#*tosses and turns for two hours because eating got my appetite going and now I’m still. fucking. hungry*

[badolmen]

hungy

[bestruction]

Getting high with them for the first time

N/A: If you do drugs do it safely

My masterlist

- Eren Jaeger

He's not the type of guy who pressured you to use, let alone say you're immature or coward for it. When you decide to try it, it's genuinely your idea, and who better than your boyfriend to teach?

That's how you end up in his room, with the door and windows lock to make sure the smell doesn't catch his parent's attention. You sat on the carpet while he carefully rolls the joint so that the cigarette holder doesn't fall.

“Tighten your lips like this and take a deep breath through your mouth” He took a short drag before releasing the smoke “But not too long since this is your first time your throat is not used to the smoke”

You nod and accept the cigarette doing as he said. You feel the smoke warm your mouth, watch it hoover before your eyes after blowing and wait for...Nothing. No different sensation, no tingling, literally nothing.

"I don't think it worked"

“It is not like a switch. Wait a minute, babe ”

You talk a little about the day-to-day of the two and then go to play something new that he had bought. After a few games and a few more huffs, you still don't feel any difference or anything. You even try to hold the smoke in your mouth for a longer time, which results in you coughing incessantly and Eren laughing in your face. Hearing him laugh has always been one of your favorite things. The way he bends his body and laughs out loud without shame until he blushes always makes you laugh together with him, like now.

You laugh, laugh until your body asks for air and needs to alternate between laughter and breathing. You feel calm, relax as if you had lifted a weight off your shoulders. You lay on the carpet feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin ... Was it always that soft? So silky? So comfortable? You close your eyes and rub your hand over the texture, and then the smell of Eren's citric perfume invades your nose. When you opened your eyes, jade eyes were watching you closely.

"I think it has taken effect now, huh?" He says stroking your hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" He asks, getting on top of you.

"A few times"

“Then I’m going to tell you again: you’re beautiful” he kisses your lips “So damn beautiful” He kisses your chin “Every single part of you” And now your jaw.

You two spent the afternoon making out on the floor and praising each other. Not because you were high, I mean, not only, but because being so sensitive brought it even more evident how much you wanted each other.

- Levi Ackerman

You had a horrible week. It seemed that everything that could go wrong over the course of seven days had made a point of happening even worse than you imagined. When you got home even after taking a long hot shower and lying in bed, you're unable to relax.

"If you keep turning from side to side, I won't sleep either" Murmured Levi.

"I know. Sorry"

"I'm not complaining. Come here" He pulls you to lie on his chest "Better?"

"A little bit"

"Just a little bit?" He smiles softly "You can try what I do when I get like this"

"Do you mean the mushrooms?"

"If you want to"

You two get out of bed and go to the kitchen. He takes a clear plastic bag from the fridge and places it in front of you. Levi is not the type of guy who gets high all the time. It's more like an escape for when his stress is too high, like yours. He already used it when you met him, and even if you didn't, you never saw a problem with it.

"Just it?"

"I can make tea if you prefer"

"Why don't you use weed like everyone else?"

"Too much work. To roll, check for purity. With mushrooms, I just need to buy and chew them ”

"Well, bon appetit"

You two eat the frozen mushrooms. The taste is not so bad, but it is not a good thing and the smell reminds you of something that had been removed from the forest, which makes sense. Levi suggests that you lie down on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie. There was no need to worry about tomorrow as it would be a day off for both of you.

Lying on Levi's lap and watching the TV, the colors start to shine before your eyes. You didn't remember the white wall looking so vivid, or the pixels on the TV seeming to slow down when you focused on a specific point. It was your house, but it didn't look real. You felt inside a peaceful dream, and inside that dream, you fell asleep forgetting about your nightmare week.

- Armin Arlert

It's your idea. It's Mikasa's birthday party, and Connie had taken some ecstasy pills from whoever wants to use them. So you take two, drag your boyfriend to the bathroom and lock the door.

"You don't have to do it with me if you don't want to, Armin"

"I'm curious too," He says, staring at the little pink pills on your hand.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him. You want the experience to be as safe as possible. Then both sit in the bathtub and wait for the effect while talking. About half an hour later, you notice how dilated are the pupils of the blond in front of you. Your hearing is a little muffled, and you feel happy and light for no apparent reason. A slight tingle comes and goes through your body, like a wave spreading that sensation across your skin.

You go over to Armin and sit on his lap. He smiles at you, and more than ever, you want to kiss him until you're out of breath, and he's not different from you.

Armin takes your hand between his and brings it to his mouth. He spreads small, short kisses on your hand. You focus on the feeling of his lips running over your skin. You are so damn sensitive even his breathing makes you shiver.

As if a magnetic force pulls you both, you two kiss, letting that soft cloud of pleasure envelop you both. When Armin presses you against his body, deepening the kiss and tasting your mouth, you want to break the laws of physics and be able to occupy the same place as him. You want to become one with him.

And the two of you may not be able to do it, but you certainly tried A LOT in that bathroom.

- Jean Kirstein

Jean is handsome, tall, friendly, and intelligent. So when he starts to be invited to every possible party in college, you’re not surprised. You two have been dating since high school, and you don't feel jealous if he goes to parties alone but he always finds a way to convince you to accompany him with some excuse. Like,  that it would be a lot more fun if you're next to him.

Today, this is one of those times when he convinces you. It's not that you don't like parties kind of, but a party full of strangers doesn't seem like the most attractive thing to you. Then after dancing and talking to people for a long time, he drags you to one of the rooms in the house to give you a well-deserved break.

"Thank you for coming with me," He said, hugging you from behind after closing the door.

"I'm going to want some compensation for that, Kirstein," You said, sitting down in an armchair that was there.

"How about ... That" Jean takes a bag with two white pills out of his pocket and tosses it towards you.

"What is it?"

"LSD"

"What kind of people have you been involved with?" You joke “If your mom knew what you've been up to, Jeanboo”

"Shut up" He sat next to her "If you want to try, I try"

It wouldn't be his first time getting high, he used to smoke weed with Eren in the basement since high school, but it would be yours. As I said, Jean is smart. You knew he had been wanting to try acid for some time. So of course, he had researched on.

Honestly? You are curious but afraid after so many speeches “don’t do drugs, kids”. Jean would never propose anything that could endanger the two of you, which is exactly why he only suggested it when you were alone, and if you said "no" it would be like it never happened.

"Is it just swallowing?"

"Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve"

You lie down on the floor and take it at the same time. It tastes bitter, but unlike any medicine, you've taken in your life.

It takes some time for it to start taking effect, but when it finally did you know. The sound of loud music, muffled by the walls of the room seems to be inside your head now. The colors tremble in front of you, mixing, moving, becoming more intense. You raise your hand towards the ceiling, and you don't feel like that's your hand. Everything seems surreal. You feel calm but active. It's like being very drunk, but the other way around.

Jean pulls you into his chest, and you can hear his heart pumping blood at full speed, like yours. You feel your throat dry, your body sweat, and your hands get cold.

If I could define that feeling with a word, it would definitely be intense.

You spent the night like that. Watching the furniture move and change shape, lying on the floor and without detaching from each other. At some point, you ended up sleeping, and after having the weirdest dream of your life, you woke up with Jean calling you carefully. The sun had already risen, and the house was silent, indicating that the party was over a long time ago.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, helping you to stand.

“Hungry and hungover”

He mumbles something about also being, and you go out to eat at the nearest cafeteria.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @wrenstrange! Put up the decorations, it’s finally time again! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1957 Warnings: pure fluff, blood sample/needle/syringe, soft!Loki, fatique, fainting

You dropped like a piece of wood right about when you were making yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Knees ceasing to support you any longer, vision darkening, stars dancing around you making you dizzy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and before you knew it, your body finally won and shut down.

Although if you could have chosen, you would not have fallen straight into Loki’s arms whose reflexes caught you, preventing you from hitting the hard floor beneath you. He cradled you with his brows furrowed, his blue gaze almost helpless as he looked at Thor and Stark for support.

Then, everything went black.

-

“Welcome back.” You blinked, the artificial lights above your head blinding you. A hand held you down when you attempted to sit up drowsily. Bruce was leaning against a metal table in Tony’s lab, hands crossed before his chest and with a concerned expression on his face. “You blacked out,” he explained, “out of the blue.”

“How are you feeling?” Tony added.

You only realised then that it was Loki who had held you down. He was sitting on a chair right next to the makeshift bed they had carried into Tony’s lab and he was observing you with Argus eyes. Your heart sped up when you noticed. You usually tended to avoid the God of Mischief at all cost. There was a part of you that was afraid of him after watching him making an entire crowd kneel in Stuttgart, the other was hands down swooning over him. It had all started when he had rescued a cat from a tree, honouring a cliché he had not even been aware of. But someone who helped defenceless little kittens had to have a soft heart deep down, no?

Thor had brought him to Earth along with him after Asgard had been destroyed. He could not exactly be considered an Avenger but he had long surpassed the villain image… at least, to some extent. Well, you were no Avenger either. You used to be a SHIELD intern and then somehow ended up with the superheroes themselves. Apart from some basic fighting skills and the ability to use a gun, you had been trained to spend most of your time in front of a computer, often working twelve hours or even more a day. What did they say? Evil never sleeps.

“Any idea what might have caused this?” Bruce continued.

You shook your head. “No. But I’ve been having migraines and a persistent fatigue that just won’t go away.”

“I see… anything else?”

“Um…”

“You can talk to us, (Y/N).”

“Well, I… I’ve been dizzy a lot lately but that sometimes happens during my special week of the month so I didn’t think anything of it.” You took a deep breath but hesitated.

“And?”

“I’ve been sweating way more when working out. Like, a lot more. Instead of making progress… I feel like I’m getting weaker every day. It’s frustrating.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking a blood sample. FRIDAY will run a couple of tests on you to figure out what’s wrong.”

“What? No! Nothing’s wrong! We don’t need a b-blood sample.”

“No one faints for no reason, (Y/N), especially not on Loki.” Loki rolled his eyes but did not leave your side, even when Bruce started fiddling around with some gear and apparently, a first-aid kit and then approached you with a syringe and a small clear vial.

“I’ve done this a million times before, I’ll be gentle.”

“No! No, no blood test, Bruce, please!” Almost hysterically, you moved back on the bed, your heart in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” Loki suddenly said calmly. You shivered when he spoke your name, his head tilted slightly. “Are you afraid of needles?”

“N-n-no…” You lied. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Look at me.” He said. Hesitating only a little, you did as you were told. It wasn’t like his tone allowed any contradiction anyway. In fact, it reminded you a lot of his strict and bossy tone when he had caused chaos in Germany. “It has to be done. Hold my hand and do not take your eyes off of me.”

“Who are you and what you have done to Reindeer Games?” Tony tossed in, throwing the Trickster a suspicious glance. Loki rolled his eyes once more. As if he had any obligation to explain himself to Stark of all people.

In the meantime, you were panicking even more. Loki was being nice and considerate with you and Bruce was about to pierce your skin with a needle. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… your breathing sped up.

“Look. At. Me.” Loki repeated. You obeyed this time, allowing him to take your hand and press it gently. Much to your surprise, it immediately calmed you down a little. You gaped at him unbelievingly. You didn’t even feel the needle going into your skin and drawing blood. Wait… was he casting a spell on you?

“There. All done.” You could not bring yourself to look where Bruce brought your blood sample but when both Tony and he stepped away and turned their backs on you, you swallowed.

“T-thank you…” You had to ask—not because you did not think he was not capable of offering his help without seeking a personal advantage and not because you didn’t think he was too evil to even think about being selfless… but because you were genuinely curious about his motivation. Loki did nothing without a reason, he was always one step ahead. “You put a spell on me, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Why… why did you do that for me?”

“We are all afraid of something.” It was the only response he gave you. For a few moments, you merely sat there quietly, neither of you uttering a single word. Only when Bruce and Tony returned did you realise that Loki was still holding your hand.

“Okay… I’ve got the results from your blood test and FRIDAY couldn’t find anything suspicious.” Tony announced, scrolling on his tablet. Bruce adjusted his glasses to take a peek.

“You said you’ve been feeling tired? You sweat a lot, you get dizzy, and I’m presuming you barely have an appetite?”

“I don’t have time to eat a lot to be honest…” You confirmed.

“Any concentration problems?”

Pressing your lips together to a thin line, you thought about it for a moment. Now that he mentioned it… it had gotten obnoxiously hard to focus on your work lately. Eventually, you nodded.

“Sounds like severe exhaustion to me.” Bruce said. “Do you have issues with low blood pressure or diabetes or any other medical condition? No, FRIDAY would have found something like that. You know what I think? You overworked yourself.”

“Like… a burnout?” You probed.

“Most definitely.”

You grunted. Oh, that was just great. There you were, attempting to squeeze in regular workouts in this awesome training hall the Avengers called the HARM room after work to get stronger and hence, eventually gather up the courage to speak to Loki and now you looked exactly like what you did not want him to see you as—a weak and meagre human.

“The best medicine would be for you to quit work for a while and stop physical exercise altogether.”

“Banner is right,” Tony added. “Take a few weeks off and rest, sleep in, eat more and healthy… the whole program. I officially give you a holiday.”

“You’re not my boss, Tony, you can’t give me a holiday.” Your smile was weak. “But I don’t have time for this anyway! I can’t believe this is happening so soon before Christmas!” You whined. “I can’t stay in bed, I’ve got so much to do! I have to buy presents and decorate and bake biscuits and make gingerbread… Besides, I’m gonna fall behind on all the data.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take care of that. Let me talk to Fury. You let us know if you need anything. Can you take her to her room, Reindeer Games? And please, no funny business.” Beside you, Loki was just frowning, utterly ignoring the billionaire’s request.

“Why were you pushing yourself so hard?” He finally spoke when the two Avengers had left—whether it was genuine confusion or mere curiosity in his voice, you were not sure. “Why were you training for battle in the first place? I have never seen you out on a mission.”

You sighed. Time to let the cat out of the bag, it wasn’t like you were still going to make a good impression on him anymore now.

“I wanted to impress you, I guess…”

“Impress me?” Loki repeated incredulously.

“Yeah… catch your attention… in a way. I mean, part of me is still terrified of you, of course but… you have a good heart, Loki. I knew when I saw you rescuing that cat from the tree.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes. “I knew this was going to damage my reputation.” He responded with a sly smirk, making you grin. “It was an innocent kitten, what was I supposed to do?”

“See?”

Your heart skipped a beat when his blue eyes locked with yours. He appeared… uncertain; not used to dealing with affection. Loki swallowed.

“Can you walk?”

“I’m not sure…”

The God of Mischief sighed, his lips pressed together to a thin line. Without any hesitation, he snuck one of his arms under your knees and wrapped the other around your waist. He lifted you off the makeshift bed as if you weighed nothing—and to him, you probably didn’t.

Loki carried you to your room in utter silence and eventually lay you down in your bed. Your heart jumped when he sat down on the edge of the bed himself, with a peculiar interest in his hands so he would not have to look you in the eye.

“There is no need to impress me.” He suddenly said. Your head shot up. “I did not think anyone would even… never mind.”

Oh. It almost felt like you were finally getting to know each other, for real this time.

“Do you want to stay for a while? I was going to watch some Christmas movies if I’m not allowed to get out of bed.” You sighed. “I can’t even decorate. You have no idea how many decorations I have to put up. None of the others care to make it a little more festive here, especially not Fury.”

“Yes, I have seen the boxes.” Loki replied. “It’s a little… corny, wouldn’t you say?”

“Honestly, when living among superheroes who risk their lives every single day, you could use a little corny.”

“I see.” Loki simply waved his hand and before you knew it, your entire room was decorated. Green and red tinsel shimmered on your window sill, holiday lights were blinking above your door and fake—but incredibly real-looking—snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Many of your favourite decoration items were now sitting on your nightstand and your desk, including your tiny little Christmas tree. The rest of the decorations, so it seemed, Loki must have spread all over the Tower.

“Oh my Goodness… Loki, this is amazing!” The God of Mischief winked and when you looked down on yourself, you noticed you too were wearing a green and gold Christmas sweater. Heavens, you could kiss him. “Thank you so much! What did you… is the entire Tower…”

“Yes.” He confirmed. He didn’t have to. Tony did only a fraction of a second later.

“Thor! Can you tell me why my Ironman helmet just grew metal antlers? I swear to God, if Reindeer Games has something to do with this…” It was then you exploded with laughter despite your exhaustion.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[juniorgman187]

Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away.  Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere. 

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat. 

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for. 

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t. 

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her. 

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself. 

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went. 

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting. 

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her. 

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity. 

It was just plain concern. 

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case). 

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before. 

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.” 

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further. 

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation. 

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week. 

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month. 

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created. 

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother. 

And a damn good one at that. 

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception. 

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded. 

This would be our first flight without her. 

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.” 

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show. 

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered. 

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek. 

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes. 

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.” 

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits. 

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me. 

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly. 

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.” 

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant. 

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.” 

_ _ _

“Reid?” 

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought. 

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything. 

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her. 

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?” 

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.” 

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.” 

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence. 

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently. 

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone. 

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.” 

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it. 

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now. 

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia. 

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia. 

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave. 

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave. 

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.  

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!” 

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year. 

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained. 

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises. 

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever. 

taglist: @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @rexorangecouny​

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[dreamkidddream]

Helllo, I hope all is well, may you do Beel with scenario 3, thank you! I hope I’m not late to this!!

Beel is literally so sweet but can be so oblivious sometimes lmao but I still love him tho 🧡 reader is gender neutral!

Also this got kinda long my bad 😭

Prompt Scenario: “Person B hiding in a closet to jump out and surprise Person A, but Person A just keeps not going near the closet by chance.” with Beelzebub!

Today is the day.

After plenty of time spent planning, you’re going to surprise a demon: a demon who won’t accidentally kill you if they do get scared.

You’re going to surprise Beel.

You see, you just found out that you won two all you can eat vouchers for Ristorante Six through a bet with some classmates, and you knew how excited and beyond happy Beel would be if you invited him to come with you (since there is NO way you could eat all that food by yourself, and free food equals happy Beel, so it’s a win-win). So what better way to tell him than as a surprise? There was only one problem.

You have not seen Beel at all today. And you’ve been in the closet going on two hours.

You know that he doesn’t have anything planned today, you double checked with him before you sneaked in the closet! So why isn’t he here yet? You bet 100% that he’s stuffing his face as usual, but he would’ve texted you by now to see if you wanted to tag along! Or maybe he got so hungry again that he forgot-

You heard the door open and close.

You held your breath when you heard a growl echo in the room.

“Ah, I’m so hungry...”

Oh thank goodness, it’s just Beel and his empty hole of a stomach (you still forget how his stomach could sound just like Cerberus). Now’s your chance! You’ll wait till he inches towards the closet, then jump out with the tickets and yelling out “SURPRISE!” Should you throw your arms up? Should you try to jump into his arms? You know that he’ll catch you, his reflexes are scary good like that.

“Maybe I should use the emergency snack stash in the closet.”

Oh man now’s your chance! His steps are inching closer and closer to the door. Okay, on the count of three. One...two...THRE-

“No, that’s MC stash whenever they come over. I don’t want to eat it and then we can’t share anything...”

You can just see the frown forming on his face and him rubbing his hands together all nervous. “But maybe they won’t mind?”, he began making his way towards the closet again. You gripped the tickets tighter, mentally preparing yourself to launch-

“No, I better not. I don’t want to upset MC. It has some of their human snacks and they’ll be sad if I ate them all now. Maybe I should see if Belphie kept Madam Scream’s custard, I could always buy him another one later...oh I could buy one with MC! But where are they...”

Oh my DIAVOLO.

Out of all the times that Beel is being considerate with someone else’s food is the time that you don’t need him to be. Why does he have to be so caring and soft all the time?!

You are ready to pound your head against the wall.

You’re ready to give up and just open the door when it sounds like he’s...sniffing something? His stomach growl filled the air, and then he was stomping towards the closet, quicker than you could process it.

You practically screeched when the door was yanked open, Beel peering down at you with a hungry look in his eyes, which then turned to confusion, then cheerful. Here you are, fallen on your butt, the vouchers stuck on your sweaty palm, petrified.

“I thought I smelled you in here!”

“Smell...?”, it came out so small and you swear that you felt your voice crack. Oh this is embarrassing. Not only did the surprise fail, but now you stink!

He nodded, “I thought I was just smelling your snack stash, but you always smell really good, so it’s not hard to find you. And I have the best sense of smell in the house. But why are you hiding in the closet? Did you get hungry too?”

“No, I was trying to surprise you, but I failed,” you sighed out. You forgot how Beel can practically sniff out anything, being the Avatar of Gluttony and all, he had to have a good sense of taste and smell. Wait, he doesn’t know why you’re in here, so you could still-

“What’s that in your hand?”

He gasped and snatched your wrist, lifting you up as you squeaked. “Is that two all you can eat vouchers for Ristorante Six?! MC, how did you-“

So much for the surprise, huh?

You must’ve zoned out over your failure, because the next thing you knew, you were being tossed over Beel’s shoulder, staring at the ground in shock.

“MC, I’m hungry.”

You gulped.

“Wait can I atleast change first before you go?!”

“There’s no time to waste, we need to go. Now.”

“But Beel-“

Your cries were ignored as you both (or rather Beel) raced to the restaurant, you still being carried on his shoulder.

-

Lucifer is not a happy camper right now.

It’s past midnight, and he had to come out and personally apologize to the owner of Ristorante Six because his younger brother still doesn’t know how to control his raging appetite and his rage in general when he is being denied food. And also because of a certain human who thought that giving the Avatar of Gluttony an all you can eat voucher would fully satisfy his hunger.

You and Beel both see him tapping his fingers meticulously, no doubt deciding on some sort of punishment. But luckily (or rather unluckily), he’s too tired to think of something right now, but he rest assured that he will have something by tomorrow. So no chance of escaping punishments.

Well that sucks. You didn’t know that Beel would go to that far after they told him they couldn’t serve him anymore (but you couldn’t blame them, Beel ate literally everything, and they didn’t have enough food for the other diners. They were even starting to run out of water and bread, and you would have never thought that was possible). You should have known better that his appetite probably wouldn’t have been fully satiated, but you couldn’t help it when you saw how his face lit up once you were both there. You knew it was because of the food, but Beel swore that it tasted better because he was with you.

Either way, you’re fine getting in trouble if it meant to see Beel smiling, even if it wasn’t for long.

Bonus:

“MC, I’m sorry I got us in trouble.”

He’s giving you that puppy dog look, the look that’s hard to stay mad, that’s hard to be mad at. “It’s okay Beel, I’m not mad. I still had fun, and even though we aren’t exactly allowed back right now, it was worth it right? You still had fun, and that’s all that matters.”

He stopped you before you could say goodnight by grabbing your hands, gaze turning serious. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Beel it’s okay, I told you I’m not upset-“

“But I am. You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I messed it all up.” He was sulking, his shoulders beginning to slouch. “It won’t sit right with me.”

Then a genius idea came to you. This could be very beneficial for you both.

“I know how you can make it up to me.”

“You do?” His head shot up. “How?” His eyes practically begged you to tell him.

-

Lucifer was both shocked and amused at the sight he saw.

Here Beel was, cooking breakfast (human breakfast to be exact), without eating the food. When he went to question him what exactly brought this on (he was still getting punished, but if this attitude kept up it might not be as severe), Beel only said one thing.

“I’m making it up to MC.”

He then put the food on a tray (that was even adorned with a flower and was that fresh squeezed orange juice?!), and promptly left the kitchen. So the human got his brother who ate everything in sight to make breakfast for them and not eat a single piece?

You continue to surprise him at every turn.

-

“MC, are you up?”

The sight of you tangled in his covers, dressed in one of his old shirts, is a sight that he can get used to. When he heard you groan and mumble out something (maybe a good morning?), he brought the tray and put it on his nightstand. “I made you something, and don’t worry, I didn’t eat a single piece, but I was tempted to because it smells so good...”

“You can have some Beel.” You sat up, stretching and overlooking the tray. He wasn’t lying when he said that this smells good, because it’s making your mouth water.

“No, it’s your breakfast, and I ate a little bit of mine earlier. Besides, the coupon says that I can’t have a piece and we have to follow it.”

If you would have known making some homemade “Beel Favors” coupons at two in the morning would make him feel better and get you treatment like this, you would have done this a long time ago, with him and the other brothers. But Beel is such a sweetheart, and you would feel bad if you just took advantage of him.

“Now, say ‘ahh’.”

“Beel,” you started to chuckle, “you don’t have to feed me.”

“But I want to, and the coupon says that I have to so...please?”

You don’t have it in you to say no, so you open your mouth, even mimicking the sound, as he gently fed you.

