t helping her fine motor skills, and she’d nearly resigned to search through her backpack for the flashlight she kept when the doorknob was ripped away from her hand, the door flying open. 

Something hard slammed into her body, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip and knocking the wind out of her.

Instead of words, there were hitching sobs from her attacker. Congested sounding, sad, and overly frustrated, matched with hot tears that were falling onto her shoulder. She took a breath, wrapping her arms around Monty and holding her as close as she could.

“Shh, it’s okay, dair, I’m okay,” she mumbled quietly, feeling her twin’s arms tighten around her. 

“Don't… ever do that,” Monty managed, voice gravely and tearful. “Never, ever.”

“Oi, Mont, what-” Ari turned the corner, making eye contact with Kit over their sister’s shoulder. She watched physical tension release in his shoulders. “Ah. Okay. Mont, deirfiúr, come in and close the door. She’s okay. We’re fine.”

The mixing of languages wrapped around Kit, filling her like a breath she hadn’t taken in days. Monty let go, rubbing furiously at her streaming eyes as she walked back through the door, settling down on their couch and curling herself into a ball.

Ari pulled Kit through the door, looking at Monty and shaking his head. There was no need for the mix now, they could speak as they did among themselves. “Ah, no, get up. Come on. She’s tired, you’re sick. Bed. Now.”

Kit didn’t know how it happened, but they all ended up in Ari’s bed. Granted, it was the biggest. He didn’t share a room, and he was significantly taller than both she and Monty had ever hoped to be. They’d slept all together as children often, and when they were first living in the district on the floor at Ginny’s, they ended up in some sort of pile of limbs the nights they all worked the same shifts. 

Now they rarely did. Six months before when they were back at home after Al needed to get his appendix out. A year before that when their Grandad had died. Before that? She wasn’t sure she remembered. 

Monty’s head rested on her chest, quiet congested snoring coming from her in even breaths. Her face was flushed; from fever or crying, Kit wasn’t sure.

She’d been nearly pulled into Ari’s lap, and now her head rested on his stomach, rising and falling just slightly as he slept. 

Regardless of how incredibly exhausted she was, she forced herself to stay awake and listen. To feel them breathing. To be sure they were there, and alive.

JJ’s words played in her head. 

You do.

She deserved to be with the BAU. She deserved to be there.

Her senses focused back in on her cúpla, and the stress she’d caused them. The fear. The anxiety.

But do you really want to be?

-----

It's me again!

The plan right now is to make each season (year?) a different story, with a different song as the title and lyrics for the chapters. I'm a music person, this is the only way I operate.

If you've heard a song that made you feel feelings, hit me with it!

[dilly-oh]

Sleep With Me

Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 

EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!

Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 

Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.

...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.

GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.

He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 

It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.

The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.

Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-

Oh. God. Oh GOD.

The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.

OH GOD.

Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.

The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.

“…So who are you buying these for?”

Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.

Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.

“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”

“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.

“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”

Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.

If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-

Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.

“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-

Oh God. Please no.

“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”

Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.

“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.

“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.

“Hey, I like cherry!”

“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”

“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”

...He has a point there. 

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”

“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”

“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.

“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.

“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.

Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.

“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.

The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 

“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”

Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.

“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”

“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.

“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”

“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”

“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”

Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.

“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”

“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”

“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”

“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”

“Iruka.”

“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.

“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 

That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 

“I have eight dogs,” he warns.

“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”

“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”

“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”

“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”

“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”

“It smells like wet dog.”

“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”

“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”

“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”

“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”

“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.

They don’t let go.

(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)

[a-hundred-jewels]

cruel summer ch 12: i have these lucid dreams

Ao3 Wattpad

Summary: sabrina starr, pegasuses, and oh no! the fourth wall broke! do we have a carpenter in the audience?

Word Count: 9000 ish

Tags: Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Jane Penderwick, Rosalind Penderwick/Tommy Geiger, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jane Penderwick, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Rosalind Penderwick, Skye Penderwick, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Martin Penderwick, Elizabeth "Batty" Penderwick, Elizabeth Penderwick (senior), Iantha Aaronson-Penderwick, Ben Aaronson-Penderwick, Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Annabeth Chase, Jeffrey Tifton-McGrath, Percy Jackson, Demeter (Percy Jackson), Apollo (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood AU, Demigods, demeter!elizabeth penderwick, demeter!rosalind (second generation), demeter!batty (second generation), apollo!alec mcgrath, apollo!jeffrey (second generation), demeter!jane (second generation), demeter!skye (second generation), all of that's in no particular order, main focus is on jane because i love her and she's so so fun to write, tomsalind is there (and stuff will happen - i can't really say what, it will really be eventful though), yes of course there's solangelo, takes place right before Penderwicks In Spring, After Trials of Apollo, more tags to come??, Minor Swearing

Notes and Full Chapter below cut:

Hello everyone and welcome back! I'll admit, this is a little later today than I'd been planning to post (was hoping to get an early start), but hey! If the Puppet History season 4 finale can be late, then so can I!

First off, a massive massive thank you to waterbottle_stickers for being the best beta reader ever. This chapter would be a mess without you. Also, if you haven't already, please check out their enola holmes fic wherever you stray, i follow it's truly wonderful.

If you've been following me on tumblr, then you'll know that, in addition to reblogging an alarming quantity of good omens fanart, I've been making some plans for fics this month. The original plan from back in august was to post every day of the month, but... ahhh.... I just don't work that fast lmao. I'll have to be content with just posting a fair amount this month. Happy october! Anyway, stay tuned.

On this fine day, we've got two lovely QUEER fanfic recommendations that I'm very excited to share. Up first is one from the tumblr blog izzielizzie (which you should all absolutely check out! especially if you're into the one of us is lying fandom!). it centers around the skye/melissa pairing and their senior prom, which Skye is said to have only gone to last minute, and also wearing a lab coat, in a passage of the penderwicks at last. featuring some oblivious lesbians and also jane. once again a massive thanks to izzielizzie, as this fic is one of my favourites!. click here to take a look! (also keep an eye on her blog in general bc her penderwicks fics are awesome!)

The second fanfic is also one I'm very fond of, as it focuses on the siblinghood of skye and jane, which is one of my favourite topics on earth. check out rolling down the ancient high street by hanchewie/ramblemadlyon (tumblr and ao3 respectively) for the sibling antics of aroace skye and bisexual jane when the latter visits the former at her college in california! and, if you like it, ramblemadlyon has two other penderwicks fics from the past couple days that look fantastic as well, and that I look forward to reading.

This chapter is dedicated to my therapist, since I've decided this will be the month of oddly specific dedications. thank you for telling me to stop referring to cruel summer as my "trash baby" and help me recognize the true worth that it holds in my life.

Disclaimer: not my characters, you know the drill. Jeanne Birdsall and Rick Riordan are lucky ducks indeed. chapter title is (obviously) from "lucid dreams" by Juice WRLD.

FROM THE POV OF JANE PENDERWICK

The woods loomed around me, seeming as tall as buildings as they invited me in further. I took another step, the sharp pain of a pinecone digging into my foot barely registered in my mind. I kept walking. A crack sounded throughout the air, and, behind me, a tree splintered round its base and fell down, only inches away from crushing me dead, and completely blocking the path out.

Frightened, I began to run, looking for a way out of the forest. But no matter which way I went, there were only trees in front of me. Where was the path? Where was the grassy hill I had walked down to get in here in the first place. Had I even walked down that hill to begin with? Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I remembered coming here. I wasn’t sure I remembered waking up this morning, or going to bed last night, or anything besides existing in the forest. Who was I? What was I doing here? How could I get out?

Panicking, I stood in the middle of a clearing, looking frantically at the trees around me, trying to find something familiar. Nothing. I was exhausted. How long had I been here? An hour? A day? A lifetime? I collapsed at the base of a tree, sobbing as I tried to remember. Something. Anything.

Then, a voice echoed around me. “Welcome,” it said, and my mind went black.

I bolt upright in bed, a scream halfway out of my throat. I clamp it back, not wanting to wake my cabinmates. Thin light whimpers through the window--enough for me to see my white-knuckle grip on the sheets, but not enough to pass as daylight.

What time is it?

Our cell phones don’t really work here--that was one of the first things Miranda told us when we arrived, and Batty’s been gleefully lording it over us that her Mp3 player will still play music and, like, function, while our smart phones recline sadly in our duffel bags. That being said, I don’t feel quite brave enough to get out of my bed just yet and tiptoe over to the big analog clock that Rio bought at a pawn shop in Colorado. Maybe my phone will at least show the time.

I reach under my bed and fumble for my duffel, hooking my pinky through the zipper loop and yanking it out onto my floor. My phone’s in the front pocket, buried under two pairs of headphones, several gum wrappers, and some strawberry leaves (?????). A piece of gum peels off the screen as I disentangle my phone, and I mentally chide my past self for being so messy.

My phone does not turn on. Big clock it is.

I tiptoe across the cold tile and peer around the tree.

5:45 .

Jesus Pagan Christ.

It’s too early to wake anyone up (as I think this, Batty lets out a snore to rival any crabby Tyrannosaurus Rex), so I wrap a blanket around myself like a criminally attractive burrito, and creep out onto the porch, with my notebook and pen tucked into my shirt.

