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explosionkatsu · 9 months

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AGE DOESN'T MATTER 23

Dad!Bakugo x Teacher!Babysitter!Reader

7 p.m. is what it says to the clock and Katsuki hasn't arrived yet. It seems like Eijiro is quite busy as well for Kazui is still with her.

You were starting to feel uneasy since something must've come up that caused them to be this late. After checking your watch once again, you've decided to just drop Kazui yourself. The thing is, you don't know where Katsuki's parents live and you doubt you'll get a detailed answer from him.

'Well, no harm in trying.' You thought to yourself and poked Kazui who was busy watching some cartoons on your phone.

"Kazui-chan." You called out making Kazui look up at you confused.

"Hai?" He responded.

"Do you know where your bachan lives?" You asked.

You were surprised when Kazui told you the complete address, including the lot number.

"H-how?" You were amazed.

"Papa told me if I got lost, I can state Bachan's address so that someone can take me there safely!" Kazui beamed.

"That's very smart of you, Kazui-chan." You praised and gently patted his head smiling.

"Thank you!" Kazui answered.

"What do you say I drop you instead to your bachan?" You suggested. "I don't think Uncle Eiji will be here anytime soon. Something must've come up."

Kazui just nodded when you noticed him yawning. Of course, he's exhausted.

"Alright. Let's pack our stuff and head out." You said.

Y/n began fixing her things as well as Kazui. Once finished, she checked everything and left the school taking Kazui's hand to hers. She plans on buying something to consume on their way as well since it's been hours since Kazui ate anything.

Y/n took Kazui to a ramen house where Kazui finished his meal almost immediately and ate his yogurt on the bus. You intentionally made him sit at the window seat so that he'd be able to point out the place.

"We're here!" He suddenly exclaimed while pointing to a certain house.

Y/n pressed the stop button resulting in the bus halting a few blocks away from where Kazui's pointing. Carefully, Y/n guided Kazui out of the bus and headed to where he was pointing.

'If this is the wrong house, she could just apologize and say it's the wrong house.' Y/n thought while internally praying, as well as readying herself for the excuse.

When they reached the porch, Y/n shakingly pressed the doorbell twice. She was ready to make an excuse, chanting it over and over in her head. Her dread vanished when a woman who looked exactly like a female version of Katsuki opened the door.

"Can I- Kazui!?" Mitsuki shrieked. "Where the hell is your father?!"

"Bachaaan!!" Kazui beamed hugging Mitsuki.

"That brat," Mitsuki mumbled. "Masaru! Your brat left Kazui to some- wait." She blinked, finally looking at you. "Who are you?"

"O-oh!" Y/n stuttered. "I am Y/n L/n." She said and bowed down. "I am Kazui-chan's homeroom teacher, as well as his babysitter."

"Did Kat-, Bakugo leave Kazui to you?" Mitsuki asked and let Kazui in the house.

"Oh, not entirely." Y/n sweat dropped. "Kazui has been waiting for Kirishima to pick him up. But it seems like something came up. I realized it was getting a bit late so I decided to drop Kazui myself, which I am a bit thankful he knew the whole address." She explained, chuckling in the end.

"Oh what am I doing, come in!"

---

"Glad we were able to catch that villain. Man, I thought I'd leave patrol early today." Eijiro said while sitting on the stretcher and letting someone treat his wounds. "Sorry, I couldn't pick up Kazui today."

"Shit!" Katsuki cussed.

"What is it?" Eijiro asked looking at Katsuki in panic.

"I have a fucking date today!"

"What?! With who!?" Eijiro exclaimed. "Bro. You realized it's 8:30 in the evening already, right?"

"I'm supposed to fucking pick her up at the daycare."

Without hesitating, Katsuki told the medic to stop treating him.

"Who!? Where- Dynamight!!!" Eijiro called out. "Awe man."

Katsuki darted away from the scene focusing on getting to the daycare fast, hoping Y/n and Kazui were still there. But as soon as he reached the establishment, he saw that the lights were out and the portico was locked.

"Fuck!" He cussed loudly.

'She must've taken Kazui her. But where? At her home? Yeah. Probably it.' Katsuki thought to himself and blasted himself towards Y/n's apartment.

It took him a few minutes to get there only to notice that her lights were off as well.

"What the hell?" He mumbled. "Where the hell are they.." Katsuki said. He went to the window to check closer but saw no one.

The only place he hasn't gone yet is his own house and his parents.

"Damn it." He cussed once again and blasted away.

---

"So, you've been spending time with Katsuki." Mitsuki was surprised after learning this. It irritates her that Katsuki never tells him anything. "So, how's he?"

Y/n, who was sitting in the dining with Mitsuki smiled. "He's very-"

"Difficult?"

"A-ah. No..." Y/n sweat dropped. "He's really sweet." She giggled. "Whenever I come over to take care of Kazui, I usually cook dinner for 3 people. He'll get mad at me for cooking instead of ordering takeout since he always leaves enough cash for takeouts."

"What do you do to the money he leaves?" Mitsuki asked before sipping her cup of tea.

'Ah.' Y/n thought. It seems like she knew what Mitsuki was doing.

"I bought groceries." Y/n looked down as she said this. "I noticed that there aren't any greens in the fridge. It's usually meat, cereal, a bunch of juices, and a few spices."

"What happened to Katsuki." Mitsuki facepalmed. "That kid is always passionate about his cooking."

"He always complains whenever I cook for him, but he'll eat it anyway." Y/n giggled and took a sip of her tea.

"Why do you do it?" Mitsuki's getting interested in Y/n.

"I can see how tired and exhausted he is whenever he gets home from work."

As Y/n went on to explain, she didn't know that Mitsuki was watching her facial features. Her expression changes whenever she mentions something about Katsuki.

'He'll be so lucky to have this woman.' Mitsuki thought smiling to herself. "Ah. I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself." She smiled. "I'm Mitsuki Bakugo, and here my husband, Masaru Bakugo. You can just call me Mitsuki."

"Oh. It is a pleasure, Mitsuki." Y/n stood up and bowed as a sign of respect.

---

Reaching his own house, Katsuki can see the lights are as well off.

"What the hell?"

He's starting to get worried. Did someone kidnap them? Did they know who Y/n is?

"Fuck!" The only thing he can think of now is to call. But as he tries to reach for his phone, he realizes he left it in his office which frustrates him more.

The only place he hasn't checked is his parents where he doubts, they will be there, but he was hoping they are.

---

"Masaru," Mitsuki called out for her husband signaling him to come over.

Y/n was with Kazui in the living room, obviously spending time with him.

"Yes, dear?" Masaru responded.

"We haven't fully known Y/n right here but I'm liking her for Katsuki right now." She was grinning ear to ear while murmuring what she said.

"What makes you say that?" Masaru said placing a palm on Mitsuki's shoulder.

"I heard the things she did for him. She's the woman I want for our son." Mitsuki smiled.

"You know we just can't-"

"Set them up," Mitsuki answered mischievously.

"Katsuki's smart, dear."

"Not with us." She snickered. "Y/n dear! Come here!"

Y/n blinked curiously but stood up anyway and went to Mitsuki and Masaru.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Eh?

This question made you blink again. "Huh?"

"Oh! We apologize for snooping around. You are a very lovely woman so we're guessing you have a man in your life." Mitsuki's a great actor alright.

"U-um. I don't have a boyfriend." You stuttered but confused. "It's been years since I last had one."

"Why's that, sweetie?" She was curious, okay?

"I just don't have enough time to look for someone..." You answered truthfully. "If someone came into my life, then I'll accept them wholeheartedly."

"I swear to god if they aren't here-"

Just as Y/n finished her sentence, Katsuki came barging in. Everyone was jolted by his entrance, making them all look at him, and Kazui, well, ran to Y/n in fear.

Mitsuki though, after seeing it was only her son, stomped her way to Katsuki and gave him a hard smack on his head which made Y/n gasp.

"That's normal, Y/n," Masaru says assuring her.

"Ooh.." Y/n said in response.

"Why the hell are you barging in here like that!? You gave us a heart attack you idiot!"

"I was looking for Y/n and Kazui!"

"That doesn't change the fact that you almost killed us all!"

"How the hell would I do that woman!?"

"Who are you calling woman, hah!?"

Then Mitsuki gave Katsuki another smack whilst Masaru just sighed in the background, smiling.

"A-ano.." Y/n's voice halted both the blonde-haired.

Both blonde-haired paused in bickering when they heard Y/n's voice making them look at her.

"Kazui!" Katsuki called out as he reached for Kazui, embracing him tightly. "I was so worried." He breathes out what after seeing Kazui safe.

"Papaaaaa." Kazui groaned, squirming a little while being embraced by his father. "I'm okay!"

Mitsuki just slightly shook her head while witnessing the scene.

"How did they get here?" Katsuki asked as he stood up looking at his mother.

"They knock at the door, genius," Mitsuki answered crossing her arms.

"I- whatever." Katsuki facepalmed.

"A-ano.." You stuttered. "Kazui-chan gave me the address."

He was so focused on Kazui that he almost forgot that you were also here in his parent's house. So when his eyes gaze upon you, he can't help but blush a little which goes unnoticed by Mitsuki who smirks seeing this.

"Tsch." Katsuki tched. "Thanks for keeping Kazui safe."

"It's my responsibility as his teacher and babysitter." You smiled.

"I'm guessing you've met my old hag here," Katsuki mumbles as he scratches his cheeks.

Y/n was a bit distraught. She never focuses on what he is saying because Katsuki is covered in bruises, scratches, wounds, and dirt. She was tempted to heal him.

"Katsuki.." Y/n called out softly.

Katsuki stopped talking and looked at her raising an eyebrow.

"I apologize for cutting you, but I hope you don't mind if I take a look at your bruises. It might get infected... Especially those open wounds.." Y/n said staring at Katsuki worriedly.

"Now that you mentioned it," Mitsuki spoke up. "You look terrible! I was just watching you and Eijiro defeat that villain! Why aren't you patched up!?"

Katsuki only rolled his eyes hearing his mother yell at him, but deep inside he kinda missed it. "Eijiro was getting patched up." Katsuki started. "I was going to as well when he fu-, mentioned Kazui. Since I made plans with Y/n as well, I thought of picking him up instead. But I realized it was a bit late, and looked around for them."

"Be glad that your son knows our address." Mitsuki sighed.

"Son, why don't you use your old bedroom and stay here for tonight?" Masaru walked towards them, smiling. "Your mother can help you with those while I prepare dinner. I'm sure Miss Y/n and Kazui are starving as well."

"A-ah! You don't have to-"

"That would be lovely!" Mitsuki beamed.

"Tsch." Well, it was not a bad idea. "Fine. Only because I'm exhausted."

"Alright then! I'll bring the aid kit while your father-

"Give it to Y/n," Katsuki said finally removing his combat boots.

"Ha?" Mitsuki was confused.

"She's a healer." Katsuki simply said making Y/n's eyes wide open.

"How did y-you know?.." Y/n stuttered.

"Doesn't matter," Katsuki said.

"Oh? That's very interesting, Y/n." Mitsuki smiled. "You can patch Katsuki in his room. I can finally spend time with my grandson!"

---

Katsuki went to his old bedroom along with Y/n following him. He didn't expect his night to turn this way but he was a bit glad to have some a little privacy with Y/n.

"This is my old room," Katsuki said stopping in front of a door.

He slowly pushed the door open and switched the lights on revealing a tidy room with a bunch of Almight stuff around the room.

"I see a fan." Y/n giggled while they both walked into the room.