You both knew that the coupon said the feeding part is optional, but who were you to deny such a face? And he said please too, so you couldn’t refuse him now!

If he kept this up, you might have to redeem your 10 free kisses coupon early. But you don’t think he’ll mind if you do.

If anything, he’ll make the kisses unlimited if it’s from you.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Room For Two | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  After a long weekend at the Denver Comic-Con, you were just looking for a quiet evening. That plan is out the window when all the planes are grounded at the airport and Tom arrives at your door. With no other rooms available in the city, Tom asks to share your room for the night. Just one problem, there is only a king bed in the room.

Warnings: fluff

-

“Finally.“

The hotel door slammed behind you as you let a sigh go. The past three days had been a whirlwind of panels, interviews, and autographs. It was only through multiple cups of coffee you were still standing. The Denver Comic-Con was the latest stop in the unending promotional tour.

You throw your shoes off and flopped onto the king bed in your room. You contemplate what to do first, a hot shower or order food as you massage your sore feet. The growl from your stomach decided for you and you lean towards the nightstand to pick up the phone.

“Room Service,” a cheery male voice answered as you hit the auto dial button.

“Hi, can I get the grass-fed burger, Caesar salad, and the Caprese pizza, please?”

“Charged to Room 1415?”

“Yes, please.”

“It will be 30 to 40 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You hung up the phone and allow your head to sink into the pillows. You seriously contemplated falling asleep right now and hope you wake up when room service knocks. But you decided to wash the layer of the day off your body.

As you head to the bathroom, you shed your clothes piece by piece, tossing them on the floor along your way. You make a mental note to make sure you pick it up before room service gets there. You flicked the shower water on and turned it up as hot as tolerable. Once the water warmed up, you stepped in and let the near scalding water pour over your body. The tension left your shoulders and neck and the grime of the day, both literal and figurative, washed away. You wanted to stay under that hot water for an eternity but after about ten minutes you turned the water off and stepped into a fluffy bathrobe. As you exited the bathroom, you got an insistent knock on the door.

“That can’t possible be room service,” you muttered as you look through the peephole.

Instead of your food, you see a lanky ginger-haired gentleman rocking from side to side in front of your door.

“Tom?” you questioned as you open the door.

Tom turned on that smile.

“I hope I am not interrupting your evening. Do you mind if I come in for a minute?”

“Yes, come on in,” you stepped aside to allow him entry to the room. You noticed he was carrying a small duffel bag with him. “I thought you were flying out tonight.”

He pivoted around to face you.

“Funny thing. They grounded the flights. Someone thought flying drones in the air space was a good idea. After four hours, they sent everyone away.”

“Didn’t that same thing happen at Heathrow in December?”

“The same thing. They are calling it a copycat.”

“I am so sorry. If I can help, just say the word,” you commented as you turn to let him out the door. Tom does not follow.

“Well, that is the other funny thing. Because of the comic-con and the big education convention, there is not a spare room in the entire city.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“I am serious. Not even my original room was available. I thought about sleeping at the airport when I remembered you were staying a few days…”

Your eyes widened, realizing what Tom was asking.

“You want to stay… HERE?!”

Tom looked at the ground, scuffling his feet on the carpet.

“If you don’t mind.”

You looked to the single king bed in the room. Tom followed your gaze and then both of your faces reddened.

“I could sleep in the chair.” Tom gestured towards the armchair in the corner.

It was at least half his size and looked uncomfortable.

“No, that is not fair… We can…”

A knock interrupted your thought.

“SHIT!” you hissed as you pulled the bathrobe around your body, “that is room service.”

Tom held up his hands.

“I will handle it. Why don’t you go into the bathroom and make yourself decent?”

He made the last remark with a slight smirk on his face as his eyes raked over your still robed body. You throw him a dirty look as you grabbed your pajamas and shut the bathroom door.

Tom thanked the person who brought the food as you pulled a comic book t-shirt and well-worn pajama pants.

“Were you expecting company?” Tom yelled through the bathroom door.

You remembered your hunger induced over ordering.

“Are you judging me?” you retorted as you opened the door, smiling.

“Nope. I have always appreciated people with a healthy appetite. I must admit I am famished myself. Airport food is not my favorite.”

You suppressed a giggle as Tom eyed the burger. You gestured for him to dig in. Tom dug into the burger without a second thought and moans of satisfaction escaped his lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” you mumbled as you shove a forkful of salad in your own mouth, “I also appreciate a man with a joy for food, even such a high esteemed actor as yourself.”

Tom rolled his eyes. This was an ongoing joke between you two throughout filming. You mention his fame and him shutting you down every time.

“Please. None of that tonight. I am far too hungry and weary to fight you off.”

“Fair enough.”

***

The two of you eat the rest of the food in relative silence. Tom regal the tale of his ill-fated trip to the Denver airport and you shared crazy fan stories from the con. After every morsel and you bellies were full, the matter of sleeping arrangements came up once.

“So…” Tom started, looking once again towards the bed. “I am taking the chair.”

Your face once again reddened. You screwed up your courage to be an adult rather a hormone raging teenager.

“No, that is silly. You are like twice the size of that chair and it looks uncomfortable,” you wrinkled your nose, “Plus it is not like you and I have never shared a bed before.”

Tom had been a perfect gentleman and did everything in his power to make you comfortable during your first ever love scene. At the end of the day, the scene had made the film a hit. After that, you harbored a crush on the dashing Tom Hiddleston.

“True. So sharing the bed.”

You swallowed and nodded your head as if solidify your decision.

“Yep,” you get up and move the empty dishes to the door, “do you need to use the shower? You are more than welcome to use any of my toiletries. I promise there is nothing too girly smelling in there.”

“Thank you.”

Tom headed into the bathroom, taking his bag with him and the shower started soon after. You attempted to contain the mess of clothes on the bed. Not that it mattered.

You shoved all the clothes into the drawers and when the water stopped, you jumped underneath the covers. Tom strolled out. His shaggy locks were wet, and he was wearing pajama bottoms with a plain white tee. You could smell your soap wafting off of him. It was intoxicating.

“I took the right side. Is okay?” you commented, while playing with the edge of the sheet.

Tom laughed. “It’s fine, it is your room and I am the interloper.”

Tom slid into the bed on the left side and adjusted the pillows behind him.

“Would you like to watch a movie or something?” you picked up the remote.

“No thanks, darling. I am tired from the day. I bet you must be too. This is your first comic-con circuit, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I am tired too,” you lied.

You leaned over and switched off the light and plunged the room into darkness. You settled yourself into a night of sleeping. You arranged the pillows behind your head and then took one of the extra pillows and tucked off to one side to lie on. You turned towards Tom’s side to see him propped up on an elbow, taking in your sleep ritual.

“What in earth are you doing, Y/N?”

“I am getting ready for bed. What are you doing?”

“Watching you getting ready for bed. Do you always hug a pillow while sleeping?”

You made out a hint of a smile on his face.

“It is not hugging, it is for support,” you huffed down and wrap your arms around the pillow.

“For emotional support?” Tom countered.

“No.” you said, “I thought you were tired.”

“I am. But I am not too tired to watch this ritual. It is adorable. If you need to snuggle something, I am available.”

You reached over and smacked Tom in the chest.

“You are incorrigible. I’m fine. Go.. to.. sleep, Tom.”

“Suit yourself.”

Your sleep was fitful that night, tossing and turning all night. Around midnight, you threw the pillow to the ground and the comforter off your feet. Tom breathed heavy next to you. Tempted to elbow him in the ribs and wake him,  you decided against it.

***

You woke the next morning to something warm and solid pressed up against the entire back side of your body. You attempted to roll over, but you realized something pinned your legs to the mattress. Craning your neck around, you see Tom pressed up against your back and his legs intertwined with yours.

Tom’s body was radiating heat, and you snuggled close to his body. You could feel his breath on your neck and you sighed to yourself.

If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

As you continued to sink into his body, you inadvertently ground your ass into Tom’s crotch. You feel his erection through his thin pajama pants. Not even the great Tom Hiddleston was immune to morning wood. A soft moan escaped Tom’s lips, and he reached around your waist, pulling you in closer. Tom’s chin nuzzled into the crook on your neck and his hot breath tickled your skin.

You tried to extract yourself from his grip but only turned yourself around and now you were face to face with a sleeping Tom. His long lashes threatened to touch his cheeks and you let a sigh out at the sight of him.

Damn, why does he have to be so handsome!

The change of position caused Tom to stir and you see his eyes flutter open. With sleepy eyes, Tom noticed the space, or lack thereof, between the two of you and smirked.

“Morning, darling.”

“Morning, Tom.”

“I see you abandoned your pillow and went for something more satisfying.”

You scoffed, attempting to pull away from his grip but not trying too hard.

“I woke up with you wrapped around me. Perhaps you have a crush on me,” you joked.

Tom looked you dead in the eye.

“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I have been hiding away a secret torch for you since you first walked onto set. And perhaps I fear you would not reciprocate my feelings.”

You lied there in disbelief. Was Tom confessing his affections towards you? You didn’t know how to react.

“Perhaps you are wrong.” you parroted him, “Perhaps I would reciprocate your feelings. Perhaps I have been hiding a secret crush for you since the day of that bedroom scene.”

You looked up at him, again attempting to wriggle away. This time with more effort. Tom yanked you forward until the two of you were chest to chest.

“Perhaps I will just kiss you and see what happens.”

You opened your mouth to come back with a snappy comment but Tom leaned in and his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you had imagined, but better. A warmth flowed through your body and you snaked your arms around Tom’s neck and pulled him closer.  The two of you parted, breathing heavy.

“Wow,” Tom smiled with pride, “your breath smells.”

Both of you burst out into laughing.

“Your breath isn’t minty fresh either, darling,” Tom placed a quick peck on your lips. “Let’s get up, get dressed, and head downstairs for breakfast, Y/N.”

“Okay but you get ready first. I am not ready to get up.”

“Fair enough.”

Tom bounded out of bed and rustled through his bag before finding clean clothes. Just as he reached the bathroom door, his phone buzzed.

“Do you mind checking that, darling?”

You nodded, and he disappeared into the bathroom.

You picked up the phone and saw a text from Luke.

Tom?! Where are you? You didn’t answer your phone last night. It took some persuading, but I got your suite back at the Hyatt. Please call me back. I hope you didn’t end up sleeping in the airport.

That little liar! Tom had manipulated you to spend the night. What a sneak! Your initial anger gave way to mischief and joy. If not for Tom’s little subterfuge, the two of you may have never gotten together. Still, you couldn’t let him get away with his little scheme scot-free.

You seated yourself at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and his phone in your hand. Tom came out in jeans and a shirt, a toothbrush in his mouth. He looked at you confused.

“Who was it?” he questioned, taking his toothbrush out of his mouth.

You smirked, “Oh just Luke.”

“What did he want, love,” he came over and placed a minty kiss on your forehead, “everything all right?”

“Yeah,” you wiped the remnants of toothpaste off your face, “he was just worried you slept in the airport, instead of your old suite in the hotel.”

Tom’s smile fell from his face.

“I can explain…”

You stood up and walked until you were toe to toe.

“Oh? And what is your explanation for lying about your sleeping arrangements?”

You suppressed a smirk and giggle and you can see Tom scrambling to come up with the right words.

“Well..” Tom held his hands up in defense and then sighed, shoulders slumping, “I couldn’t think of any other way to get you into bed with me.”

His blue eyes sparkled back you, hopeful. You let a Cheshire cat grin spread across your face and you pulled up onto your toes to place a kiss on his lips.

“You are lucky you are so charming, otherwise I might be more mad. Besides, we need to discuss this.” you waved your hands between the two of you.

“We are?”

“Yes. Now excuse me but I have to get dressed…”

Tom settled onto the bed as though you would strip off your pajamas right in front of him.

“… in the bathroom.”

Tom’s face fell.

“You wound me.”

“You lied.” “I promise I will never make that mistake again, darling.”

“Good, now call Luke back while I get dressed.”

You closed the door and got ready. Tom dialed in Luke’s number.

“I’m fine, Luke. I promise. No, I didn’t end sleeping in the airport; I stayed with a friend. No, a female friend. Yes it is her, if you must know. Yes, Luke. I understand. Oh by the way, I will spend a few days in Denver, clear my schedule.”

Tom could hear Luke grumbling through the conversation. He couldn’t resist send him into a tailspin before re-engaging in radio silence.

“Oh and Luke, if you hear any rumors about me, they are true. The photos too.”

With that, he turned his phone off. The next few days were for you and you alone.

[whumpmatsus]

Hmm could do one where one one of boys has rough day, that leads to emotional overeating, and bellyache that they try to hide until they can't. Please and thank.

aaaaaa, lovely!

I went with Totty because it feels like I haven't written him in a while

and there's a tiny bit of Allmatsu, buuuut really it's mostly Cybermatsu :D

hope you like it, I had a lot of fun with it!

-

Most of the time, Totty thinks he does a pretty good job being composed at work.

However, that’s easy to do when the majority of the days are okay. Sometimes there’s a bad moment or two that he can recover from by the time he gets home; never before has it been an entire day full of nothing but bad moments.

Until today, of course.

It’s just been one awful thing after another. One of his brothers accidentally turned off the alarm clock, probably by hitting it or steadying themself against it while going to the bathroom… so he was late to work. When he finally got behind the register, there was already a decent-sized line and the early morning customers were irritable before their coffee. Nearly every single customer during his shift snapped at him in some way even when he was trying to be helpful.

His coworkers were less than pleasant, especially after a couple hours when one of them had to take over for him because he had to go pee. To make things worse, toward the end of the day he managed to smash his fingers in the cash drawer while closing it.

The highlight of the day was when he was on his way out and a customer wanted help. Company policy being that he wasn’t allowed to work in any way while he was off the clock, he told them he was actually heading home and pointed to one of his coworkers. Which apparently wasn’t good enough, as he was accused of being lazy and not wanting to do his job and told that the customer was going to talk to his manager and have him fired.

Is it any wonder he’s spent almost the whole train ride home in tears? It hasn’t been a great day to be Matsuno Todomatsu.

He feels a little better by the time he gets home, but he’s exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that went wrong. Part of him wants to find one of his brothers and bitch his heart out. The other part just wants to shove food into his mouth and pretend none of it ever happened.

Sutabaa allows employees to eat some of the cheap things for free during their break, which Totty doesn’t often take advantage of. He’d rather have a snack at home so he doesn’t have to scarf it down in ten minutes. Today, though, he managed to put away a chocolate croissant plus a couple of cookies, so he shouldn’t be hungry at all when he gets home.

And he’s not… really hungry. He just wants to eat something for the sake of it, so that maybe eating something tasty will make it seem like nothing went wrong today. The food during his break made things seem better for a minute while he ate it. All he wants is more of that feeling, to make believe it wasn’t such a bad day.

He doesn’t know where any of his brothers are, and he doesn’t particularly care. He doesn’t think he’d give half a shit if one of them walked in on him raiding the fridge and pantry as if he’s preparing to hibernate through the winter. They all stuff their faces at any available opportunity, so why would it be surprising to find him doing it, especially after a long day at work which none of the rest of them do?

It doesn’t even really matter to him what he’s eating, either. Just things that don’t require too much time between being in his hand and sliding down his throat.

There’s about a portion’s worth of takoyaki left in the fridge from dinner last night, so he finishes that off. Some daifukumochi that was in the cabinet, along with a packet of konpeitō. A bag of arare disappears pretty quickly, too. He doesn’t really know if the imagawayaki that was sitting on the counter was left for him or if it was a single treat that nobody had fought over yet ― regardless, he eats it anyway.

Each bite is a violent attempt to deny the shittiness of this whole day. It all tastes delicious, so he can lose himself inside it for a moment. What never really occurs to him is that every moment doesn’t last too long, and even though his stomach isn’t built for this kind of eating, he’s reaching for another snack as soon as the last one has dissolved on his tongue.

He throws packaging away as he goes, just to keep things neat. He’s just biting into his latest snack when someone else walks into the kitchen, and looking up, it turns out to be Choromatsu.

“O-oh, hey, Totty, you’re home. How was work?” He starts ducking into the refrigerator, then suddenly straightens up and gives his youngest brother a curious look. “… Uh. That’s my Big Katsu. Why are you eating it??”

Given that his teeth are currently sunk into it, Totty feels a little guilty. So at least he doesn’t have to fake the expression on his face. “Oh… sorry, Choro-nii-san! I’m just really hungry… I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

After a moment, Choromatsu sighs, evidently deciding to let Totty off the hook rather than fight with him about it. “Yeah, that’s fine. I was saving it, but if I haven’t craved it this long, I can wait. There’s other stuff I can have for a snack.” He opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a single mini carton of milk, then frowns. “Hey, wasn’t there some leftover takoyaki in here?”

He huffs as he closes the fridge. “Dammit. Osomatsu probably ate the rest of it while I wasn’t paying attention, the douche.”

He shakes his head and gets in the pantry for a bag of potato chips instead. “Guess these’ll do till dinner. Hey, Totty, you’re probably still hungry, right? Why don’t you share with me? I’m not starving or anything… half a bag would do it for me, I think.”

Totty’s stomach twinges suddenly, alerting him that he may have eaten too much. He’s not used to shoveling down this much at one time, though the realization that he’s uncomfortably full doesn’t stop him from hurriedly cramming the rest of the Big Katsu into his mouth.

And, honestly, it’s not like he can say no to the offer. He just told his big brother he was hungry and he’s been gulping down food at an insatiable pace. Thinking about the taste of potato chips sort of makes him want some.

Plus… Choromatsu is being nice by sharing, despite the fact that Totty already took one of his snacks without even asking. It would be mean to turn that down when he’s just trying to make sure Totty gets fed properly.

So he plasters a smile on and tosses the wrapper before stepping toward his older brother. Everything’s fine. “Ah, yeah… sounds good.”

-

Everything is not fine.

Dinner is beginning to be a struggle to get through. Totty hates wasting the food, but his thought is to put it away for later when his stomach isn’t actively trying to kill him. The pain is different to anything he’s ever experienced, a feeling like he’s full all the way up to his chest and so can’t get a decent breath in. He feels cold and clammy even though he knows he’s sweating. In short, it sucks.

The one thing he counted on was his brothers not noticing that he wasn’t eating anything. After sharing the chips with Choromatsu, he started to feel like he was going to burst. Even though the sensation quieted down a little bit, it never quite went away.

Now that he’s been faced with a table full of food, it’s even worse. His stomach is gurgling and swirling and nothing helps. Not taking deep breaths through his nose, not taking tiny sips of his tea, not focusing on any other thoughts. Nothing. It’s all useless. He thinks that as soon as dinner is over, he’s gonna have to go throw up. No ifs, ands, or buts; one way or another, he’s gonna be sick.

His only hope now is that he can ride it out long enough for everyone to head their separate ways so he doesn’t have to face the humiliation of admitting that he ate too much and hurt his stomach.

“U-uh, Totty,” Choromatsu speaks up suddenly, “aren’t you gonna eat anything? You were hungry enough to eat my Big Katsu earlier, I’d have thought you were really looking forward to dinner.”

Ugh. Did he have to???

Totty forces a smile onto his face. “Oh, yeah, I… I guess I’m just not in the mood for this stuff tonight, you know?”

The look on Osomatsu’s face could be mistaken for someone who’d just swallowed a lemon. “What?! But Totty, this is your favorite! You’re not gonna eat any of it? You can’t just skip meals like that, dude.”

“Yeah,” Ichimatsu hums thoughtfully. “You’re not gonna be any more healthy or attractive if you’re starving, you know.”

Geez. His brothers are so fucking embarrassing. Choromatsu is giving him some backhanded concern, Osomatsu is overzealous as usual, and Ichimatsu sounds like a Goddamn after-school special.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is scrutinizing him just the same. “Yes, Totty, my brother… you look rather pale. You really should eat something!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Jyushimatsu practically launches himself over the table, holding a bite of food from his own plate between chopsticks toward his little brother’s mouth. “Here! Winding up for the pitch… batter uuuuuup!”

“Ughhhhh!” Totty leans back, even though any movement unsettles his stomach further. “You guys are ridiculous! I’m fine! W-what, am I not allowed to have just lost my appetite without every single one of my big brothers making a federal case of it?!”

All the others share a silent look, then there comes a unanimous, “Nope.”

He groans and leans his arm against the table. Shit, it’s getting worse. All he wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke, so that maybe he’ll actually feel better. If he does that, though, everyone will be on his case about how much he ate instead of how little he’s eating right now. He doesn’t need nor want a lecture.

Actually, what he wants more than anything is to just be taken care of and told that it’s okay, he screwed up a bit, it’s not the end of the world. That would require confessing to this stupid mistake, though… and he really doesn’t want to do that. He’s so sure that if he does, he’s just going to get scolded instead of comforted.

When he looks around the table again, he notices that Choromatsu in particular looks worried. “C’mon, Totty. You know we care about you. Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are right; it’s not healthy to skip meals.”

“Dammit, I know that, Fappymatsu! Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Totty scowls down at the food before lifting his eyes back up. “If I take one bite, will you all get off my back?”

He hates that those words just came out of his mouth. Even if it’s just a single bite, he doesn’t think his stomach will be happy with him. The idea of eating anything isn’t sitting well with him.

What else can he do, though? Just like with literally everything else, his brothers won’t stop bugging him until he caves in and does whatever they want.

The others exchange a look and Osomatsu shrugs. “Yeah, that should do it! Maybe after you take a bite you’ll realize how good it is and how hungry you are.”

Shit. Well, now he doesn’t really have a way out.

He takes as deep a breath as he feels he can, and collects a bite of food with his chopsticks. Although he isn’t sure how noticeable it is, it feels like his hand is shaking as he raises it to his lips.

Maybe it’s better to do it fast and get it over with. So, that’s what he does. The food in his chopsticks disappears in rapid time, and even though it feels like swallowing a spoonful of glue, he manages to get it down.

“Th-there,” he announces as he slams his chopsticks down. A hiccup squeaks out of him, followed by a fist pressed to his mouth, then he glares around the table at his brothers. “Ha… happy now? God, you guys are… you’re such… such…”

His stomach roils aggressively, almost like he’s just been punched in the gut. He cuts himself off with a loud, painful belch… and whines softly, because he knows what’s coming next. There’s no possible way he can stop it, nor can he get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom.

He tries to clap his other hand over his mouth in some childish belief that if he just blocks the exit, so to speak, he won’t be sick. Predictably, it doesn’t work.

Only a second and a couple of retches later, Totty has vomited through his hands into his lap. It’s perhaps more than a little ironic that his attempt to avoid lectures and feeling shameful has led to something incredibly humiliating.

The tears well up almost immediately, and it doesn’t take long for him to be sitting here coughing, not quite knowing what to do except cry.

“A-ah, Totty!!” Someone’s up from their seat, grabbing him gently by the shoulders. It sounds like Choromatsu, he thinks. “Hey… hey, it’s okay. O-oh, no, no, guys, it’s okay ― yeah, Mom, Dad, it’s fine, I-I’ve got him. Totty, hey, c’mon. I’m gonna help you to the bathroom and we’ll get you cleaned up. Okay?”

All he can do is nod, and it seems like even the fact that he leans against Choromatsu, all streaked with puke, doesn’t bother his brother.

It’s a short walk to the bathroom. He thinks he hears one of the others getting up to clean whatever mess he’s left behind. He just concerns himself with getting into the bathroom, then with lifting his arms when told so Choromatsu can help peel the soiled clothes off.

“It’s okay, Totty. E-everything’s alright.” His voice is low and gentle as he manages to also get Totty’s pants off, hanging everything over the side of the bathtub. If he’s lucky, one of the others will come rinse them off so they can go right in the wash while he tries to take care of getting Totty situated on the couch or something. “I’m gonna take care of you. You just cry as much as you need to, as long as you cooperate with me, okay?”

Totty sniffles, doing his best to stop crying. This is so embarrassing. “O-okay…”

Eventually the crying tapers off a bit, to the point that he can breathe normally again. His mouth has a bad taste and his throat hurts; at least his stomach feels a lot better, though. He’s just so mortified that he threw up on himself in front of his entire family after trying to save himself from this fate.

What did you think was gonna happen when you ate something else after already being stuffed and nauseous, dummy?? His mind is exactly no help at all, unfortunately.

Choromatsu is careful as he tries to get his little brother cleaned. As soon as all his dirty clothes are off, he wipes a wet cloth over Totty’s mouth to wash off any remnants of vomit and helps Totty wash his hands in the sink. He holds a couple pieces of toilet paper over Totty’s nose so he can blow, which makes him feel slightly less gross.

Once there’s no more danger of new clothes having leftover puke dripped on them, he darts out to the closet in the other room and comes back with a pair of Totty’s pajamas. It feels somuch better to be in fresh clothes after Choromatsu gingerly tugs them on.