As long as I live, I will never get tired of summer mornings. There’s something deeply lovely about the soft light of the still-sleepy, pink lemonade sun, the quiet anticipation of the cool air, damp from dew and preparing for the upcoming heat. At home in Cameron, Skye’s woken me up many an early morning to go for a run or do soccer drills or for a grueling “Seven Minute Workout Except You Don’t Follow The Rules And Torture Your Sister by Making It Actually A Forty-Nine Minute Workout.” (But it’s okay, I’m not bitter). But, as delightful as those experiences have all been, I don’t think Skye really gets it. The beauty of the summer morning is not what it can do for your workout schedule, but rather in its gentle softening of an otherwise boiling day. It is to be appreciated in the way that I am now, sitting curled up on this frighteningly creaky porch (I mean, seriously, who built this?) and calling up the Sabrina Starr section of my brain to try and write away the residual panic from my nightmare.

Sabrina sighed as the plane took off. She wasn’t sure if she should have followed the voice in her head telling her to come here. Saying it out loud--even just thinking it--made it sound ridiculous. A dream, a voice in her mind. Barely more than a whim.

Worse than that, Sabrina wasn’t even sure where this whim was taking her. On a napkin in her pocket, she’d scrawled everything she remembered about the dream from the night before. The dark sky, lit only with spiderwebs of lightning, the shadowy figure huddled on a beach and soaked through with rain. The voice crying for help.

And a name. Aeaea.

After she’d woken up, Sabrina had looked up Aeaea, too tired to fully connect why the name felt familiar. Her heart had sunk further after reading the Wikipedia entry, and a breath of hopelessness had left her lips. According to the internet, Aeaea was not a real place. It had been the island prison of Circe. Fiction wasn’t new to Sabrina, and neither was mythology (she recalled an adventure spent with a ghost called Rainbow from a few years back).

Fictional places, though, were another matter. How could she get somewhere if she didn’t know where she was going? Was she trusting her gut with too much this time?

Sabrina folded up the napkin and put it back in her pocket. There was no point in worrying about that now. She’d looked at enough maps to make a guess at where Aeaea might be if it was real. When she got there, she could get more information. Sabrina Starr had survived this long in her career of rescues and whims. She could survive one more adventure. Worst case scenario, she said to herself, I spend a few days running around for nothing and have to brush up on my Greek.

She repeated it to herself like a promise. Worst case scenario, worst case scenario… Eventually, tired out from all her anxieties, and from trying desperately not to worry about what would come next, Sabrina fell asleep.

FROM THE POV OF RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE

“Okay, I give up. Tell me what’s wrong.” Annabeth’s voice startles me away from my plate of eggs, which I had been pushing around with a fork. Anxiety bubbles in my throat, just as it had been since I woke up, and food just doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“I--what?”

Annabeth waves her hand impatiently. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I don’t think you’ve looked up once. Also you’re always hungry in the mornings, so unless you, like, ate an entire cow before I got here, this ,” she gestures to my uneaten eggs, “is unusual behaviour.”

I give her a look. Sometimes, I get the feeling that Annabeth exists as a part of multiple different dimensions at once, like she’s having four other conversations that I can’t hear, and is still ten steps ahead of me in the one I’m actually a part of.

Or maybe I’m just easy to read.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I don’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine.” I’m terrified.

Annabeth sighs. “Is this about the prophecy?”

“No,” I spear another piece of egg, and don’t eat it. “Maybe. Yes.” I feel like going back to my cave and staying there for the rest of my life. Waiting with a book and some paints for the prophecy to get bored and go away. Maybe I’d take Jane with me, or Nico, for some company. That sounds nice.

My plate is pulled away from me as I aim my fork again. “I can’t pay attention when you do that,” Annabeth huffs. I think I wouldn’t invite her to stay in my cave. She’s too on the nose when I want to mope. Then again, she says the same about me.

“Fine,” I turn and face her. “Let’s talk feelings.” Connor Stoll, who had been making his way towards our table, abruptly turns around and walks the other way. I should get Chiron to hire a therapist. Gods know we need it.

Further proving my point, Annabeth’s eyes widen a little, before she remembers it is I who will be spilling. (I make a point to corner her later. It’s a routine we have). “Wow. You broke fast.”

I nod. “I’m tired and you’re annoying.” (False. We both know it. Another routine). “Like you said, I’m nervous about the prophecy.”

Annabeth nods. “And?”

I frown. “What do you mean, and ? There’s no and.”

Annabeth frowns back at me. A mirror, a mime, an annoyance. The nerve to look disappointed in me. “I thought you were spilling, Red.”

I roll my head back and study the roof of the pavilion, which Annabeth designed, and slowly lean my head down to stare at the table. I really don’t want to have this conversation. I go along anyways. “I’m worried about Jane.”

Annabeth leans back, triumphant. “Ah, yes. Your girlfriend.”

Maybe if I try reeeeeeeally hard, I can activate the Oracle of Delphi and freak Annabeth out enough to make her go away. “ Not my girlfriend. You know that.”

“You called Percy my boyfriend for weeks before we actually officially decided.”

I wave my hand dissmissively. “That’s different, you guys were dancing around each other for like three years. You needed a bit of a push. Jane and I kissed once! Over a week ago! And nothing came of it.” We actually haven’t really talked about it. We’re in this sort of in-between zone where we spend a ton of time together, but don’t have a label for it. Honestly, it’s been nice.

Annabeth grins, apparently reading my thoughts. “You’ve been eating lunch with the Demeter cabin, like, every other day. I saw you doing archery together yesterday. Both of you were awful at it, but you stayed there for hours. I’ve never seen you focus on something that long outside of your paintings.”

I stare at the ceiling again. Maybe Annabeth designed it so that a single square foot of rock might fall down onto my head and relieve me from this conversation. “Yes, fine, we spend a lot of time together. But that doesn’t make us a couple, and has nothing to do with what I’m actually worried about!” I can see in her face that Annabeth is more serious now, and is about to fully listen to me, when Percy and Malcolm show up, sliding into the seats across from us, and clanging several plates of pancakes down onto the table in front of them.

“Made them ourselves! Wanna share?” Percy gives Annabeth heart eyes and a kiss on the cheek when she folds a large blue pancake into thirds and bites it like a burrito. I roll my eyes at them because they are a horrifying and disgusting couple and also I kind of want to be them when I grow up. Malcolm ignores them, instead turning to me. “Were you talking about Jane?” he asks, pushing wire rimmed glasses up his nose.

I frown. “Sort of. Why?”

He shrugs, sheepish. “You know. Just, uh, just wondering.”

I narrow my eyes at him, then Percy, who tears himself away from looking at Annabeth to sigh dramatically. “Malcolm wants to ask out Jane’s sister. You know, the blond one.”

I snort. “ Skye? Seriously?”

Malcolm looks vaguely offended. “What’s so weird about that?”

“Sorry, it’s not weird.” I reach over the table to pat him on the shoulder with my fork. “Perfectly normal teenage hormones.” He glares at me and I smile sweetly back. “I just can’t imagine Skye going out with anyone, that’s all.”

Malcolm stares down at his pancake, disappointed. “Oh. You sure?”

I nod, feeling a little more normal with my friends and less doom-related breakfast conversation. My eggs are past the threshold of “warm and appetizing” but I take a bite anyway. “Pretty sure. Jane told me that she’s aroace and, based on past occurrences, there’s a seventy percent chance she’ll punch anyone who asks her out. Anyway, why the interest? I didn’t know you guys talked.”

Malcolm shrugs. “We don’t, really. She just seems cool.”

Percy pipes in, “He’s been practically obsessed with her since she won that soccer game against the Nike kids and made them cry.”

I nod approvingly. “Well, Malcolm, at least we know you have good taste.”

Annabeth pats him on the head, ignoring his complaints that her hand is covered in blue maple syrup. “Better luck next time, brother of mine.”

Piper and Leo join us next, contributing an alarming volume of grapes and a single hardboiled egg to the breakfast display. Leo grabs a pancake and wraps it around some grapes, before taking a big bite. “I hear you’re discussing Malcolm’s romantic failures,” he says around the world’s worst breakfast burrito. Piper gasps in mock offense, then swallows the unpeeled hardboiled egg whole, like a snake. (This is a regular morning routine. She’s trying to work up to being a sword swallower, since her dad did it in a movie once and she thought it looked like fun). “ Malcolm, why didn’t you come to me? I could have given you a verdict within five minutes!”

“I wanted advice on whether I should ask out that Heaphestus boy two weeks ago and you told me to fuck off.”

Piper pouts at him. “That’s on you, you caught me at a bad time.”

Annabeth holds up a pancake with the air of a respected royal and we turn to her. “As delightful as this is, Rachel and I were initially talking about her romantic prospects and also her worries and fears, and I feel that we should get back to that before she slinks off and avoids the rest of the conversation.”

I glare at her. “Why would you bring this away from the very nice conversation we were having about everyone else’s problems? Do you hate me?” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass, I’m just not letting you walk away from a potential breakthrough. Now, where were we? You were saying that you’re worried about Jane but it has nothing whatsoever to do with your relationship, or lack thereof.”