"Whatever," Katsuki answered. "Be thankful it's not like Izuku's." He mumbled.

"Hm?"

"I'll go shower." He said. "You can wait here. Just sit on the bed, I guess."

"Oh. I'll prepare the med kit while waiting for you." Y/n smiled.

"Alright. I'll be quick." Katsuki said and left.

A few minutes passed, and Katsuki got out of the shower fully clothed. He decided to just change in the bathroom so that it wouldn't create any awkwardness between him and Y/n. He also wore something that might help Y/n while she heals him.

"Would these clothes be a bother?" He asked slowly approaching Y/n who was comfortably sitting on the bed.

Hearing his voice shook her a little bit. Luckily she managed to hide it.

As she looked at Katsuki, her eyes widened on seeing what he was wearing. A loose black tank top along with what seems like sleepwear shorts stops a few inches above his knee.

"Oi."

Y/n blinked when he called out. "I-it's okay."

Katsuki sat across from her, not too close but not too far either. He watched how she took a bunch of stuff out of the kit as if she was familiar with what she was doing. Like a muscle memory almost.

"I have a question." Katsuki suddenly blurts out.

"Oh, uh. What is it?" Y/n asked while focusing on the liquid disinfectant.

"Why didn't you take the medical field?" As if hitting a sensitive spot, Katsuki noticed how her movements turned slow. "You don't have to answer if it's something sensitive." He quickly added.

"No, no. It's fine." Y/n smiled at him. "It's not sensitive as well." She said. "I just dont like seeing people die. Especially under my care." She sighed as the smile never left her lips. "I get attached easily which is not a good thing as a doctor, or so I was told. Haha."

While reading the formula of the disinfectant, Y/n managed to answer Katsuki. "I wanted to be a doctor. But since I am a very emotional person, I decided to just teach."

"Why didn't you tell me your quirk is healing?"

Y/n giggled remembering her reason.

"The hell is so funny about it, hah?" Katsuki was confused as to why she found his question amusing.

"Sorry!" Y/n apologized immediately. "I just think that you might find my reason foolish."

"I won't if you tell me." Katsuki tsked.

"Well. I watched you a lot on the television. All your interviews." Y/n started.

"Right," Katsuki smirked. "I forgot that you're a fan of Dynamight."

"S-shut it.." Y/n blushed. "Anyway," after clearing her throat, she continues, "Dynamight is a very protective person and doesn't want to cause any harm to anyone. Since my quirk causes self-harm, I know you'd be against it if I used it on you or Kazui when I started working for you."

She does have a point.

"So, the day you got home injured, I told Kirishima to not say a word when I both mended you two," Y/n explained while dabbing the liquid on a cotton ball.

"You think I'll let you use it on me, huh?" Katsuki said looking at her.

"H-huh?"

"Of course fucking not." He added and looked away. "You're precious to me. I don't want you getting hurt." He said while his face was turning red.

Y/n's face was worse though, hers was redder than tomato. "U-um.. Your a-arm, please.."

"Wha t do you even like about Dynamight, huh," Katsuki asked out of nowhere while he raised his arm and felt her gentle grasp on his skin. For some reason, it feels very comforting.

"What do I like about him?" Y/n smiled. "He was very passionate about saving people. I admire how bold he is in every situation. No matter what kind of villain he faces, he assures people that he'll defeat them. I just hate it when people misunderstand him just by judging him. They didn't know that without his hero suit, Dynamight was a very different person."

---

"Hey, Masaru." Mistuki called out while preparing the food with her husband.

"Yes, dear?" Masaru answered.

"Did you notice what Katsuki said earlier?" Mitsuki said pausing on washing the vegetables.

"Hm.." Masaru thinks for a second before answering, "Which part?"

"Katsuki said he has plans with Y/n." Mitsuki looked at Masaru as she said this. "I think Katsuki doesn't need our help."

Masaru just smiled at his wife. "Like I said, our son is smart."

---

Happy New year, everyone!! I am back!!! I hope you like this part!

Thank you for all your patience! 🥺🥺

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

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Wolf pack X Gn!reader prompt

Reader can’t sleep so they decided to text (your preferred characters) that they aren’t tired.

It was only soon after sent as ‘seen’ and the reader is confused why, that was until they hear a knock on their window only to see them shirtless.

Reader opens the door and lets them in only to be pushed in bed and starts cuddling each other!

Reader then falls asleep beside them😌

We will be using Seth because he gives off major puppy vibes like he would be there in a heartbeat

↱ whenever, wherever, however ↰

➘ summary : Seth will always be there for his partner, no matter how faraway they maybe, where their at or who their with. If there’s a will then theirs a way

➘ Seth Clearwater x gender neutral reader

➘ a/n : remember guys, if he wanted to he would find a way

The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of a phone screen. (Y/N) lay in bed, tossing and turning as sleep eluded them. The soft hum of the night surrounded them, and the digital clock on the bedside table blinked 1:23 AM.

With a sigh, (Y/N) reached for their phone, their fingers dancing across the screen as they opened a message to their boyfriend, Seth.

(Y/N): Hey, you up?

It didn't take long for a reply to come through, the notification casting a pale light across the room.

Seth: Yeah, I'm still awake. Why're you up?

(Y/N) hesitated, fingers hovering over the virtual keyboard before they started typing.

(Y/N): I can't seem to sleep. Just not tired, I guess.

(Y/N) stared at their phone for a moment after sending the text, a flicker of confusion crossing their features. Seth's usually swift responses were nowhere to be found, leaving them wondering if he had indeed fallen asleep.

Just as they were about to set their phone aside and attempt to get some rest, a soft but distinct tapping sound echoed in the quiet of the night. The noise was coming from their window. (Y/N)'s eyes widened, their heart pounding with surprise as they glanced towards the source of the sound.

Hesitating only for a moment, (Y/N) got up from their bed, their feet padding softly across the floor. Their curiosity piqued, they approached the window cautiously, pulling back the curtain to reveal the unexpected sight.

There, outside the window, stood Seth. His bare chest was illuminated by the moonlight, his breath visible in the crisp night air. His out-of-breath grin was infectious, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and amusement.

As their eyes met, Seth's grin widened, and he pressed his hand against the glass as if reaching out to them. "Let me in, babe. It's cold out here."

(Y/N)'s surprise gave way to a bemused smile as they quickly unlocked the window and pushed it open. The cool night air rushed in, but it was accompanied by the warmth of Seth's presence. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Seth climbed through the window, his movements slightly awkward due to his haste. Once he was inside, he stood up straight, his expression a mix of sheepishness and excitement. "Well, since you said you couldn't sleep, I thought I'd bring the company to you."

(Y/N)'s amusement grew, and they couldn't help but shake their head at his antics. "You couldn't just send another text?"

Seth chuckled, his eyes locking onto theirs with affection. "Where's the fun in that?"

With a soft laugh, (Y/N) closed the window behind Seth, the warmth of their room enveloping them both. "You're something else, you know that?"

Seth's grin remained as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around (Y/N)'s waist. "Just doing my part to make sure you're not up alone."

As his warmth seeped into (Y/N), they leaned into his embrace, their forehead resting against his. "I appreciate it, Seth. It's nice to have you here."

Seth's gaze softened, his fingers gently lifting their chin. "I'll always be here for you, (Y/N). Even if it means showing up at your window in the middle of the night."

The tenderness in his words was undeniable, and (Y/N) felt a rush of gratitude for the unity they shared. With Seth by their side, even the sleepless nights seemed a little less daunting.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. The night was cold, but their connection was warm, reminding them that even in the darkness, unity and love had the power to light up their lives.

Seth's playful strength surprised (Y/N) as he gently pushed them both back onto the bed, their laughter filling the room. Their bodies relaxed into the mattress, the comfort of their shared space enveloping them.

As their laughter subsided, Seth's head lowered, coming to rest against (Y/N)'s. He looked at them with a mixture of fondness and concern. "You know, we should really try to get some sleep. Staying up too late can mess with your everyday routine."

(Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle at his earnestness, his concern endearing. "Oh, come on, Seth. One restless night won't harm me."

Seth's lips curved into a smile, and he let out a gentle sigh. "You're probably right, but I still don't want you to be tired. You know how important it is to take care of yourself."

(Y/N) met his gaze, their fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "I appreciate your concern, Seth. It's sweet.”

Seth's eyes held a warmth that mirrored the depth of his feelings. "I care about you, (Y/N). Your well-being matters to me."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at (Y/N)'s heartstrings, reminding them of the unity they shared and the depth of their connection. "I know, and I'm lucky to have you looking out for me."

Seth's fingers intertwined with theirs, their hands creating a bridge between them. "Just promise me that if you start feeling too tired, you'll take a break and rest."

(Y/N) leaned in, their foreheads touching once again as they smiled at each other. "Deal. I'll take care of myself."

Seth's smile widened, and he pressed a soft kiss to their forehead. "Good. Now, let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

With Seth's presence beside them, (Y/N) felt a sense of reassurance. As they closed their eyes, they could feel the weight of the night lifting, replaced by a soothing calm. The unity they shared wasn't just about being together; it was about caring for each other's well-being, understanding the importance of rest and rejuvenation.

In the darkness of the room, (Y/N) felt Seth's presence beside them, a reminder that they were never alone. The world outside might be quiet, but the unity they shared spoke volumes, promising that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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fic rec friday 61

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Autistic Lance (Voltron) [series] by dontthinkiwont

"Look, okay, I get it, I like peanut butter, you like sharks. It's a thing, whatever. But seriously, dude - what the fuck?" - Or, Lance has Autism Spectrum Disorder and this can cause him to fixate on some things. Like, maybe, for instance, great white sharks. For example.

yes i like this series for projection reasons. whatever. it was also one of the first autistic lance fics out there!! and its v heavy in platonic relationships yall are gonna love it

2. Revelations and Reactions by @azapofinspiration

Keith couldn't believe it. He was part Galra. That was hard enough to deal with... But then he realized that he would have to tell the rest of the team. He couldn't help but fear how they would react. In which Keith reveals that he's part Galra after facing the Blade of Marmora's trials.

azap truly never misses. they KNOWWWW how to do found family like a CHAMP and i will never get tired of reading canon corrections where keith is like. loved and accepted lol

3. A Memory Like a Snapshot by MemeKonVLD

Pidge is still close —closer than is entirely comfortable if he has to be honest— giving him an evaluating glance. Lance doesn’t really know where to look, other than up her nose— but that grows old pretty fast. So he looks at himself in the reflection of her glasses. And squints. He touches his own face for the first time since waking up— and feels the roughness of his chin. “I have stubble,” he says, and the words are as alarmed as they can be even though they still sound slightly slurred, slightly off. Pidge blinks a couple of times at him, and finally retracts into a more comfortable distance. “Well, yeah,” she says. “You are like, what? 22? 23 in a couple of months?” “I’m feeling— I’m feeling a little queasy,” he says then, with bright spots of color dancing in front of his eyes as he thinks 22. Suddenly, a bucket gets shoved against his face. He takes hold of it with clammy fingers and he leans on his side so he can... use it. Thoroughly. “I’m having Garrison flashbacks,” he hears Pidge say. (Or: Lance is stung by an alien bug, loses his memories temporarily and makes assumptions about his and Keith's relationship. Also, Pidge cheats at Uno.)

losing your memories. and waking up. and someone treats you so kindly and lovingly that you know, immediately, in the bones of you, that they love you. and the feeling in your chest even if your brain doesnt remember of love for them tells you clearly that this person is your soulmate. i am going to LOSE IT

4. Love in the Times of (Intergalactic) War by MemeKonVLD

Lance: Oh, man. [I see him grow visibly excited here, leaning forward and putting his hands up— he’s big on gesticulating, as anyone who’s watched the pilots of Voltron host SNL a couple of months ago knows.] Space is vast. I know that’s not groundbreaking knowledge there, and everyone’s somewhat aware of it, but— being up there? traveling around space for years, and knowing we never even— we never even came near to touching upon a tenth of what’s out there? That’s cool, weird and scary all in one.

WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT 2016 FICS. HUH. ICONIQUE?? AMAZING??? SHOWSTOPPING?? INCREDIBLE??? bc pov outsider is the BEST and watching how much lance SHINES to anyone who looks at him...yeah

5. Skin by MemeKonVLD

He’s aware of Lance talking to him, but he’s still too asleep to try to decipher whatever it is he’s blabbering about. He only starts paying attention when one of Lance’s hands goes to the drawstring of his pajama pants. “Whoa, what are you doing?” He asks, slapping Lance’s hand away, cheeks warm. “You,” Lance starts, pointing at him (and Keith notices that for all he’s made fun of him for the last forever for them, he’s wearing his fingerless gloves), “are not screwing up my skin care routine, man.” (AKA: the one where Keith and Lance switch bodies.)

suave keith and flustered lance my BELOVED. swapped bodies truly has to be one of the top ten tropes of all time. love watching them be in love and also stupid

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#making these makes me sad now 😭😭#vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #getting together #established klance #autistic lance #galra keith #keith angst #fic rec #FRF #longpost

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gothic-thoughts · 3 months

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King Of Almost Everything

Ryomen Sukuna x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Drabble, Curse user!Reader, Jujitsu Uni

CW: Feat. aged up Yuuji, jealous Sukuna, tormenting Yuuji (as usual🙄)

The brat finally wakes up in my pool of blood, choking out the small amount that made it into his lungs.

"You are unbearably infuriating, you know that?"

"The hell are you talking about?!" Itadori yelled, standing up, "What did I even do?!"

"Watch your tone with me, brat. I can and will take your heart again."

"I'll just be stuck in your domain longer if you do."

"Hm." Kid's got a point.

"Now what do you want?"

"I've grown tired of watching you tirelessly follow that female friend of yours. Your attachment to her is so obvious it annoys me."

"That's what this is about? You brought me here to tell me to stop talking to my friend?"

"Talking?" I chuckled darkly, my domain rumbling at the sound, "Itadori, you gawk at that woman. Vying for her attention like some sort of lost infant wanting milk. You're pathetic and it makes me look pathetic."

"So what if I like her a little bit!? You want me to stop?"

"Precisely."

"Too bad."

Between his blinks, I was now off my throne and in front of him, grabbing him by the neck and effortlessly lifting him off the ground, fully extending my arm.

"Fine, let's do this the hard way." I say as I look up at him, "You're going to stop staring at (Y/n) or I will make you suffer for the rest of your agonizingly pitiful life. Now do we have an understanding?"

He choked out, "Why... do you even care so much?"

"I... I don't. That's why I'm threatening to kill you if you do not--"

"W-wait." He struggled, "H-how do you know (Y/n)'s name?"

"What?"

"You s-said '(Y/n)'. How did you know her name?"

"I know all of your friends names, you spend so much fucking time around them how could I not?"

"No, you don't. You said you hate us all so much that learning names isn't worth your time yet you..."

He paused before he squinted at me, a little smirk drawing across his face despite me choking him.

"What? The hell is the matter with you? What are you smiling for? I am not in the mood for your senseless babbling unless it includes--"

"Do you like (Y/n) too, Sukuna?"

I scoff before throwing him across my domain, watching him slam into the mound of bones and skeletons, falling with pained grunts and groans before I zoom to the area to kick him in his stomach, flipping him onto his back so I can pin him to the ground with my foot.

"Does that answer your question?"

He coughs up blood, "N-no... No, just makes you seem more shy."

"Shy?"

"If you're not then prove it."

I kick him in the chin, enjoying his cry of pain before planting my foot back on his chest, "I have no need to prove anything to a bothersome child like you."

"I'm 23--"

"But the reason for my secrecy is because there's no point in expressing any feeling for a human because of your pitiful lifespans. That is, if she does reciprocate my feelings."

"She probably won't like you back cuz you're a literal demonic pain in my ass but... you never know. I could ask her out for you."

"Do not interfere with my emotions, brat. Either I will tell her myself or I will not. It is not your place, and if you make it so that it is, I will kill you only to revive you once I'm sure they've buried you already."

"Alright, alright! But still, you should at least let her know."

"So she can scream and flee from you? From me? That is most likely the most pointless thing you've ever said. Besides, I'm wearing your face. She'll see me as she sees you; a pathetic shell of--"

"Oi, I get it!"

I roll my eyes and snap, making him instantly disappear from under my foot.

"Hey Itadori!" (Y/n)'s smooth, soft, and worried voice from the outside, "You aight, you was just staring out into the distance before you collapsed."

#ryomen sukuna x reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black writers #black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x black reader #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x female reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

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imraespace · 29 days

Text

LIFE'S HARD WHEN YOU'RE INLOVE ─

─ WITH RIN ITOSHI !!

This morning made you completely forget about what happened. Tonight, you're in your bed thinking about it, repeating over and over in your mind.

Why you?

You curled up in a ball, turning to the side, and stared at your bedside table, where that book rests.

You're hurting, but you haven't let go of the feeling you have for him. He hurt you, he doesn't like you. So why are these feelings still here? Seems like he bewitched you.

Sometimes, you think of the days when you haven't read that book if you haven't stared at that boy in class that made your mind spiral down into this mess.

But sadly.. It's too late for that, everything has changed and soon, you might have to as well. It sucks yes, but if this is how you feel you might as well put in some effort into your feelings and those around you from now on.

So at 8:23 PM, you fell asleep with a new mindset, maybe Rin's harsh words opened your eyes to the harsh reality of changing.. and love?

Joy and pain wrapped up all in one package━ maybe that's what love is.

Such a new feeling to you.

"NOOO, PUT ME DOWNN!"

Well, you thought you were going to change..

"C'mon Y/N! It's just football!" Meguru exclaimed, pulling you off your bed.

Yet again, Meguru Bachira is in your room, pulling you out of bed at least this time you're wearing your glasses!

"HE BROKE MY HEART ON THE FIELD, I DON'T WANNA GO THERE!" You yelled out, at 8:09 AM.

Outside of the room, in the living room, stood Hyoma, Yoichi, and your two roommates.

"I've never heard her like this before.. weird." Reo muttered.

"Girls are weird." Seishiro followed up.

Hyoma stared at the duo with a blank look.

"No wonder they're single." He thought.

His judging thoughts were poofed away when his eyes landed on Meguru walking into the room with you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

"She needs to bathe, shove her in the bathroom," Reo ordered, pushing Yoichi towards Meguru and yourself.

"Wait what-"

"Alright!" Meguru replied, marching to the bathroom, with Yoichi running behind.

Here you are, dumped in the bathtub, followed by Yoichi throwing in some clothes for you as they both run out of the bathroom, making it known that they're present right outside of the door, waiting for you to finish.. Well, mostly Meguru demanding you to hurry.

You sighed at the predicament you've found yourself in.

Then Meguru said something.

"If we dragged you out, unwashed, what will Rin think if he sees.. or worse! Smells you!"

You blinked at his words and soon after, the boys outside the bathroom heard the sounds of a shower being turned on.

"No way that worked.." Yoichi mumbled.

"Of course it did!"

Well, at least Meguru came to the agreement that you like him. Now he's using it to his advantage it seems.

Your bath was quick, but efficient, scrubbing almost everywhere on your body, brushing your teeth like twice.. is that even healthy? Anyways, you wore the outfit Yoichi picked out for you and surprisingly, you like it!

Soon later, the boys from outside almost fell when you opened the door, steam from the shower hitting them in their face as you stood there, smelling the soap from a mile away.

"Dang.. At least you're clean.." Yoichi said, covering his face from the steam.

Finally! The um family of friends? Whatever, you all finally made it out of the house!

It was midday and the reason why Meguru decided to make you play football, was simply because it makes him happy, so it will make you happy!

Which is cute, but you swear if you step foot on a field you might get flashbacks of that day.

Maybe Seishiro noticed, or perhaps this is Seishiro being Seishiro. He tapped your shoulder a bit causing you to turn in his direction.

"Yes?"

He pointed in a direction, holding his phone in his other hand. Your eyes followed the direction and your eyes landed on an ice cream stand!

Your face lit up after seeing the sweet treats being sold and dragged Sei with you to get it. The others stopped in their tracks after noticing that the lazy duo had disappeared and saw you both running to the ice cream stand, well actually it's you dragging Seishiro to it but whatever!

They all caught up and now they're buying you ice cream like good friends!

You waited by yourself, staring at the busy street as people passed by, conversing with their peers or just enjoying the Sunday sun. It's a rare sight for you, but everytime you witness it, it lightens up your mood.

Enjoying the peace, your eyes then landed on familiar faces. Isn't that Aryu? And Yukimiya? And.. RIN? WAIT-

First, you were surprised that your eyes landed on him, then it turned into fear as you witnessed his almost death.

Rin, a normal teenager, was counting his money after existing a shop. Then suddenly a bill went flying into the street! Who wouldn't chase after their money?

Yet Rin failed to notice the incoming car, which collided with him, causing him to roll on the top of the car, and onto the road.

Nothing could beat the expression you had on your face right now!

Yet he got up like it was an everyday thing.. Hm, nonchalant and strong, that seems to be your type.

Your mixture of thoughts popped when his eyes landed on you.

His annoyance skyrocketed to the moon and back yet you ignored his expression.

"Um.. are you okay?"

He scoffed at your question and was about to lash out at you until Yoichi came up behind you with ice cream in his hand.

"Y/N- oh it's you."

Rin eyes landed on the boy behind you, then landed back on you.

His mind went back to those notes, was it some joke?

"What-"

"Calm down.. she didn't mean anything bad, and plus it's the weekend, Y/N can be outside if she wants to," Yoichi answered Rin's question for you.

He rolled his eyes and then walked away, continuing on with his day.

"Yo, I think I witnessed something crazy."

"Huh?"

"Nothing.. ice cream?"

"Here."

After that mini meet-up with the undead- Rin, Meguru began to lead you to the football field, the one they all practice at.

Finally, the main reason why they dragged you out of the house. A football field.

All ice creams were long eaten and Meguru grabbed a ball out from his bag.

He pulled on your arm and dragged you onto the grassy field, placing you on the opposite side while he ran away to the other.

He placed the ball on the grass and then simply kicked it towards you.

The ball rolled towards you, stopping at your feet as your eyes followed it.

"C'MON, KICK IT!" Meguru yelled from his side.

You stared at the ball for a while, then softly kicked it back at him.

Meguru was now grinning from ear to ear as it rolled back to him.

This time, he kicked with a bit more force, as the ball came towards you with a bit more speed.

"KICK IT A BIT HARDER NOW!"

You stared at the boy who yelled at you for a moment, then back at the ball.

What was the point of this?

You kicked the ball, with too much force this time, catching your friend off guard as he landed in his face.

"Oh oops.." You muttered, running towards him.

Your spectators laughed at the random turn of events, running up to Meguru as well.

"I'M SORRY!"

Yet he was laughing.

"It's okay, let's play more!" He laughed out, holding his nose.

For some reason, you felt relaxed. You don't have any interest in the sport, you don't know how to play the sport but seeing their happy faces as you enjoyed the hobby they love so dearly made you enjoy the silly moment you have here.