With all of that done, Choromatsu sets a hand against Totty’s forehead and gives a contemplative hum. “Well, you don’t feel warm… you might still be coming down with something, though. I think maybe you should just go right to bed. We’ll get you settled on the couch in the other room so that hopefully the rest of us don’t catch it, and I’ll get you some ginger ale or something, okay?”

The idea of all that sounds nice, sure. He feels a little guilty for not being honest, however, so… “Um, Choromatsu-nii-san… I-I’m not… I’m not sick. I… I think I ate too much today, and… that bite I took out there was just kind of… th-the last straw, you know?”

Choromatsu frowns. “You ate too much? You said you were really hungry when you got home. And all I remember seeing you eat was my Big Katsu and some of the chips.”

“I ate a lot more than that,” he confesses, rubbing at his teary eyes. “There was some stuff I had while I was at work, a-and… and I was the one who ate the last of the takoyaki. I was just going through the fridge and the cupboards for a while before you walked in.”

“Oh… okay, I get that. Why didn’t you just tell us you overate today instead of forcing yourself to eat?”

More tears bubble up and start rolling down his cheeks. “B-because… because I thought if I did, you’d all just lecture me and tell me, ‘Oh, you shouldn’t do that, Totty!’ The day was so bad already…”

The more he talks, the more tears fall. “It was just one thing a-after another! Work was shitty, everything that could go wrong did,and I didn’t want you guys harping on me! I-I know I fucked up eating a lot, but doing it just… made me feel better for a minute… like the day wasn’t so crappy, like I could pretend everything was okay because I was eating something good. So I just… d-didn’t wanna tell you guys… I-I know you’d say it’s bad for me…”

Quietly, Choromatsu pulls Totty up off the toilet and into a hug. His hand rubs calmingly between his little brother’s shoulder blades, shortly after switching to a series of pats. “Hey, you learned your lesson. I know you think we’d give you some big speech… and maybe you’re not wrong. But I’m sorry it felt like you had to hide it and suffer on your own. That’s not what we want! We just wanna take care of you. If we lecture like that, it’s just because we love you.”

“I-I know,” Totty mumbles into Choromatsu’s shoulder. “Are you… are you mad at me? For doing it in the first place and for not telling you?”

“Mad? No! No, no, no way. I’m not mad!” Choromatsu presses a brief kiss to the top of Totty’s head. “You’re my baby brother. How could I be mad at you for this? Just… you know… next time, come talk to us instead of going to the food. I’d rather listen to you complain for hours than have you eat yourself sick.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, somewhat reassured when Totty squeezes back. They stay like this for a few minutes, with Totty burying his face against Choromatsu’s shoulder and Choromatsu rubbing Totty’s back.

Finally Choromatsu lets out a sigh. “Just so you know… even if we lecture you a little, we’ll still try to take care of you if there’s anything we can do. But we’ll… also do our best not to lecture as much when you come to us. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah… it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” He mirrors the sigh and just sinks into his big brother’s embrace. “Can I still go lie down, though? In the futon?”

Choromatsu nods and pulls Totty up when he gets to his feet. “Yeah, of course. That’s probably a good idea even though you’re not really sick.”

“And… can I still have some ginger ale?”

“Yeah, I’ll get that for you after we get you settled.”

Totty is silent for a few seconds while they walk down the hall, then he speaks up again. “… Will you maybe stay and cuddle with me for a minute, too? Even though I’m not sick?”

Choromatsu glances down before chuckling. Does he really think he has to tack on that condition, as if Choromatsu won’t cuddle just because Totty isn’t actually sick? “I… o-of course, Totty. All you have to do is ask, even if you’re not sick.”

“Okay…” By this time they’ve reached the bedroom, so he stands aside while Choromatsu unrolls the futon. Before too long he’s lying down, and Choromatsu has both arms around him, gently stroking his hair.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles against his brother. “Thank you… you’re the best nii-chan ever.”

He can feel Choromatsu grinning. “Am I even better than leftover takoyaki?”

Totty pouts at the jab, but snuggles closer regardless. “Way better.”

[leelysian]

Unwell

genre: slight angst with fluff ending, implied crush au, one shot

pairing: female reader x best friend!Minho

word count: 1.4k

context: you're terribly sick, you haven't told anyone but your best friend somehow knew something was wrong when you wouldn't reply to his numerous texts.

A/N: this may or may not have turned into a rant because I was sick for the past few days akskakdksks

Seasonal flus were the worst. Slightly chilly from hot or slightly warm from cold and suddenly your body decides, “You know what? I don’t vibe with this weather. I’ma just break down.” You had a mild fever and a cold. While the fever was mild, it was annoying because you weren’t sick enough to just pass out for hours and having a cold meant your nose either:

Dried up like the Sahara which ended up burning your sinuses and it felt like your skull was on fire.

Got blocked like the path between the North and South Korea; nothing got in or out which meant breathing through your mouth which also dried up.

Runny like the Amazon river, there’s crumples of tissue paper all over your floor. Your nose was red, rough and raw from blowing so much, the delicate skin was irritated.

Here you were, slumped on your bed with the covers on top of you but a leg and an arm sticking out because it got too hot to be fully under the covers and too cold to be fully without. Sleep eluded you the previous night, you just couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t gonna happen. Somehow you’d fall asleep only to wake up a little while later, and end up tossing and turning in your bed. Because you were unsuccessful in your attempts to get a good night’s rest, you woke up with a pounding headache from your eyelids to the back of your head. Your whole body ached.

Leftovers in your fridge were finished so you forced yourself to get up and heat some instant noodles to eat with your meds. Water tasted bitter. Your appetite vanished. Eating was agonising because afterwards you felt suffocated, an invisible pressure on your torso prevented you from breathing fully, your lungs not taking in air fully so your breaths were short. Hell, peeing was a chore. At least you weren’t on your period, maybe if that happened, you’d actually die. Imagine having to frequently change pads/tampons and underwear while feeling like you got ran over by a truck. Were you overreacting? Maybe. But it was allowed at this point.

So in short, you were suffering since the past two days. You were absolutely miserable. You wanted to cry but crying meant your nose getting runny then eventually blocked and then a headache so you sucked it up. You brought a hand to your head to massage your head because it hurt, grimacing by the tangles and the grease. You reached for your phone, unlocked to see various social media notifications which you cleared and messages from your friends which you also elected to ignore and reply to later. Playing a playlist with slow music with medium volume and dropped it back on the bed, you closed your eyes and let the soft melodies flow into your ears in hopes of helping you forget about your headache once again. This is how you held on to your last shred of sanity but you failed to hold on to your consciousness and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

You woke up to a cold compress on your forehead, your room clutter and mess free, the windows open and something nice smelling. You thought you were dreaming when a face you know all too well walked into your bedroom with a bowl. “Minho? what are you doing here? Get out. I’m sick, you’ll get sick too.” you rasped. “Well, about time you acknowledged my existence, even if it’s to tell me to get out. I should’ve been here earlier, maybe it would’ve been helpful if you told me you were dying in your pigsty of a room.” he snapped. He put the bowl on your nightstand, you realised it was water, he was probably going to replace the cold compress. 

“You look terrible.” he said. “Gee, thanks.” you retorted. “You need a shower.” he advised. “Nooooo.” you whined and snuggled further into the covers. “Come on, y/n, there’s no way you’ll get better if you feel disgusting. I’ll help.” He said and snatched the blankets. “Minho, stop. You’ll get my germs.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it now come on.” he said and helped you sit up then suddenly with strength you didn’t know he had he carried you princess style to the bathroom and you yelped. “Jeez y/n you’ve lost so much weight.” he tsked. “Do you think you can wash your hair on your own?” he asked as he sat you down on the counter. “I’ll be okay.” you replied tiredly. “If you need help, just ask.” he said and adjusted the water temperature in the shower then left.

You took your time showering, the first five minutes just standing under the warm water which opened up your sinuses, having the steady stream of water beat down over your back and easing your sore muscles. You washed your hair slowly, so as not to tire your arms out. Stepping out of the shower, you felt immensely better, finally able to breathe a bit easier. Drying off, you wore your fluffy bathrobe and walked out to see a big shirt (one you ‘borrowed’ from Minho) and pajama shorts laid out on the bed. Thankfully, he didn’t lay out underwear for you. You dressed up and got settled back in bed, already tired again.

You unlocked your phone and saw the concerned texts from Minho because you weren’t answering them or his calls and felt guilty. A knock resounded from your door, “come in.” you said and Minho walked in with a tray. “Well well, finally I see y/n and not a corpse.” he teased. Whatever was on that tray smelled heavenly and your stomach rumbled. He put the tray down on your lap and he brought the back of his hand to your neck to check your temperature. “Hm, your fever has probably gone down but I think it’ll be back.” he notes. The whole time you stared at him. “Hey. I’m sorry I ignored your texts.” you said and twiddled with your thumbs, the guilt unbearable. He took your hands in his own, “It’s fine. I’m sorry for snapping. I was just worried and scared. I thought you actually died at first glance and I panicked.” 

He turned to the tray and lifted the lid from the bowl, “It’s chicken rice porridge. Eat up and take your meds.” Your eyes were still downcast, “I can’t I feel horrible afterwards.” and you explained in detail. “It’s probably acidity, clearly you’ve been eating junk and it’s not sitting well in your stomach. This won’t cause you discomfort. At least eat a little bit. Please? For me? I made this for you.” he said and used the signature kitty eyes. You looked up and he’s already holding a spoonful of the warm concoction. You hated when he pulled the look on you, you could never say no to those eyes but then again you didn’t want to because that porridge looked pretty darn appetising. You opened your mouth and Minho fed you the gloopy goodness. 

You could’ve just eaten yourself but you quite liked being pampered so you said nothing. Minho carefully spoon fed you the whole bowl, blowing delicately on the first couple of spoonfuls until the rest became tepid. Halfway through the bowl you felt full so you told him you didn’t want to eat anymore but he pulled the kitty eyes again, and now you’re stuffed. He handed you the glass of water and meds which you gulped down and went to clean up. He came back and stood awkwardly in your doorway. “You’re leaving already?” you asked sadly. “Do you want me to?” he asked back. “No grab my laptop and come watch Spirited Away with me.” you pouted. He smiled, got the laptop from your desk, grabbed one of the sweatpants he left from previous times he’s been to your place to change into, and then settled in bed next to you under the covers. 

You took one of your many pillows and settled your laptop on it and settled back. “Hey, Minho?” you called. “Hm?” he enquired. “Thanks for taking care of me.” you smiled softly. He was going to say something snarky but decided against it and said, “It's alright.” About half an hour into the movie he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and he looked bewildered to see you’ve fallen asleep on him, breathing softly. He turned off the laptop and placed it on the ground before wrapping his arms around you, placing your head over his chest and reclining back. He looked at your sleeping face with soft, adoring eyes and a gentle smile. He gently rubbed your back with one hand when suddenly you stirred and threw your arm over his stomach. Slowly, he too, drifted off to sleep with dreams of you and him together.

[egcdeath]

cabin fever

pairing: ransom x female!reader 

warnings: very cheesy and unrealistic. lots of fluff, your teeth might fall out. strangers to lovers

summary: when a nasty snow storm ruins your girls trip to a ski lodge, you have to... adapt to your interesting new roommate. 

word count: 2.7k

a/n: and there was only one bed…. oh my god there was only one bed…. 

Come on, they said. A girls trip would be fun, they said. You all needed a break from your routine and work, they said. Who doesn’t wanna kick off their New Year on vacation, they said. Of course, that was all before you arrived at a remote, overbooked resort in the middle of nowhere, hours after your friends’ flights had been cancelled due to an incoming horrendous snow storm.

Now, you stood near the counter in the lobby, biting back tears as you began to desperately rake your brain for solutions to the bizarre issue you were facing.

“God damnit, don’t you know who I am?” a deep voice at the desk thundered.

“Of course, Mr. Drysdale, but you know that we can’t just give this room up to you in conditions like this,” the poor hotel employee told him, trying to keep his composure. “We have way too many clients for you to get a room like this all by yourself!” After hearing this remark, this ‘Mr. Drysdale’ character, who didn’t seem much older than you were, grit his teeth, leaned his head back, and groaned exasperatedly.

You tried not to be too nosy, but it was nearly impossible not to look over at the dramatic scene that was playing out next to you. A grown man, throwing some sort of hissy fit about not getting a room. Luckily for you, he glanced in your direction at the perfect moment to make an uncomfortable eye contact, and suddenly, his annoyed look turned into a devilish smirk.

Oh no.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not here all by myself. In fact, my girlfriend is right over there,” he tilted his head to gesture to you. Oh no. This was much worse than you anticipated. When you saw that smirk, you thought that maybe he’d hit on you, maybe even catch you at the bar and make some crude offer to you. You didn’t think he’d be using you in order to get a room.

“Oh, I-” you stuttered, not even knowing where to begin. What the hell was going on? You could barely process the last 5 hours of your life, let alone the scenario you’d just been tossed into.

“Alright, Mr. Drysdale. Sorry about the inconvenience.” The hotel employee didn’t even bother hiding his annoyance as he looked down and began to type on the computer. The man looked back over to you, gave you a little chuckle, then moved a bit closer to you so that he could wrap an arm around you.

You were honestly at a loss for words. What the fuck was happening? Maybe you were asleep. There was no way that this was all real. You were incapable of fighting this situation, or even arguing with this man. To be honest, he was pretty handsome. And it seemed like you two were getting one of the last rooms in the whole lodge, so at least you wouldn’t be sleeping on a couch in the lobby until the snow storms stopped.

“Alright, Hugh, Here’s your key. 2C.” The employee bit the inside of his cheek, enjoying the tiny win of calling the bothersome man a name he hated. Hugh? Really? You thought to yourself while rolling your suitcase away, and keeping up the act of being some stranger’s girlfriend until the pair of you reached the elevator.

As you two stood in silence, the weight of your actions began to sink in. What the hell did you just sign yourself up for? For all you know, this Hugh dude could be a murderer. Or a rapist. Or a crazy murderer rapist. You began to envision your name as the title of some True Crime podcast. ‘The Ski Lodge Slaughter of Y/N L/N.’ You began to feel yourself sweat under your winter coat.

“So, your name?” Hugh asked you casually, as if he hadn’t taken you more or less against your will. He basically kidnapped you. Oh god, ‘The Kidnapping and Killing of Y/N.’ Hugh looked down at you and quirked a brow. “My God, loosen up. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” He laughed. You debated whether or not to even tell this man your real name, but in a split irrational decision, you blurted it out.

“Y/N,” you said, then grimaced after. “Hey, don’t try anything funny on my guy,” you warned, trying to sound tough, but probably not sounding like it. “I have pepper spray on me, and I know your full name. No funny business, Hugh Drysdale.” You warned.

You watched as Hugh’s face went through a rollercoaster of emotions, but the general theme of which being amusement. You swore he stifled a laugh as the two of you exited the elevator and walked through the rather cozy halls. The pair of you stopped in front of a pine door labelled 2C.

“How about you call me Ransom,” he told you before opening the door to your home for at least the next week.

----

You spent the first few minutes in your suite looking around at all the luxuries it offered. It was essentially an apartment, and saying you were impressed was an understatement. The space was truly beautiful, with views like nothing you’d ever seen before. The master bedroom overlooked a mountain, the bathroom was massive and gorgeous, the balcony contained a hot tub, and the living room held a massive fireplace. There was only one problem.

There was just one bed.

Maybe you could sleep in the living room or something. It was definitely large enough. You were simmering deep in your thoughts while staring out the main window in the living room when you heard the words of your new roommate.

“It’s nice right?” He asked while coming to stand next to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“We used to come here every year, you know.”

“Oh really?” you replied, trying to sound intrigued in order to stay on his good side in the event that he actually was a murderer. “Like, you and your family? Or like, you and your friends..?”

“My family,” he looked away from the window and at you. “I can assure you, it’s always this nice.”

You looked up at him and tried to ignore the fact that you felt like you were a character in a Hallmark movie. “Why’d you stop?” you inquired, and he shrugged before turning away. You honestly felt kinda bad for the guy, even if he was just a random stranger. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I was supposed to be here with my friends. But their flights got cancelled because of some impending snow storm.”

You swore you heard a faint chuckle as Ransom began to walk into the bedroom. “That is pretty funny,” he confirmed before you heard the door close. Rude. You thought to yourself, before sitting down on the sofa in the middle of the room, and trying to find a show to hold you over.

----

The flight must’ve taken more out of you than you initially thought, because you woke up early in the morning with a blanket lazily draped over you, and a sharp pain in your back. You dug into your pocket and checked the time on your partially charged phone. Unsurprisingly, it was way-too-early-to-be-awake-o’clock. Damn jet lag. You tossed the blanket off yourself and figured that if you were awake, you may as well be eating something good. Shuffling into the kitchenette, you found a room service menu, and ordered enough for a small army. It wasn’t like you were paying for the food in the first place.

Sometime after your food arrived, Ransom walked into the room as well, and sat across from you at the table. “Morning babe, what’d you get us?” He asked playfully before popping a strip of bacon into his mouth.

You couldn’t help but to quirk your lips. You were kind of annoyed that he hadn’t even attempted to offer you the bedroom and left you to sleep on an uncomfortable couch, but his playful demeanor was infectious. “Basically everything, babe, hope you don’t mind the tab.” You gave him a little smirk as you lifted a mug of coffee to your lips.

“Not a problem, babe. How’d you know I’d wake up with an appetite this big?” He continued to banter with you.

“I just know my baby so well,” you giggled, then abruptly stopped when you noticed Ransom was not exactly laughing along with you. “Uhm, I’m gonna go take shower,” you said quickly before standing up, pushing your chair in, then escaping to the bathroom.

----

Your awkward interaction had been about a day ago, but luckily you hadn’t had any moments like that since. Some time in the afternoon, you sat back down on the sofa and cuddled into your own little corner. A bit later, Ransom joined you on the opposite end of the couch, and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence while watching reruns of classic Christmas movies ever since.

You were honestly shocked at how fast you and Ransom warmed up to each other, and how quickly you’d let down your (nearly nonexistent) guard. But to be fair, what girl had the willpower to resist the kinds of baby blues in his eyes? And his slightly overly confident, yet funny personality was quickly growing on you. Not to mention the way he was wearing the shit out of every sweater he put on. You couldn’t help but to daydream about the man while a pot in the kitchenette warmed up the milk for your hot chocolates.

“Hurry up, babe,” he whined from the sofa, to which you rolled your eyes. What a brat.

“On my way, dear,” you giggled, before finishing up the drinks and bringing him a mug. “You know, I really didn’t know what to expect when you basically kidnapped me,” you stated while sitting down.

“Haven’t you had fun? I mean, I know we can’t really go out in this kind of weather, but I like to think of myself as a fun guy.” he took a sip of the drink, then reeled at the heat’s assault on his tongue.

“I mean, I never really saw myself having as much fun with a stranger as I did when we played Uno last night,” you gave Ransom a shy smile.

“That was pretty great,” he nodded in agreement, and returned your smile with a lopsided grin.

“You know, I really expected you to be a dick. I’ve never seen someone make as big of a scene as you did in the lobby those days ago,” you snickered, then let your laugh die away when you saw Ransom press his lips together, furrow his brows, and stand. “What?” you asked with concern laced in your voice.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said dryly before walking off to the bedroom. This man and his Goddamn mood swings. You set down your mug, and cuddled into the quilt covering your body before attempting to go to sleep.

--

You awoke to a loud thud, and the sensation of goosebumps prickling all over your skin as a visceral reaction to the frigid cold that had suddenly taken over the suite.

“What the fuck,” you’d heard a groggy voice say from the bedroom. Ransom shuffled out of the room, and stood in the hall leading to the living room while pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Did you do this?” he slurred slightly, words heavy from sleep.

“No!” you pouted. “I just woke up in the same freezer as you!” You sat up, and stretched your arms while you tried to think of a reason why it was suddenly so cold in your suite. Maybe the employees were playing a prank on their least favorite tenant. Maybe the furnace was broken. Either way, you were both cold as hell, and couldn’t find a solution. You only had so many blankets. Suddenly, something came to you.

“Go back to your room, asshole,” you said quietly before wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Ransom obliged, and you began your search for as many toasty clothing articles you could manage. Luckily, you were smart when packing, and made sure to bring plenty of cable knit sweaters with you. In your tired haze, you clumsily threw the articles of clothing on, then began your trek to the bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” Ransom asked while pulling on another sweater, seemingly having the same idea as you.

“Get in the bed,” you demanded, before flopping in the bed next to him and yawning. You nearly moaned at the comfort of a real bed, rather than a sofa, but filtered yourself. “Cuddle me. We’ll be like little penguins.” You whispered sleepily, already feeling more relaxed at the heat radiating off your bed partner.

There was not one word of complaint coming from Ransom as he threw a strong arm around you, then buried his nose in your hair. “‘Night, Y/N,” he told you, his voice trailing off.

Even in your sleepy haze, your heart rate quickened when you realized that the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

----

In the morning, you woke up to a soft, yet empty bed. The heat was now clearly back on, and the heat was definitely back on in your face when you began to recall last night’s events.

----

That day was more of the same for you, watching shitty Rom Coms, over-indulging on room service, playing endless rounds of chess, and even more card games. Neither of you addressed the furnace sized elephant in the room of your late-night cuddle session, and you honestly hoped to keep it that way.

Sometime between a game of Solitaire and Crazy, Stupid, Love, you fell fast asleep, and were surprised when you woke up without the crick in your back, and deeply inhaling the scent of pine.

After you’d drifted off, Ransom had decided to carry you into his bedroom. You just looked way too peaceful to have to spend another night in your sofa hole. He set you down on the bed, pulled the comforter over your body, then gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“What the fuck,” He wondered quietly out loud to himself.

----

Cabin fever was beginning to eat at you and Ransom, and apparently, there was no better way to battle that than to drink excessively. It started when you added a bit of Bailey’s to your hot chocolates, and only escalated as you spent the night raiding the minibar.

After a few too many shots, you grabbed your phone and hit shuffle on a random playlist on your phone. “Come dance with me,” you giggled, pushing his hand away from a bottle of Grey Goose, and grabbing it instead. The pair of you stumbled over each others’ feet for a few minutes, before waltzing into the bedroom together and plopping clumsily onto the bed as a unit, with you straddling Ransom’s thin waist.

“I can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you,” you leaned down and spoke into his face. “Imagine if I wasn’t so dumb, and I didn’t go along with your stupid plan to get this room,” your nose was basically pressed into Ransom’s at this point. You looked deep into his eyes, and he was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he commented out of the blue, reaching up to rub his thumb on your flushed cheek.

“Shut up,” you averted your gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He asked raspily.

“Yeah,” you agreed, setting your hand on top of his hand that sat on your cheek.

The sound of fireworks being shot off in the distance briefly caught both of your attention, leading you to look out the window for a moment, before looking back at each other.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” you were quickly pulled into a sweet, passionate kiss.

And honestly, you couldn’t think of a better way to start the year.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape - track eleven

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

I was hiding from myself too. I was hiding from the part of my brain that was like ‘what are you gonna do now?’. Like, there’s a part of your brain that does thrive off of feeling like shit.

The voice shifted, just for a moment. 

Yea-

It was a tiny sound in the back, from behind the camera. It didn’t even form a full word before Ethan continued talking, but Indy flinched anyway. It was always worse when she was unprepared for it. 

In her distraction, she’d streaked her concealer too far past her eye and sighed, using her finger to pat it in, ignoring the way it splotched. It probably wasn’t the right shade, and it was definitely expired, but it was enough for her to look like maybe she had slept in the last two weeks. 

She hadn’t. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, even to blink, he was there. Sometimes, she welcomed it. But in that moment, standing in her mirror in her scrubs, she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Because she had to keep it together for 16 hours. 12 hours at the hospital on the peds floor, and another 4 at her shift at Jet’s afterward. So she kept her eyes open, took a deep breath, and walked out of her bathroom.

On the other side of the country, Grayson’s eyes were closed.

He wasn’t sleeping. It was 4 in the afternoon, which was the earliest time he could consider himself done with work for the day and escape to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It only got down to the high forties in LA, even in January, but he climbed under his comforter anyways, pulled his baby blanket up by his face. 

Time seemed to crawl by while he lay there alone. He rolled to his side, pulling his pillow down to wrap his arms around it, and when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. On his nightstand, turned towards him, was the frame that Indy had gotten him for Christmas. He wished she hadn’t curled up so much when he’d taken it. He wished he could see her face more in the glossy material, wished she had given him a picture of just her instead. When he squeezed his eyes shut again he could see her face better, every feature committed to memory. So he looked. He focused on the different shades of blue in her eyes and pretended like she was in class, and that he was on her couch waiting for her to come home. 

A knock sounded on his door, and his heart tightened. 

Ethan stepped in the room with a bag of Monty’s and a hopeful smile. 

Grayson didn’t move.