I give a long suffering sigh, and try to communicate telepathically with Piper that she needs to Save Me Now, but she’s looking at me in interest with her chin resting in her hands, her long fingers adorned with rings sent to her from her Mortal girlfriend, Shel, who bought them at a vintage punk store. The traitor. Defeated, I turn back to Annabeth.

“It’s just that, whatever ends up happening with this prophecy, I don’t want it to fuck her up, in the way the quests have sometimes done to us. Like, we’re used to this by now, but it hasn’t been a smooth road. I don’t exactly like going on quests, and at first I was really worried at the prospect of being included in a prophecy, since that’s fairly abnormal, but Jane was only made aware of her heritage a couple months ago! What if this turns out like Silena or Beckendorf or-or Jason, and the prophecy destroys her, and it’s all my fault because I’m the one who pulled her into all this?”

Everyone tenses up at the mention of Jason, but they continue to look at me with a mixture of concern and love that makes something soften inside of me. For the hundredth time, I think of how lucky I am to have these people who love me unconditionally. Even if they really, really need therapy.

“I know that I didn’t plan any of this, but we’re both tied in now, especially since both Chiron and I had the prophetic dream and I actually gave the prophecy that day in the woods, and, well, this isn’t her world yet. She’s only got a little bit of ichor in her, and she grew up knowing nothing of any of this. In a way, I did too, and I have no ichor, but I had clear sight. For me, it was ineffable, but she could technically leave any time, if it weren’t for the prophecy. She can leave, and I feel like it’s up to me to make sure that doesn’t change.”

“Oh, Rachel.” Annabeth reaches her arms out to me and I let myself be pulled into an embrace. “Jane’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

Sabrina stood in line at the boat rental hut, her arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face. It had not been a successful afternoon. For hours, she’d been searching the coastal towns near where her plane landed, looking for some trace of Aeaea, or anything else she’d seen in her dream. She was used to working with dregs. It was normal for her to have to squint a little at the evidence, have to shuffle things together around big holes of “Maybe,” like she was working a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.

But this was something else.

Sabrina had read about places where mythology shaped the culture. Places where the tourist draws were events that had supposedly happened thousands of years ago, or creatures that only existed in grainy photographs and people’s imaginations. Hell, she’d met the Loch Ness monster. Was it insane for her to have assumed she’d be able to find the same kind of thing here? All her training and years of experience had told her that, if you sniff around long enough, you’ll find a conspiracy theorist or a slightly off-the-rails guidebook.

So far, though, Sabrina had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. She hunted around, searching up library catalogs, checking every store on the street. “Aeaea,” “Circe,” even “the Odyssey.”

Nothing.

The line edged along slowly, and Sabrina ran her hands up and down her arms. The air was chilly from its proximity to the cold sea water. There were three people in front of her now. She just had to wait a little longer, then she would have a boat and be able to explore these waters herself.

Something was wrong with this place. Something was wrong with all of these places. And Sabrina was going to figure out what.

Later, Jane and I are taking our time walking to the pegasus stables to watch the riding lesson that Rosalind has reluctantly agreed to let Batty take (provided that Percy, who’s teaching today, doesn’t let her fly high enough that she’ll die if she falls off, and that Batty wears all of the necessary protective gear). Jane looks lovely, wearing a sunshine-y yellow bandana that sets off her dark curls and warm sepia skin. She has on her Camp Half-Blood shirt again, and a short green skirt, and all of it should clash horribly, but it doesn’t.

We’ve decided to cut through the strawberry fields, and I swallow a sun-warmed strawberry while Jane tells me about the dream she had last night. I think back to my conversation with Annabeth this morning when she tells me of the dark woods and the feeling of drowning, the memory warping and the echoing voice. At some point we sit down in a patch of grass, a simple circle amidst strawberry plants with a couple logs where the campers and satyrs take their breaks when they work here. Jane finishes her story and we sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, only broken by the grunts of annoyance Jane makes while trying to get her plant powers to activate again. She’s been doing that a lot.

“Well that sucks,” I say finally. “Have you been having other dreams like it?”

Jane shrugs, the neon orange fabric of her shirt wrinkling on her shoulders. “One or two, I think. Last night’s was the first one I really remembered. ” She smiles out of the corner of her mouth. “I hardly ever remember my dreams. It used to upset me. I thought I was losing potential writing material.”

I laugh. It’s such a Jane thing to think, that I can’t help it. She goes quiet, like she’s reminiscing, and I picture a tiny version of Jane, sitting crossed-legged on her summer quilt, writing. I look at her now, scrunched up nose and big brown eyes. Oh gods, she must have been an adorable child.

“My mother used to say that my imagination was the eighth wonder of the world,” Jane says. She’s looking down the hill at the cabins, plant powers temporarily forgotten, and I remember her telling me about her mother, the first Elizabeth Penderwick, who came here and was a daughter of Demeter and loved opera. The Penderwick siblings’ beloved mother who died so young.

I move closer to Jane on the log. “I can understand why she’d say that.”

Jane smiles again, a little sad this time, a little absent, but full to the brim with love.

“Bet you she’s in Elysium,” I say softly. I explained the Underworld to Jane a couple weeks ago, and she’d gotten this same absent look on her face, that I now know means she’s thinking about her mother. Jane nods, now, then turns to me. “Could we talk about something else?” Her voice is quiet, her eyes a little shiny.

“Course,” I say. “Shall I regale you with tales of dimwittery at this camp in the years past?” I told her last week about the time some Hermes kids tried to order pizza to the camp, accidently causing Chiron to think we were under attack. Jane had nearly fallen off the bench laughing.

She grins now, but shakes her head. “Tell me what it’s like being an Oracle.” I give her a look. She’s asked me before and I never really know what to say. When I give prophecies, it’s like I black out. I’m taken over by another entity who shares my body. (“Like that lady in Suicide Squad ,” Leo had said when I tried to explain it to him once, but I’d refused to be compared to such a gods-fucking-awful movie). So, in a way, I don’t know what it’s like to be the Oracle.

As if reading my thoughts, Jane shakes her head. “Not that part. I’ve seen you all green and smokey, and I know you can’t feel it. I mean the other stuff. How did you know it was you? What did you have to do to become the Oracle? That kind of thing.” I relax a little. Jane’s asked me all sorts of weird questions about Greek mythology and the gods recently. She calls it “research for her book,” but sometimes I think she’s just nosy. It’s cute.

Jane shrugs and looks off into the distance. If you tilt your head a little you can kind of see the stables from here. We have fifteen more minutes to get there, according to my watch. I decide to take it easy. “Delphi is this weird ethereal spirit,” Jane continues, “but there’s also just everyday, Oracle you, who likes paint and denim and bagels.” At that, I laugh. “I actually don’t like bagels that much. I’m just late to breakfast so often that they’re usually the only things available.”

Jane pouts at me and plays with the bracelet tied around my wrist--the one she gave me. “You know what I mean! You know all this weird shit about me because my siblings don’t shut up at lunch, and I know stuff about you, like the denim thing, which I still think is funny by the way. But you’re also the freaking Oracle! Your dormant self lies waiting!” I laugh at her, and she rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth tilting up. “Rachel, that’s very cool!”

I give in. “Honestly, there’s not much to say, that’s why I don’t talk about it.” I pause. “Well no, it’s that a lot of the stuff beyond the obvious is actually sort of creepy and weird, and not in a good way. There’s stuff I try not to think about, is what I mean.”

The edge of her yellow bandana sticks up as Jane tilts her head at me. “That makes sense. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head. “No, it feels okay right now.” I mean it. Now that I’ve gotten into the swing of it, I do want to talk about it. Still, a small sigh escapes me. “I like being the Oracle, because that’s what brought me to a place where I feel like I belong and I have people who love me. It’s nice to know that I’m fulfilling my purpose in life.”

Jane pulls her knees up to her chest. “But?”

“But I also get lonely.” It comes out in a rush. “There are other oracles, but I didn’t know about any of them until the Apollo thing happened, and even then, they’re all supernatural beings--I know, I know, but not in the way I am. It’s not the same. Also, there are all these weird rules. Like I have to stay an unmarried virgin my whole life.”

“That’s fucked,” Jane says softly.

“I know! Chiron won’t even tell me why, just that it’s ‘the rules’” I let out an annoyed huff. “And, like, it’s not even that the idea itself bothers me. That’s pretty much what I was planning to do with my life anyway.”

“Same.”

“But it’s the principle of the thing!” I flick a strand of hair out of my face, offhandedly noticing that the tip of my pinky finger is slightly green. I ignore it. It’s not important. “Just because I don’t want to have sex or get married doesn’t mean it’s a fair rule to impose on me! Besides, why is it always the women in these things whose identities are tied up in who they do or don’t fuck? Last I checked, Grover didn’t have to sign an ‘I shalt not fornicate’ contract when he became Lord of the Wild!”

“Exactly!” Jane raises her hands and shouts up to the sky. “Don’t you fuckers realize we’re more than that?”