So that's how you, someone who sleeps in all day, found herself on the football field kicking a ball around with her friends, laughing all the worries away.

When your foot collides with the ball, watching it fly away into the goal, it reminds you of letting go of certain feelings and as it enters the goal, is when you feel happy with the results.

Maybe you should let go of the feeling of guilt you had for Rin. Apologize to him for the misunderstandings and confusion you caused him. The ball will enter the goal when you do just exactly that and maybe the guilt will go as well.

Maybe you're seeing football a bit differently from the others.

Hm, maybe if you have some worries, you will kick around a ball to let go of them.

━ 6:23 PM

Somehow, you all met up with not only the almost team, but others FROM the opposite team.

Twice, you got asked for your number.

One was from Otoya, you told him okay, but openly friendzoned him on accident.

The second was from the person you called old, Aiku or something.

"Do I know you?" You asked him.

"Well- No but I can change it for you."

You had no clue he was flirting with you.

Meguru, who is quite nosey, pointed out how they witnessed him and two girls arguing alone.

You gasped, then agreed to give him your number so he could give the details. I mean, who doesn't like gossip?

In the end, they both got turned down either way.

But you met new people and made friends with some of them, something you always wanted.

To your surprise, you got a tad closer to Barou, playing bowling with him while he was complaining about your every move, yet he didn't push you away.

Maybe he sees you as he sees his younger sisters?

Odd bond, but the others came and worsened his mood.

You gave him a small thumbs up as you walked away to sit down, watching the others join in his fun.

He raised his eyebrows at your gesture, gritting his teeth nevertheless.

You stared at those in front of you, realizing that they are going to be in your school year from now on.

SHOEI BAROU (18) :

He may appear a bit selfish and arrogant, to everyone, including yourself, but who said he won't lend an ear out to your weird teenage girl complaints?

11 // 13

note: i wish i had an older brother like barou.. mine has his attitude but hes just disgusting and plays league all day.. also yippee pink theme!

TAGLIST: @deezy12299 @kuroronana @khoiyyu @swagkittybear @shidousprincess @starbarfbunni @jealovsie @imtiredmf @hainge (OPEN)

! if you didn't get tag, that means your acc didn't show up :(

-`♥︎´- for this story, i'm trying a something new, which includes words/phrases, foods and hometowns from japan and germany. if there's any errors please point it out !

-`♥︎´- word count : 1.7K

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 9 months

Text

know its for the better

Words: 2733

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

Part 2 for "Love Thorns All Over This Rose"

I decided to make this be longer than just two part, so this'll be a sort of mini-series

I just want to leave another TW here: if you have ever suffered through a miscarriage or any type of child loss, please proceed with caution. I do heavily talk about how Y/N feels after suffering through that and do talk about her feeling like a failure of a woman and other things. I just want everyone to know that if you feel triggered by that, I apologize and I don't want anyone to be upset over what I wrote

I also want to say that I personally have never gone through. What I write in this, is purely based off of what I have read in other fics or stories as well as seen people talk online. I am trying not to offend anyone and if I do in any of the part that I talk about those things; I severely apologize.

Reminder that Alfred is dead in this so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here still isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

Reminder that Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

Also a reminder that I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

3 Months Ago

Y/N tightened her grip around her purse, the people were following her too closely. She knew this. The light was still out, she kept reminding her that. Kept telling herself that no one would try to kidnap her in broad daylight.

But oh how wrong she was.

She should have known better. She grew up in Gotham. She should have known better.

----

Now

Three days had passed since everything happened. Bruce had refused to leave the hospital. He wondered if it was from guilt of not being there for her other times. Or if he was just filling in his obligation as a husband. Or maybe...maybe Dick was right and he was just doing all he could to preserve his image.

But none of that mattered. Bruce was staying until she woke up. Because she had to wake up. He had to show her that he still cared. That he still loved her. That he knows...he knows how much of a horrible person he has been to her for the past month.

He had to make sure she knew that he regretted it. Every word he said to her that night.

But every sign scared him. They had already had to resuscitate her since getting here. The tube was stuck down her throat, helping her to breathe. Nurses looking at him with pity, making him feel foolish for holding out hope that she would be okay. With every look that they gave him, there was a sort of emptiness and despair settling into his stomach.

Almost as if he agreed with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be agreeing with them. It wouldn't be useless holding out hope that she would be okay.

He ran his thumb over her palm, his eyes glancing up her arm and body until they landed on the raised skin on her collarbone. His hand that wasn't holding hers, come up to run over it. One of the many reminders of what happened 3 months ago.

----

3 Months Ago

Y/N woke up groggily. Her head was pounding and she felt like she had been dropped from a tall building. She blinked, trying to see something, anything, but as her eyes opened, she wished she could go back to seeing nothing.

She was sure that she was in the sewers. The damp and musky smell with the sound of water dripping down the old stone walls and floors around her made her all too aware of where she was. She tried swallowed any saliva, but her mouth was dry. Tears pricked her eyes from pain as she carefully pushed herself up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she gingerly touched her stomach. Involuntarily, her own body flinched back from her touch. She felt her air catch in her throat as she felt nothing moving. In the past month or so, her baby had been moving all the time, leading her on to many sleepless nights.

Deep down, she knew. She knew that her baby was dead. And she knew that there was nothing to be done about it.

She jumped back as she heard the sound of shoes pounding against the damp stones. She tried to move away from the only place that someone could come from, but with her hands and legs being tied together, it was harder than expected. She slipped slightly, her side hitting the stone hard.

Three men, with honestly average builds, stalked into the area. She breathed raggedly as she watched them continue towards her. She tried to push away as one grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her up, a yelp of surprise and pain left her mouth as she was pulled to her feet.

These three men were normal. They weren't some goons or some chemically induced maniacs. They were normal.

And maybe that scared her more.

One of the men, who she assumed was the leader, walked up to her, knife raised. Her eyes darted between him, his associates, and the knife. Any self-defense training that Bruce had taught her, flew out the window as she stood before these men.

"When the situation arises, you'll remember what to do."

That was what Bruce had always told her. But here she was. In the situation and nothing was showing up in her mind as what she was supposed to do.

She leaned back as the guy leaned in but the one with the grip on her arm moved one of his hands to hold her head and make her look at him. She shook as she felt the knife against her collarbone.

A small whimper of pain left her mouth as she felt the knife push deeper, deep enough that it would scar over, before she was pushed back to the ground. The one with the knife gave her a sadistic smile before hoarsely whispering, "We're going to make sure Bruce Wayne finds you dead."

She stared in near terror as she held her hand over where they had sliced and watched as they left just as quickly as they had came.

----

Now

Jason stood in a corner away from Y/N's body. Even with the tube gone, she still didn't wake up. Although she had made some developments...some in the past 8 days that she had been in here and everyone had convinced Bruce to go home and get some proper sleep. So now here Jason was, standing in a room where the woman he had allowed to become his mom was laying still.

But he stayed away from her body.

Something he didn't say often was just how scared he can get. He remembers each time he's been absolutely terrified. When Bruce, well Batman, caught him stealing the wheels to the Batmobile. When he was stuck in that warehouse and Bruce didn't make it in time. When he saw Y/N again for the first time since his "death" and he thought that she would hate him for what he had done. When she was taken. Those words he heard Bruce hurling at Y/N.

And right now.

Jason was keeping his composure, but inside, he was a trembling and terrified child. A kid who just needed to know his mom was going to be alright.

Inside, he knew exactly how Damian was feeling.

But as he stared at her body, his mind couldn't stop drifting, remembering what he had heard that night 4 weeks ago. All he could do was wonder what would have happened if maybe, just maybe, he had gotten angry at Bruce for what he heard.

----

4 Weeks Ago

It was nearly 2 AM when Jason was going to sneak out of the Manor. Technically, it was easy to do, well...it was once he got passed Bruce and Y/N's room. So, he was as silent as he could be as he passed by. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard the voices from behind the cracked door.

Now, Jason wouldn't say he was noisy. But don't all kids stop and listen whenever they hear their parents arguing?

But they weren't arguing. No. He had heard that before. This wasn't it. This was different.

And it scared him.

He stood by the door as Bruce's voice got louder: "--Well I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore Y/N! But can you fucking blame me?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was low, warning him to think before he spoke.

"You didn't pay attention and got taken. You and your inability to pay attention to your surroundings got our baby killed."

She sucked in a breath, "You think I don't blame myself already, Bruce? Do you think that I don't wonder what would have happened if I just hadn't gone out that day?"

"Please, this doesn't affect you. You're perfectly fucking fine."

"Because I have to be!" She nearly screamed, "One of us has to be a parent to everyone else in this home and we both know it won't be you!"

"They aren't even your kids, Y/N, why do you--"

A loud slap echoed and Jason's hand went over his mouth as he continued to listen.

"Those kids are mine. I am the one who helped raise them. I am the one who has made sacrifices for them! You haven't done shit for them, ever." She let out a choked back laugh, "All I did was ask for you to be here with me, to understand what I am feeling and going through. But of course, you don't understand anything."

"I understand that you killed our baby."

"No Bruce. Those men came after me to hurt you. You are the reason I was taken and lost our baby. But sure," Her voice started to break, "Go on. Blame me. I'm used to you doing that anyways.

----

Now

Jason breathed shakily as he grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the room. He knew Dick would be there soon with Damian anyways and he had to get out of there.

--------

Dick watched as Damian laid curled into Y/N's side. Bruce was, miraculously, still sleeping as he and Damian snuck out to the hospital. He didn't do it much for himself as he did it for Damian, he knew that the kid had a sort of...guilt that he could have done something.

Not that Dick could say anything against that. He felt guilty as well.

Y/N was his mom. He was the oldest son. He should have protected her, that was his job. Dick was the protector. He was always supposed to protect everyone. Y/N and even Bruce included. He already had been in this situation before. The immense guilt of failing to protect Y/N.

He remembers what he thought that first time he was here. Remembers the guilt of already failing to keep Alfred alive and not wanting to fail Y/N.

----

3 Months Ago

Dick ran through the sewers, trying to find Y/N. Two days had passed since she had gone missing. All of them had lost sleep trying to find her and now they were searching the sewers for where she could be. He felt like a failure, a bad kid, all because he didn't

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her labored breathing. He turned in the direction that he heard the breathing, his own getting caught in his throat when he saw her laying in the fetal position.

"Mom." He breathed out, rushing to kneel by her side. He gently grabbed her face and looked at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He failed. Guilt filling with him. Guilt of failing Alfred and now her.

He was a failure and he knew that.

"You-you're not a--"

----

Now

"--A failure."

He stopped and looked at Y/N, his eyes wide. "Mom?"

Her head was turned to the side, a small look of gentle concern on her face. "You're not a failure Dick." She whispered through a hoarse voice, "You didn't fail anyone. Especially not me."

But he shook his head. He did. Not once. But twice. First being after she was taken and now this.

"Dick, stop that. The only person here that failed was me."

He got up and angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, "But I-I just...you never--"

Her hand shakily came up to touch his face, "I'm the one who failed sugar. I should've..."

She stopped, hand leaving his to rub her neck. Out of instinct of all the times waking up from injuries, he grabbed her the bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Unscrewing the lid, he gently brought it to her lips and she quickly took a gulp of it.

After a moment, she gently held his wrist. "Dick, look at me and believe me when I tell you that it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Her grip tighten on his wrist for a moment, "You or your siblings." She glanced over at Damian, her arm wrapped around the kid who was now sleeping. "You all had nothing that you could do." She looked back at him, "Everything that happened, that I did, was nothing to do with you kids. It um...it--"

"Has to do with dad?"