“I brought you dinner.”

Nothing.

Ethan sighed, dropping the act. He was giving up on it earlier and earlier these days.

“Bro, you’ve gotta eat. You didn’t eat lunch.”

“Not hungry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, tough shit then, cause I’m not leaving you alone until you eat at least some of this.” 

Grayson knew his brother, better than he knew himself sometimes, and he could tell by his tone that he was serious. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, and despite himself, his stomach growled at the smell of the fries in the bag, salty and warm. So he sat up begrudgingly and let Ethan pass him the bag, pretending not to see how his shoulders slumped in relief. 

He didn’t have to ask why Ethan stayed. It was to make sure he didn’t sit the bag down as soon as he closed the door behind him. So he waited, and he watched his brother eat his burger slower than usual, fighting to chew it and force it down.

“Where’s yours?” He asked eventually - he knew better than to think that Ethan hadn’t gotten himself a burger. 

“I uh… I ate with Eden.”

Grayson stopped chewing. His question was blatant in his eyes, and he waited for the answer.

“No, I didn’t fucking tell her,” Ethan grumbled, running his hand over his face. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m fucking lying to her.”

“Did she ask about… her?” He caught himself. He hadn’t said her name since they left New York. 

“Not yet. She knows something is up with you though, and if she starts asking questions I’m telling her.”

“No.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand. 

“Grayson. She’s gonna find out eventually, I gotta tell her.”

“No. Twin code.”

“Don’t pull that shit man, c’mon, we aren’t six anymore. That’s my wife, and she’s gonna be pissed as fuck at me. If you don’t tell her, I’m gonna have to.”

Grayson stayed quiet and put the rest of his burger back in the bag, his small appetite fading to nausea at the thought of having to admit to anyone else what he had done. He hadn’t had to explain it yet - Ethan knew enough to put the pieces together, and he had enough heart to stay quiet on the plane, just passing over his napkin from his drink as an extra tissue while Grayson looked out the window and cried quietly. But he wasn’t going to tell Eden - he wasn’t ready for that.

Ethan sighed. “I’m just saying Gray, she’s gonna start asking me questions, and I’m not gonna lie to her, that’s not me. That’s not either of us.” He paused, hoping for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get. “Whatever. We have a meeting at 10 tomorrow.”

Ethan left the room in silence, and Grayson closed his eyes.

Indy’s struggled to keep hers open. It was almost 4 am the worst hours of her shift. She poured another cup of coffee from the nurses’ lounge, ignoring the fact that it was burnt as she sipped it down and willed herself to wake up. Part of her wished it was iced - warm drinks made her sleepy, and worse, reminded her of cold New Jersey mornings that she couldn’t afford to think of. Just the idea of reminiscing made her chest tighten enough for her to suck in a breath and start to search for a distraction. She read the schedule instead, checking to see what tech would replace her come 7 am. She still had two vital checks to do on each patient, opting to do them on the even hours. Her head tipped back as she drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the trash, needing to keep her mind busy.

It wasn’t her job - only nurses could distribute meds, but she could prep the trays for the kids to make their lives easier. So she moved to the med cart and started to look through. 

“Adams, Adrian, Bellon, Campbell, Cortez, Jenkins, Kimp, Lopez, Mullins, Norton.” Her fingers stopped for a moment as she traced down the last names on the cart, mumbling them out. No Newcomb. She double-checked. Nothing.

Bekah didn’t have a tray. 

Indy’s heart sped up a bit, and she waited until she saw Ayria, one of the night shift nurses, coming out of a room.

“Hey, do you need me to get Newcomb a tray? Hers isn’t on here.” It felt weird to refer to Bekah by her last name, but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional.

Ayria frowned, coming to log into the computer on the med cart and check the charts. 

“Oh yeah, everything she’s getting is IV right now, no pills.”

Indy took a breath and steadied herself, glad to see that the clock had turned and she was able to make her rounds. She’d become an expert at taking vitals without waking the kids up - even some of the more seasoned nurses were impressed.

But she could never get past Beks.

The first day, during Indy’s orientation, Bekah could tell something was wrong. It was only three days after Grayson had left after all. Indiana knew that the floor needed a tech, and she knew they’d take her as soon as she asked. She also knew that if she let herself stay at home that she’d never leave it again. So she went and bought the cheapest scrubs she could find and mustered up enough energy to show up. 

She didn’t really need Ayria to show her around that day. She knew the unit inside and out from her time as a volunteer; she just needed the codes for the supply rooms and a list of her tasks for her 12-hour shift. But she was glad that they were together when they went into Bekah’s room because Bekah was kind enough not to say anything with someone else there. Now, she didn’t hold back.

“You look like shit,” she said as soon as Indy walked in.

“It’s 4 am, you should be asleep,” Indy countered with a smirk. The incident on Christmas was forgiven without a second thought, and she was relieved to be back to their normal banter as she put her blood pressure cuff on. 

“You should be asleep. This is your last shift of the week though.”

“Says who?”

“You’ve been here three days already, that’s the max you can work without overtime.” 

Indy kept quiet and wrote down her blood pressure in the chart. 

“Are you okay?” Bekah asked quietly, and Indy sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m fine Beks. Promise.”

Bekah contemplated if she should say it.

“Is it Grayson?”

Indy’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she held up the thermometer, and she had to blink hard to be able to read the numbers and scribble them down. 

Bekah took her silence as an answer. 

“Sorry. I know it must be hard, having him so far away,” she murmured. Indy couldn’t find her voice to tell her that it was okay. She fiddled with her blankets, tucking her in nicely and dimming her lights down to give her time to clear the knot in her throat.

“Get some sleep Beks.”

She held it together until she got outside her room, and then the tears escaped. As quickly as she could, she ducked her head and beelined for the nurses’ desk, using her oldest trick of drinking water to keep herself from fully breaking down. 

Valentina sat at her desk and watched with a frown, but she didn’t say anything. 

Indy gave herself one minute, and then she took a deep breath and got back to work. 

Time crawled, and she cursed herself for not leaving enough things to keep her busy for the rest of her shift. By 6 am, she’d resorted to cleaning the tables in the break room and reorganizing supplies in the supply closet to keep herself occupied. She knew the day shift nurses would appreciate the extra effort - they always sung her praises, thrilled to work a shift after her considering how well she set it up for them. 

Valentina came into the supply closet at 6:30.

“You might just work our daytime tech out of a job,” she said, making Indy jump and drop the bandages she was restocking.

“You scared me,” she said, catching her breath. “Just restocking.”

“You work too hard,” Valentina shook her head, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna burn yourself out sweetheart, and we need you around here.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You act like I don’t know you’re going to your other job right after this.”

“They give me good coffee there, what can I say,” Indy teased, but when she looked Valentina’s eyes were sad. “I like to keep busy.” 

“Too busy,” she tsked. “You leave at 6:50 today.”

“Valentina-”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it 6:40,” she threatened. “And you get some sleep later, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Indy conceded, knowing it wasn’t an argument she could win. Nurses weren’t the type to lose an argument, and she’d never met a more nurse-y nurse than Valentina. She finished stocking quickly, gathering her bags and double-checking she’d finished everything before she headed out, waving goodbye to the nurses she saw. 

She was distracted on her way out, and she didn’t think when she hit the button to get into the next hallway. 

For two weeks, she prepped. Mentally paused and thought of all the things that could hit her out of the blue, make her come unraveled. She was ready, for the couples in the street holding hands, for the husbands coming to walk their wives home from work, the high schoolers on hot chocolate dates in the big city. But it was always the small things that got her. 

She hadn’t prepared herself, and her eyes automatically went to the walls when she cleared the doors. The ocean mural. The jellyfish, the sea turtle on the wall that Grayson had said looked like Ethan once. It hit her like a ton of bricks, her chest so tight that she reached up to press on it as she heard his voice in her head. It made her feel pathetic, the way she had to stop and grab onto the rail in the hall and steady herself for a moment. She counted her breaths, trying her hardest to shut her mind off, staring at the blue of the walls as she willed herself to be okay, just for another day.

Grayson was staring at the water. Or at least, he was trying to. The moon wasn’t very bright, but it reflected enough off the ocean for him to get a sense of which way the sun would come up. The whole surface was washed black by the night sky, and it was peaceful. He wanted to swim in it. He wanted to sink beneath it and find that blissful quiet you could only find underwater. 

He’d fallen asleep soon after Ethan had left him alone, which meant he found himself wide awake at 4 am, body tired of being asleep. Sitting in bed would only make things worse, so he sent Ethan a quick text and headed off in the Porsche towards the secret beach. There was no one else there so early in the morning, and he was grateful. It gave him the peace of mind to curl in on himself, let the tears flow freely as the waves lapped at the shore, returning over and over. 

Time ran away from him in the dark. His tears ceased eventually, dried themselves out as he sat in his misery. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let it wash over him, sink into every pore and weigh him down, wishing he could somehow disappear into the sand as the sun started to rise and wash the world in light orange. His phone buzzed, no doubt a text from his brother. He elected to ignore it, keeping his eyes on the water, counting the waves as they came in. It was admirable, the dedication they showed; returning every time they got sucked back out. 

At some point, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he sighed, pulling his hood up over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from whoever was watching him. He stood up and brushed the sand off himself, ducking his head down and jogging straight back to his car, hoping whoever it was wasn’t trying to come up to him. 

As soon as he ducked into his car and pulled the door shut, he sunk down, resting his forehead against his steering wheel. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his dashboard. His radio turned on with a jolt, connected to his phone and automatically starting his playlist. Cudi blared through the speakers and he groaned, hitting all the wrong buttons in an attempt to get it to turn off.

“Stop, fucking stop!” In a last attempt he chucked his phone across the car, watched it ricochet off the dash and down into the floorboard. He threw his car into reverse with blurry eyes, desperate to get away from anyone who might have a camera. He was paranoid the whole drive home that someone was watching, eyes darting to the windows of any car he ended up next to at a stoplight. It wasn’t until he got the gate closed behind him and he was in the house that he felt like he could breathe again. With Ethan still asleep down the hall, he choked back his sobs as he sat down at the counter, face in his hands. 

Indy was taking deep breaths behind the counter as the line started to pile up at Jet’s. She looked to her right, frowning at the stress on her new coworker, Mariposa’s, face as the cups continued to line up next to her. 

“Hey Posie,” she called over between customers. “Do you wanna switch?”

“God yes,” she exclaimed, rushing to take Indy’s place at the register so she could move over to the bar. 

Indiana preferred it that way. She didn’t have to smile for a latte, she just had to pour it and try not to burn her fingers and move on to the next. It had come back like second nature to her, and she liked the fast pace. It gave less time for her to think, and she welcomed the numbing repetition. She kept an ear piqued towards the register, listening to the orders coming in so she could get ahead. The next one came from a taller man, his face hidden behind a coat.

“Just give me the biggest cup of the strongest stuff you’ve got.”

Indy dropped her cup, a half poured latte splattering all over her hands first, down her apron, then the bottom of her jeans and onto her shoes. It only took one look over at the man to realize it wasn’t Grayson, and she deflated. 

“Shit,” she hissed, flicking her hands in an attempt to chill the burn that was already searing on her skin. She side-stepped to the sink, flipping the cold water on and letting it flow over her hands. It stung even more, and she sighed at the bright red of her skin. She’d had enough burns from her time as a barista to know that it would blister. 

“Indiana, you okay?” Patrick called from the ovens, moving a line of pastries in and out.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He frowned, but kept quiet, letting her get back into the groove of making drinks. Indy could feel him watching her, the familiar weight of a protective eye over her shoulder. At least he was kind enough to wait until her shift was over before he tried to talk to her again.

“Hey, how’s your hand?” 

Indy looked down and sighed at the sight of her red skin, resisting the urge to rub it. Instead, she moved to the first aid kit and grabbed a wrap bandage. 

“It’s been better, but I’ll survive.”

“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow,” Patrick suggested as casually as he could. “You know, to rest your hand.”

Indy scoffed.

“It’s not gonna fall off Patrick, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Fine, if you’re gonna make me say it then I will. You’re a hard worker, one of the best we have, but you’re exhausted. We can all see it, and you don’t need to burn yourself out like this for a minimum wage job. So, you’re off tomorrow. No exceptions.”

“But-”

“No. Exceptions.” 

Her anger bubbled up in her like the blister forming on her thumb, but she knew it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. He was right - she was just upset at the idea of having an entire day with nothing to distract her. An empty apartment had never seemed so daunting, and it was all she could think about as she clocked out, got her things together, and walked home.

It was quieter than she’d imagined when she got through the door, the click of the latch echoing through the still space. She thought of turning on music, but that only made her think of Grayson, singing off-key next to her in the truck. She could put on a movie, but it would make her think of cuddling with him on the couch. Her bed was where he had been so many nights. He’d cooked in her kitchen, he’d helped her move furniture in the guest room. 

She couldn’t escape him, no matter where she went. And so, as pathetic as she felt doing it, she sunk down right there on the floor, and she let the misery have her. It came in broken sobs that caught on her throat on the way out, too loud even for her own ears as she tried to imagine a day where she didn’t feel like the world was crumbling around her. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But eventually, the things no one ever talked about started to happen. Her butt went numb, and her head started to hurt, and her lips got dry from the saltwater that ran over them. None of that mattered though. What finally got her up from the cold floor was the fact that she was sticky - remnants of the vanilla syrup in the latte that she’d dropped finally congealing and making her feel more disgusting than the tears. She peeled herself up off the floor and headed to her bathroom.

Grayson was in the shower, with his head down, water splashing over his back and bouncing off his shoulders - a statue in the rain. It was the best place to avoid getting on his phone, considering he couldn’t, and that was the only way he could trust himself to not get on twitter and see the aftermath of the morning.

He wondered for a moment what he looked like from outside the glass shower door, standing there with his razor up by his chest. The blades clogged with the long hairs he shaved from his chest, leaving him bare and smoother than he’d been in months. He sat the razor down and moved to pick up a clear bottle from the shelf. Polis was scribbled on it in sharpie in Ethan’s handwriting, remnants of a Wakeheart meeting. Grayson could remember how excited he was to pitch the idea, even if it was over zoom. 

“I finally came up with the third body wash scent. Vanilla, with a hint of coffee and then a little bit of sandalwood to keep it professional and put together.” 

He’d had to whisper it - Indy was asleep in her room, the product of a good post study-session back rub that had lulled her into a much-needed nap. The team loved it, thought it complimented the other two scents they’d been testing well. Ethan was hesitant, but he kept his mouth shut and brainstormed a backup if needed.

Grayson was thankful for the gesture, even when he’d told him that he’d started planning it as early as he had. But he wasn’t willing to give it up, and he made it very clear in their first meeting back that Polis was a permanent scent. It felt like a tiny piece of her that he could hold onto. Still, as he stood there and held the bottle up to his nose, it wasn’t the same. As pitiful as it made him feel, he tried closing his eyes, tried to imagine she was there with him, standing in front of him, giggling like she always did when they showered together. 

He couldn’t do it justice. Couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin against his, couldn’t smell her shampoo or watch her try to bend over and shave her legs in her small apartment shower without bumping into him. He’d held her hips to help her keep her balance, listened to her laugh and talk about casual intimacy, heard the way it echoed off the tiles and became his favorite sound in the entire world. 

His tears mixed with the water, his pain palpable as he started to quiver just barely, the memory enough to break down the paper thin wall he’d managed to drag back up to protect himself. When his knees shook he gave up and sunk to the ground, green tiles of the bench seat icy against his back as he buried his face in his hands. He’d never felt weaker in his life, and he wished he was ten again, so his dad could wrap his strong arm around his shoulder and tell him that everything would be alright. 

He went for the next best thing once he managed to get enough energy to get up and turn the water off. A few swipes of his towel over his body and hair, then he pulled his boxers on and put on his robe, walking straight out of his room and down the hall.

Ethan’s door was open, but he wasn’t in his bed like Gray expected. He was at his desk instead, a look of stress on his face that Grayson was all too familiar with. A pang of guilt resonated in him when he realized what his brother was doing - picking up all the slack that he was leaving in his misery. 

He hadn’t said a word about it though, and that made it worse.

It took Ethan a moment to realize his brother was there, but as soon as he did he turned his desk chair, giving him his full attention.

“Hey.”

Grayson didn’t answer.

“You okay?” Ethan tried again. Grayson’s throat burned, and he shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d never been able to hide from Ethan, and luckily, he never really had to. Because Ethan was the type of brother to act tough when he needed to, but soften up at the smallest things. Which was why Grayson wasn’t surprised to see his brother rise up out of his chair, coming to sit next to him. The bed sunk down a bit with his weight, and Grayson let himself press up against his brother. The air felt heavy while he waited.

“You’re good. Just let it out.” Ethan’s voice was quiet, and he leaned his cheek against his brother’s head and felt him go to pieces. It was the hardest Grayson had cried since the airport, and every sniffle made his head pound but he couldn’t pull himself together. Those were the kind of moments where he wondered how people survived without twin brothers. He felt safe there with Ethan - if everything else fell apart, at least he’d have him. There were a million things he could say, but he already knew what the answers would be. Ethan would tell him that he’d find someone else some day, and that Indy would heal and that he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he did. He also knew that Ethan would say all of it even if he didn’t believe it, because their pain was shared.

Grayson cried himself out again after an hour or so, his sinuses pounding behind his eyes as the headache settled in. 

Ethan stayed still - he knew better than to leave him. It wasn’t until Grayson finally wiped at his eyes that his brother relaxed a bit, watched him stand up and run his hands over his face. It felt colder without Ethan right next to him, but he knew he needed to sleep. 

“Try to get some sleep,” Ethan echoed his thoughts. “We need to record the pod tonight if you can.”

“Okay. I can help with the emails, I know we probably have a shit ton.”

Ethan was already shaking his head before he finished.

“Just get some sleep, okay?”

Grayson nodded and gave him the best smile he could manage before he went back into his room, climbing back into the safety of his covers with his phone in his hand, just in case she called.

Indy’s pillow was wet. It was mainly from her hair soaking into the pillowcase - she didn’t have the energy to dry it after her shower. But she’d also made a terrible mistake. One scroll through the app store and a quick log in and she was back onto instagram, ignoring the now thousands of follow requests she had in her notifications. It only took one click to her explore page and her tears were adding to the moisture below her cheek. 

He had on his Cudi hoodie, the yellow one. She wished she’d been there to tell him not to wear it. It was too bright, a target for the cameras that seemed to find him. The first ones she saw stung. They were only of his back, taken from far enough away that she could pretend it was someone else. But she knew the way he sat, with his arms over his knees. 

The next ones hurt, because she could see his face. He was walking, and she knew him well enough to know he’d realized what was happening and tried to leave, just from his posture, the way he slumped while walking. His eyes were red, those dark circles that she’d ran her fingers over so many times worse than she’d ever seen them. Ever since he’d left, she’d wanted to know how he felt. If he missed her at all, if he was as miserable as she seemed to be every minute of every day.

It hurt worse to get her answer than it did to wonder. She’d hoped he was upset, but suddenly all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was okay, that she was okay even though she wasn’t. It was impossible not to scroll, looking for anything new, any hints as to what he had been up to since he’d gotten off that plane. 

She had never asked for a front row seat to his life, but she’d take it if it was the only glimpse of him that she could get. It made her feel pathetic, but she didn’t care enough to fight it.

Eventually, she found herself scrolling his page. She couldn’t tell how she got there, but she couldn’t seem to leave it either. So she just scrolled, averting her eyes from any comments, and pretending, just for a moment, that everything was back to the way it was. That he was just busy recording a podcast, or that he’d be sprawled out on her couch when she went out to the living room. 

She held onto it until she walked out of her room, knowing she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to. She kept her eyes off the couch, moving to her cabinets that were barren apart from a few avocados that were rotten. With a sigh she threw them in the trash that was close to overflowing, opting instead for the last box of mac and cheese she had left. 

Indy was thankful for muscle memory, her mind wandering off to better days where her kitchen wasn’t so quiet as she cooked the pasta she really didn’t want and took it back to her room, curling up under her covers as she ate.

Grayson had two empty boxes of vegan mac and cheese in front of him, one of which obviously had an ‘E’ scribbled on it that he’d ignored when he made them. He shoveled the noodles into his mouth, ignoring the way they burnt his tongue just barely. Ethan walked in and saw the boxes, opened his mouth and shut it again. 

“S’pod setup?” Grayson said around a mouthful.

“Yeah, I set up the pod, we’re good whenever you’re ready.”

“Gimminute.”

Ethan just chuckled and shook his head, happy to at least see his brother eating even if he was shoveling it down like he hadn’t seen food before. He waited, seeing that Gray was done within the next two minutes, sitting his bowl in the sink and stretching his arms out. He looked tired, but Ethan hoped the pod camera was far enough away from them to make the dark circles subtle enough. 

“Do you want some of my old concealer stuff? For under your eyes?”

Grayson hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails. “You still have it?” 

“Yeah, hang on.” Ethan ran to his bathroom, snagged the compact from his bottom drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “Come over here, you’re supposed to do it in natural light.”

He held it out for Grayson, who just looked up at him. 

“I don’t know how the fuck to do it, you do it.”

“Do I look like a makeup artist to you?” Ethan asked, and when Grayson stayed quiet, he sighed and flipped the compact open, swiping his finger through the semi-creamy substance and moving to pat it on his brother, frowning when it was more difficult than he thought it would be. “Look up you fuck, I gotta blend it.”

Grayson just rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting still until E said he was finished and led the way to the studio. They got settled in their chairs, double checking the camera angles. Ethan cleared his throat, waiting until his brother looked at him. 

“Are we… do you want to mention anything about…”

Grayson waited. He wondered if his brother was really going to be dumb enough to ask.

“Are we talking about the pictures, yes or no.”

“What the fuck do you think the answer to that is,” Gray grumbled.

“I’m just saying, if you mention it you can say what you want about it, get your own voice out there. Whatever you say, I’ll go along with it.”

“Great.”

Grayson took a deep breath, gave Ethan a look that read as an apology, and clicked the button to start recording. He stayed fairly quiet the first few minutes of the recording, waiting to jump into a conversation that didn’t make his throat tight. The podcast was his favorite place, because he could let himself actually speak, say what he wanted to say without worrying. 

It came back to bite him in the ass 45 minutes into the episode, when his guard was down and he had finally lost himself the way he did when he worked. They were talking about birds, and how they had a bad, unjustified rep. 

“I mean, Gizmo can be an asshole sometimes, but she’s only an asshole when people are like, scared of her,” Ethan mused. 

“Right! She gets all shy when I come home after a while, but when Dee came in the house the first time she was freaking out, just from hearing her and I swear, every time after that Giz just like, screamed every single time she was even in the house.”

“Gray-”

“No seriously! You remember how loud she got? Fuck, remember that time she went down to help mom with dessert and Giz was out and she cried?”

“Grayson.”

“What? Did I peak the mic?”

Ethan’s eyes were sad. “You… you said her name.”

“Huh?”

“Indiana. You said Dee, when you were telling that story.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He could see him spiraling, and he tried to reel him back in. “You’re okay. We can just cut it, and start again with a story about Gizmo.” 

“Yeah uh… just give me a second.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

“Just, uh, say what you said again before,” Grayson murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. But it was too late - he was so consumed by what his mind had brought back to the surface that he could barely hear Ethan repeat his words.

“Yeah-” Grayson came in a moment late. “Giz is a special one.”

Ethan waited for him to continue, but jumped in when he didn’t. “She gets shy when you haven’t been home in a while and you show up. That’s the thing about animals dude, like people think about cats and dogs and they can recognize their emotions, but with stuff like birds and cows and shit, people just don’t think about them that way, and it fucking sucks. They have feelings too! Gizmo’s fucking sassy bro, she will let you know how she’s feeling, especially if she’s pissed. Bro, we should have Giz on the pod, do you think she’d talk? She can whistle, we could show off her tricks.”

“You can’t put a bird on a plane,” Grayson mumbled. His eyes were fixed down on the blue center of the table, and he was fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Yeah, but we can put the mics in our suitcases and just record at home.”

Ethan realized it a moment too late. He wanted to snatch his words out of the air, scratch them from the tape when he saw the way Grayson’s eyes met his, saw the gloss near his waterline. 

“Yeah - uh - um,” Grayson tried to save it, and then he covered his mouth, silencing the squeak that turned into a sob. He pretended it was a cough, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the camera.

“I uh, I miss home a lot more this time than I usually do,” he said, his voice froggy with the tightness of his throat. Ethan couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say as he watched his brother fight and lose in his battle to keep his composure, covering his mouth as he cried, knuckles brushing up against the mic.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry E.”

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan was up so fast he forgot to take off his headphones. They fell back into the chair when they pulled off his ears as he moved to his brother, pulling him up into a hug. “We can finish it later, we’ll just cut to an ad or something. It’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh. It’s fine bro, it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go get some air.” 