“The Hunters of Artemis, too!” I’m a jack-in-the-box, and something’s winding me up. “Thalia and Reyna send me letters all the time, and they seem really happy! Which is great!” I pause to emphasize the greatness of their happiness. My pinky is completely green, now. “But, they also had to make a stupid ‘ode of chastity,’ like I did!”

“Are you kidding me?” Jane’s hair flips as she turns to me. “I thought Artemis was one of the good ones!”

My voice lowers to a husky rumble, and I stare into the distance towards you, the reader. “In a broken system, there are no good ones. Abolish the police.” I clear my throat and my voice turns back to normal. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” My green pinky has begun to vibrate.

“Happens to the best of us,” Jane’s voice is light and nonchalant. “And yeah, I know. Pretty much all of the gods have skeletons sitting on their shoulders, but it just seems out of character for her. I thought all of Artemis’s groups were supposed to be safe havens, not oppressive structures in their own right.”

I frown. “Yeah you’re right, that is weird. I’d never thought of it much beyond the gods having weird rules, but I wonder if something bigger is at play. The gods might be fucked up in the way that regular people are, and are undoubtedly responsible for all sorts of crap. But then there's more personal things, like the ‘chastity vows’ the Hunters and I had to take, and the fact that Nico was initially outed by Eros, and the weird unexplained eye condition that Piper had during some of her quests that made her eyes a bunch of bright, Eurocentric colors, rather than their natural brown. All sorts of other stuff, too.”

“Wow!” Jane says, sitting up straight on the grass. Her hand moves from where it was resting in her lap to cover her heart. “It’s almost like a bunch of genuinely good and inspiring material, such as including prominent queer people and characters of color in fun children’s fantasy, as well as having an immortal group of warrior women who support each other and are free from the gaze of men, was taken into the hands of a cis white man armed with unchecked misogyny and a fair amount of white Twitter feminism, both of which really showed when he tried to create an inclusive and empowering book series for children! Like yeah, it had its moments, and definitely some good characters, but overall, a lack of meaningful research in certain areas really made it fall flat!” Once again, I stare through the bindings of URLs and internet coding, now joined by Jane as we lock eyes with you, the reader. This time, we hold eye contact for nearly a minute, giving you time to read and process the long tangent spat out by this fanfic’s author, who, if we’re being honest, has gone just a tad off the rails right now. Finally, Jane and I look away from you, and resume our roles as fictional characters, still shaking off that strange cloud that comes with staring into the soul of those who give you life.

“Ugh, what’s going on with me today?” Jane groans at the same time I mutter, “What’s Twitter?” We turn to each other, blinking in the sunlight, then grin. This is normal. We’re fine. Jane looks up at the sky again. “I wonder if the gods are watching us. Maybe we should make them think we suck so they’ll leave you alone.”

I laugh as she sticks her tongue out, grinning wickedly at a nearby cloud. “Better yet, make them think we’re too powerful to be messed with,” I say. Jane sees me watching her and opens her mouth, sucking the cloud in between her teeth. The sky seems bluer in the space where it had been, and Jane’s eyes glitter with mirth as she swallows. “Mmm, tastes like sugar.” I giggle, feeling a small shiver on the top of my head. When I peer up, I see another cloud has floated over to me. I open my own mouth, and take it in, just as Jane did hers. “Sugar, yes. But there’s a touch of blood, too,” I say. Jane nods sagely. “What were we talking about?”

“The inherent misogyny in much of Greek mythology and the world of Camp Half-Blood in general.”

Jane nods again. “Right. A very important topic. It makes it weird when I’m writing sometimes. You know, cause I want to bring in Circe and Zeus and Apollo and all these fascinating characters, but there’s just so much bad stuff tied up with them that comes up when I research.” She looks down at our feet, which are standing in the midst of a strawberry patch. We seem to have been walking, crushing sweet summer strawberries as we go, which is odd because I don’t remember getting up. “You know Rachel, I’m feeling a bit strange.”

I look at her, and see an odd blankness in her warm brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, Jane, so am I.”

“My thoughts and words are my own,” Jane says, “But there’s something up with my body. I can’t really feel it.”

“I agree, I’ve honestly gone a bit numb.” I try to glance down at my fingers, wondering idly if they’ve gotten any more green, but find that my neck won’t bend.

Jane’s eyebrows furrow. “Yet, at the same time, I feel as though I could do anything. Grow another grass blade. Grow a flower. Grow a tree. Bend the world to my will if I wanted to.”

“Or is it the world bending me to its will.” I grin at my own philosophical point, but find that the smile won’t go away. Pretty fucking inconvenient, since the next thing I was going to bring up was part of the whole serious misogyny conversation. I decide to go for it anyway. “And I’m not the only one with weird rules!” Jane nods, as if this is a perfectly normal segway, and the only extraneous thought that floats through my mind as we find ourselves walking down a hill is how unfair it is that she still has control over her neck and I don’t. “Remember when I told you about the Hunters of Artemis?”

“Oh yeah! Your friends Reyna and Thalia, right?”

“Yeah, them! They send me letters sometimes, and seem really happy, which is great.” I pause, meaning to add emphasis, when I’m hit with a great sensation of deja-vu. “Wait a second, we already talked about this, didn’t we?” I try to remember, but something in my mind is rapidly melting. I cannot find it. I cannot find anything.

“Jane?” My voice quivers, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Oh gods, please let this be a dream. For a moment, I try to convince myself that it’s the Oracle of Delphi taking over, just like she did the other day and generally does a couple times a year. But I know that I’m lying. This is not what that feels like. “Jane, where are you?” I can barely move my mouth to say the words. I can feel nothing but the frozen fear of paralysis, of lost control. When I open my eyes, this other thing in my body has brought me to the edge of the forest. “Jane? Jane?” She could be right beside me, unable to speak, and I wouldn’t know because I can’t turn my head, can’t move my eyes, can barely even hear right now.

It’s okay, something says.

“Jane?” It’s not her voice. It’s no one’s voice.

It’s okay. You’re home.

With every cut the wooden oars made through the choppy ocean water, Sabrina knew she was getting closer. She could feel it in her bones, in her brain, a little voice that whispered in her ear. It had been three hours. Her body was worn down, energy levels dipping dangerously low, when she felt something scrape the bottom of her boat.

A rock.

Frantically, she peered through the fog that had begun to surround her boat a mile ago. The island. Had she finally made it?

As if answering her call, a peel of thunder rang out, and Sabrina’s boat began to fill with rain that pounded down from the sky. The storm from her dream. She rowed even faster, then, fear sparking a renewed strength in her tired muscles.

Just as Sabrina was about to reach the shore, a massive wave crashed over her, and her boat capsized. She came back up, sputtering, holding her sopping wet bag above her head. Another wave swept against Sabrina’s face, and she found herself spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. Finally, she washed up on the shore, heaving breaths raking through her lungs.

Sabrina blinked, pushing herself up onto her elbows. It was real. She was here.

She had made it.

FROM THE POV OF ROSALIND PENDERWICK

It’s been a pleasant day so far. Breakfast with my siblings and some of the Demeter cabin (though Jane did seem a bit absent-minded). Miranda, Florien, and Rio convinced me to practice some plant magic with them for a couple hours and I built up to growing a small sunflower. Lunch (again with Jane seeming distracted, though Rachel ate with us this time, which appeared to help). Then, Skye and Jeffrey disappeared with some of the older campers (supposedly for a regular game of soccer, but the unsettling gleam in their eyes had me doubting that was all there was too it), Jane and Rachel went to take a walk in the strawberry fields, and Batty and I were left to prepare for a pegasus riding lesson. If it had been up to Batty, the latter could have easily taken up the entire afternoon, but changing into durable pants and finding a bandana can only take so long.

After a somewhat restless hour, during which I grew three peonies and Batty rhapsodized about the stable of unicorns that another demigod camp apparently has, Batty and I arrive at the stable. We’re ten minutes early, and she’s been talking a mile a minute the whole time, not stopping from before. I swear I now know as much about pegasuses as she does. According to Rachel, the teacher today is Percy, her friend, who’s very responsible “when he puts his mind to it.” I wasn’t sure how to tell her that’s actually not very comforting, but Batty looked so excited and I figured there will be plenty of other people there, so. Why not. She’s been spending so much time there anyway.

Needless to say, I very much regret my decision now.

The stables are modest, made of wood and painted green, and I’ve been there several times by now. There’s a long line of stalls visible when we first walk in, but Batty skips straight to the far end, where a massive pegasus the color of a carrot pokes its head over the door and nuzzles Batty’s hair. She looks up at me with a smile that could melt anyone’s heart, and pats the horse on the nose. “Rosy, this is Queen Lotus Flower. Percy said we have a impenetrable bond.”

I look at the two of them with a questioning gaze. How can they both have the exact same puppy-dog eyes? I swear to god. The gods. All of them. “Batty, sweetheart. That horse is like ten feet tall.”

She nods enthusiastically. “I know, she’s so much taller than any other horse I’ve seen. Percy says she has the biggest wingspan of any horse at camp.”