She nodded silently before breathing shakily, "I know Jason heard what Bruce and I said. Ahd I um...I assume that--"

He stopped her, his head shaking. "He didn't tell us anything."

"Oh." She sucked in a breath, "Let's just say, both your father and I say things that we shouldn't have. Not saying they weren't truthful...that deep down we didn't mean each and every word that passed our lips...but you kids aren't to blame."

Dick swallowed hard, "Why did you do it mom?"

Her hand fell from his wrist and she looked away, out to the window. "You don't understand how I felt after everything--"

----

6 Weeks Ago

Y/N silently stared out the window. Her hands mindlessly moving up and down her now flatter stomach. She felt disgusting and like a failure. A failure as a wife and as a mother and...as a woman. She was hurting. Not physically, sure her entire body was in pain, but mentally, she was in much more pain.

Her head snapped as she heard the door open. She saw Bruce standing at the door, an almost uncomfortable look on his face. She shakily looked away, ashamed to even look at him.

She heard his almost scoff, "Y/N, come on. You need to talk about it."

She looked at him slightly before whispering with a strained voice, "So do you."

"Y/N, I didn't...nevermind." She looked away again as he walked further in, "Doctors said that you'll be able to leave soon. By the end of the week at most."

She nodded, "Alright." Her voice nearly numb and void of emotion. She turned her head to him, "You always gonna hate me now?"

Bruce sighed, "I don't...I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Her words started to lace with their own venom, "I lost our baby. Because I'm such a..."

He shook his head, "Don't finish that sentence. You are not a failure baby. It wasn't your fault. None of what happened was your fault. You weren't gonna know that someone was going to come after you.

----

Now

"Y/N?" She felt herself freeze when she heard the voice. She kept her eyes everywhere but at the door. She didn't want to see him. Not here. Not now. "Dick can you--"

"Mom doesn't want to see you."

"Dick you don't--"

"Dick it's okay." She whispered, looking at her oldest. "Take Damian down to the food court, force him to eat some junk."

"Mom--"

"Go." She whispered before he silently nodded and grabbed the younger boy, starting to carry him out of the room. She weakly gripped the blanket, "Why are you here?"

"Can I not visit my wife."

She shook her head, "I am not your wife, Bruce." She looked at him angrily, "You're the one who served the fucking papers."

"And I can't--"

"Bruce, you told me that the only reason you were letting me stay in the manor was for the kids. Was so that Damian didn't have to losing another person." She breathed angrily, "You stopped loving me, not the other way around. You're only here to keep up appearances that you are a loving and devoted husband." She leaned forward in his direction, "But I know exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" He challenged.

"A selfish coward who only cares for himself and his image."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I made you think so lowly of me."

Tears burned her eyes, "Get out."

"Y/N--"

"Get out, Bruce. Now."

He stood and started for the door, momentarily stopping to look at her. "I still love you, I know what I did and what I said shows otherwise, but all I ask for is one more chance and I'll prove it to you."

Her lip quivered for a moment before she whispered out, "Tell the nurses I woke up."

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autumnshighlady · 11 days

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 31) - final chapter

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the opportunity to help the females in the Night Court is now here, and the last chapter of the reader's plan concludes

warnings: none

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is the final chapter of IALTPWF (there will be an epilogue for SURE, maybe a bonus chapter or two in the future) and i'm so emotional. i've poured my heart and soul into this story for two years and it's finally over. thank you to everyone who has shown this story support, I hope that in this chapter and the epilogue to come, you are satisfied with the ending. long mushy post to come later

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey.

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless.

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted.

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?”

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

**********************

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight,

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion.

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks.

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder.

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.”

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades.

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

**********************

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers.

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily.

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern.

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could.

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…”

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out.

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply.

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power.

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

**********************

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds.

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion.

**********************

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean. When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris.

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish.

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground.

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand.

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance.

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table.

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion.

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son.

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it.

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lulublack90 · 5 months

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Prompt 24 - Modern AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 23, word count 937

Sirius gripped his coffee as though it were a lifeline. It was the biggest, strongest coffee he could find, watered down with copious amounts of milk. He took little sips as he logged into his computer at work, brought up his list of tasks for the day and slowly began muddling his way through.

He’d gone out last night with James, against his better judgement, not that it took much persuasion on James’s part. All he had to do was bat his hazels at him, and Sirius was putty in his hands.

He’d been having a great time, downing drinks, shaking his arse to the vintage jukebox and then woken up in some fit lad’s bed, hence the massive coffee and the mind-numbing hangover. He’d crept quietly out of the little flat and stumbled his way down the harsh concrete steps that smelled like weed, piss and, for some bizarre reason, hairspray. Sirius had rushed home, hopped in the shower, changed his clothes and hurried to the coffee shop on the corner. He couldn’t even remember the man’s name. He put it out of his mind, reasoning that he’d never see him again anyway.

It took an age for the little digital clock on his computer screen to blink to 12:00 and signal lunchtime.

Feeling the need for greasy food, he went to pull out his mobile to order a McDonald’s when he realised he didn’t have it. He checked all his pockets and his bag. It wasn’t there. The panic had just set in that it had been stolen at the bar last night when his computer alerted him to a new email on his personal account.

‘Hi, erm, I guess Sirius. Sorry, I didn’t get your name last night 😬.

So anyway, I have your phone. You must have left it here when you snuck out this morning. (You are not sneaky, by the way! Like an elephant in size nines!) But yeah, anytime you want to come by and get it is fine. I’ll be in all day. Crap, I hope you get this email, or I’ve just got myself a new phone. It’s actually a big upgrade to mine. On second thoughts, it’s mine now, mwahaha 😈!

Thanks

Remus Lupin.’

Sirius stared at the words for a few minutes, taking them in, before picking up the work phone from his desk and phoning himself.

“Hello?” A voice on the other end answered. “Hi, I’m not Sirius. He left his phone at mine last night.”

“Hi, Remus. It’s me. Sirius.” He added in case he hadn’t realised.

Well, I guessed when you used my name. I highly doubt anyone in your phone book knows who I am. Especially ginger toss pot number 1. There’s more than one ginger toss pot?” Remus snickered.

“Wait, how do you know that, and how did you get my email address? Have you hacked into my phone?!” He felt outraged. How had he even gotten in, though? It was password-protected.

“Sirius, 6969 is not a strong password. Plus, I could see where you’d jabbed at the screen to unlock it. You really need to clean your phone.” Remus went on.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” He paused for a second, trying to rein in the snarkiness. “I don’t finish work until 5. Is it alright to come over after that?”

“Sure,” Remus answered. “I’ll be in.”

“Great, thanks.” Sirius forced a smile on his face so Remus could hear his sincerity.

“Who’s Specky Dick Nuts? Because they’ve been blowing up your phone all morning before I woke up and found it. They seem to have stopped now, though.”

“Oh, that’s my best mate James. Oh shit, if he’s gone quiet, he’s probably tracking my phone. Er, be prepared. He probably thinks I need rescuing.” There was a loud thudding on the other end of the line.

“Er, I think your friend might be here,” Remus whispered into the phone.

“Put me on speaker so I can talk to him.” He heard the faint click as he was put on speaker and the sound of Remus unlocking the four locks on his door.

“Hi, you must be James,” Remus said.

“Where is he?!” James’s voice was stern and full of concern.

“James, mate. I’m fine. I’m at work. I just forgot to pick up my phone this morning. This is Remus, by the way. He kindly let me know he had it.” He prayed that was enough to call off the Potter inquisition.

“Oh, cool. Hi, Remus.”

“Hi, James.”

“Sorry, I thought you were some lunatic. And you were keeping him prisoner.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Happens all the time.” The phone line was filled with laughter, and Sirius had to hold his receiver away from his head.

“Hey, James, can you take my phone, seeing as you’re there?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks, Remus.” He managed to say before James hung him up. He felt oddly dejected for some reason but brushed it off.

When he came back from lunch, he found a new email, this time from Remus’s actual address.

‘Can I take you out on a date?’

It said. Sirius felt a surge of joy and so replied.

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Dinner? Movie? Massive shagathon?’

Sirius choked on his own spit at Remus’s reply. He coughed as he typed back.

‘Jesus, Remus. Are you always so forward?’

‘What can I say? You made an impression 😉.’

‘Yeah, go on then.’

And that was how Sirius found himself for the second morning in a row in Remus Lupin’s bed. But this time, he didn’t sneak out.

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penvisions · 2 months

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return the favor {chapter 23}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller X Smuggler! Reader

Summary: You can only hope to catch up with Joel and Ellie before it's too late, the warning words of your cousins on your mind as you encounter a group of people at the campus yourself. Your trio is reunited in the worst of circumstances, altering the very perception Ellie has of the world.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: minor character death, canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insult, sexual content, non con, allusions to non con sexual advances, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, fighting, blood, reader gets injured, ellie gets injured, joel gets injured, guns, gun violence, creepy david gets his own warning, religious imagery, allusions to cannibalism, end of the world politics, end of the world rhetoric, allusions to pedophilia and grooming (bc of david), please let me know if i missed any!

A/N: well hello there, this was unexpected but procrastinating packing has led me here and who am i to argue? i hope this isn't too heavy of a chapter, but it sets up the remainder of the fic and we will see the end of it within 5-7 chapters. i've missed this little trio and their dynamic, even if it seems like i've wronged them in this latest installment

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You groaned out, your entire chest aching and sore. Sunlight too bright on your eyes and causing the throbbing in your head to amp up a notch. It felt like you had fallen or been thrown around. Entire body blooming with sensitive spots tender to pressure.

“Fuck.”

The ground was cold beneath you, hard and solid. Wind howled faintly but you had to be inside because you couldn’t feel it jostling your body. When you moved to push yourself up, your arms flexed against something tight around them. Blinking your eyes open, the only thing you could see was a barred fence and the brick wall behind it. There was a buzzing sound that seemed to consume the air around you, not helping the throbbing in your head.

You blinked a few times, coming back into your body and the buzzing sound suddenly shifted into a familiar voice.

“Bean, please wake up. You need to wake up, they’ll be back any minute.” It was Ellie, her voice a little raspy and her words far too fast to process as you shifted into a seated position. Your hands were bound around the wrists, rope tight and knotted around them. It wasn’t an official knot, but just a tangled mess of tied off twists that had been pulled on so much the fibers dug into your skin.

“What happened…?” Your head rolls on your shoulders, feeling out the kinks and knots in your muscles that would take years to work out. Fuck, you were getting old. But the clatter of something Ellie was doing had you up on your feet in a heartbeat, eyes wide and searching. She had been trying to use a bucket to get up into the window, to see out of it where it was high on the brick wall that backed up your separate cells. It had fallen with her weight on top of it, too much for how empty it was, the side of it dented in and she was standing beside it with a sheepish grimace.

“They attacked us, they hurt Joel. I-I-I tried to remember what you taught me about stitching but I couldn’t focus and they got cut one of our bags, the stuff you packed up fell out when I was trying to get us away.”

“Who…who attacked you?” You brought your tied hands up to your mouth and dug them into the rope, it tasted of dirt but you tried not to think of what else could be soaked into the fabric as you tore into it as best you could.

“Some guy named David, he found me when I was hunting. Joel needed something to eat, he’s not….Bean, he doesn’t look good.” You looked up through your hunched over position to see the shine of her eyes, the way she was trying to keep everything in check. But she was so young, kidnapped, stolen away from the one person who she had left in the world while you….while you had just gone off on your own.