Air wasn’t what they found.

Instead, they found Eden, standing against the counter with her arms crossed in a way that had Ethan’s blood running cold. He thought the sight of Grayson practically curled in on himself might have softened her up, but she stood her ground until both of the twins were looking at her. 

Grayson knew that she knew, and she only confirmed it when she spoke.

“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.” 

Back in New York, Indy’s phone was ringing. Or at least, she thought it was. But when she unlocked it and was blinded by the light, it was just her lockscreen, Grayson smiling at her with 3:04 written across the top. Judging by the darkness, she knew she hadn’t slept the afternoon away, but the buzzing continued until she finally climbed out of bed and realized it was the intercom system - the front desk calling her through the small phone on her wall that hardly ever rang. She pulled it off the receiver and held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi Ms. Cross, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”

Her heart skipped, and she clutched the phone with both her hands.

“Who?”

There was a beat of silence, and Indy could vaguely hear her ask him for a name. 

“His name is Devin.” 

She sucked in a breath, letting her head and her hopes fall. 

“Send him up.” 

It took her a moment to process her grief before the panic set in. If Devin was showing up unannounced, something bad must have happened. She swung her door open, chewing on her nails as she stood in the doorway, waiting for him to appear. He came out of the elevator with a small duffle slung over his shoulder and a cautious smile that had her ready to cry.

“Dev, what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Charlie?”

“Also fine. We’re fine.”

She caught her breath, and then she was frowning. “If everything is fine, why the fuck are you here at 3am?”

“Because you haven’t answered your sister’s calls in a week, and she’s worried sick about you.”

Guilt panged in her stomach - she hadn’t meant to ignore her. In all honesty, she’d ignored everyone without realizing it. 

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just slipped my mind. Is she here too?”

“She’s got a wedding to shoot this weekend, and we only had one ticket anyways. Flight got delayed, tried to find a hotel for the night so I could wait until later this morning but I couldn’t find one so you’re stuck with me. Sorry,” he teased, reaching out to hold onto her shoulder. There was no malice in his voice, and Indy was grateful. “Let’s go inside.” 

He didn’t ask for it, but she made him a coffee anyways alongside her own. She was tired, her eyes burning, but it wasn’t anything new from the last few weeks. She fought it, pulling one of the few sweatshirts Grayson had left at her place over her head before she sat on the couch, waiting.

Devin was quiet, tapping his fingers against his mug, out of his element. 

“Dev.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t fly to New York to drink coffee with me. Talk.”

He sighed, sitting his mug down on the coffee table and turning towards her.

“Inds, we’re worried about you.” 

Indy scoffed, a short, automatic sound. 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You really, really aren’t. You’re running yourself into the ground for no good reason.” 

“I’m trying to pay rent,” she countered, but even she knew it wasn’t true.

“Your hospital job pays more than rent. Jet’s is just because you’re scared to let your mind rest.”

Indy didn’t have an answer, so she sipped her coffee instead, cursing herself for telling Charlie everything in a moment of weakness. The silence was loud, and Devin sighed to break it after far too long.

“Have you talked to him? Since?”

Her throat was tight. “No.”

Devin wrung his hands together. “You do know it was fucked up what he did, right?”

“Dev-”

“I’m just making sure you know that. You can still make your own decision on however you wanna navigate it in the future, but you have to acknowledge that what he did was a new level of shitty. And he’s a good guy, I really do think he is, but he fucked you over, and you’re my family. And I protect my family. So I just need you to know that you didn’t deserve what he did to you, and he fucked up. Big time.” 

“Right.”

“Okay, good.”

She let him believe it, though she’d only said it to appease him. She wondered if he would feel differently, if he had seen. If he had felt, the way that Grayson had shook in her arms, the way his sobs seemed to be ripping him apart every moment that he was hurting her. She wanted to pull up her phone, show him the pictures from the beach, show him that he was hurting too, that he didn’t want to hurt her. She wanted to prove it to him.

“When does your semester start?” He asked, pulling her mind off of it. She swallowed hard, then took another drink of coffee. 

Indiana had spent three days in self pity when she got back from the airport. She let the misery have her fully - didn’t change her clothes, barely ate, hardly left her bedroom. And then, after that, she picked herself up and got to work. She applied for her tech job and called Patrick to see if she could get the schedules to align, and more importantly, she’d started to run numbers. 

Medical school. Just the application fees alone were going to hit her budget hard, so much so that she reduced it down to two. JCU, and UCLA. 

Her applications had gotten accepted three days prior, along with an email about a scholarship she was eligible for at UCLA that made it comparable to JCU’s tuition. But the money wasn’t the issue, and when it was time to accept, she knew that UCLA wouldn’t hold her spot forever.

She’d taken a deep breath, and emailed the registrar. 

“I deferred.”

She was embarrassed to say it outloud, and for some reason it was the brick of the dam that fell, and her tears began to flow. She felt Devin’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.

“Good.”

She hadn’t expected him to be mean - in fact, the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say was what he’d just said about Grayson. But it still shocked her enough to have her frowning.

“Good?”

“Indy. Do you realize how long you’ve been a student? Do you know who you are outside of being one?”

“I-”

“You’re the smartest person I know, and I love you, but I think you need to take a step back and really look at what you’re doing. Take a semester, fuck, take a year. Live. Breathe. You’re already ahead, and you’ll still be ahead.”

“I’m not worried about being ahead, Dev,” she whispered, running her hands over her face.

“Then what are you worried about?” There was a sincerness in his voice, and a gentleness in the way he held her hand that made her cry even harder.

“I just don’t know what the fuck to do anymore,” she blubbered, grateful when he pulled her over to his chest in a hug. He let her cry it out for a while, waiting until she was calm enough to hear him.

“I don’t have the answer to that, but I say, ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there. If it’s being a doctor, great. If it’s not, great. Just as long as it’s what you want.”

She took a shaky breath in, and blew it out through her lips, simply giving him a nod.

The problem was, she knew exactly what she wanted - and he was off in Los Angeles, cowering behind his brother.

“Baby, woah, hey, take it easy,” Ethan cautioned, side stepping into the war path she’d outlined, headed straight for Grayson. Her eyes were fire when she looked at her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s having a rough night, just take it easy,” he added.

He stoked the flames.

“You know who else is probably having a rough fucking night? Indiana. And we are gonna talk later-” she poked a finger into Ethan’s chest - “but right now, I’m not talking to you so I suggest you get out of my way.” 

There was a bite in her tone that had Ethan rocking back on his heels, questioning just how far his duties as protective brother would go. He breathed out a sigh when he felt Grayson’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine E.” 

He’d never admit it, but Grayson had been waiting. Ever since he pulled away on New Year’s, he had waited for the punishment. The anger, the disbelief, the spite that he thought would arise in Indiana at the realization of what he’d done. 

It wasn’t until he got off the plane and into his room that he realized his true punishment would be the guilt, and the grief, and the realization that he’d pushed away the only future he’d ever truly known he wanted. 

The anger was a welcomed change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck, Grayson.”

“I know.”

“I don’t say a lot of shit about a lot of shit, but whoever you decide to be with could possibly end up as part of my family, forever, so fuck me if I’m invested, and I think I deserve an explanation on why I just got a call from Charlie to see if I’d talked to Indy, cause she’s ‘really going through it’.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” His eyes turned glossy, and Ethan stood up straighter.

“The fuck you didn’t,” she scoffed, running her hand through her hair to push her curls out of her face. “You realize how badly you fucked up, right? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And that you broke her heart right? Probably absolutely fucking destroyed her.”

“Eden-” Ethan spoke up.

“Yes,” Grayson answered, his chest tight. He wrapped his arms around himself, willed them to hold him together. It felt different, to have someone say it to him so directly, to confirm what he had done.  

“Then why? Just… why?”

“Long distance wouldn’t have worked, and I didn’t want -”

“Oh bullshit. No one would have tried harder than Indiana to make that work, you fucking know that.”

“She shouldn’t have to deal with that, with me being so far away -”

“God you fucking self-sacrificial fuck!” She yelled. “She loved you, you moron, and when you love someone, you give! You hit a crossroads, you sit down and have a fucking conversation, and you fucking give! That’s what a fucking real relationship looks like, not you deciding that you don’t deserve to be loved and running in the other fucking direction!” Her face was red when she stopped to catch her breath. Ethan looked just as shocked at the outburst as his brother. Her mind seemed to catch up to her ears, and she backtracked.

“Sorry, fuck, that was -”

“No, you're right. You’re right. Everything you said was fucking right,” Grayson didn’t even try to hide his tears. He blubbered into his hands, ugly choking sobs that he wasn’t sure how he even produced. Ethan was at his side immediately, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“What do I do?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands until he finally raised his head and looked at Eden with pleading eyes, waiting for an answer she was reluctant to give.

“You let her live. Don’t text her, don’t call her. If she calls, you don’t answer. When you go home, you don’t see her. You let her let go, and move on.”

All he could do was nod, and lean into his brother.

Indy leaned against the wall. It was cold and unrelenting against her shoulder, but it held her up better than her own legs would. She’d dropped Devin off at the airport that afternoon, and found herself back on the ped’s floor, waiting. 

Valentina spotted her first from the nurses station, and the way she held her clipboard made it look like a weapon.

“My eyes better be deceiving me, cause’ I know that is not Indiana Cross standing in my hallway on her day off.” 

Indy found it in her to laugh dryly. “Relax Val, I’m here to see Beks. Haven’t gotten to visit her off the clock for a while.”

Valentina still gave her signature disapproving stare, but she gave it up with a sigh. “Well, her family is visiting too. Mom and Dad, if you wanna say hi.”

It had been a long time since she’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb. They were lovely people, and they truly did come see her as often as they could. But they also worked two jobs a piece to try to foot the medical bills, which meant often was scarce. 

Indy had never seen them in the same room before, and her stomach tightened. She was hesitant to go to Bekah’s room, scared to interrupt, but when she peaked her head around her doorway, she saw the couple sitting on the couch in the room quietly. 

Mrs. Newcomb spotted her, eyes brightening as she waved her inside. 

“Come in, come in!”

Indy was still hesitant as she walked inside, eyes darting over to a sleeping Bekah. She was curled up under her halloween blanket, brows furrowed down and skin pale. 

“Hi Indiana, how are you sweet girl?” Mrs. Newcomb asked.

“I’m good, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just thought I might stop by and check on her but I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no you’re fine! She was actually asking about you just before she went to sleep, you and Earring, whoever that is. Hang on.”

Indy watched as she moved over to the edge of her daughter’s bed, running her thumb along her cheek until she started to stir.

“Sweetheart, Indiana is here to see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bekah whined, but pulled her eyes open, smiling slightly when Indiana moved into her view.

“Hey punk,” Indy said, crouching down so she could get to her level. 

“Hey,” she whispered, voice hoarse. On instinct, Indy reached out to fix her head wrap, making Bekah’s mother smile. “What time is it?”

“6:55,” Indy answered.

“Mmm. Meds coming soon,” she mumbled. “Where’s Earrings? He doesn’t like needles, don’t let him see the needles.”

“No needles baby,” Mrs. Newcomb said. “Just some to make you feel better. You rest now.”

“Earrings,” she said again, and Indy could tell she was asking. 

“He’ll be here to see you soon,” Indy lied, rubbing over her wrap like she would her hair if it was still there. 

It didn’t click for Indiana until 7 rolled around, and Jennifer came in with a cup of pills instead of an IV pole.

Radiation and chemo don’t come in pills, Indy knew that much. 

Mrs. Newcomb watched the realization come across her face, and she gave her a sympathetic smile.

“She’s… she didn’t get her meds.”

“Indiana baby, it’s what she wants. The new round didn’t work, the stem cells failed. It’s time to let her rest. We’ll keep her comfortable, the doctor says it’ll probably be a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Indy’s throat burned, and her breathing quickened, chest rising much too fast. She couldn’t say goodbye to anyone - it took all her focus to make it out of the building, running down the stairs and across the lobby before she was dry heaving in the bushes, the sight of Bekah’s frail body in her bed appearing every time she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. More of an instinct, really, that drove her to pull her phone out of her pocket and pull him up and call.

In LA, Grayson’s phone buzzed against his nightstand. A new picture of Indiana popped up - her contact photo that he’d taken one day in Jersey. With a knot in his throat and Eden’s voice in his ears, he reached over and turned it off before rolling away and letting his tears soak into the pillowcase.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 40 Pt 5

“Dad took them shopping.” Valter said as he took Sildie’s bag from Gustaf.

“Ahh, that explains it.” Gustaf chuckled.

“She’s looking better.”

“Still not all the way there, but yes, better.” Gustaf said quietly.

“You want me to hang or split?”

“Hang, you’re in the middle of getting you ass handed to you again.” He grinned as he scooped Lily up for some dad dad cuddles. Damn he’d missed this, he thought, all of them, but especially his Lily bear.

“Yeah. Thanks, bro.” Valter said sarcastically as he took Sildie’s bag to the bedroom.

“Boys, take it down a notch.” He said softly. “She’s not fully well yet.” Kissing her temple he snaked an arm around her as she slumped slightly, her energy spent.

“I need to go lay down ok?” She said to the twins. “You can come see me after my nap and we can have dinner together. I’ve missed that.”

“Love you mum.” Brendan hugged her fiercely. She knew it had hit him harder, the poor kid was slightly less of a mess than Gustaf.

“I’m ok B. I’m on the mend now and in a few weeks I’ll be back to normal.” The teen nodded. “It scared you?” She murmured holding him close.

“Yep.” She could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m sorry love.”

“Sok.” He shrugged. “You’re back, that’s all that matters.”

“So what are you cooking?” She asked seeing the half prepped meal on the counter.

“Chicken soup for you. Grandpa helped me go shopping.” He said quietly.

She choked up. “Yum.” Her smile made the kid grin. “I’ll take anything that’s not jelly. Thank you, especially for helping Gustaf.”

“We’re a family.” Brendan murmured.

“We sure are love.”

“Bed Sildie before you fall down.” Gustaf said gently, he didn’t want to pull her away from the kids, but she was crumpling to the floor in front of his eyes.

“Going.” She looked over at Valter, the twins already whooping his ass again. “Thanks Valter.”

“Anytime, although I’m regretting that decision now these two are wiping the floor with me.” He grinned. “Again.”

Gustaf helped her shuffle to the bedroom, Lily intent on hugging her and getting snippy with Gustaf at his lack of urgency. “Hang on a second little lady, she’ll drop you if I hand you over.” Sildie sat on the bed, her sigh turning into a coughing fit. Sitting beside her he let Lily stand on the bed and hug Sildie.

“I’ve missed them.” She choked.

“I know love, they’ve missed you too.” He toyed with a wave of copper that had escaped her braid.

“He was so scared.” She let the tears fall, better out than trying to hold them back.

“We all were.” He whispered, his own emotions getting the upper hand.

“Mum mum mum.” Lily patted her cheek softly.

“I’m ok Lily bear.” She smiled through the tears and swiped them away.

“Nap then food or food then nap?” Gustaf asked.

“Nap. I’m wiped.” She barely had the strength to bend and unlace her boots.

“Let me.” He said softly and got on his knees to undo her boots.

“I have zero energy, it’s crazy. Like someone flicked an off switch or took my batteries out.” She chuckled.

“Your body has been through hell on the inside love, it needs time to recover.” He pulled her feet free of the boots and looked up at her. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweet man, and thank you for taking care of me.” She cupped his face in her hand and he leaned into it relishing the contact. Damn he’d missed her. “Even when I’m a cranky bitch and don’t deserve you.” She snorted, snuggling Lily in.

“You were ill, I think you get a pass on being a cranky bitch. I’m not much better when I’m sick. Makes me grumpy. I’m a bear, fair warning.” His quip got the smile he was after.

“Little lady you need to go to dad dad.” She said. “I don’t have the energy to hold you up.” She said smiling and Lily giggled as Gustaf kissed her neck, scruff tickling.

“Into bed love.” He kissed her softly and helped her get under the covers. “Your phone is there, text me if you need something or need to get up. I don’t want you struggling to get to the bathroom and falling.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I could get there without you.” She slurred, her body already pulling her under.

“Sleep love.” He kissed her temple and Lily said her soft mum mum as they left her to rest. Coming out into the kitchen he found Brendan making soup, their own dinner already in the oven. “Thanks kid.” He pulled the teen in for a rough guy hug. “For the soup, dinner, and keeping your siblings safe. For helping out. I’m grateful.”

“Thanks for keeping mum safe.” He mumbled. “I was scared.”

“Me too kid, me too.” Lily gave her brother a big hug too. “Even Lily thinks you’re awesome.” He chuckled. Settling in the one seat with her he watched the twins and let his mind relax, to just have a moment to zone out and not think. She was home and safe, the kids were ok, he was beat to hell, but they’d got through the worst of it. While Valter kept the twins occupied and smooched a happy Lily in his lap, Gustaf hit the workout room an hour or so later. Mentally and emotionally he was wiped, and he knew the physical tenseness would ease once he went a round with the bag. There was no anger to work through, or issue to address, he just needed to burn off some physical energy to settle. She was out cold when he went to shower an hour later, didn’t move when he dressed and kissed her brow. Relaxed and sleeping deeply now she was home and comfortable. The kids sat for dinner wanting Sildie to join, but knowing she needed to sleep. Gustaf thought about waking her, the need for rest too important at this stage. He took the time to sit with them, to joke and laugh, get them back to a semi normal routine after a week of upheaval. Valter stayed for dinner and left once the twins were getting ready for bed. Gustaf was finishing up bathing Lily when his phone beeped.

I’m awake, need to pee.

Just getting Lily out of the bath.

No rush.

Getting Lily out of the tub he dried her off and dressed her for bed. Leaving her with Brendan he made his way into the bedroom to see Sildie sitting up on the side of the bed. “Good nap?”

“Still tired, but I’m hungry.”

“Bathroom then food. The soup is really good I had a cup before dinner.” He said helping her to the bathroom.

“Did I miss dinner?”

“Yes, but sleep is more important for you right now, they understand. No way was I waking you.” He chuckled. Stepping outside while she took care of business he smiled, she was looking better after her nap and her appetite was coming back. “All good things.” He sighed.

Helping her out to the dining table she sat as he heated up some soup and toasted some dark rye bread. The twins rushed over to her after their bath and sat while she ate telling her about everything that happened while she was in hospital.

“Sounds like I missed a lot of fun things.” She whispered.

“You did. Don’t get sick again.” Finn said grinning.

“Don’t plan on it kiddo.” She coughed. At least it didn’t sound like a death rattle anymore, Gustaf thought. “This sucks.”

“We missed you.” Liam said quietly.

“Missed you too. Come here love.” She pushed her chair out and pulled Liam into her lap, her body feeling the fatigue at the action. “Scared you huh?” He nodded and hugged her. “I’m sorry it scared you. Scared me too.”

“Are you really going to get better?” He mumbled.

“It’ll take a few weeks but yes, I’ll get better, lots of sleep and rest and food.” She smiled and bundled Finn to her. “I’ve missed you so much.” She murmured, kissing each twin on the head. “Bed time for you though.” She said and the boys groaned. “Back to a normal routine, you have school starting soon.” She chuckled and watched as they went to bed to wait for Gustaf to read to them. “Thanks for the soup B, it’s really good.”

“I made Kladdkaka as well, but dad doesn’t know yet.” He grinned, placing it on the table.

“I think he could use a slice.” She smiled at him, he was such a good kid, so much like his mother, considerate, kind.

“He was super scared.” Brendan said, getting another mug of soup for her and setting it on the table.

“I know love.”

“He hasn’t slept in a few days either.” The kid said keeping an eye on the twins door, he felt like he was ratting Gustaf out.

“We’ll have to make sure he gets a sleep in tomorrow, ok?”

“I’ll get Lily and the twins in the morning, you keep him in bed.” Brendan grinned. “As long as we can play games.”

“Oh I see how it is.” She scoffed slyly. “Sounds like a good plan, can you clean up a bit? Take the load off him a little more? I know we’re leaning on you a lot right now Brendan but...”

“It’s ok. We’re a family and we stick together, help each other out.”

“Yes we do, but I feel bad sometimes at how much I lean and depend on you.”

The teen shrugged. “You can’t do it all Mum.”

“No, I guess I can’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. Family, that means all of us.”

“I love you Brendan. Your parents would be so proud of you love.”

“I miss them and I want them here, but I love the family we have.” He said softly.

“Me too kiddo.” She winked as Gustaf came into the room, Brendan nodding.

“Night mum.” The teen smirked.

“Night love.”

“Night dad.” He hugged Gustaf hard.

“Night B, and thanks for the past few days.” Gustaf kissed the top of the teens head. One of those rare moments where his subconscious had taken over because he was so exhausted.

“You bet.” Gustaf slumped into the chair as the teen headed to bed.

“You need to finish your soup love.”

“You need to eat your Kladdkaka sweet man.” She tossed back. “I’m working on my second cup.” She watched him over the rim of the mug, so tired. Bone weary exhausted, the slump of his shoulders something she never wanted to see again. The smile that bloomed across his face seeing the chocolaty dessert in front of him with a fork across the top almost made her weep with joy.

“The kid doesn’t miss a thing does he?”

“Nope.”

“Like someone else I know.” He said with a tired smirk as he took a bite. “Damn that’s so good. Want some?”

“That’s all for you love. He made it just for you.”

“I feel like an ass for dumping so much stuff on him lately.” He said quietly.

“He gets it. It’s what we were just talking about. We’re a family, it’s what families do. That’s where his heads at. I’d call it progress to a year ago.”

“It sure is. I’m glad you’re home.” He smiled, it was wearily, but it was that one he only kept for her.

“I am too.” She finished off her soup and could see he was asleep on his feet, already drifting as he had another forkful, the sugar probably the only thing keeping him upright. “Would you help me to bed, come snuggle with me?”

“I need to tidy up before I go to bed.” He sighed.

She shook her head. “Leave it. There’s just a few dishes which can wait for tomorrow. Brendan said he’d get them.” And she knew the teen would.

“Let me lock up and get the dishwasher started at least.” He stood and collected her dishes, the soft kiss to her brow making her smile.

“Ok.” She wasn’t going to push, she didn’t have the energy to argue and he was too tired. Pick your battles, she thought. She watched him move around the apartment, home, this was a home, their home and damn had she missed it. He helped her with her nightly routine and took care of his own before laying beside her. “Time for me to take care of you.” She murmured and kissed him tenderly. Pulling him close she guided his head to rest in her lap, fingers stroking his scalp, soothing. “Sleep love, you’re exhausted.” His arms curled around her like a child holding onto his favorite teddy bear and she felt the shuddered sigh, knew the tears were right there. “I’m ok, sleep now.” As his silent tears fell she kissed his head, soothed and cared for him as best she could. “My sweet man, I love you so much.”

“Love you too.” He mumbled, sleep about to claim him hard.

“Rest now, your turn to sleep and rest.” She felt him go under, like every muscle in his body had released its hold on the world. Smiling down at him she let her own tears fall, relief she was home and recovering, guilt for putting that fear into him and the kids. Sleep claimed her eventually, the crushing exhaustion no match for her depleted system. She had no choice but to comply with her body’s wishes.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb @grimeundglow

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 20: A Line

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs. 

Rumple and Jefferson explore some boundaries.

Read on AO3

It was still raining as Rumpelstiltskin drove Mrs. Gold back to the pink house. She had dried off, in the hours since she had come into the shop and seen him standing too close to Jefferson. Her clothes had dried, but her attitude was still as stormy as the thunder and lightning in the sky.

That morning, the silence between them had been sullen, resigned. The silence of two people who couldn’t speak to each other, even if they wanted to. Now, Mrs. Gold’s side of the car crackled with unspoken hostility. If he looked at her closely, Rumpelstiltskin could almost see her trembling. Poor woman was fighting to keep silent, straining to keep herself from saying any words that would finally sever the last fraying threads of her marriage. 

Once the car was in the garage, Mrs. Gold burst through her door and bolted into the house. She didn’t even stop to pick up her shopping bags from the back seat. Walking around to her side of the car, he took as many of the bags as he could carry. There was one still left on the floor. He would have to come back for it.

He entered the kitchen just in time to hear her door slam shut upstairs. He sighed, and shook the rain off his coat.

Could he offer her an explanation? Would she care about what he had to say? Mrs. Gold already knew that there was someone else. He had told her Belle was a woman, but she had no reason to believe him about anything. Throughout all the years of the curse, Mrs. Gold had trusted her husband. She had trusted in his cruelty, in his rules, in his appetites. She may have been on her knees, but at least she knew where she stood. In only a few months, Rumpelstiltskin had destroyed that trust.   

He made dinner, wondered if she would come down to eat. When she didn’t, he brought a plate up to the guest bedroom and knocked on the door. 