I nod, slowly, wondering why my sister picked the biggest pegasus to fall in love with. At that moment, Percy pushes the door open. “Hey Batty! Ready for your lesson?” Batty leaves her post by Queen Lotus Flower to wrap her arms around my waist and nod. I look Percy over. He’s a few inches taller than me, with brown skin and curly hair. A beaded camp necklace, orange tshirt, and jeans. Weird arm tattoo aside, he’s one of the most normal-looking people at camp. I’ve only met him a couple times before, but, my nerves over Batty flying around on massive horses aside, I do trust him. Rachel seems to have a good taste in friends. Also, Batty likes him, and she’s still shy around a good number of Skye and Jane’s friends back in Cameron.

For the next few minutes, I watch as Percy instructs Batty on buckling Queen Lotus Flower’s giant saddle and looping the bridle over her nose. Not wavering a bit from the “lesson” aspect of all this, he steps back to let her show what she’s already learned from hanging around the stables so often, only stooping in to guide her when she gets confused. As the minutes tick by, more people show up for the lesson: three other students, and a good sized crowd of people who just like watching the pegasuses. By then, I’m seated on the grass outside the stables, soaking in the blistering sun and watching as Percy (seated atop a wiry black pegasus who Batty pointed out as Blackjack) darts around the large dusty enclosure, making final preparations for the lesson.

Skye and Jeffrey show up then, and sit on either side of me. I want to ask them where Jane and Rachel are, but they’re talking non-stop about a game they just played in the woods with some of the other campers, only switching the subject when Percy and Blackjack return and they begin discussing whether or not it should be scientifically possible for a horse to fly.

Just as Batty and Queen Lotus Flower begin a gentle trot around the enclosure, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and hear the familiar sound of Tommy’s chuckle. “She’s got a weird knack for that,” he says. I nod, grinning.

It’s been good with us. We’ve had breakfast together a few times, even played a game of basketball one afternoon. Our conversations aren’t the same as they used to be, and there’s a sense of newness that feels cold and strange every so often. But it’s good. It feels right. At least for now, this feels like where we’re supposed to be.

As Percy starts demonstrating how to take flight, I look around again. Jane and Rachel still aren’t here. They promised to come. (“For moral support!” Jane had said. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Rachel had added with a smile). I try to push it out of my head. This lesson is a big deal. Batty’s going to be flying.

She leans forward on Queen Lotus Flower’s neck.

They begin to run, moving together like a single being.

Just as they burst into the air, Batty’s euphoric smile lighting up the sky, Katie grabs my shoulders from behind. I shush her so I can lean forward and watch Batty silhouetted against the pegasus’s wide orange wings.

“Rosalind. Rosalind, guys. ” Something about the panic in Katie’s voice makes me turn around. Her usually tied back hair is loose and her clothes rumpled, giving the impression that she was dragged out of bed for this. (Some part of my brain distantly remembers her saying she was going to take a nap). Skye and Jeffrey turn around, too.

“What, what’s happening?” I reach out my hands, trying to calm her as she collapses into a squat, breathing heavily.

“Billie… found me in the cabin… had been looking for you guys… been running all over the camp… lucky I remembered about the riding lesson…”

Jeffrey leans over and puts his hands on her shoulders. She stares down at the dirt while her breathing levels.

“Katie, what are you saying? Why were you and Billie looking for us?”

She looks up, and I see that her forehead is drawn into well-worn creases of worry. “Jane and Rachel have gone into the woods.”

Something was wrong. Sabrina crouched on the wet sand, straining to see through the heavy rain. In her dream there had definitely been someone else on the island. She remembered the hunched figure, the sound of sobs leaking through the rain.

But she’d circled the shore at least twice by now, and there was nobody to be found. “Am I late or something?” she wondered aloud. Somehow, she’d gotten that dream It felt like it had been sent to her. Why did it show a person when there was no one?

Sabrina sighed and began to traipse inland, tucking a knife in her pocket. It wasn’t a big island, and she might as well find some shelter aside from her boat, which was now overturned somewhere on the beach. Circe lived here, didn’t she? There must be some sort of roof, especially if this kind of weather was standard.

Or maybe this was just a random island and there was no Aeaea and Sabrina’s dream had just been the unhinged work of her unconscious mind.

There was a small grassy hill set aside from the sand, which Sabrina crawled up with the determination of a dying warrior. Something was pushing her back. An invisible force, a last crumb of survival instinct, plain old fatigue, she wasn’t sure. But something wanted her out of here, and it pushed back harder and harder as she climbed.

She let out a cry of frustration, clawing at the ground, at the air, at whatever this goddamn thing was, and found a renewed burst of strength that pulled her to the top of the hill. Once there, the force that pushed back ebbed a little, like it was giving up. Sabrina let herself relax, and simply took in the view for a moment.

The hill she lay on top of gave way to a deep valley, sprawling and green. In one corner, there was a cluster of trees that looked healthy and comfortable, despite being on a random Greek island in the middle of the ocean. A modest garden lay next to it, somehow appearing unaffected by the rain, and a narrow river wound around the whole scene.

There was also a house.

Sabrina wasn’t sure what she might have expected from the lair of an infamous Greek enchantress, but it wasn’t this.

She hauled herself up on the hill and started down, rushing through the rain onto a wide wooden porch. There was a large stone vat of something dark and crumbly, with a heavy looking staff of sorts leaning against it. The door to the house was short, and Sabrina heard it scrape on the floor when she pushed it open.

The scene awaiting her was surprisingly cozy when she stepped inside. There was a fire in the hearth and rows upon rows of little viles arranged on a set of shelves beside it. A broom leaned against the wall. Sabrina looked around, noting the way that the rain didn’t make any sound as it thrashed against the roof and window, and the almost drug-like stupor that threatened to take over her brain, whispering that everything was fine, she was safe, nothing bad could happen to her.

Sabrina had encountered hypnosis before, and it only ever made her more jittery.

There was an open hatch in the floor with stairs that lead into darkness. She followed them down, feeling the air grow cooler with every step. Sabrina was quiet, taking tiny steps on her toes, and wincing when one of the stairs creaked. She didn’t know what was down there, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. But there were no arrows flying up from the space below, no sounds of footsteps or slashes of swords.

Sabrina stepped onto a dirt floor and let herself exhale, shuffling along until her toe hit something hard. Only seasoned reflexes made her reach for the knife in her pocket instead of crying out in fear. She knelt down and squinted in the darkness, trying to see what she’d hit.

A leg.

She frowned, shaking it until she heard a low growl. “Stop that.” She stopped.

“Who are you?” Sabrina leaned closer. If they hadn’t killed her yet she was probably safe.

Instead of answering, they reached out a hand. Sabrina could see a gold ring on the thumb that glinted in a little sliver of light that had crept down from the room above. “Pull me up,” the figure said. “I’ve been paralyzed by the witch.”

Helping the stranger sit turned out to be no simple feat. They were tall and muscular, wearing a cape and a heavy metal chest plate. “The witch?” she questioned, propping them up against one of the cellar’s dirt walls. Her eyes were beginning to adust to the dark, and she could just make out their sharp chin sticking out as their head lolled back.

The figure made a noise. “The witch, the sorceress, the woman. Whatever you want to call her. I figure she sent you down too?” They snorted. “Good luck. I told Zeus not to sent mortals, but does he ever listen? You’re gonna die.”

Sabrina tried to piece together what she could from all this. The witch must be Circe, unless she’d wound up on an entirely different island. And if Circe was going around paralyzing people, then something must be going on. She must be hiding something. As for the person in front of her, Sabrina wasn’t sure who they were. By the way they talked about Zeus, and casually said “mortals,” she’d guess some sort of god? As if that narrowed it down. She’d have to be careful.

“Why did she paralyze you?”

Another weird gutteral noise. “She didn’t like my offer. It’s not the first time this has happened.”

She was growing impatient. Why’d he have to be so vague? “What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why he always sends me. I don’t think he trusts me. He’d rather me stay her paralysed in the basement of a witch than come back home.”

Sabrina let out an exasperated sigh. This wasn’t working and she needed answers. A whole coast of people with mythology-shaped holes in their memories awaited her. “You’re going to need to be a little more specific. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

The figure sounded confused. “What do you mean? Don’t you know who I am?”

She leaned forward and inspected them in the darkness. “No. No I don’t.”

They slid their eyes down to her face. “I am the god Apollo. I came here for Circe and she did this to me.”

“What? Why?”

The stairs creaked behind Sabrina and she felt a long nail drag up her back. “I just want to be left alone,” said a voice as deep and powerful as the smell of red wine. “You don’t mind, do you?” Before Sabrina could grab her knife and turn around, before she could even scream, strong arms had surrounded her shoulders and a hand was clamping a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. Shock made her breath in, sharply, and she smelled the sweetness of sleeping drugs.

A heartbeat, a brief struggle, and Sabrina Starr was gone.

[danadeservesadrink]

Hi, I saw a post about you wanting requests, not sure if they are still open or not. But if they are, I would love to see something with a fluff/angst spin, where Scully comforts Mulder after a tough case and it leads to feelings FINALLY being revealed. If not, sorry to bother you and hope your day is fantastic.

Hello! So sorry this took me so long to write, but prompts are always welcome even if I can’t get to them right away! But happy fictober, I hope you enjoy!