Guilt flared and burned hot in your body, making you feel shameful and like you had caused all of this to happen. She seemed to sense it.

“They would’ve attacked either way, back at the school campus. They had been looking for people, they go there a lot, at least that’s what it seemed like.”

“You said you had to stitch him up, how bad was it? All I saw was a bat on broken in half.”

“You were there?”

“I was tracing your last known steps, I- I ran into my family and they told me they had been here but that it wasn’t…it wasn’t what it was promised to be. I’ll explain later. Ellie, tell me that they haven’t touched you, please.”

“No one’s…touched me, well they did when they tried to corner me and when they carried me here. But that David guy gives me the creeps.”

The way she was speaking, you weren’t sure she was understanding what you were saying. Which was both comforting that it was such an unfathomable thought in her mind, no real weight to the phrase of the words. But it was also damning in the way she really had no idea what you were talking about, her innocence and gullibility on the matter something you thought telling of her age and life thus far. But she had to know, she needed to be aware of the way people would take everything from one another, even if it would be a hard conversation to have, a hard pane of glass to shatter in her perception of the world she was now in the midst of outside the QZ walls.

“Don’t let him get you alone, you hear me? Do not let him touch you. He is a bad, terrible man. He’s a fucking-“

Ellie said your real name, the one printed neatly on your old license she had been so fascinated with.

“I think Joel is dying. I…I tried to trade with David, for some medicine, but when his guy came back with it they cornered me and said they were looking for the man who killed someone from their group back on the campus, that he had been traveling with a girl. They knew it was me, that it was us. He’s…Joel… he’s- he won’t wake up. I tried to do it how your showed me and I didn’t know where to put the medicine but I tried, he…he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“You’re okay, Ellie, I promise. You did,” You walk up to the fence separating you from each other, sticking your fingers through the gaps to get her to grasp as your hands. You were thankful she wasn’t tied up as you were but it also made your heart weary because it meant that this David was still trying to keep her guard down. “Everything you could. That medicine, even if it was put in the wrong spot, is what saved his life, he’s not waking up because it’s strong, it was penicillin, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I think that’s what they called it.”

“That’s perfect, Ellie. That’s exactly what he needed. It’s a strong one, it’s in his system and he’s going to be okay. You stitched him up, you can lord that over him if you want once he’s better. Everything is going…everything it going to be okay.”

You could tell she wasn’t completely believing of your words but she was taking them, her furrowed brow relaxed just a bit and her fingers tangled with your own. She rested her forehead, swollen with a gash across the left side against the fence and you mimicked her.

“I was so scared.” She admitted on a quiet breath.

“I know, baby, but it’s okay. You did it, you got through the scary moment. Now all that’s left is to get out of here and back to Joel. He’s hidden somewhere, yeah? You made sure he was safe and inside somewhere?”

“Yeah, yes, he’s,” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know how far it is, but he’s in a house, I dragged him to the basement and made sure he had all the sleeping bags and blankets on him, he…he looked so helpless. Bean, he looked-“

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise you, it’s all gonna be okay. He’s strong, he can-“

“He’s so stupid! You both are! None of this would have happened if you two hadn’t fought and just- we would’ve been together and those guys wouldn’t have gotten us if you two had fought them off!”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. We- we didn’t, we…needed some space. Joel, he-“

“He’s a fucking baby! He’s…he’s dying and he…he won’t even get to see you one last time.”

“Hey!” You couldn’t help the sharp tone nor the volume of your shout. “Ellie, you look at me and you listen.”

She does, her eyes wide and shining as she takes in the sight of you tied up and confined just like she is.

The situation is anything but ideal, it’s heartbreaking and too heavy on your shoulders. But at least you were with her now, she had help now. She wasn’t alone.

“Joel is not going to die. You got him the medicine he needed. It takes time. You and I are going to get out of this situation, we will. And then we will find him. We are going to be okay, it was a lesson that needed to be learned and it will stick. You need to understand that things happen for a reason. This is one of those times and no one is at fault.”

She nods, once and then again before she’s moving about her enclosure and explaining to you the ways she’s tried to find weaknesses in it. No screws were loose, no bars were rusted or weak. The window was too high, the fence too strong. You’re watching her as you tear at the rope once again with your teeth, the sound of it tearing quiet and rattling through you each time a thread snapped.

Ellie’s body is suddenly flying to the chain link barrier that separates you, her breathing harsh.

“Ear.”

“Ear?”

“On the floor, by the drain.”

“What- oh.” You feel your stomach lurch when you spot it, the cut off cartilage laying beside a drain surrounded by thick drops of dried blood.

“They-“

“They’re monsters.”

The door was opening before you could say anything else. The evidence of how these people lived, of how David provided for his people telling you how depraved and desperate they were. How he chose to feed his people when there was ample woods and forest to hunt in just beyond the cluster of buildings they reside in, the houses only a short trek nearby they could scavenge in.

He wasn’t what you pictured, but he was exuding predatory energy as he approached the chain link fencing of the enclosure. Rather thin and with waning fair hair, he knelt down to slide a tray adorned with a bowl of something far too bright red, a spoon, and a mug of water. You sincerely hope Ellie hadn’t taken anything offered to her, not putting it past the man to drug her. But she remains as close to you as she can get, hand reaching for yours through the fence.

“I don’t have enough for you both. But I assume you wouldn’t care for anything I offered.” David aims at you, eyes trained on the way Ellie is clinging to you as best she can. How she’s still as a statue and her own eyes are trained on the food given to her.

You don’t say anything, unsure of what you would even if your voice came back to you. The rope still wrapped but no longer knotted around your wrists allows you to feel powerful if only a little.

Ellie looks from the food finally, toward the ear and David follows her gaze as he remains kneeled on the ground. He seems almost remorseful at the discovery you two had made in his absence and you wonder if his people knew the truth about the food they were consuming. A part of you hoped they had no clue, even if it meant David felt no fear or shame about manipulating those who willingly followed him to the very edge of humanity.

“For what it’s worth, this is just deer meat. I swear.” He tries to hide his monstrosity, to no avail. You wouldn’t believe him even if you didn’t know him, even if you were starving.

“You’re going to chop me up into little pieces. Both of us.”

“I’d rather not,” He keeps her gaze, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence in the face of Ellie’s fear. He’s feeding off it, reveling in the way she’s speaking willingly for what you believe the first time since he turned on her in the woods and she ran from him. “Please, just tell me your name.”

“If you wanna judge me-“

“Judge you?” She’s shouting, her voice harsh as she lets go of your hand and storms up to the door of her enclosure, far too close to the man for your comfort. But she kicks at the tray, sending it flying across the floor and knocking into the large butchers block atop a storage table cemented into the ground, the too red meat splashes color onto the dull tile. “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

David is surging up, though every move he’s making is calculated. He doesn’t look shocked or surprised, not taken aback by the words or actions of Ellie as she turns her back on him and corners herself as far away from the door as possible.

“Yes. There are only a few of us that know.” “But I would’ve told you.”

He’s watching you now, just past her. Calculating as he takes in the way your body is practically shaking as instincts warn you to get as far away from this man and this place as possible.

“I would’ve told you and your mother. Sooner or later. I guess sooner, to help tide you into our group.”

“You’re an animal.”

“Well, yes, we all are. That’s sorta the point.” David agrees, not wanting to dispute her, trying to earn her favor by being frank.

“It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do?”

“I would not let these people starve. These people who put their lives in my hands, who e-expect me to keep them safe, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Ellie replies quickly, her emotions beginning to get the better of her. But you meet the man’s gaze and sneer opening at him.

“There are woods just beyond here, houses and neighborhoods to scavenge. You have men, could they not provide in a better way? No, I suppose not, because you’re weak. Helpless in the face of the world, of the way things are. You’d rather tear people down and prey on them instead of think critically, you’re nothing but a weak leader, guiding your people to their death.”

“Starvation would’ve only set in sooner if I were to concentrate efforts on such fruitless endeavors. I don’t think you believe it would’ve been better. I don’t think your friend would either.” He’s moving, mirroring Ellie’s pacing as he looks down at the food she’s wasted. “Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“He was defending himself.”

“He was defending you.” He meets her steps as she stops, standing right in front of her with nothing but the bars and air separating them, and you feel every muscle in your body tense. “But you knew that.”

“You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you? Me.” His smile is small but he truly believes the words he’s spouting, the intent behind them clear. He means to take her under his wing, to mold her into a reflection of himself. Manipulate her into an image of his likeness. “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, you’re smart…loyal.”

“Violent.” He concludes, seeing the was she’s trembling with emotion.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“But I do. If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. And you wouldn’t look to the woman behind you, you would do it without a thought. You have a violent heart. And I should know.” He stalks closer, his steps quiet and measured. “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time.”

Your blood runs cold, the words flowing from the man chilling your very soul. He was depraved, he was sick as he tried to appeal to Ellie, to connect with her. His words revealing in more ways than he realized, than Ellie was able to read. You were sure she had no clue what he was doing, not exactly. Not aware of the way he was seeking her out and it made your heart ache even more so as you watched it happen in real time, the dance he orchestrates to get those he’s interested in to see him, to hear him. To fall in line and dance with him.

“But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…by God.” Ellie dubiously connects the dots of the man’s speech. But he’s not making much sense to her, you can tell. The message is loud and clear to you. He’s been inspired, taken the world as it fell and turned it into his own playground of sorts. You’ve encountered men like him before, set to play God and manipulate the conditions around them to their favor. The shepherd to lead sheep blindly as they need something to cling to. Something to believe in. But he’s a false prophet, one that is selfish and wasteful, no skills of his own to fall on so he uses those around him to his advantage, to propel himself into the next day, time and time again.

“No. By cordyceps.” He sounds reverent, praising and preaching the very thing that eradicated humanity in droves. Sounding so much like those that used to deliver sermons and dictate what sins the people before him had committed, promising them salvation when he was the one to damn them in the first place with perceived power he did not truly possess. “What does cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you can handle it. The way the others can’t.” He stalks even closer. More measured steps, as calculated at his words. “They need God. They need heaven. They need…they need a father. You don’t.”

The room is silent, his focus not leaving her even as you shift on your aching feet.

“You don’t. You’re beyond that.” He repeats, appealing to her. Admonishing her with praise and tenacity for being ‘better’ than those he believes he needs to look out for and is responsible for. “I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

“What about my friend?” Ellie demands, Joel on her mind as the man in front of her displays the complete opposite of everything he stands for. It makes her wish for him to be here, to be better, to beat the threat into submission as it closes in on her. But he’s not here, it’s just her and him. You are too trapped to help in your own cell.

“Like I said, loyal. I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

“Really? They’ll just let him go?” She’s matching his steps now and your stomach plummets.

“Yes. If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go. The woman behind you too, should she leave peacefully as well. They do what I tell them to do. They follow me.”

“And they would follow us. Lord knows I could use the help. I- Look what’s happened.” He reaches out and places a hand on the bars of the door, causing you to step forward as far as you can into the fence that separates you from Ellie. The target the man has set his sights on. “Think of what we could do together, as strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie’s reaching to touch a hand of her own to his and you feel something in you snap, you didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was doing and it was heartbreaking to see her move toward the man manipulating her. Playing her, dancing so eloquently around her and ensnaring her in his orbit. If only she would fucking look back at you over her shoulder. His hand moves to rest over hers and you feel the cold touch of his fingers as if he had touched you instead of her. The chilling skin of someone who had done this before, who was doing it again. Heeding the example of the very thing that had ruined the world as if it was something to admire. “Imagine the life we could give them. Imagine the life we could build.”