“What?” Her ragged voice was at the exact midpoint between rage and despair.

“I brought you dinner,” he explained to the door.

“Leave it.” Even through the wood, he could hear her labored breathing. “Then go away. I don’t want to look at you.” 

Wincing, Rumpelstiltskin set the plate on the ground. Then he stood at the door a moment longer. He should say something. He should apologize. He should be kind to her.

But the longer he waited, the longer she didn’t open the door because she didn’t want to look at him, the more he understood. The kindest thing he could do for Mrs. Gold would be to leave her alone. She was allowing him to provide for her--taking his money, eating his food. She wouldn’t leave her room, as long as she thought it was safe.

He would make her feel safe. As best he could, at least.

Limping, he headed for the stairs. Halfway down, he heard her door open, and the china plate scraping across the floorboards. She had been listening for him, to make sure he was really gone. She had been listening for the tap of his cane.

He heard the door shut. And the metallic mechanism of a lock.  

Once, he had locked Belle in a library, in order to keep her burgeoning love for him from ever coming to life. Now Mrs. Gold was locking herself away, because any love she’d had for her husband had already suffered a messy, painful death.

With a heavy tread, he kept walking. 

****

In his study, Rumpelstiltskin sat down at Gold’s desk and poured himself a tumblr from a sky-blue bottle. Johnnie Walker Blue Label. The liquor was a dark, golden brown, but the glass bottle was the same color as Belle’s eyes. 

From his breast pocket, he took the paper where Jefferson had written his address and telephone number. He tossed it on the desk and stared at it. 

Jefferson. His truest friend. The only person he had trusted, before Belle. He hadn’t been the first man Rumpelstiltskin had taken as a lover, but he was the only one who had been just as pleasant company outside of the bedroom. They had gone on many adventures together, fetching items from different worlds, running errands for kings and empresses, sometimes getting richly rewarded, and sometimes barely escaping with their lives. Jefferson had always been loyal, brave, and clever. A good man to have by his side.

He could have loved him, if he hadn’t been such a fool. If he hadn’t kept the boy at a distance in a thousand tiny ways. If he hadn’t insisted that he leave him after every adventure. Jefferson would have lived in his castle, if Rumpelstiltskin had asked him to. Jefferson would have traveled with him forever, if he had ever indicated that he wanted to. They could have stayed together. If Rumpelstiltskin had thought that anyone could have loved him.

As it was, Jefferson had found Leona Ogg, a woman who never doubted that she could love and be loved. They had married, and had a daughter, and Rumpelstiltskin had wished them well--from a distance. From the lonely darkness that he knew was all he would ever deserve. 

Belle had changed that, of course. Too late for it to benefit Jefferson much. But now Belle was gone. And even Mrs. Gold didn’t want to speak to him. And Jefferson’s wife was in another world, alive but inaccessible. 

Jefferson had spent the past twenty-eight years alone in his house, spared from the curse, but unable to interact with anyone in Storybrooke. Finally, he had come to Rumpelstiltskin in need of a friend. 

Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t realized how much he’d needed a friend as well. 

He dialed the numbers on the black telephone on Gold’s desk. He emptied the glass and didn’t pour another. After a few rings, there was an answer. 

“This is Dodgson,” Jefferson’s voice said.

“Are you sure about that, dearie?” The alcohol had eased his tension, but talking to Jefferson had truly loosened him. Dropping the mask of being Mr. Gold felt like being able to breathe again.

Over the phone, Jefferson’s tone became softer, warmer. “Hello,” was all he said. One word, full of meaning. 

It wasn’t flirtatious. Flirting was asking a question. But these questions had already been asked and answered long ago. 

“Hello yourself,” Rumpelstiltskin answered. He heard his own voice as low and heavy, thick with want. 

“I’d like to continue the conversation we were having earlier. Are you free?”

“Magic always comes at a price. But for you, I am free indeed.” 

He heard Jefferson breathing into the phone. “Tonight?”

“I can leave right now. Your house?”

“I’d rather die,” the boy said quickly. “But come here to pick me up, and I’ll tell you where to go.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Rumpelstiltskin was already standing up. 

“Good.”

****

The rain had stopped by the time he got to the winding forest road where Jefferson lived. He was waiting in front of the driveway, leaning against a stone pillar, hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Rumpelstiltskin stopped the car and he got into the passenger side.

“Now follow this road for another two miles.”

Nodding, Rumpelstiltskin drove. “Where are we going?”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s the most interesting place in Storybrooke.”

Jefferson didn’t say more and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t ask. Unlike with Mrs. Gold, he could relax in the silence between himself and Jefferson. He knew the answers would come. He just had to be patient. 

“You know the town well?” he said after a while. There weren’t many turns on this highway, just woods and darkness. 

“I’ve had twenty-eight years to look around.” Jefferson stared out the windshield. “And six months to explore.” He sighed. “I tried to map it, you know. I tried to figure out the limits of this place. Find out if there were any… I dunno, weak spots.”

Trying to keep his eyes on the road, Rumpelstiltskin glanced over at Jefferson. “What did you find out?”

He scoffed. “If there was anything useful, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. There’s a spot over here where you can pull over.”

The tires crunched on gravel as Rumpelstiltskin parked the car on the shoulder. They were still in the forest. The road kept going on ahead of them. There didn’t seem to be anything interesting about this spot. 

No, there was one thing. 

“What’s that sign up there?” he asked Jefferson. They faced the back of a sheet of metal on a pole. “Do you know what it says on the front?” 

“‘Welcome to Storybrooke,’” Jefferson sneered. “Three of the most loathsome words in this world.” He opened the door and stood up. “Come on, Dark One, I want to show you around.” 

By the time he had gotten out, Jefferson was standing in the middle of the road behind the sign. Taking a deep breath, he began to walk forward. His pace was measured, careful. In the still night, Rumpelstiltskin could hear the boy muttering under his breath. 

Counting. 

“What are you doing?” he asked after a moment.

“Watch,” was all Jefferson would say. “It should happen any minute now. Thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty--FUCK!”

From out of the darkness, a deer came barreling down the road. It ran at full speed along the painted yellow stripes on the pavement. Head bent, antlers pointed, it was dead set towards Jefferson. 

With impressive agility, Jefferson swerved from his path in the center and raced back to the car. Once he was behind the signpost, the deer also changed course. It leapt into the brush along the roadside and--utterly unperturbed--walked back into the forest. 

Rumpelstiltskin looked over at Jefferson, who had braced his hands on the hood of the car. He was breathing heavily, but not too heavily to speak.

“I hate it when it’s deer,” he panted. “The moose and the bears just kind of stand there, being big and scary. But the deer are always on the attack, always out for blood.” Shaking his head, he straightened up and turned to Rumpelstiltskin with his arms spread wide. “So this is the town line, and that’s my parlor trick.” 

He stared. “You knew that would happen?”

“I knew something would happen. Animals are a pretty regular method. A few weeks ago, this road was a sheet of ice once you got past the sign. If we had come out here while the storm was still going on, a bolt of lightning wouldn’t have been out of the question. Or a fallen tree. Something like that.”

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing, so Jefferson kept explaining.

“It’s actually safer when you’re walking. Whatever happens will just kind of shoo you back to the town limits. In a car is where it gets really bad, I guess because you have a better chance of actually getting somewhere. You ever hear the locals call this the widowmaker highway?”  

“Mrs. Gold said something about that,” he nodded. He was beginning to understand. 

“Funny thing, that. If you look at, say, twenty-eight year’s worth of newspapers, you’ll see that no one has ever actually died on this highway. Lots of accidents. Lots of previous fatalities. Every family knows somebody who’s died here, sometime in the past. But no one has been killed on this road since October 23, 1983.”

“Of course not,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “The curse wants to keep people alive.”

“It wants to keep people inside,” Jefferson agreed. “Trapped like animals in a simulated habitat.” He made his way over to Rumpelstiltskin, leaned against the car next to him. “Nothing is real in this town.”

He had worn gloves against the chill. Black leather driving gloves. The headlights reflected against the rain brought out the dull sheen of them, especially contrasted with Jefferson’s gray wool coat when he put his hand on his arm. 

“You’re real,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I don’t know how you managed it, but you are.”

Jefferson looked down at the place where they touched. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, that’s the whole point of this world--this is the place where we only exist as stories. None of us are really real. We’re not supposed to be here, not walking and talking and--feeling.”

Rumpelstiltskin could only squeeze more tightly on the boy’s arm. Early in his own experience with immortality, he had spent a decade or two grappling with the potentialities of existence and non-existence. Whether or not anything could really be true. Whether or not actions actually had consequences. Whether or not every reality and every world he knew was nothing more than a grain of sand on an infinite, eternal beach full of other realities.

It was the sort of thinking that could drive one mad. 

“I tried calling the real world once,” Jefferson went on. “The world without magic. I found the phone number for a chartered plane service in Bar Harbor.”

“Where?”

“Bar Harbor!” Jefferson snapped. “It’s a town, in Maine. A real one. Unlike Storybrooke, it shows up on maps! I called the airport there--and I was just so happy to hear another voice. This was after things started changing. Before that, all the phones in my house were disconnected.”

Jefferson rubbed his hand over his eyes, his forehead. The poor boy looked so weary, so defeated. 

“I called. And I told the lady on the other end of the phone where I was, and that I wanted a plane to come get me. There’s over a hundred thousand dollars in cash in a safe in that house, I would have given it all and more besides. But the lady just laughed at me. She thought I was playing a prank. Because Storybrooke, Maine doesn’t exist! She’d never heard of it and it wasn’t in her database when she looked it up!”

He began to laugh, a wild, manic sound that could turn into sobs at any moment. “The next time I tried to call, I couldn’t get through! I called a hundred times one day and they’d never pick up!”

“Jefferson,” Rumpelstiltskin said softly.

But he couldn’t stop. “Then! I tried to rent a boat! Lots of boats in the harbor! I went to this grumpy drunk and gave him a thousand dollars to take his boat out for the day. It was a clear day--freezing, but not a cloud in the sky. I picked a direction and I just went. I motored out into the harbor until this town was just a speck in the distance.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. “I could see the open ocean in front of me. The horizon was limitless. It was beautiful. For one shining instant, I though I could go anywhere.”  

Then the boy shuddered. He curled in on himself, head between his hands as he nearly bent over double. 

“And then the fog rolled in,” he whispered. “One second you could see for miles, the next I couldn’t see past the front of the boat--the bow or aft or whatever it is. The next time I saw anything, I was back at the docks.”

“Jefferson,” Rumpelstiltskin said again. He put a hand on his shoulder, wished desperately that he didn’t have to use the other hand on his cane. Jefferson needed him, needed whatever strength he had. He couldn’t be crippled now.

He stroked his back. “Jefferson, my boy, I’m sorry.”

He looked up. His dark blue eyes glinted like steel. “You’re sorry?” Slowly, he registered Rumpelstiltskin’s hands on his body. He backed away. “You’re sorry?” he snarled. “Twenty-eight years of this hell and all you have to say is that you’re sorry?”

Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again. “We have all suffered, my boy. Do you know what the curse did to--”

“To you?” The edge in Jefferson’s voice was sharp and jagged. “Or to Belle? Yes, I know both. I know all about the proclivities of Mr. and Mrs. Gold.”      

“And I’ve had to live with that--”

“For six months! Oh boo hoo! It’s such a fucking tragedy that you’ve got a brain-dead bimbo begging you to fill her up in every hole!”

“Don’t.” Rumpelstiltskin spoke through his teeth to keep from shouting. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

For a second, Jefferson seemed taken aback. He looked at him, level and even. Appraising. When he spoke, the hostility had ebbed away. “You know I meant Mrs. Gold, right? Not Belle.”

Rumpelstiltskin unclenched his jaw. “Yes,” he said. He took a breath. “But even then… she is still a person.”

“No she’s not.” Jefferson turned away, to look up at the trees overhead. There were no stars in the sky, nothing but gray clouds. “Even if we’re real--if we were real back in our old world--the people in the town aren’t real. Not now.” He sighed. “Mrs. Gold isn’t any more real than Dodgson or Gold or little Paige Lewis.”

“Grace,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Your Grace.”

He nodded. “She has different parents now,” he said softly. “At least they love her. They’re giving her a good life. I watch her, every day.” Jefferson swallowed hard. “I do have you to thank for that.”

Rumpelstiltskin raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You remember the telescope you gave me and Leo? The magic one?”

“Of course.” The enchanted spyglass could see across distances and worlds, to focus on any single person at any time of day or night. In the old world, Rumpelstiltskin had adjusted it so that Jefferson and Leona would always be able to see Grace, and she would always be able to see them. “Did it come with you?”

A slow nod. Jefferson stood in the road while Rumpelstiltskin remained by the car. “It doesn’t have magic, but it’s still damned useful. I can see her, even if I can’t do anything else. I know she’s alive, I know she’s happy. At least I have that.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, and Rumpelstiltskin understood. 

“As for Leona...?”

Jefferson shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “Nothing. Not for twenty-eight years. I don’t know if she’s happy, if she’s safe, if she’s even still alive.” Tears brimmed in his eyes and ran down his cheeks as he looked at Rumpelstiltskin. “What if she’s grown old, Dark One? What if she’s outgrown me, forgotten me? What--what if she found someone else and got married again? I wouldn’t blame her for that. But what if she had other children? Her children could be older than I am now! What if Leo moved on and lived this full, rich life that Grace and I didn’t get to share with her? And what if I never know? What if I never see her again?”

He was sobbing now. The sound was a weary ache, an old wound that had never had a chance to heal. Jefferson, poor Jefferson, was giving voice to demons that had plagued him since the curse was cast. For twenty-eight years, his pain had festered in silence, in loneliness. There had been no one for him, the poor boy. Not a single human soul.

Until now. 

Despite the uneven, rain-soaked forest floor, Rumpelstiltskin hobbled over to his friend on his cane. He wrapped his arm around Jefferson. He let the man lean against him, and silently prayed that he would be strong enough for the task. He rubbed his back, while Jefferson moaned out his agony. 

“It’s all right,” he said, even though it wasn’t. “It will be all right, my boy.”

Jefferson didn’t answer, just shook his head and swayed to the rhythm of his sorrow. Rumpelstiltskin stood by him. He stayed, while Jefferson wept. He offered whatever support he could. The crying eased, though the pain would take far longer to abate. 

A drop of water landed on Rumpelstiltskin’s ear. Had that come from a tree branch, or was it starting to rain again? 

“Come on, my boy.” He shook Jefferson gently. “Let’s at least get into the car.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Jefferson managed to stand. He walked on his own to the side of the road. Opening the backseat door on the driver’s side, he slid across the red leather bench. There was plenty of room for Rumpelstiltskin.

He didn’t wonder why Jefferson had chosen to go to the back seat instead of the front, why he wasn’t in a hurry to drive out of the forest, what he expected to happen next. Those were questions that had been answered already.

Jefferson was waiting for him. He had wiped the tears from his face, but when he tried a smile, it was too shaky to be convincing. His back was pushed up against the far door. His long arms and legs tried to sprawl out, but the car was too cramped for that kind of thing. They would have to be close, if they were going to be there at the same time. 

Before he got in, Rumpelstiltskin took off his heavy coat and laid it over the front seat. He left his cane up there as well. He wouldn’t need it in such close quarters. When he took off his gloves, his wedding ring glinted faintly. 

He hadn’t fucked Jefferson since he had married Belle. There hadn’t been enough time. The curse was coming, and every moment he had he wanted to spend with her.

But Belle was gone now. 

And Jefferson was here.

Rumpelstiltskin sat down in the back seat of Gold’s car and shut the door behind him. 

They stared at each other for a moment, as best they could in darkness. Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t see Jefferson’s eyes, but he knew them well enough. He knew how they could darken as they filled with want. How he could gaze, unblinking, lips parted, waiting for the next move.

But this time he didn’t wait. Jefferson made the first move. He leaned forward with his hands outstretched. Rumpelstiltskin felt his fingers on his face. Then his palms on his cheeks. Then his mouth on his mouth.

Jefferson had always been free with his kisses. When they’d first started, that had been a shock for Rumpelstiltskin. Many of his lovers had held kissing as something altogether different than fucking. Something far purer, more sacred, more meaningful. They would offer every part of their bodies to every part of his--all except for the meeting of their mouths. That would be too much of a violation. Jefferson had never seemed to think kisses were that important.

Or maybe he did, and that was why he gave them so generously.

When they broke apart, Rumpelstiltskin held Jefferson by the back of his neck. “What are we doing?” he whispered. 

“Missing our wives,” Jefferson answered. Then he kissed him again. 

It was thrilling, even to be this close to another person. To feel his heat and his weight, to hear his breathing in his ears, to smell the scent of another man’s body--the cologne and the sweat and the unique essence of Jefferson. That hadn’t changed. Even after all this time. Even after marriages and curses and resentments--Jefferson tasted just the same. 

They began to touch. Shirts were pulled out of trousers. Buttons were undone. The boy’s body was so smooth, so firm, so strong. Jefferson’s hands started cold, but soon warmed on Rumpelstiltskin’s skin. Ties and scarves were cast aside. Rumpelstiltskin ran his lips over the scar on Jefferson’s neck, as he had done a hundred times, before the boy had started wearing the collar that marked him as Leona Ogg’s. The sigh Jefferson gave out at the sensation was the most erotic thing Rumpelstiltskin had ever heard in this world.         

“Hey,” Jefferson rested his large hands on Rumpelstiltskin’s shirtfront. He was more or less on top of the boy now. His suitcoat was draped over the front seat, his waistcoat was unbuttoned and hanging open. “Did I see what I thought I saw in that plastic bag?”

It took a moment for Rumpelstiltskin to understand what he was talking about. Then he saw the pale shape of a shopping bag on the floor of the backseat. Mrs. Gold had left it there.

“I have no idea what’s in that bag,” he answered.

Reaching down, Jefferson pulled it up and examined the contents. “Yep.” There was a smile in his voice. “Condoms and lube. You are hospitable as ever, Dark One.”

Rumpelstiltskin let out a breath. “Why did she buy all that? She knows I won’t use them.”

Jefferson looked up from the bag, a black paper box in his hand. “Not at all? Because this world isn’t like the old one. You really should--”

“Not on her,” he clarified. “I can’t touch Mrs. Gold. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“To Belle?”

“No.” He sat back, a little away from Jefferson. “To Mrs. Gold. It would be too cruel to her.”

There was a crisp rustle of plastic and paper, then the quieter movement of cloth. “If that’s cruelty, I hope you won’t mind being cruel to me.” 

“She doesn’t know who I am,” Rumpelstiltskin said simply. “You do.”

 In the darkness, he felt Jefferson’s body shift again, leaning against him. Deft hands undid his belt buckle. Strong arms lifted him up, for just long enough to pull down his clothes. Smooth fingers glided over his legs, his thighs. 

His cock.

“I know who you are.” Jefferson’s voice was soft as he stroked Rumpelstiltskin into beautiful hardness. “And you know who I am. You always have.”

He felt the needful, wet heat of Jefferson’s lips on the head of his cock. Then, in one skillful, fluid motion, the boy opened his mouth and swallowed him to the hilt.

“Oh, fuck!” Rumpelstiltskin moaned loudly enough that it echoed around the car interior. “Gods, boy! Give a man a bit of warning first!”

Without seeing him, Rumpelstiltskin knew that Jefferson was smirking when he came up. “You look different, but you feel the same in the dark. It’s been too long since I’ve done that to you. Or to anybody.”

Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin opened his eyes. “Have you had sex at all? In the past twenty-eight years?”

He shook his head back and forth between Rumpelstiltskin’s thighs. “Good thing I’m ambidextrous.”

“And I thought six months was bad.”

“We have each other now,” Jefferson said. “We may not have anyone else in this world, but we have each other. We have now.” He grasped Rumpelstiltskin by the shaft. “I have this. And I’m going to make the most of it.”

“Fuck.” Rumpelstiltskin threw his head back against the headrest while Jefferson set to his work. His hands felt for his body in the darkness. His bobbing head, his tense shoulders and arms, the sensitive shell of his ear. “You don’t have to,” he whispered. “I do like talking to you too.”

Jefferson came off his cock with a pop. “We can talk when I’ve got my cock in your ass. How about that, Dark One?” 

“Wait.” Rumpelstiltskin pushed him up. Jefferson went along, but his hands kept moving. “Don’t call me that, Jefferson, please.”

He was still stroking him. “You told me once that your name has power.”

“It does, but not here. Not in a land without magic. And besides, we’ve been through so much together. I think this is a power I can trust you to wield.”

Jefferson chuckled a moment, and looked down. One of his hands was still pumping back and forth along the length of Rumpelstiltskin’s cock. The other was gently cupping his balls, rubbing them ever so slightly. He placed a kiss on his groin, around the base of his shaft. 

“Alright,” he whispered. Then he gave him another kiss. “Rumpelstiltskin.”

The shudder began at the base of his spine. Perhaps there was a hint of magic in it. Emma had brought magic to Storybrooke, it was possible he was feeling it. Perhaps it was only that Jefferson was the first person to touch him since Mrs. Gold’s failed attempt to pleasure him on their anniversary. Perhaps it was that this was the first time he had heard his own name--his true name--in more than twenty-eight years.

“Again,” he breathed. “Please, my boy.”

Jefferson was moving faster now, his caresses were rougher. His voice was more sure when he said, “Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Oh fuck,” he gritted his teeth. He felt his body tighten. His hips jerked up erratically, but Jefferson was there. Jefferson was with him. Jefferson would make this so good, he always did. “One more time.”

It didn’t have to be three times, but it was such a nice number, and people expected this sort of thing.

Knowing what was coming, Jefferson clenched his grip into a choke-hold. He moved his face into the dim light coming through the car window.

Rumpelstiltskin could see the boy’s eyes as he looked at him. He could see his plump lips begin to form the word that would make him come undone. He could even see the smooth stretch of skin between Jefferson’s cheek and his nose and his mouth. That was where his semen would land.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” 

The name was a roar, and he roared back--hungry and desperate and heart sore but not now. Not in this moment. Now he had Jefferson. Now he had completion. Now he had peace and satisfaction. Now he could rest in oblivion.

He breathed. And he heard Jefferson’s breathing in the darkness. He collapsed against the leather seat, and Jefferson settled in beside him. Blearily, he felt the boy take his wrist and put his fingers to his face. Hot, sticky fluids dripped down Jefferson’s cheek. Moving Rumpelstiltskin’s hand for him, Jefferson coated his fingers in semen, then sucked them into his mouth.

“You’re delicious,” Jefferson murmured. “But this is very much why I said we should use a condom.”

Dazed from the intensity of his orgasm, at peace for the first time in months, Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. “You can put one on,” he sighed. “When you stick that massive cock of yours up my arsehole.”    

[snarkythewoecrow]

Okay I’m so obsessed with all your writing especially looking for normal! Idk if you’re interested in writing any more ~drug~ related stories but I think it would be really interesting to see Peter starting to abuse Adderall in order to study or finish college applications or something! Like if Peter was super jittery and on edge and Tony discovering the pills and just like all the angst pleaseeeeee

This was such an awesome prompt and came at the perfect time. I wrote this kinda fast and it might have errors, but I hope you like it. 

Trigger Warning for Addiction and Drug Abuse

Read on AO3

“Be right out,” Peter called over his shoulder towards the door of his room. Quicky, he shook out another pill from the bottle and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it down with a grimace. He stuffed the bottle back into his bag, shoving his hoodie on top and zipping the backpack closed.

Using Adderall had started simply enough. It wasn’t like Peter didn’t know where to get them. In a STEM school, a lot of kids used them to study, and it wasn’t like these were real drugs, not like heroin or speed. Okay, maybe they shared some molecular similarities to drugs like meth, but they were still different, and these were prescribed, just not to him. They were totally safe, though.  

That was what he told himself anyway.

Peter charged out the door to his room, slinging his backpack onto his shoulders and nearly tripping over his own feet. He was running late. Happy would be there any minute to pick him up to go upstate for the weekend. Tony had given him his room at the compound, and they planned to spend the next few days working on some projects and going over college choices, though Tony had already made his favorite known. He wanted Peter to attend MIT, just like he had. Peter hadn’t written the option off, but he wanted to stay closer to home if he could.

May peeked out of the kitchen and rolled her eyes as Peter patted at his hair, trying to tame it.

“You should really eat something before you go,” May said, wiping her hands on a towel and throwing it over her shoulder. “It’s a long ride.”

Peter’s brows went up, and he blinked. “Oh, yeah, maybe. I can just grab a granola bar or something.”

She shook her head and went back into the kitchen, appearing again a moment later with a brown paper bag. She held it out to him, and Peter smiled, walking over to her.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s just a tuna sandwich and a few Powerbars. I’m not going to responsible for you passing out. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how jittery you’ve been lately.”