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Pusher missing scene, Rated T, 1.7k words, tagging @today-in-fic

She fought the collapse for as long as she could. She carries him out of the building, into the car, his weight leaning into her small shoulders. He whispered in her ear, questioning if she was ok for the fourth time since they got in the elevator and she offered him reassuring nods and a quirk of her lip, smoothing sweat-slicked hair off his brow as it furrowed, trying to get a read on her. He tried to walk on his own but the exhaustion of sharing your skull with another man overtook him, and he draped his body over her tiny frame, trusting only her to hold him. He crumbled down on top of her and she was forced to stand like Atlas and hold the weight of her world. 

Sloughing him off into the passenger seat she drove them home in silence. His phone rang and he blindly reached to answer it, but she snatched it from the center console before he could, silencing it. He stared, dazed and confused, at her set jaw and white knuckles, before he let the silence take him and slumped into the cool window, letting the rumble of the interstate pull his thoughts away. 

Her hand met his cheek in a gentle swipe to let him know they had arrived home. 

“I can do it” he had insisted, but when he stumbled out of the car she was right at his side, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. 

“I’ll walk you up” she replied, and let him try to convince himself he could have made it there without her. His fingers wound their way around her shoulder and she shivered as he gripped her there. But she did not waver. Someone slammed a car door and the sound rang like a gunshot off the cement walls and he was the one with white knuckles now, bruising fingers latched onto her after both of them jumped in fear. He released a breath when she met his eye cautiously, and the pair moved inside. 

The elevator was filled to the brim with their silence, she doesn’t know how anyone else could have gotten on. The third floor dinged and doors opened to an empty hallway they were both grateful for. Explaining their fragile state to a neighbor would have been difficult. They walked joined at the hip to his door, and as his hands shook with his key she stole it from his fingers to press it into the lock herself. 

He tumbled forward with the door, his final resting place in sight, abandoning her sturdy crutch to fall neatly onto the couch with a grunt. She followed him in, watching him close his eyes and settle into the leather. She stood over him a statue, stillness to conquer his shake, watching as he trembled with exhaustion. She wanted him to rest, she wanted the tension to release itself from his shoulders, she wanted the thoughts that were haunting his mind to leave and never return. She was frightened by how easily she would have killed for him. How thoughts of pure oxygen lept from her brain at the sight of him with that gun pressed to his temple. Her only thoughts were of how to get it, and how when she did she was going to pull the trigger as many times as it would take to get him out of their heads. She wasn’t thinking of all the lives this man had taken from the world, that he was a murderer, a sick bastard who deserved to be dead because of justice. She only cared that he might take away his life. 

He went to sit up, but she practically saw the stars spinning behind his eyes. Carefully she pressed him back down onto the couch, his protesting weak.

“You need to rest”, she insisted. He nodded slowly, but wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 

“Please don’t leave”, he whispered, and it was her turn to nod. She sank to her knees slowly, and he relaxed his grip on her so she could spin to sit with her back against the couch on the cold floor. Her hand reached up over her shoulder and their fingers twisted together. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, call and response. 

“I was so sure” she heard him mumble. She didn’t know if it was for her to hear, but the silence had seeped so deeply into her ears that she felt like screaming, so she replied. 

“Sure about what?” 

“Sure that if he had me, I would be able to fight it”, he sighed, choking slightly on his words. She shook her head, amazed at his arrogance. 

“Why, Mulder? He pushed people to kill themselves, light themselves on fire. He convinced a man’s heart to stop beating and you truly believed you could fight it?” 

He laughed and she felt like shaking him. 

“I don’t know. I was his worthy adversary. I knew him, I knew what he wanted, how he ticked. Something in me believed he wouldn’t be able to control me” 

His voice grew stronger with every word, and she was inclined to believe him. She couldn’t deny that she’d been praying for the same thing. With all the demons that had haunted them over the years, when she watched him walk through the hospital doors she had wanted to believe that he was strong enough to fight it. He was brilliant, he knew the mind better than anyone she knew, but still it wasn’t enough. She had practically begged him at the table, begged him to be stronger than he was, begged him to do the impossible. 

“But he did. And you almost shot yourself”

Her words were bitter and she tasted the bile in her throat at the image of Mulder’s brilliant brains bloody on her blouse, blown to pieces by his own hubris. 

“I almost shot you,” he whispered harshly, “That's worse.”

“Mulder how can you say that?” she choked out. 

“Because if I died of my own arrogance I would have paid the price for my mistake. If you died because of me I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself”. As he spoke he gripped her palm tighter, stroking his thumb over hers like a metronome for his confession. 

“Mulder if you died…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her head dropped and her mind was invaded with the thought of him gone, wiped from the face of the earth for good, his wonderful confident mind splattered on pristine hospital tile.

She fought the collapse for as long as she could. But her pillar came crumbling to dust and a sob wracked her body. She was supposed to be his strength, she wasn’t the one who’s mind had been invaded, torn in half, pitted against itself. But he pulled on her hand and she twisted up into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. She held onto him for dear life and sobbed into his shirt. The hand she had been holding found a place on the back of her head, pressing her lightly to his stomach, and she felt him shake under her. 

“I’m so sorry” he wept, arms wrapping around her and pulling her off her knees into him. She fit herself on top of him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms engulfing her as if he could pull her further into him. His apologies spilled out into her hair as he pressed his lips to her scalp and begged for forgiveness. Eventually the words fell away and only their sniffs and hiccups were left, their tears falling silently in tandem. When even those drifted away, she pulled herself up off of his chest and he followed her, refusing to let her be out of his grasp for even a second. 

“Scully I need you to know.” His eyes were wet and pleading. He looked at her with such intensity she was frightened. “I need you to know how much you mean to me” 

They were close. Too close. This kind of collapse only comes with closeness and until quite recently they had forbidden this level of intimacy for fear of this exact scenario. She was practically sitting in his lap and his arms were still around her somehow and there was a wet stain in the center of his chest and it was all far too much to deny. 

But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.

“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them. 

Slowly she inched her face forward, eyes still closed, exploring the contact between the two of them. Her nose brushed his cheek and she felt him still like a statue, awaiting what was to come. Her lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, quick and dangerous, and she pulled back almost instantly. Her tongue darted out and she tasted the salt of him on her lips. She squeezed his hands, and felt a flutter within her when he pulsed back quickly. 

She was braver this time, finding his lips with hers, and he kissed her back instantly, desperate to convey his affection. Neither pushed deeper, allowing the soft contact of lips on lips to linger between them, a simple profession of the utmost devotion.

She pulled back eventually, wanting to look at him fully. She smiled a tentative smile when she saw the pain that had dwelled in his eyes replaced by the smallest glimmer of hope.  

“Now there’s that smile I was looking for” he teased, which only resulted in her smile widening. 

“You should get some rest Mulder” 

“Only if you’ll rest with me”, and he pulled her back down until she lay slotted next to him, face pressed into the warmth of his chest. The silence of sleep taking them both, comforting confessions still hanging in the air surrounding them. They had time to sort through the rubble tomorrow. For now, their time belonged to them and them alone. 

[98prilla]

Seeking Oblivion

Next

Previous

AO3

...

It was… unnerving, Janus had to admit, walking through such a dead, quiet imagination. Virgil had taken the lead, eyes scanning the forest, head slightly cocked as he listened for anything approaching.

 Idly, he let his hand trail through the mist, watching it part around his fingers. It didn’t even feel like anything. Nothing did. He was used to the imagination having substance, depth, birds singing, wind blowing, the thousand little details that made it all feel real.

 Even the vines, huge as they were, didn’t seem fully really… real. There was no sound, not even their own footsteps made noise against the ground, no smell, from the earth or the vines or mist, and nothing different to see for miles. The land itself didn’t even have any character to it, it was all one endless flat plain of vines the size of redwoods and the smoky fog that obscured the ground. At least that made it easy terrain to traverse. They were making better time than anyone had anticipated, though now that they were getting deeper, it was getting harder to keep their bearings.

 He let his pace slow just a tad, falling back to walk step in step with Logan. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Janus didn’t want to interrupt him. So he simply waited, walking silently until Logan seemed to come back to the present, acknowledging his presence with a small nod.

 “Janus. Is there something you needed?” Logan’s voice was even and calm, and it was an absolute lie. And that was partially Janus’ own fault.

 “No. But I have something long owed you, if you’ll have it. An apology.” He replied softly enough the others wouldn’t hear, but Logan could. This wasn’t their business, but he owed Logan this.

 “For what, exactly?” Logan, not pausing in his stride, though some barely repressed emotion flashed across his face.

“A multitude of things. The most recent of which is pulling you out and replacing you yesterday.” He noticed Logan rub his neck where his cane had hooked him, wincing as he saw a flash of a bruise peeking out from under his collar. “I did not mean to hurt you, physically or otherwise, and I know I did both.” Logan looked hard at him for a moment before sighing, clasping his hands behind his back.

 “What did you hope to accomplish, in impersonating me at that juncture?”

 “I hoped they would listen, that Thomas, at least, would listen, before things went any farther. And they would have never listened to me, as I am, not then.” Logan let out a small, bitter laugh.