“Oh.” Her voice is so small, so quiet. And you feel acid bubble and rise to your throat as she brings her other hand to rest over his, cradling his hand almost.

And then her shoulders tense and she’s snapping his fingers, the loud cracking of bone filling the air as the man wails out, crumbles at the assault.

Ellie makes a grab for the keys hanging from his belt, but he snatches the front of her sweater and pulls her harshly into the bars. Her head collides with one and she’s reeling back before he has the chance to tighten his grip on her again, tearing out of it.

“You little cunt.” He swears, cradling his wounded hand tight to his chest. Anger colors him, shakes him to his core as he realizes the task he set for himself won’t be as easy as he anticipated. “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

“Ellie.”

“What?” Turning, he seems taken aback by the quiet admittance from the young girl. As if he isn’t quite sure he heard her correctly or he could believe that she chose now of all times to answer his questions.

“Tell them that Ellie is the little girl- who broke your fucking finger!” She shouts so loudly that she shakes with it, the words nearly growled out.

“How did you put it? Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces’?” He taunts, though you can see the fear shift into a twisted sense of admiration. Frustration at being bested turning into confidence in her skills and the desire to best her glimmering in his eye before he turns away completely.

As soon as the door slams behind him and the lock clicks, she’s rushing across her enclosed space and reaching for you. She’s hiccupping and coughing as blood drips down her nose and busted lip, smearing it all over your own sweater as you try to hold her to you as best you could through the divide.

The door opens once again, some time later but it’s not David that enters. It’s two men with a third behind them. The lock of your cell clicks loudly as they open in and step inside, two of them while the third remains by the door.

The two men who were approaching you with a needle had you standing so fast your knees cracked. In her own cage, Ellie flew up to stand from her own crouch as close as she could get to you. She watched as you stood as straight at you could, to make yourself look as tall as possible and she mirrored it. The two men worked together to lock the slim opening behind them, keys going into a front pocket. There was rope in one of their hands, the other with the needle.

“We got you cornered, don’t know why David was insistent on locking you up, you’re no bigger than the girl. Look about as frail as her too.”

“Pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Wouldn’t mind giving you the promise of safety here if it meant-“

“Enough, do not taunt her. She’s liable to be just as violent as the man.”

David appeared in the doorway of the space, watching with a newly bandaged hand. You couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in your middle at that. Ellie had done good, even if it had been hard to watch. Hard to watch and hear as he propositioned her. You had been in too much pain to do much about it, but it had allowed you to see what he was truly wanting with the young girl you considered family. The same he had wanted from your younger cousin. He was a sick, twisted man. Vile in the worst way one could be.

“You think I’m trapped in here with you?” You clicked your tongue at them, bringing your arms up to fend them off should they take one step closer to you, revealing that you had gotten out of your bindings. Your smile was wicked as you stared at them both, daring them to close the gap. “You’re trapped in here with me.”

You tried to focus on the man helping David drag the young girl from her own cage and the two coming at you, but it was all chaos. Loud, screaming, threatening and chilling chaos. They lunged at you, throwing the blanket they had in their grip over you and then you found yourself being hauled up by your thrashing hands and feet, each man holding tight to your body as they carried you out of the room.

As you’re being carried out, you hear another man and David’s voice speaking. Ellie is furious, her rage and desperation coming into play as you disappear and she’s left along with the man whose set his intentions on her. You try to scream, to tell her to run, to hurt, to kill and David’s laugh is the last thing you hear before gravity shifts and you’re in a new room separate from them.

There was a table, and a few chairs, that much was all you knew as your back was slammed onto a hard surface. The feeling of your pants being tugged at striking a primal fear deep inside your chest. It’s useless, your hands are bound once again between two larger ones, and the blanket over your form prohibits you from fighting back as well as you want to. The knife that you feel cutting at the fabric of your jeans tearing into your skin around your thighs and you try to scream and snarl as you rock yourself back and forth between the two men. You manage to kick the one with the knife at the end of the table and you head him land hard on the ground, the blade clattering to the floor.

Surging up, you spin and kick at the other man, tearing the blanket from over your head and diving off the table to grab at the fallen weapon. It’s your machete and you smile, tasting blood from the scuffle as you take in the small room you had been dragged to. The man you kicked had fallen harshly enough to open the back of his head and he lay motionless on the ground, a chair thrown from his body careening through the air.

The second man is reaching for you, grabbing at your hair and pulling you to him. The needle that had been in his grip in the other room plunges into your arm and a scream bubbles up. The blade in your hand is cutting you lose, thick strands of your hair flying up into the air as you fall to the ground from the force of being freed. He’s hissing, the blade having caught along his fingers. You try to get back up on your feet just in time to see him reaching for something hidden in the waistband of his pants

You’re lunging at him with the blade gripped tight in your hand. His stomach bleeds where you cut him and he moves his hands over the seeping wound with a strangled sound of protest. Its deep, his widened eyes meeting yours just before he collapses.

Rushing, you stormed into the room you had been taken from to see Ellie grabbing hold of a knife and slashing the man who had taken a step back from where she was laid out on a table much like you had been. Thankfully all of her clothes were in place and she seemed relatively unharmed. Blood sprayed into the air and David seemed to be shocked by her violence, stunned into silence for a moment long enough to allow the young girl to scramble off the butcher’s block and through the door.

David doesn’t even glance at you as he chases after her, the door locking behind him as your body slams into it. He smiles something vile and sickly sweet before he’s off after her, disappearing from view.

A few moments later, the smell of smoke and fire waft down the hall. Your efforts intensify, the need to find Ellie consuming you. Your mind focused on her and only her even as the skin of your thighs sting and bleed. The hair that had fallen loose tangles and swings with your efforts to break the door down, the wood of it getting too hot to slam your fists into or jostle the doorknob. Huffing a breath, you look around the room but there’s nothing to use to knock it loose.

As carefully as you can, you grip the top of the handle of the machete and slam the butt of it down on the doorknob. Once and then again, the splintering of wood loud even as the crackling of flames becomes obvious as the door pops open. It’s all smoke and darkness as you shuffle through the room in the crouch. The sound of flames licking at the support beams of thick wood loud, the taste and smell of smoke tickling your lungs when you finally see a figure downed on the ground.

Heart beating harshly, you approach it with your weapon held in front, but it’s not Ellie needing to be saved. It’s David. And he’s dead. His face bloody and broke, his body limp and immobile.

Ellie is no where to be seen and the room’s heat tries to take you for a second victim.

You collided with something hard and solid as you tear out of the building, the force of it knocking you down to the ground. The impact of your body sending snow flying up, blood smearing the ground in a bright display. You shouted as you fell, terror being the only thing that could be heard in your wordless exclamation. You spun from your side quickly, neck hurting from moving so fast, only to see two more men around you, just as shocked where they had been knocked down at the impact. They didn’t have any weapons but that didn’t matter. Everyone and anyone in this whole god damn place was a threat.

A stab of worry has you gasping for air as you quickly righted yourself, hoping Ellie had gotten out of here without running into anyone else. You had no idea what had happened between the time she had escaped and you had managed to do the same. The building you had burst from was crackling behind you, flames rising high despite the freezing temperatures. But the mangled body of David was the only clue as to what had happened. You spotted a third figure approaching in the distance, though it was moving fairly slowly toward you.

With a loud shriek you lunged at the man still on the ground, the other struggling to right himself where he had fallen over his own feet. The machete in your grip came to catch the man before you across his front, his shouts and pleas falling on deaf ears as you could feel your whole-body struggle against the drugs still pumping through your veins, your mind focused on one thing: survival. The squelching sound of you cutting into his throat had the other man struggling to get on his feet stumble in shock at the brutality.

“What the fuck!” His shout was loud, his eyes wide as he watched you murder his companion. All they had done was come out see what the roaring of the fire had been, you had flown from the building as they talked over what could’ve happened.

You round on him, eyes wild as he just shouted at you, trying to get away from you as quickly as he could. The snow was falling so heavily, the denseness of it already built up on the ground tripping him up on his injured ankles. He turned back to look at you over his shoulder, freezing as he saw the figure closing in behind you. You turn slightly as well to see how much distance there was between you and both men. You sprinted forward toward the one trying to get away, him being the closer of the two. He shouts as he throws his entire body to run into you, knocking over your smaller frame, hands scrabbling for the blade in your hands. It was knocked away as your back hit the ground, the man falling over you. He righted himself, legs on either side of you and your mind went white in rage.

“Not again!” You shriek, bringing your knees up to knock into him, kicking with all your might. Your hands grappling for a grip on his arms, you managed to land a few hits and used his moment of stillness to push up. You slammed his back on the ground hard as you flipped over, the pain immobilizing him just enough for you to do so. You realized you were screaming as your clenched fists landed hit after hit to his face, his neck, his chest. Blood was flying off your knuckles to splatter in the snow, on your face, your hands covered in the thick red liquid. You were sure it was just another layer to the grime and dried blood that had already covered your entire body and form. When the man went still below you, you crawled to where the machete had fallen in the scuffle. You brought it up to cover your front as you turned on your back, the figure too close for you to risk scrambling back up. Your chest heaving, your clothes were ripped, you were covered in blood and your eyes were wild as they connected with a pair of brown ones above you.

The figure pauses, hands coming up in front of them, but you weren’t taking anymore chances. The figure didn’t make another move toward you, but you weren’t seeing anything other than a threat. Your mind blurring the figure in front of you into every man that had every tried to touch you, into every man that had. You got your feet up under you and pushed yourself to stand, machete coming up and swiping as you try to put more distance between you and the tall figure. They hiss as the sharp edge of the blade catches one of their raised forearms.

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ touch me!” You holler, voice hoarse and so unlike your own. It’s tone low, it was terrifying, it was a touch desperate, and it was exactly how you were afraid of being heard. But it was harsh, tone hard and serious. You couldn’t stop the words from tearing through your throat, nearly growled out. “Your fuckin’ friends are dead and I’ll kill you too!”

You sway on your feet, the drugs in your system still fighting to overpower you. Your hair wild and loose, the choppy strands evidence of where you had cut it to try and free yourself earlier. The move had only saved you minutes of agony, years of growth erased in one swift motion. Your shoulders ached as you kept the blade up between you and the figure. They hadn’t moved, hands still held up in front of them and that’s when you realized they were talking to you. That you were still making guttural sounds deep in your raw throat. Warnings aimed at them to not get closer to you, that you would kill them just as swiftly as you had the others who opposed your escape. The hesitant voice cutting through the haze of your mind. Your eyes focused, the figure coming into view. It was Joel. But it had registered a second too late, you had already lunged at them, blade swinging.

He grunts as the blade makes contact with his shoulder. You had tried to stop the momentum, but you had swung so hard that between him not moving to save himself and you realizing it was him too late, the blade still cut into him. It wasn’t deadly, as it would’ve been, but it wasn’t a shallow hit either. He’s missing his jacket, the remaining layers of his clothes took most of the damage, but he would need stitches. The blade is still gripped tight in your hands, but it was lowered now, shaking. He looks from the new wound to you, his hands wanting to grasp at it but not doing so out of fear of triggering another swing. His eyes are pleading, he’s desperate for you to see that it’s him, not someone who was trying to harm you

“It’s me, it’s Joel.” He didn’t dare say you were okay. He knows you aren’t. He knows Ellie wasn’t from the way she had been screaming much the same way when he had found her. Her fear had been heartbreaking, it had hurt beyond words to see her, to hear the sheer terror in her voice as she had hit and fought against him before she realized who he was. Yours was shattering, you were covered in more blood, and from the looks of it a lot of it was yours. Not the way he envisioned seeing you again after going about your separate ways. His eyes lingered on the rips in your pants, blood coating your thighs underneath.