Peter took the bag, looking inside. He grabbed a Powerbar and tore into it with his teeth. Truth be told, his appetite wasn’t that great since he’d started using Adderall, but he didn’t want to worry May. Taking a bite, he spoke around his mouthful. “Thanks, May.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Holding the Powerbar between his teeth, he dug out his phone. It was a message from Happy saying he was out front. He typed a quick reply, saying he would be right there, then stuffed his phone back into his pocket, took the Powerbar out of his mouth, and said goodbye to May.

The ride to the compound was quiet, and Peter used the time to work on his Physics homework. He had a lot to catch up on after a Spider-Man related injury took him out of school for three days last week. He’d finally been able to get most of his work caught up with the help of the pills. They allowed him to get into the zone and focus in a way he couldn’t otherwise.

It was like time was irrelevant when he was using them. He didn’t feel it pass. Everything around him blurred out, and he could give the project he was working on his full attention. It felt good, even if it made him a little shaky and his heartbeat a bit too fast, but that was only because Peter needed to use more than the average person. He could burn through twenty milligrams in an hour or two, so he had to keep popping them on the days he wanted to get things done.

But that had created even more of a problem, not that he would admit it.

When the drug wore off, he’d crash hard, feeling depressed and tired and like his body was moving through cold molasses. Another pill always made the feeling go away, but he didn’t have an endless supply, and they cost a lot of money.

He didn’t like to think about it, but he’d used some of the money Tony had given for his college fund to buy them. It wasn’t like it made a dent in the account. The saving account had an obscene amount of money in it. Peter had always thought that what he didn’t use for college, he would donate to charity. Using it for drugs made Peter feel a little sick, but he reasoned that buying the Adderall did go towards his future. They ensured he could study and get good grades.

He finished the last of his homework as the car pulled through the gate at the compound. The Adderall Peter had taken at home before he left had already worn off, but that was fine because he’d gotten a bottle of sixty just the other day, so he had plenty.

Peter didn’t stop at this room. Instead, he went straight to the workshop, backpack over his shoulder.

The door to the workshop opened with a whoosh, and Peter winced at the loud music. When he stepped into the room, Friday lowered the volume, and Tony straightened from the workbench he was stooped over, bracing his back with a hand and stretching. He turned to Peter and smiled.

“Hey, kid.” Tony wiped his hands off on his jeans. “Got an engine from one of my babies taken apart, doing a rebuild. I could use your hands if you want to help.”

Peter’s gaze flitted over the tools and parts. His knowledge of engines was all academic, nothing hands-on, but he was willing to learn. “Sure, I just need to, um—” He motioned to the bathroom.

Tony waved toward the shelf. “Grab one of the welding helmets on your way back. You’ll need it.”

Peter nodded, jogging toward the bathroom, but Tony’s voice made him stop.

“You know you can leave your bag here, right? Just saying, might be easier, but what do I know?”

Peter’s mouth twitched, and his grip tightened on the strap over his shoulder. He’d wanted to take another Adderall before they started working, but he couldn’t do that with Tony watching. Forcing a smile, he said, “Right, yeah, what was I thinking?”

He tossed his bag into one of the chairs and walked off to the bathroom.

When he got out, he grabbed a helmet like Tony had asked and went to stand beside him.

“Ever weld before?” Tony asked, his own helmet flipped up.

“No?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

Peter blinked. “I tried it in shop class last year, but it didn’t go well. I may have started a fire.”

Tony’s eyebrows lifted, and Peter rushed to explain.

“A small fire, barely counted as a fire, really, and I may have dropped some molten metal on my shoe, but it was fine.”

“Put your helmet on.” Tony nodded at it. “I’ll explain what I’m doing, and then you can try, and we’ll try to avoid any fires or close calls with death.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Sure, kid.”

Peter watched Tony, trying to listen and focus, but the heavy feeling he didn’t like was seeping into his bones. He was starting to crash, and it made it so hard to focus. After watching for a little while, Tony gave him the tools and guided him on how to start. He didn’t start any fires, but he didn’t do that good of a job. Where Tony had welded what looked like a neat row of stacked dimes, Peter had burned through the metal and left globs all over.

He was just about to try again when the welder turned off. Peter set the tools down and flipped up his mask to look at Tony, who had taken his off.

Running a hand through his hair, Tony shook his head and then leaned his hip against the workbench. ”Is everything all right? Are you getting enough sleep? Enough to eat, all the good things like that?”

Peter took his helmet off and set it on the workbench. He wiped his brow, frowning a little. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“It just doesn’t seem like you’re fully switched on today. You don’t seem too excited to be here right now.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, no. I’m really happy to be here. I loved learning about welding and stuff, but yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m having an off day. It’s nothing big, though. I guess I didn’t sleep that well.”

Tony nodded a few times, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, well, how about we call it quits and grab some food. We can try again tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

Peter was really feeling the crash by the time they finished dinner, so he retired to his room, skipping their traditional Friday night movie. Tony seemed disappointed, but Peter felt too awful to stay awake any longer. He’d only had two Adderall that day instead of the four he usually took. It seemed the lack of his usual dose was leaving him feeling crappier than usual.

Thankfully, he was able to sleep, and when he woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was take two pills. He didn’t usually do that unless he had to study because it made him jittery, but he was afraid of feeling crappy again. He craved the rush and the way they sharpened his thoughts, adding clarity to his thinking. He wanted to make up for his off day yesterday and show Tony how well he could do.

After showering and getting dressed, he went to the kitchen to find Tony. He was dressed and making breakfast. Peter didn’t feel hungry at all, though, not in the slightest. Whenever he took two pills at once, he almost had an aversion to food.

The smell of the eggs cooking made Peter’s nose wrinkle.

“Morning, Pete,” Tony said, lifting the pan and scrapping some scrambled eggs onto a plate. “Friday said you were up. I made eggs, and not to brag, but I even added cheese without burning them.”

Peter tried to smile even though the last thing he wanted to do was eat. He took a seat at the breakfast bar, and Tony set a plate down in front of him. He tried to hide his grimace, but Tony must have noticed the look when he turned to pass Peter a fork.

“Why do you look like you’d rather gnaw off an arm than eat my masterful creation?” He stepped around the counter and pressed the back of his hand to Peter’s cheek, then his forehead as Peter tried to worm away. “You don’t feel warm.”

Peter’s knee began to bounce as the pills started to really hit his system. He grabbed his fork and stabbed some of the eggs. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Having another off day? Did you sleep okay?”

Peter sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw shut for a second before speaking. His temper was always touchy after he’d taken a double dose. “I’m really fine. I’m not sick or anything. I slept good. Really, everything’s good, Mr. Stark.”

Tony crossed his arms, eyes raking over Peter before he nodded and went to eat his eggs.

After breakfast, Peter followed Tony to the workshop, but today he had planned better. In his pocket were four more pills, enough to keep himself going until bed plus some.

Tony had Peter weld again, and this time he did much better, though his hands were a little shaky. If Tony noticed, he didn’t say anything. When the high started to wear off, Peter excused himself to the bathroom and took two more pills. He normally didn’t take so many in a day, but he really didn’t want to crash around Tony again.

The only problem was that it made Peter jittery and on edge, his temper shorter than usual. The slightest things grated on his nerves, like how Tony kept rocking his coffee cup back and forth on the workbench. It was the only sound Peter seemed to be able to hear, and it was driving him over the edge. The rush he’d gotten from the pills today wasn’t a good one. He shouldn’t have taken so many, and now he was paying the price.

His heart rate was too fast, and Tony wouldn’t stop rocking his cup back and forth, the clock kept ticking on the wall, and before he knew it, the pencil he was holding snapped, making everything in the room come to a halt.

Tony looked over at him, eyes dropping to the broken pencil in his hand. He lifted his gaze to Peter’s eyes, brows raised in question.

“Pete?”

Peter swallowed, setting the broken pencil on the table. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s—”

“Fine,” Tony finished for him. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” The man frowned as he looked at Peter’s hands, which were gripping his thighs so tight the tips of his fingers were white. “Let’s try this again, and this time, why don’t we try the truth.”

Peter bit his lip, rubbing his hands on his jeans, his knees bouncing. He nodded a few times quickly. “Okay.”

Tony studied him for a few seconds, then scratched at his goatee. “You know, if I didn’t know you like I did, I’d say you’d were on something right now.”

Peter tensed. ‘I’m not—I didn’t take anything.”

“Kid, relax. You’re going to vibrate off the stool. I know you wouldn’t.”

Peter immediately felt guilty. He hated lying, and here he was, doing it straight to Tony’s face. He tried to settle himself down, but he was on edge. “It’s nothing, really, Mr. Stark.”

“So you’ve said.” Tony shook his head, looking at the wall behind Peter before fixing his gaze on him. “You didn’t sneak a Red Bull again, did you?”

“Uh, no,” he said too quickly, then corrected with a lie. “I mean, yes. I did. I had two. I know I’m not supposed to, but I didn’t want to be tired.”

The lie tasted like ash on his tongue.

Tony sighed. “Well, let’s finish up what we’re doing, and then we can grab some lunch. Hopefully, that freaky metabolism of yours will burn through it soon.”

After lunch, Peter started to crash hard. His body felt heavy and tired, and everything ached. His thought felt caught in a thick soup. They were supposed to go back to the workshop, and Peter didn’t want to be tired again, so before he left the kitchen, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the pills. His hand hesitated over the pills as he decided how many to take. He was so caught up in his thought that he didn’t hear Tony approach until he cleared his throat, making Peter jump and nearly drop the pills.

Tony’s sharp gaze was cutting through him, his expression unreadable, and Peter knew he was caught, but he still tried to hide his handful of pills behind him.

“Mr. Stark,” he croaked, shaking a little. “I was just coming down to meet you.”

Tony’s mouth twitched downward, and then his eyes fell to Peter’s hand. “Whatcha got there, Pete?”

Peter’s hand tightened around the pills, and he swallowed. “Um, these?” He lifted his hand without opening it. “These are just, um, vitamins. Yeah, they’re, uh, vitamins to help me focus.”

Tony’s shoulders fell, and he seemed to deflate. Closing his eyes for a second, he took a breath and then looked at Peter again. “God, help me. You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not—”

“Ah.” Tony put up his hand. “The adult is talking.”

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled, looking down. His palms were starting to sweat, and he imagined the pills were getting gross clenched in his hand. “I’ll be quiet.”

“What are they, Peter? And don’t lie because you know I will figure it out.”

Peter looked down at his feet and mumbled the answer.

“I didn’t quite catch that. Try again,” Tony said, tone softer than Peter deserved.

“It’s—they’re Adderall.” And Peter chanced a look at Tony, whose expression was tight. Peter couldn’t hold his gaze, so he looked away. The pills in his hand felt heavier than they should. He regretted everything. He wished he could go back in time and punch himself for being so stupid and buying them in the first place.

Tony sighed, then said, “Are they yours? Are they prescribed to you?”

Peter shook his head.

“Yeah, this is—fuck, Peter.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears pricked at his eyes, and he sniffled. “It just happened. They helped with studying, and then—I don’t know. I just—I just lost control. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“You mean you didn’t intend to get caught.”

Peter��s head snapped up, his head shaking. “No, I mean, yeah, getting caught sucks, but I really didn’t mean to get—to get … addicted.” The last word was a whisper, but Tony heard him because his eyes softened, and he rubbed his jaw.

“I wanted you to be better than me.” Tony breathed. “I went down this road, maybe not with Adderall, but with other drugs. Addiction is an asshole that will never leave you alone once you’ve met. This is going to be a part of you for the rest of your life, kid. I just wanted better for you.”  

“I really am sorry.”

“I know.” Tony nodded.  “We’re gonna start with you handing over whatever you got there and anything else you brought, then you’re going to sit and watch TV while I figure out the next step. I don’t want this to ruin your life, Peter.”

“Do we have to tell May? She’ll kill me.”

Tony gave him a look, eyebrows raised and head tilted to the side. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Tony held out a hand, wiggling his fingers, and sighing, Peter unclenched his fist and placed the pills in Tony’s hand. It felt terrible and relieving to hand them over. He wouldn’t be able to relieve the crash or get that rush again, but he also didn’t need to worry anymore. He’d gotten in over his head, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like he was drowning.

Tony stuffed the pills into his pocket and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. It might not feel like it right now, but we’ll figure this out. Let’s get the rest of these pills taken care of. Then we can talk some more.”

Peter nodded and led Tony to his room. He dug the bottle out of his bag and passed them to Tony.

Examining the bottle, Tony said, “This why you wanted to bring the backpack into the bathroom?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Tony hummed. “Do I want to know how you afforded them?”

Tears welled in Peter’s eyes. He knew he had to tell Tony, but he didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face when he said the words. Taking a breath, he said to the floor, “College savings. They didn’t even ask why. They just let me take the money out.”

Tony sighed, putting the bottle in his pocket. “Yeah, I can honestly say I never thought to put restrictions on your account.”

Tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks. He swiped at them with his sleeve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Then Tony was there, pulling him to his chest, and Peter buried his face against his neck.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You made a mistake. It happens to the best of us. I can solidly say to some more than others. Like how I spent most of the nineties making shitty decisions.”

That just made him cry harder for some reason. Everything felt like too much. Sobs wracked his frame, and everything he had held in, all the lies and half-truths, they poured out as tears. Tony pressed his lips to Peter’s hair and murmured nonsense about how it would be all be okay, but how could it be. He screwed up so badly.

When Peter’s tears tapered off, Tony gave him a squeeze and then pulled back to look at him. “Okay, let’s get you settled.” He swiped a tear from Peter’s cheek with his thumb. “I need to do a little research and make a few calls, but you’re gonna be all right, kiddo. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you.”

Peter felt anxious about what the future held. He wasn’t ready to confront May, and he didn’t know if he could survive without feeling that buzz of energy again, but he felt reassured. As long as he had Tony to guide him, all he needed to do was follow. Even if he didn’t know the path, Tony did, so he knew he would make it back from this okay.

[writingsbychlo]

more ways than one (05)

word count; 5015

summary; the pressure of looking after everyone else all becomes too much, and you snap, but there’s someone there to look after you this time.

notes; make sure to check the warnings for any triggers!

warnings; vivid descriptions fo panic attacks, major anxiety references, mentions of death and threats.

It had been a while since you’d had a chance to go back and see the man you were hiding away. You knew he’d be okay, you’d stocked up the house with snacks, over the past few weeks you’d taught him how to cook basic meals for himself. He seemed to be going through the books lining Derek’s shelves faster than you would have imagined, but then again, he had to fill his days with something.

He was catching on fast. Fast enough that you knew he’d be perfectly fine alone for a week, but you didn’t feel good about the amount of time that had passed. You had spent what had remained of the summer break visiting every day, or every other day in the minimum, and as soon as school had come back, things had caught up. Your studies were fine, but yet another supernatural threat was pressing down on you all, and now there was someone hunting down supernatural creatures around Beacon Hills, almost all of your friends at risk.

A week. A week had passed since you’d last been to visit, and you feared for the mood the man would be in when you returned. He’d opened up to you, enough to have small conversations here and there, but you hadn't progressed much further after his session with answering your questions all those weeks ago. Derek had called, extending his trip with Cora until Christmas, and so a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders in that you didn’t have to find him somewhere new to stay. 

One less thing for you to worry about. 

You had spent the day with the pack, running over scenarios and situations as you tried to find results, only to come up with dead ends. You were at the end of your tether, there was nothing you could do. As a human, you were for once the safest in the group, you and Stiles not being hunted, and yet everyone else was. You hated it, you hated how useless you felt, and you couldn't even bring yourself to hide the frown on your face when you unlocked the sliding door to the loft and entered the large space. 

The sound of a thick book snapping shut and stiff material creaking under the movement of a heavy weight greeted you, and you found V popped up on his elbows, a book sitting on his chest as he peered at you from the couch, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed on you.

“Thought you might not come back this time.” 

His voice was low, and you let out a deep sigh, shaking your head and running a hand through your hair as you dropped your bag from your shoulder down to your hand, carrying it over to the couch with you. He moved his legs as you made to sit down, swinging them over the edge of the sofa and making room for you to sit down beside him. You flopped back into the cushions, turning your head to look at him and he raised his eyebrows curiously, placing his book down and sitting up fully, enough to scoot closer to you across the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“I’m not going to leave you, I’m just overwhelmed at the moment.” He hummed in response, before picking his book back up and opening it to it’s place. You weren’t sure what you had expected, he wasn’t well-adjusted yet, and you weren’t exactly seeking comfort, but you’d expected a little more from him than just being ignored as he went back to his book. 

Digging through your bag, you pulled out your notebook and placed it on the table, open to the page with all the notes you and Stiles had scribbled down while working through problems earlier. However, no matter how many times you went through your bag, you couldn't find the pen you had been using, and suddenly, you could see it in your mind’s eye, tucked behind your best friend’s ear where he’d placed it before picking up the phone when Scott had called.

You let out a loud sigh, cursing under your breath and tossing your bag aside, dropping your head into your hands for a second and growling under your breath, the noise muffled by your palms, but still perfectly audible to the man you sat with.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You hadn't meant to snap, and he looked taken aback by your outburst, his brows furrowing as his lips twisted down in a frown, your jaw tensing as you dragged your eyes away from his in guilt, searching across the room and finding a pent sitting on the stacks of books, next to a journal you’d left him a while ago to practice learning to write with, and he followed your gaze to it. 

Picking up the instrument, he slammed it down on the table before you, nimble fingers pulling back as he jerked away from you like you were a flame that had burned him. “All you had to do was ask.”

The comment made you want to shout again, anger and frustration from the day bubbling up inside of you, and your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your rage, instead trying to work through the issue before you, trying to work out the passwords for the list of prices and names for those being hunted. 

The evening continued much the same, as the hours passed on you found everything becoming too much. You were stressed, and overly tired, days of barely sleeping taking it’s toll on you as your tether wore thin. Everything from the scraping sound of the paper each time he turned the page, to the sound of Derek’s obnoxiously large clock ticking away was making you even more irritated. 

His leg had been bouncing, twitching like Stiles’ would and you’d told him to stop, you’d told him to move up because he felt too close to you, and now he was sitting on the floor. He’d accommodated every silly whim you’d presented him with, and yet you still couldn’t help the growl that came under your breath as his fingernails absentmindedly scratched at the denim of his jeans as he read his book. It all became too much, and you slammed a fist down onto the table, everything a top it rattling as he jumped and looked up at you.

You were fixing him with a hard glare, and for this first time tonight, and in a long while, he fixed you with the same chilling look that had been his default expression when you’d first saved him. “What now?”

His teeth had been gritted as he spoke, and you scoffed at his attitude, shaking your head and crossing your arms as you looked at him. “You’re making this scratchy noise. It’s annoying me.”

“Everything I do seems to be annoying you, tonight.” You grumbled at his comment, pinching the bridge of your nose and you heard him hum to himself, flicking the page of his book extra loudly in protest. “If it’s so awful being here, why don’t you just leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave. I didn’t ask you to be here. I’ve been perfectly fine alone, in all the days you didn’t have time for me.” He muttered the final words, and your eyebrows shut up, getting to your feet and placing your hands on your hips, trying to intimidate him as you towered over him but he got to his full height, and suddenly you were looking up at him as he glared down at you, now feeling much smaller than you did a second ago. 

“This is my friend’s place, I’m looking after you! You should fucking leave!”

“And go where? I didn’t ask you to save me! If I’m so much of a burden to you then you should have left me for dead!” The comment made you swallow down thickly, but electricity was zapping through the air with each comment thrown in raised voices and angry shouts between you both, and the fire burning in his eyes only fuelled you on, no matter how much you knew you may regret your words.

“Maybe I should have! It would be a lot fucking easier for me!” His eyes darkened as he looked at you, jaw sealed shut before he schooled his face into a more neutral expression, and his ability to wash your emotions away only added wood to the burning rage within you.

“Do you really want me to leave?”

“I want you to get out of my fucking face is what I want!” You dropped back down onto the couch, hearing him huff out a ‘fine’ as he moved around the room, and you watched him go, shaking your head and rolling your eyes as he dramatically pulled open the loft door, leaving it ajar as his footsteps sounded on the stairs, disappearing into silence as he left.

A cold breeze swept in, cooling your fiery temper, and you shivered to yourself, the room suddenly feeling much larger with just you in it, and you felt increasingly more lonely as you looked around. Stretching out your muscles, you made your way over to the door, sliding it shut just enough to keep the coldness of the night out, and you felt guilty, knowing that the man had stormed out barefoot in just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

Your attention turned back to that of trying to solve your benefactor issues. Your mind was spinning, your stomach grumbling, and after another half an hour of wavering focus and drifting thoughts, you resigned yourself to making food. It wasn’t until halfway into your prep of the meal that you realised you had accidentally been making enough for two, instinct having taken over, and you sighed as you dished up your own, before leaving the other half int he fridge as leftovers. 

Eating along gave you time to think about what you’d done, and you stabbed at the meal, eating slowly on rapidly cooling food as your appetite dwindled, replaced by nauseating guilt that twisted sickeningly in your guts. You washed the dishes and placed them on the rack, hiding in the kitchen, hoping that if you hung out in there long enough, that when you came back through, V would be back, scowling at you from his seat on the couch. 

In a bid to occupy your mind, you made your way back to the couch, curling in on yourself as the thin blanket that kept you warm was no longer providing warmth, instead, leaving you feeling as though you were going to catch as chill, and over an hour had passed by since your friend had left, someone you had pushed away instead of letting in, and tears welled in your eyes as you thought about your other friends.

The words on the page seemed to blur the longer you looked at them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, a heavy and hot tear dripping down onto your cheek, and you were quick to wipe it away. You slammed the notebook shut, pulling your legs to your chest and burying your face in your knees, willing back the tears threatening to spill. You were clinging to yourself, rocking back and forth as the silence of the room took over, and you felt like you were sinking, drowning, entirely alone. 

You made the split decision to get up, your body barely reacting in time with your movements as you stumbled to your feet, sniffling and blinking back tears as you dragged the door out of your way, not even bothering to close it again before you were searching the building, top to bottom in a weak hope that you may find the man hiding out somewhere as he waited for you to calm down, but you had no such luck. You searched through the outside, wandering so far away from the main building that you had to use the torch on your phone to just find your way, shivering violently by the time you returned alone. 

Your skin was cold to the touch, coated in goosebumps from raised hairs as your teeth chattered, and your arms were wrapped tightly around your own body. The only warmth you had was from the tears slowly tracking down your cheek as you cursed to yourself, rubbing at your nose and your eyes, skin sore from salty tears you’d released. 

Your breath felt like you were gasping by the time you were stumbling back into the loft, your heart racing, beating almost painfully hard against your ribs, though everything felt like it was in slow motion. You felt weak, your body giving way beneath you as you sobbed, clawing at your chest to pull breaths in, and you couldn’t find a blanket for the life of you. You knew Derek had them here, and your hands were shaking, so much so that as you searched through the boxes and drawers you were practically ripping them from their shelves, leaving them turned over as things clattered to the ground. 

You couldn’t save your friends.

You couldn't save one person you found in the street.

You couldn’t even save yourself.

Your knees hit the floor painfully loud, the thud sounding through the room as your hands laced into your hair, tugging at the roots form your stress as you collapsed to the floor, everything around you seeming to blur away as your oncoming panic attack gave you struggles to even breathe, to wound up to even be able to see your surroundings anymore.

It was too much, you were just one person, you were a teenager. Your main concern should be what to wear to prom, whether you would have a date and which colleges to apply to. Every morning you woke up you lived with the constant fear that today may be your last day, that you may have to hold one of your friends as they died and that you may not be able to do anything to help them, that you may lose someone else.

Your phone lay across the room from you, and a brief thought of clarity to call Stiles, or Lydia or Scott, to call any of your friends flashed through your mind but it was dead, too far to reach in your weakened state and drained of battery from being used as a torch even if you did manage to reach it. It felt like everything was against you as your vision faded from the lack of oxygen you were getting into your lungs, your mind spinning on loops, making you feel both sick and dizzy. 

Your body curled in on itself on the cold concrete of the loft floors, a chill sweeping across your skin, and you could barely focus when you turned, finding yourself on your back and staring at the high ceilings. A hand found the back of your head, honey brown eyes peering into your own as you were scooped further up. He was kneeling beside you, legs flooded under himself as he lifted you up a little, and your hands found fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer but simultaneously pushing at his chest.

“Y-Y-You left! You a-actually left!” Your words were stuttered out, and he ran a hand over your cheek, eyes wide as he gaped, no idea how to help you, and so in spite of all your struggling, he simply pressed your cheek into his chest, holding you tight to him as you tugged on his shirt. “There are n-no b-blankets, and y-you left!”

“You told me to leave!”

“I didn’t r-really want y-you to!” Your words didn’t make sense, and instead, you just pushed your face into his neck, sobbing into his skin as he held you close. He was stiff and tense, but his arms were wrapped around you and you were clutched to him tightly. 