 “Clearly you weren’t paying attention to events before you pulled me out. Patton skipped me. I did not agree with his views, so he decided no one needed to hear them. I already minimized my presence as small as it could be without being completely gone, and even that was not enough.” He was shocked at the amount of hurt Logan was displaying now. He’d known the logical side was not alright for quite a bit, but he hadn’t realized how deeply hurt he was.

 “and I’m sorry for that as well, because I am guilty of silencing you when your opinions did not align with mine. I excluded you from the trial because I knew you would be able to much better defend Thomas, yes, but also because I was trying to show Patton, specifically, that his moral code was flawed. Regardless, that doesn’t excuse my actions, or my part in keeping you from being heard. You should be listened to, Logan. You have so much of such import to say.” They walked on in silence for a moment, Logan’s brain clearly turning over everything he’d said.

 “I understand why you took the course of action you pursued. I also understand the frustration of not being listened to or ignored when you have the solution everyone is seeking, if only they’d take you seriously enough to listen. I appreciate the apology, Janus. You… are the only one who has apologized for anything, in regards to my treatment. I… don’t fully forgive you, yet, but… but I think I will, given time.” He nodded, tugging at his gloves, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 “Of course. I look forwards to earning your forgiveness, Logan. And, for the record, I have always found your lectures interesting.” Logan’s eyes were on him again, scrutinizing him. “Also, I know when you lie, about emotions, and the having of them, specifically. If you ever do want to discuss them, not a word of it will leave the threshold of my room.” He responded seriously, making sure Logan could see he means it. “you’re the one who said repression doesn’t work, Logan.” He threw in for good measure, and finally Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses.

 “That was prudent of me, wasn’t it?” He laughed at the wry dryness of Logan’s voice, not missing the small upturn of Logan’s lips as well. “Perhaps, once this is resolved, I will take you up on that offer to… ‘spill the tea’, as it were.”  

 And that’s where Roman would have laughed. Janus could feel the absence of his booming voice, his bright laugh, in every echo of silence that passed by. He let out a long breath, trying to see anything ahead, but finding nothing new as he continued to follow Virgil’s lead, thankful for his impeccable inner compass as he kept companionable pace with Logan.

 …

 “We should stop.” Everyone looked up from their tired trudging at Virgil’s own tired voice. It was the first thing he’d said since they started walking, who knew how long ago. There didn’t seem to be any sun or day/night cycle, everything was the endless, growing gray.

 “I concur. We need a break to rest. We should try and sleep for a few hours, at least.” Logan added, wincing slightly as he sat, feet sore from more walking than he was used to. “I would advise everyone avoid the thorns. You can experiment later, Remus, when we aren’t already on a quest to rescue a creativity.” Logan added, side eyeing Remus, who was about to lick one of the thorns. Remus huffed but plopped down to the ground, spread out like a starfish as he swung his arms and legs back and forth across the ground.

 “Um… whatcha doin, kiddo?” Patton asked, looking down at Remus, who stopped his furious movement for a moment.

 “Making mist devils.” He replied, sitting up. For a moment, a perfect outline of Remus stayed imprinted in the mist on the ground, before it coalesced once again. Patton’s eyes widened and he giggled.

 “That’s pretty neat! Mind if I join?” Remus’s eyes widened and he smiled, small and hesitant, a real smile, as he nodded. Logan sighed, watching the two of them flail on the ground, devolving into giggles as they tried to make different shapes with their wild movements. It wasn’t rest, but they were relieving tension, and at least they seemed to be getting along.

 Virgil had slumped to the ground as well, knees hugged to his chest, head resting atop them. That pose always meant he was worried. So did the eye shadow he wore, already a shade darker than when they had entered.

 “What if we can’t fix whatever is wrong with Roman?” Virgil blurted suddenly, the thought clearly having been revolving through his head all day.

 Janus sat down beside him, resting a hand on his knee, feeling him just barely shaking.

 “we will.”

 “How can you be so sure? We don’t even know what he’s done to himself! I mean, look at this place! And Remus said he didn’t feel anything, nothing, from Roman! What… what if we’re too late?” He asked, quieter, voice shaking, and Logan moved to sit on Virgil's other side.

 “We have overcome all of Thomas's previous dilemmas, yes?” Virgil nodded. “And, though difficult, we have each worked through our own personal dilemmas together, correct?” once again, Virgil nodded. “and we are all still growing and changing and coming to terms with ourselves and with each other. But we have always gotten through it all by working together. It stands to reason this will be no different.” Logan finished, watching Virgil carefully, feeling a spike of pride as he saw him using the 4,7,8 technique.

 “I know. I… I’m just… I can’t stop thinking, y'know?” Virgil said, running a hand through his hair. “I'm just worried. He went through a lot, yesterday, and I know how that can mess with your head.” He mumbled, not protesting as Janus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting his head rest on Janus's chest as his other arms wrapped around him, reminding him of the weight and pressure of his weighted blanket. It felt like home and he nearly cried, burrowing further against him, exhaustion from the trek and the day before and all the stress in general cresting over him now that he felt safe.

 “get some rest, love. You could use it.” Janus murmured, and Virgil could feel a hand massaging his scalp. He nearly purred at the gentle touch, letting his thoughts go as he slipped into sleep.

…

“you’re rather good at that.” Logan commented, rolling his eyes as he looked over to see Remus and Patton had fallen asleep playing with the mist, and were now snuggled on top of each other, both snoring slightly. Janus followed his gaze and chuckled.

 “I had plenty of practice. His Dark Days were something to behold.”

 “Dark days? As in when he lived you as a ‘dark side' as Roman called you all?” Janus shook his head.

 “Not quite. When… when he first formed, he was afraid, so afraid, of everything. He couldn’t stop the panic attacks, he was paranoid that everything and everyone was out to get him. Being in his room for barely a minute was unbearable. It took a long time to build trust with him, longer before he would let me help him. He slowly got better at managing, at recognizing the worst of the irrational thoughts, at not isolating himself quite so much. It was hard, the hardest was getting him to believe he deserved anyone’s kindness, getting him to fight for himself.” He shivered slightly, remembering the creeping fear of Virgil's room, the voices whispering, distant screams, eyes watching him from the corners of the room, shadows moving in the edge of his vision. Virgil’s own growling, echoing voice, tempest tongue tempering every word he said with that dark reverb that somehow only grew louder until it drove you insane.

 “I’m proud of him. I’m proud of you, Janus.” His eyes widened as his gaze shot to Logan. “You’ve come very far as well. I know none of that was easy. Trusting us, wasn’t easy.” Unconsciously, Janus rubbed at his wrist, the ghost of bare skin making him sigh.

 “I suppose not. But it was necessary. If I wanted your trust, I had to give some of my own. It… is terrifying. With the little I’ve given, how easy it would be to break me down. I know that you won’t, but it still doesn’t change the power you all hold over me now.”

 “We haven’t done a very good job of showing you the benefits of trust. Recently, only the downsides have been demonstrated. None of us have been at our best for some time now.” Logan answered, sighing. Janus smiled tiredly, shifting away his extra arms, idly stroking down Virgil’s back as the side’s eyes twitched in his sleep.  

 “We should try and get some sleep. Remus is a font of energy, he’ll be up in a few hours badgering the rest of us until we get moving again.” Janus commented, Logan frowning.

 “unless Roman’s state starts influencing Remus as well. I know they are linked, but I am unsure of the depth of their bond.”

 “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s… unpredictable, how it affects him, sometimes. I’ll keep a closer eye on him just in case, I know his tells better than anyone else.” Logan nodded, smiling a bit fondly as he looked at the pile of Remus and Patton.

 “hopefully we’ll have Roman back with us soon enough we won’t have to worry about it.” Logan answered, settling on his side on the ground, watching Janus do likewise, noticing his slight shiver now that he was closer.

 Without thinking much of it, Logan moved closer, curling around Janus, who had laid down facing away from him, Virgil curled against his chest, still.

 “Is this alright? I noticed you were cold, and with our combined body heat, you should be able to reach a more optimal temperature.” He asked, ready to withdraw, but Janus shook his head after a moment.

  “It’s alright. This… is nice. It is warmer.” Janus replied after a moment of thought, and Logan shifted closer, resting his head in the crook of Janus’s neck, closing his eyes and falling asleep instantly, missing Janus' own small, happy sigh.

[firstdegreefangirl]

Eddie Week Day Four: Between The Sheets

Word Count: 2135

Original Pub Date: 17 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Author's Note: This whole thing started with a convo in @rebeccaofsbfarm's inbox, so blame/credit to her for helping me cheat my way through this prompt! Love youuuu

Read on ao3 here

Just like aways, tagging: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck  @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly  @myemergence 

Eddie pushes the front door open, almost trips over his own feet trying to step across the threshold. Buck is right behind him, laughing when Eddie doesn’t pick his feet up far enough and catches his toe on the lip of the doorframe.  

“Shut up, I just want to shower and go to bed.” He grumbles, leaning both palms against the wall for balance as he toes his shoes off.  

They’d stopped at a drive-thru on the way to the house, Eddie riding in the passenger seat of Buck’s Jeep because he was already too exhausted to drive. He’d tried to wave Buck off at the mention of food but Buck ordered for him anyway, shoving a cardboard container of chicken nuggets and fries in his lap and threatening to drive circles around town until he’d eaten it all.  