Eventually, he moved, scooping you up under your legs and holding you tightly to him, his legs a little shaky as he carried you over to the couch, settling back into the cushions with your body still wrapped tightly around him. 

When your sobs calmed a little, his fingers brushed over your arm, soothing you with the patterns until your fingers undid from his shirt, sitting flat on his chest, one pressing over his heart, feeling it pump steadily under your palm, and your head was cushioned against his shoulder when you pulled back enough to get fresh air. 

“You told me to leave.”

This time when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, and you swallowed thickly, sucking your lower lips between your teeth and nibbling on it for a moment. You opened your mouth, willing yourself to reply, but only a broken sob left you, your eyes dry as you were all cried out, but sadness once again surged your system. 

He squeezed you tightly once again, his hands stilling, fingers spreading out wide as he held you. “The blankets are stacked in a box beside the door.” You let out a weak laugh, raising your head just enough to look at him, and his lips flicked up at the corners. “You were talking to yourself.”

He shifted you to lie you down on the couch, a yawn on your lips as he padded across the room, fishing out one of the familiar knitted blankets you recognised so well, before he was making his way back over to you, tucking it around your body carefully. He took a seat beside you, and you shuffled, resting your head on his thigh as you let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing as you finally relaxed. “Y’know, I’m supposed to be the one saving you.”

His response was whispered to you, sleep already taking you over as you warmed back up and relaxed happily, one of his hand’s lifting up just enough to settle delicately on his own legs beside your head, his fingers sweeping over your cheekbone. “Maybe we save each other.”

Sleep soon took you over, and you drifted off with the feeling of fingers brushing through your hair, tucking stray strands behind your ears until you were drifting off into unconsciousness, a well-needed sleep. Your body refused to wake until the sun was beginning to peek up over the horizon once again, almost ten hours having passed you by when pale colours were painting the skies as a new day was ushered in.

You jolted upright when the fog over your mind cleared, finding yourself jerkily rising up. There were indents in your cheek from where you’d slept, the man slumped uncomfortably, half keeled over as he dozed, and he slumped further down into the cushions once you left, the weight distribution changing as he huffed in his unconsciousness and rolled over. 

You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders, smiling to yourself as you looked down at the man, draping the soft woollen material over his body. Crouching beside him, your fingers brushed the hair from his eyes, and he pushed his face into your touch sleepily, your hand pulling back rapidly when his eyes opened, fluttering just enough to peer at you tiredly.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be back this afternoon.” His lips flicked up at the sides, and he opened one eye fully to look at you, the other closed, and if you weren’t mistaken, there was an almost cheeky glint in his opened eye. 

“Promise?”

You huffed out a laugh, nodding your head. “Yeah, I promise.” You told him about the food you’d left for him, and he nodded, soon drifting back off to sleep, your keys in your hand as you tried to shake yourself off for the drive home. 

When you got home, you had taken a shower and changed your clothes, plugging your phone onto charge before getting yourself some breakfast, before calling Stiles to check in with him. He updated you on their progress, because apparently, they had all been working all night too, and had made a little new progress with which or update you on. There were three lists in total, a second banshee from Eichen house had been recruited to assist, and you jotted down everything else, a hand running through the tangles in your hair. 

You packed a bag, collecting up some books and a spare charger to leave at Derek’s another hoodie that Stiles had left at your house and forgotten about that you could wear for now, and give to V later on.

Something had shifted between the two of you, something radical had moved between now and last night, having fallen asleep with the man, letting him ease you back from a panic attack, the air surrounding you both felt different. You were almost anxious on the drive back to see him, your fingers tapping against the wheel as you sat outside for a good while, before eventually shaking yourself down for your unnecessary fears, grabbing your bag from the back of your car and taking them up to the oft with you, choosing to prolong your time by taking all of the stairs, giving yourself a chance to talk.

When you opened the door, you found him looking over his own shoulder, back to the mirror hung up on the wall as he tried to reach his cuts, his shirt in a puddle on the floor, and his head whipped around to look up at you as you closed the door. He fixed you with a bright smile - almost dazzling - upon seeing your return to him. 

Your anxiety slipped away, and you raised a brow, watching as he bowed at the waist to scoop up his shirt and tug it back over his head. You waved the bag at him, showing him the contents, and his eyes lit up as he spied the collection of books hidden within. 

“You brought me books?”

“I brought you the Harry Potter books. They’re very good, and I love them, so don’t fold the pages. I also brought you a bookmark.” You dropped the bag down onto the couch, and he lingered a few feet away from you, and an oddly comfortable silence falling between the two of you. You weren’t sure whether to speak about what happened the night before, or whether to leave it, whether you should thank him again or not. 

He broke your train of thought, the wringing of your hands that you hadn't realised you were doing came to a pause as he spoke. “I ate the food that you left.”

“You worked out how to use the microwave?”

“That what?” The two of you were staring at each other with furrowed brows, and your lips parted, silence settling between the two of you, your heart clenching for him when you realised he must have just eaten it cold, and you made a mental note to teach him how to reheat food, later. Your phone rang, the shrill sound of Stiles’ particular ringtone snapped you from your thoughts, and you fumbled into the pocket of your hoodie to find it. 

“Hey Sti, what’s up?” 

The man across from you stood quietly, moving forward to pick up one of the books, and Stiles took off in an explanation about a breakthrough they had found, the smile dropping from your face as you listened to him. Tapping the front cover of ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’, he took that one, giving you time to talk as he settled on the couch, and you shot him a  reassuring smile, before wandering away into the kitchen for some privacy as the joyful expression dropped from your face. 

What had felt like a vacation for a very short while, a brief period of happiness, was once again coming crashing down around you. They had passwords to unlock the lists, and your foot tapped against the floor as he updated you on new information that had come to light. At some point, your feet had just felt too heavy underneath you anymore, and so you were leaning against the counter, your body shaking as you listened to Stiles read off the names of your friends, and who was worth how much. 

He promised you it would be okay, that you were all doing the best you possibly could to do protect them. You suppressed the sob that wanted to rise in your throat, telling your best friend just how utterly powerless you felt, and he did his best to reassure you. Once he had hung up, you placed the phone down beside you, covering your face with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembled. 

You weren’t sure how long you were stood there, nor how loud your phone conversations had been, but you didn’t lift your head again until your name was called from the doorway of the kitchen. You were shocked, he’d never used your name before, you knew he may have caught it from the conversations you’d had, and because you’d never formally introduced yourself, you were surprised he’d learnt it at all. 

He had a hand on the top of the kitchen doorframe, practically filling the space as he looked at you carefully, and you wiped under your eyes, smiling carefully and pushing your phone into your back pocket after lifting it from the counter. You avoided his eyes, clearing your throat of the lump that had formed, before wiping your clammy hands on your oversized hoodie. 

“How far into the book did you get? End of the first chapter yet?”

Your eyes barely flicked up to his as he ignored your words, taking a step towards you before you were looking up again. Your eyes were lined with tears again, and his shoulders slumped as his brows raised, expression morphing into that of a silent question and you swallowed thickly. 

“My friends are going to die and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, and he closed the gap between you both, one arm wrapping around your body as the other cupped the back of your head pulling you into him softly. Your knees all but buckled from the compassion he offered you, and you’d been held like this by Stiles many-a-time, but something with V was different, it was more, and you couldn’t tell why. 

It wasn’t a burning warmth or a consuming passion, but instead, it was simply a flicker of possibility, the idea that maybe he would come to mean something to you.

He held you up, for as long as he could, before his hands were once again scooping up under your legs to lift you up, and a weak laugh left you, fighting through the tears as deja vu washed over you. He sat down, placing you down beside him, his arm wrapped low around your waist, your legs across his lap as your cheek pressed into his shoulder. His free hand came up, carefully wiping your cheeks free of the tears flowing from your eyes. 

He didn’t ask, he didn’t make you talk, not once.

Instead, he held you, picking up his book and balancing it on your stomach as he began into the second, and third chapter of the book you had brought him. By the time he was ending the third, you were beginning to squirm in his arms, wanting to move without disturbing him, and so he placed the bookmark into the fold of the pages, closing it and placing it down beside you both. 

“You keep looking after me.”

“Someone has to look after you like you looked after me.”

“And that’s you?” You shuffled, moving to look up at him as he shifted, not looking down at you but instead moving to press his cheek to the top of your head, silently tucking you under his chin.

“It could be.”

You hummed, nodding your head quietly and stretching out your arms. Getting yourself up, his hand on your back gave you an assist, pushing you to your feet and resting on your back to keep you steady as he watched you, and you spun on your heel, new happiness and joy filling you as an idea came to mind. “How about a movie and a pizza?”

“You’re staying?”

“Do you want me to go?” You watched him, a genuine smile on his lips as he stood up beside you, your hands fidgeting in front of yourself, a single brow raised, and he took your hands in his to steady them, much like you had done to him several times over the past few weeks as he’d revealed more and more to you about his history.

“No. I don’t. I like it when you’re here with me.”

“Cool.” You grinned, taking one of your hands from his and fishing your phone from your pocket, pulling it up and opening an app to order a pizza. 

“Cool.” He repeated, and you laughed under your breath, shaking your head at the way the word sounded so odd coming from his lips. You moved ordered you both some food, just enough to fill you up, before you were moving away to find the television remotes and instructing him to fetch some drinks from the kitchen as you unfolded the blanket from last night. 

In a split-second decision, you caught his wrist in your hand as he went, turning him around as he looked at you quizzically, and you bounded up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his cheek. A barely present kiss was left on his skin, your mouth barely brushing his cheek, but the tip of your nose followed as you fell back down onto your feet and turned away from him to the television in order to choose a film, not missing the small smile on his lips that was mirrored on your own. 

[theladyofdeath]

The Office {2}

A Court of Thorns and Roses mini-series, part 2/8.

A year in the life of office workers, an 8 part mini-series.

Based on a prompt sent in by @the-regal-warrior​

Feyre 

A month had passed.

A horrible, dreadful, incredibly uncomfortable month.

Rhysand had taken a few weeks off, using his built up vacation hours, claiming he was going to visit his parents, but I know full well that his mother lives half an hour away, on the other side of town, and his father is dead to him. So, that left me with one conclusion - he was ignoring me.

Which, I didn’t blame him.

Since his confession, and our kiss, I broke things off with Tamlin. It was long overdue, even I knew that much. Rhysand was right in a lot of what he had said that night. Tamlin not treating me right, being a main point. 

It was the right move.

Even if it created so many more issues, so much more tension. I had to move out, of course, because the house we lived in was under Tamlin’s name. It was a shame, really, because I loved that house, had worked for two years to make it my own. It was in a great part of town, half a mile from my favorite spot along the Sidra. But, in the end, even though half of the shit in that house was mine, all I left with were my paintings, my supplies, my clothes, and everything that was in the bathroom.

I hope he had fun showering having to dry himself with paper towels.

Asshole.

Anyway. Tamlin had been ignoring me at all costs since, which was fine, it’s not like he had to come up from the warehouse all that often. 

What hurt so much worse was that Rhysand sat six feet away from me, his desk nearly facing mine straight on, and he wouldn’t even look at me. I just wanted to run over to him, shake him by the shoulders, and tell him to say something.

Anything.

I didn’t even care what, at that point.

The day went on, the hours passing slow. Every five minutes, I would look up from my desk at reception, but Rhysand was into his work. And as soon as the clock his five, he was out.

I wanted to call after him.

But I didn’t.

I simply shut down my computer, collected my belongings, and pulled on my jacket before heading to the parking lot. There was a tall figure leaning against the side of my car.

But it wasn’t who I wanted to be waiting there.

“Tamlin,” I breathed, half statement of annoyance, half question. 

He pushed off my little car as he said, “Hey.”

“Move, please,” I mumbled. “I have to get home.”

“What’s the rush?” he asked, with an annoyance in his eyes that faded a second later. “Look, I just...can we go get a coffee? I think we should talk.”

“Whatever you have to say there can be said here,” I replied, simply, crossing my arms.

“I think you should come back home,” he replied, simply, directly. “I think you should come home and we should work this out. This is ridiculous, Feyre. We’ve been together for five years and you suddenly just break it off. Obviously, I was doing something wrong, but I want to correct it.”

The sigh that came out of me was full of annoyance. “Tamlin, there was a reason we were engaged for two years and never set a date. We’re not meant to be. Okay? So, please, move.”

“This is about him, isn’t it?”

I stilled and hated that I met his gaze once more. He must’ve seen my hesitation, though, because his eyes were clouded with anger, his lips pursed.

“I knew it,” Tamlin scowled. “I fucking knew it. You cheated on me, didn’t you?”

“What, no, I-”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that,” Tamlin ordered.

Shaking my head, I met his gaze, once more. “He kissed me.”

“And did you fight him?”

I stood motionless, silent.

Scoffing, Tamlin stepped aside.

I got into my car and quickly drove away with an unsettled feeling that I had just made everything so much worse.

~~~~

The next morning was eventful, but not in the exciting way.

I arrived at the office just before eight and made myself comfortable behind the welcome desk. After pulling up Helion’s schedule to inform him upon his arrival what to expect for his morning, the door opened and Rhysand came in. For a brief moment, our eyes connected. I gave him a small smile.

To my surprise, and utter delight, he returned it. 

I watched as he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. He grabbed his lunch and took it to the break room to put it into the fridge.

Then, the door flew open with such a force that those of us who had already arrived looked its way.

Tamlin came hurrying in and the look that was in his eyes was one I had seen many times - one that I loathed.

I stilled. “Tam?”

But he wasn’t looking at me. He was storming to the other side of the room, where Rhysand had just re-entered through the break room door.

“Tamlin!” I shouted, rising from my desk chair.

But he was on a mission, it seemed, one he couldn’t be talked out of.

He didn’t get far, though, because Cassian stepped in Tamlin’s path with a little tube of pepper spray and was firing it, right into Tamlin’s eyes.

Everyone began panicking, as everyone within spitting distance was instantly covering their eyes.

Rhysand and Cassian included.

Then the chaos began. Helion arrived shortly thereafter, and called for security to come take Tamlin away, letting him know that he wouldn’t be welcomed back on the premises. I nearly felt bad. Yes, Tamlin was an idiot, but to lose his job?

At least I wouldn’t have to keep seeing him everyday.

Everyone who had been affected rinsed their eyes out, and Cassian was giving a talking to about using pepper spray in the office under emergency circumstances only, even if Cassian protested that it had been, in fact, an emergency.

Meanwhile, I sat in shock at my desk, trying to process what the hell had actually happened.

Tamlin had come to kick Rhysand’s ass.

Rhysand saw Tamlin coming, but didn’t have to react, because Cassian tossed out some pepper spray.

Tamlin got dragged out by security.

And fired.

And me? Well, I had some apologizing to do, it seemed.

Lunch time came and I saw Rhysand get his lunch and carry it outside. It seemed like it was now or never.

I figured now was better, because the idea of never made me want to vomit. I grabbed my lunchbox from the fridge and followed Rhysand.

I found him sitting on a bench out front, eating his sandwich.

He looked up at me, surprised, as I sat down next to him.

“Hi,” I said, refusing to open my lunchbox.

“Hey,” he said, after swallowing a bite of my sandwich.

“Crazy day, huh?” I asked, in hopes of making decent small talk before getting into the heavier stuff.

But Rhysand just arched a brow, humored. “Are you referring to your fiance storming into the office to kick my ass?”

I sucked my bottom lip into my teeth.

He chuckled. “I assume you told him about the kiss, then.”

I nodded.

“Does that mean you broke up?” he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich. Apparently, unlike myself, this conversation didn’t have any effect on his appetite. 

I blinked. “We broke up a month ago.”

That did make Rhysand halt. “What? Why?”

I rolled my eyes. “You very well know why. And I was going to tell you weeks ago, but then you went MIA.” I looked away from him, away from those piercing violet eyes as I went on, “Look, what I said that night...I was just surprised. I was thrown off...it wasn’t what I had been expecting, but I realized that I felt the same way about you. So I broke it off with Tamlin. Then, last night, we got into it, and the reason for why I left him came out. Hence, his alpha-male presence in the office this morning.” 

He said nothing, but he slowly lowered his last bite of sandwich onto his lap.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “About all of it. Really, I am. I’ve made a mess of it, and I know that. And you don’t deserve that. And I’m sorry.”

“Wow, Archeron,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other still clutching what was left of his sandwich. “That was, uh, a lot to take in.” 

I knew that tone.

As I shook my head, a slow grin swept across his mouth.

“It’s fine,” he said, a minute later. “I’m not mad. And I wasn’t ignoring you. Well, that’s a lie, I was...but, not because of anything you did. I was embarrassed.”

At my look of surprise, he started laughing, quietly. 

“The thought of coming in every day to see you, thinking I messed everything up between us, our friendship….well, let’s just say seeing you at work was my favorite reason to come to work.” He was looking at the cars driving past as he finished off his sandwich and crumbled up the paper bag it had come in. 

When I said nothing, he gave me one last smile and rose. 

“Well, back to work, I guess,” he said, sighing, then headed for the door.

I was left on the bench, blinking rapidly.

“Oh,” he said, turning around to meet my open-mouthed gaze. “You busy tonight?”

“I- no.”

“Wanna get some dinner?” he asked.

“I…” I could hardly get the word out of my mouth. “Yeah.”

“Seven okay?” he asked.

I nodded, not trusting another word that came out of my mouth.

“Great,” he grinned. “It’s a date.”

Then he was gone, through the doors and out of my sight. My heart was thudding against the inside of my chest as I looked down at my unopened lunchbox, completely forgetting that I was supposed to be eating my lunch, and my break was almost over.

I didn’t even care.

I had a date with Rhys.

[missmeela]

The Fixer (Part Two)

Prompt 2: Aberrant - Link to master post

Tay made his way through the streets towards the middle of the city. Trailing behind, Edlin followed, still uncertain of his new companion. Suddenly, Tay came to an abrupt stop by a door and gave it a single rap.

A head poked out from behind, and Tay gave the face that met his a nod.

"Alright, the sent is done. You could do with some clean up over there. I'm sure the client doesn't want to see it in its current state."

The man poked his head further out to glance at Edlin, then looked back at Tay.

"And the other job?"

Tay shook his head and pushed his hands through his hair.

"Yeah, I'm dealing with it. I've just got to take care of this stray first. He's a bit out of it, you know?"

"Well, don't take too long. Rumours are that the target is getting ready to leave the city. The client wants it done quickly."

"Alright, alright. I'll get it done. Come on you."

Tay nodded to the man again and then looked behind at Edlin. Then Tay carried on with his route to the inn.

Heading straight inside, he went up to the desk and collected a key from a sleepy-looking attendant.

"I'll have a breakfast up in my room in half a bell. This guy here is going to be my guest."

The attendant looked over at Edlin and then noted down the request.

Tay carried on up to his room and opened the door. Edlin lingered in the hall before Tay ushered him inside and closed the door.

Various weapons were lined up against the wall, axes, swords, a bow, a crossbow, even a lance. Tay unfastened his sword belt and propped the sword he was wearing in with the others.

"You can sit down over there. Give yourself some time to get your head together. You'll get some food soon."

Tay ran his fingers in amongst a selection of vials and pulled out a small glass bottle. He took off the cap and downed the contents, then picked up an axe from his collection. Edlin made his way over to a small chair and took a seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about that. I won't be long."

Tay stepped back out through the door and closed it. Edlin looked around the strange room of the mercenary. Bloodied bandages sat in a bin in one corner by a basin. The vast array of weaponry against the wall looked to be well used. Some still bearing remnants of their craft. Edlin was left in a strange silence he wasn't used to.

Memories of his past deeds flashed into his head. Images of his own hands mutilating bodies. The struggles people put up as he dragged them from the street. All those unspeakable things he did without even a second thought. They all seemed so horrific to him now; how could he have done them so easily then?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Breakfast was brought in by an old man and laid out on the table without a single word. He left with barely a glance at Edlin, closing the door after him.

Edlin looked at the plate of sausages, potatoes and bread. A small metal mug of black coffee steamed next to it. He was hungry certainly, and the food looked good; he just struggled to take the step to start eating.

As the coffee cooled, Edlin had only attempted the smallest bites of each ingredient. It was then that Tay barged through the door. He made a beeline for the basin, tossing a gore covered axe off to the side on his way. A kick from his heel sent the door back in its frame.

He poured some water into the basin from a jug, leaving a sticky red mark on the handle. He rubbed his face with a cloth turning it blood red before plunging it into the water. Tay glanced around to Edlin as he washed.

"You've not eaten much there. You'll need to keep your strength up."

Edlin watched on as Tay cleaned off his face.

"You've killed someone, haven't you?"

Tay nodded and tossed the bloodied cloth onto the pile of bandages. Then took a towel and dried off his hair.

"That's pretty much the way of things around here. I wouldn't say it's an honest living, but it's at least steady work."

Edlin didn't know if he agreed with that. But with the things he had done himself, he didn't feel like he could criticise Tay's actions.

"Were they bad? Like had they hurt someone?"

Tay paused and turned to lean over the basin. He spat a few times onto the water. Then with a sudden retch, he vomited into the small basin. Tay stood there, head down for a moment to regain his breath. Then he took the towel and dabbed his mouth. He took a swig from the pitcher and spat water into the basin.

"Sorry about that, lad. It's the ether. I can't imagine that does much for your appetite."

Edlin looked at his breakfast and then shook his head.

"I'm not sure I was that hungry either way. So, were they a bad person?"

Tay shook his head.

"If only that were so. Not all jobs are for the greater good. You just do things that pay. It's not like I ever claimed to be a moral man."

Edlin turned to study the axe lying on the ground. It was slick with blood all the way up the handle. Clearly, it wasn't a clean death.

"But you must have some idea of who they were. Why someone would want them dead."

"Listen, kid. I know you've had a rough time. How many years must he have had you under his spell? You're just coming back into this world. It's not always so easy as you think it should be."

"But you still did it. You killed them, and you didn't have to."

"The money was too good, and I have a reputation for getting things done. Anything you need doing, I'm the one that will do it. And if that's just because some guy is screwing your wife behind your back, then yes, I'll do whatever you want to him."

"That's horrible. That man, that man you saw at the house, he said he was leaving the city. You could have let him go free."

"A little bit preachy for a guy that was hacking off an innocent man's arm just a few hours ago, don't you think?"

Edlin got quiet and looked down at the ground.

"I don't really understand why I did that."

Tay sighed and walked over to his axe. He picked it off the ground and dabbed at the spot of blood it had left behind.

"Well, if it wasn't me that did it, someone else would have. I like to see myself like this axe. Or any of these tools. They're not good, not evil; they just do what is asked of them. That's how I look at it.

And concerning your circumstances. You were enthralled. Sort of like hypnosis. You didn't have control of how you felt about things. That was pushed on you by that voidsent thing, living inside the Elezen. It's not really your fault."

Edlin scuffed his shoes against the floor and nodded slowly.

"I suppose I should say thank you. Thank you for saving me."

He turned his face up towards Tay.

"But what am I supposed to do now? It's not like it can just go back to how it was before."

Tay sat his axe back in with his other weapons now that it had been wiped over with a cloth. To call it clean would be a stretch. But, it didn't look out of place amongst the other weapons.

"I suppose that's up to you. You could take a ship. Go out to the countryside somewhere, start a new life far away. It's as good of a new start as any."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin. I wouldn't know the first thing about being a farmer or anything like that. I was studying to be a priest. I don't think I'd be welcome there now, given the things that I've done."

Tay laughed to himself and walked over to the plate of food. He picked up a sausage and took a bite.

"Yeah? Well, I reckon you wouldn't have been the worst of them. Believe me, I'd know. You can stay here for a few days on my coin, just while you're planning your new life. You don't need to hop on the next ship out of here or nothing."

Edlin nodded a little.

"Then I suppose I should thank you again. Everything in my head just seems so crazy right now. I'm having a hard time believing this is all real. I know I've only just met you, but I think you're a good person deep down, despite the things you do. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. I'd still be back in that pit, left to whatever fate I'd have met from the authorities."

Tay chewed on the sausage and shrugged.

"Well, like you said, you've only just met me. It's not like I could have had you there getting in the way of things. You try and get some rest, I've got to go... well, you know, work stuff."

He took a few steps towards the door before looking back at the basin and pile of bloodied cloth.

"I'll, er, send someone up to deal with that. You might want to open a window for now. But I won't be gone long. Then we can talk about what you're going to do after."

Edlin gave Tay a slight nod as he left again. He had barely any time to get his thoughts straight. It was all just a jumble of the events of the last few years. Making any plan for the future just seemed so alien to him right now.

For now though, he felt safe. Maybe safer than he deserved to feel. He propped open the window and headed over to the bed. He closed his eyes and felt like a weight had been lifted from him. For the first time in a long time, he felt at rest.