The long shift had drained the last reserves of energy from the entire team, but Eddie had taken a harder hit than the rest, having spent half of the night before sitting up in Christopher’s bed and rubbing his back after a bad dream.

“I know, that’s why I had to drive you home. Thanks for the couch invite, by the way. Way better than another 15 minutes behind the wheel.”  

“Anytime, man.” Eddie rocks on his feet as he leans away from the wall, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “You want first shower?”

“You never leave any hot water.” But Buck’s eyes soften when he sees the way Eddie can barely hold himself up. “But you’re not going to make it if I shower first …" He trails off, and Eddie can feel him mulling something over.  

Watching Buck think is only making him more tired, so he leans his back against the wall and sighs.

“What, Buck? You going to say we should shower together?” He turns his head just far enough to see Buck out the corner of his eye.  

“I mean, we change together at work. Why not kill two birds with one stone? It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked.”  

Eddie thinks about what Buck said, processes the words as they roll through his brain. He’s all but dead on his feet, but he has to admit that there’s a certain amount of logic to what Buck is saying.  

They’ve gotten dressed side by side countless times since Eddie joined the 118, stood naked underneath separate showerheads in the open-layout shower at the station.  

Buck is right, he’s pretty sure. There’s not much difference between catching a glimpse of your buddy in the locker room and standing in the same bathtub to shower.  

Besides, it won’t be weird unless he makes it weird, right?

“True.” Eddie nods and stands back upright, careful not to overbalance himself and faceplant. “Works for me.” He wonders briefly if falling asleep in the shower would be considered “weird,” if Buck would catch him if he toppled over underneath the spray.

It would, but Buck would anyway, he decides as he leads Buck down the hall to the master bath.

They stand next to each other to undress, shoulder-to-shoulder but facing opposite directions. It’s not a production, just the way they wind up, each of them watching behind the other, having each other’s backs.  

When the water is hot enough to fog up the mirror, Eddie pulls the door back and they step over the edge to face each other under the showerhead. The air is thick with steam, enough humidity that Buck’s hair starts to curl almost right away. Eddie focuses carefully on a ringlet that’s wrapped around the top of his ear, knows that he has to keep his eyeline above Buck’s shoulders, lest he make his best friend uncomfortable.

Here’s the thing: Eddie’s never thought of his shower as particularly small. It’s got more than enough room for him to maneuver, a showerhead with more settings than he has fingers and a glass door that lets in enough light to open the space up without flooding the bathroom.

But apparently when two grown men stand in it at the same time, it’s just tight enough that Eddie has to think carefully about his every move. How can he reach for the shampoo without touching Buck’s bicep? Can he lean back far enough to rinse the suds out of his hair without invading Buck’s personal space? Can he lean back that far without falling over, on account of the exhaustion dragging through his limbs?

He can, it turns out, but he’s really too tired to have to actively think about it. Maybe Buck’s big idea saved them a few minutes, but by the time they’re painstakingly switching positions, letting Buck run his hair under the water and wash the lather from his body, he’s exponentially more drained than he was when they walked in the front door.

Thankfully, they’re both able to clean themselves up and dry off without bumping into one another. There’s enough space in the open bathroom for them to stand a couple of feet apart as they wrap themselves in fresh towels, and Eddie tosses Buck a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt when he’s digging through his dresser drawers.  

They don’t face each other when they’re getting dressed, leave enough space between them again to avoid any unintentional contact. But when Buck stands up, Eddie winces in sympathy at the way his back pops. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realizes that Buck probably shouldn’t sleep on the couch tonight, especially not if his back is already making sounds like that. A solution pops into his mind and falls out of his mouth all in one fell swoop, before he can realize what he’s saying.

“Sleep in my bed.”

Buck turns around as he pulls the shirt down over his stomach, eyes going wide in surprise.

“What?”

“Your back popped,” like that explains it. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Eddie … I’m not kicking you out of your own room.”

“No, you’re not.” Eddie nods, the fringes of his idea fitting together in his head. “It’s a big bed. We can both fit; I have a king. You’re too tall for the couch, Buck. It’s fine, I’m inviting you.”  

Eddie’s tired enough that he’s starting to feel a little drunk with it, but he’s not so far gone that he misses the way he can see Buck struggling with his options.  

He sleeps over all the time, but Eddie’s never suggested sharing the bed before. He’s thought about it, in the mornings when he can see Buck trying to work the knots out of his shoulders without Eddie noticing, but he’s always stopped himself before he says anything.

“OK,” Buck nods, but he still doesn’t seem sure. “But only until I convince you to buy a new couch, dude.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, is suddenly too close to sleep to formulate a response. He steps past Buck, back into the bathroom, ignoring the way their bodies brush against each other as he jams his toothbrush haphazardly around his mouth. As soon as he feels like he’s at least brushed most of his teeth, he’s spitting into the sink and stumbling across the room to pull the blankets back and collapse into bed.  

His face is buried in his pillow, but there’s just enough light seeping in at the edges of his vision that he’s still awake. So he waves one arm absently behind him, hoping Buck gets the message.

“Turn th’ light ‘ff, come lay d’wn.” The pillow muffles his voice, even as it carries back to his own ears, but Buck seems to know exactly what he’s asking, because a few seconds later, the room goes black and the mattress dips beside him as Buck settles in.

“You’re sure about this?”

They’re not touching, but Buck is close enough that Eddie can feel his breath hot against the side of his face.

“Yes, Buck ‘m sure.” Eddie groans and rolls over. “We don’t have to cuddle or ‘nything. Just shut up and sleep.”  

It’s his last conscious thought, until he wakes up the next morning with an arm slung across Buck’s waist. He looks up slowly, only to find that Buck is already staring down at him, and snatches his hand back.  

“Buck! I’m-”  

“Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t have to be a thing.” Buck rolls over and stands up, and they don’t speak of it again. Buck makes breakfast, like he always does when he stays over, and they get ready to ride back to the station after dropping Chris off at Pepa’s to catch the bus.  

But it does become a thing. Buck doesn’t stay over any more often than he did before, but there’s a whole new routine now.  

It turns out that it’s actually really convenient to have someone else in the shower to give Eddie a hand with that strip of skin on his upper back that he can’t quite reach. And there’s nobody in their right mind would sleep on the couch when Eddie’s mattress is on offer right now the hallway.  

There’s no deeper meaning to it, other than the convenience of having someone right there beside him. After the long shifts, they’ll lay awake together, reassuring each other that they’d done everything they could. They always start out fully clothed, leaving a careful distance between them, but after a few weeks that changes too.

Now, more nights than not, he and Buck will wake up curled together and find that one or both of them had pulled their shirts off overnight.  

It doesn’t have to mean anything though, and every time Eddie tries to decide if it does, he remembers that he’s setting an example for Christopher, showing him that two men can be affectionate and open with each other.  

That’s it. That’s all it means.

Which is why he doesn’t think anything of it when he throws Buck’s shirt in his duffel bag before work one morning. Buck had stayed over the night before, but left before Eddie was awake so he could make it across the freeway for an early dentist appointment before work. He’d brought a change of clothes, but Eddie isn’t surprised that he was rushing to get out the door and left his shirt behind.  

He isn’t sure why it’s so important that Buck never leaves clothes behind, but that seems to be the line they’ve silently drawn in the sand.  

So he takes the shirt to the station, but Buck is already out of the locker room when he walks in. He changes into his uniform, then carries the garment out to the common area, trying not to let himself think about how soft and worn in it feels before he tosses it at the back of Buck’s head.

“Hey, you left this in bed last night. Figured you’d want it back.”  

Buck reaches up and pulls the shirt off of his head, turning it over in his hands before folding it neatly and setting it on his knee.

“Thanks, Eds.” He doesn’t say anything else, or react otherwise, but when Eddie looks around, Hen and Chimney are staring between them, mouths agape in twin ‘o’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s Chim who breaks the silence, leaning forward like there’s some remarkable story about to be told.

“What?” Buck blinks at him. “Eddie’s bed is way comfier than his couch, so I sleep there now. I suppose you’re going to say it’s weird that we shower together sometimes too? We’re best friends, we don’t need boundaries.”

He sounds dead serious, and Eddie finds himself relieved to know that Buck isn’t any more hung up on how to describe their routine than he is; they’re friends who share a bed and a shower, who cares?

“It’s not weird,” Hen sets her hand on Buck’s knee, right over the shirt. “It’s just not friends, Buckaroo.”  

Buck says something in response, but Eddie isn’t sure what it is, can't make out the words over the sound of the realization ringing in his ears.

It’s not friends.

He’s still reeling from it that night, lying in bed with Buck, whose made himself comfortable tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie’s arm is around his shoulders, fingers toying lightly with the groove where his bicep and chest are pressed together. He can’t stop thinking about what Hen said earlier, about the freight train that drove straight into his heart.

It’s not friends.

Maybe … just maybe, if it could feel like this, if it could feel more than this, better than this, Eddie thinks he might want to be more than not-friends with Buck.  

But sleep is pulling him under, so he decides that’s a thought that can wait until they wake up next to each other in the morning.