“J-Joel?” You repeated, as if it was a foreign name, as if he wasn’t real. He hadn’t been, during the entire ordeal. Ellie telling you what had happened, the way she had tried to help him, you had compartmentalized his death already. Knowing the odds of fighting off a wound like that, dirty stitches made with a rusted needle, infection quick to set in even in far better circumstances. It had been logical, the only outcome for such a medical condition in this time with no aid, no sterile environment.

You were still heaving, trying to regain your breath, the drugs in your system making it hard to do so. You swayed again but didn’t release your tight grip on your weapon, on your salvation. You startled so badly you swung out as the building on fire lost part of its roof to a cave in. Joel stepped back quickly at the motion, not wanting another harsh cut. That machete was dangerous on its own, but in your hands, it was an extension of yourself, lethal, not to be taken lightly.

“Joel?” Your voice sounded clearer, the height of your emotions calming slightly. You shook your head, not believing it, your emotions and the drugs blurring your vision of the only man you trusted.

“It’s me, I promise.” He dared to step toward you, reaching out to you slowly. You seemed to be frozen, eyes fixated on him. He was squarely in front of you now, his hands coming out to grasp over yours on the handle of the machete. He gently pried it from you, you still beneath him. The second it was out of your hands, he moved to place it in his bag, sealing it away. When he turned back to face you, you threw yourself at him, burying your face in his chest. He could feel your body convulse with harsh sobs, the sounds of you trying to suck in oxygen hiccupped by shuddering cries. Your fingers were digging into his arms so tightly that it hurt but he didn’t dare say anything, he just slowly brought his arms around your back.

“We need to move before the rest of the town comes out.” He spoke lowly, not wanting to spook you into throwing punches. He had seen you pummel that man’s face to nothing, and it scared him you could do the same to him in a blind panic. You just nodded, not moving, body shivering against him as he tried to console you. He didn’t think he would ever be able to, not with this, not with what his brain was telling him had happened here in this nightmare of a town. He tried to take a step, but you didn’t budge, hands tightening on him. “Darlin’, we gotta move.”

“I can’t f-feel my legs. They drugged me and I think it’s kicking in.” You looked up at him, eyes shiny with tears. You looked so defeated and he was scared you were going to look like that for the rest of your life. He couldn’t see any part of the woman you were before this in your face, in your eyes. He hadn’t seen any of who Ellie had been before either and his heart hurt in his chest. He pulled away from you and moved to scoop you up bridal style, but you weakly pushed at him. “No, you’re gonna hurt yourself, p-pull your stitches.”

You shift on your feet, leaning heavily into his left side.

“I got Ellie safe in the brush, I didn’t want to leave her, but she said they still had you locked up.” He didn’t dare say locked up in a cage, the feeling of those words settling heavily in him. They had locked you and Ellie up like animals, like things to be used at their convenience. The fire spread to the surrounding buildings, the freezing air offering no relief for the town. “She told me to save you, that they-“

“They’re dead.” The parody of a conversation from long ago in the darkness of a small forest clearing not lost on either of you.

“I know, darlin’. But we gotta go. Now.” He watches as splotches of color began to pepper the snow, people emerging from the buildings. People he didn’t have the energy to kill now that he had you in his arms and Ellie was waiting for them to retrieve her. As you hastily distanced yourself from the burning town, you felt Joel lean into you as much as you were leaning into him. Two broken and beaten people trying to offer whatever solace as you retrieved Ellie. She was smothered between you both, shielding her from the world as you moved further, further, further away. The snow was blinding as it whipped around your little trio but you didn’t look back. None of you did.

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bwabys-scenarios · 11 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

Part 23

part 22

part 24

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warning: mentions of vomiting, characters sick, Kurapika keeps trying to cop a feel while he’s sick and feverish, mentions of child abuse/neglect, Killua has abandonment issues

A/N: shout-out to @bugmomwrites for helping me with this chapter!!

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah

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(Name) was woken up at 3 am the next night by a knock on her door. She blinked awake slowly, wobbling over to the door before opening it.

Gon stood behind it, looking a little pale, with flushed cheeks. “(Name)… I threw up…”

(Name) took a moment to stare at him, taking a deep breath before sighing. “Come here baby, I’ll get you some medicine.”

Gon sat on her bed as she fished through her cabinet for some medicine, but he came rushing into her bathroom to throw up into the toilet again before she could find it.

“Oh, Gon…”

She patted his back as he hurled, cooing softly. “That’s it sweetheart, get it all up. I’m here.”

When he was done, she gently wiped his face before guiding him back to her bed. “Lay down… shit, you’re burning up!”

(Name) rubbed his back before standing back up. ‘Shit… I hope this is just some food poisoning and not anything contagious.’

It didn’t take long for Killua and Kurapika to arrive as well, both looking tired and confused.

“What’s wrong with Gon? He ran out of our room a minute ago…” Killua asked, concern evident in his tired eyes.

“Yeah, I heard him throwing up in the downstairs bathroom.” Kurapika said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

(Name) sighed softly, comforting Gon as he held his stomach. “I’m not sure, I would call Leorio to come check on him, but after he helped me drop off my van yesterday, he had to leave for a medical conference hosted by his college. He’ll be busy for the next few days.”

Killua sat down next to (Name) patting Gon’s back tenderly. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m here.”

Kurapika yawned. “I’m going back to bed, come get me if something else happens.”

The blonde left, walking downstairs. “Killua, you should get to bed too. I’ll take care of Gon, you get some rest.”

Killua looked like he didn’t want to leave, gently brushing some of Gon’s hair back. “I’ll be okay, Killua. (Name) will take care of me…”

Killua swallowed, glancing at (Name) before getting up and leaving. “Goodnight…”

(Name) took care of Gon through the night, barely getting any sleep. Near dawn, Gon settled down enough for her to pass out next to him, only to be awakened two hours later by the sound of someone throwing up.

“Gon, baby, do you need me to come hold your hair-“

But Gon was still lying next to her in bed, face flushed with fever.

“No…”

She jumped up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sprinted down the stairs. In the hallway, Killua said in a crumpled heap, vomit covering the floor. “Oh, Killua…”

He looked up weakly, looking absolutely miserable. “I tried to get to the bathroom…”

Her heart broke, he looked embarrassed and was attempting to stand and clean up his mess. “No, no sweetheart it’s okay. Shh…”

She gently picked him up, carrying the teen to the living room and laying him down on the couch. She grabbed a bucket and put a trash bag in it, setting it beside him before covering him in a blanket. “Rest sweetheart, if you can’t make it to the bathroom, there’s a bucket right there okay?”

He nodded, eyes fluttering closed as he panted softly. (Name) placed her hand on his forehead, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. ‘He has a fever too. Well, this confirms it, whatever Gon has is contagious.’

(Name) made quick work of cleaning up the throw up in the hallway, hearing a door open near her and someone yawn. “(Name)? What are y-“

He spotted what she was cleaning up and made a face. “Did Gon walk downstairs just to throw up on the floor?”

(Name) held back a snicker, giving him a look. “No, Killua is sick too. Speaking of Gon, do you think you can carry him downstairs? It’ll be easier to take care of them both if they’re in the same spot.”

Kurapika nodded. “I’ll put some coffee on too.”

(Name) sighed in relief, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

(Name) placed an air mattress on the floor, finishing blowing it up just in time for Kurapika to come in carrying Gon. “He’s burning up.”

(Name) nodded. “Yeah, it’s about time for his next round of medicine.”

Kurapika watched as she quickly gave the both of them medication, before sitting down at the kitchen table to sip her coffee. From the bags under her eyes and her messy hair he could tell she barely slept.

“(Name)… do you need some help? Taking care of two kids won’t be easy.”

She nodded, rubbing her temple. “Yes, that would make things a hell of a lot easier on me.”

The blonde followed her to the kitchen, watching as she began taking out vegetables. “You can cut these up while I put some chicken on to boil. After that I’ll need to check their temperature again.”

The sound of one of them throwing up again had her rushing out of the kitchen. Kurapika winced. ‘How is she able to deal with that? I can’t even look at vomit without getting sick.’

He sat at the kitchen table cutting up vegetables, glancing up when she walked back in. “Killua is still throwing up, and can’t keep his medicine down. I’m hoping if I get his fever to go down he’ll be able to take some medicine, so I’ll need to cool him off…”

She got a rag wet, squeezing out the excess water before returning to place it on his forehead. “Mom… mom please don’t go…”

Killua grabbed her arm, his face flushed with fever. She sighed, gently pushing back his hair. “I’m so sorry, Killua, but I have to cook and take care of Gon too. I promise when I’m done I’ll come and sit with you, okay?”

He nodded slowly, letting her sleeve go. (Name) gave him a soft smile before she returned to the kitchen to wash her hands. “Kurapika, could you go watch over them while I cook? Just come get me if they start throwing up or if they need me.”

(Name) continued cooking, pulling on her frilly pink apron. It only took five minutes for Kurapika to walk back in, looking defeated.

“Kurapika? Do they need something?”

He shook his head, collapsing into a chair. “Killua started crying as soon as I showed my face. He said he already felt sick enough without having me ‘stinking up the place’.”

He used air quotes on the last part, giving (Name) an annoyed look. “Even when he’s sick he’s such a-“

“Kurapika.”

She wielded a wooden spoon, shaking it at him. “He’s sick, I promise he doesn’t actually hate you.”

She turned back to the stove, frowning. “Probably.”

Kurapika scoffed, crossing one leg over the other. “Even you can’t say for sure if he hates me. What have I don’t that’s so bad he can’t even let me take care of him?”

The silence that filled the kitchen was deafening.

‘Oh. That, I did that.’

Kurapika rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, remembering all the things he’s said and done. “(Name), I…”

She held up her hand, glancing back at him with a soft smile. “Please, I don’t want to think about that right now. I have enough on my mind.”

He looked at his lap, clutching the fabric of his sweatpants. Kurapika hated that he couldn’t just apologize and move on.

He held onto his anger, it was the only thing that kept him warm at night during those two years he spent apart from her. If it faded away and she didn’t want him, what would he have left? He’d spent half his life in a blinding rage, stuck in the past. Kurapika didn’t know anything else.

So he stayed quiet, helping her prepare the chicken noodle soup and hand out medicine. Kurapika at least wanted to be somewhat useful to her, after taking advantage of her love and kindness over and over again.

Kurapika spent the next few hours hovering around her, jumping up to do whatever she asked of him. Unfortunately, Kurapika hadn’t taken care of someone sick since he was young. Pairo was the last person he’d tended to in such a way, and that had been nearly a decade ago.

He attempted to carry their soup to them, only to spill it. “It’s okay, Kurapika, I can just make them some more. Just clean it up for me!”

She came back after feeding them to see him sulking in his seat, his shirt covered in soup. “… Kurapika? What happened?”

“… I fell in the soup.”

“What?”

She tried not to laugh, but he was looking up at her, his shirt covered in soup, looking distraught.

“Haha, go change, silly.”

She pulled him up, patting his back reassuringly. “Okay… I’ll be right back.”

——————

(Name) collapsed onto the air mattress her and Kurapika would be sharing, the blonde rubbing soothing circles into her back. “You should rest, (Name). If they make some sound, you’ll hear them.”

She whines a little, groaning into her pillow. “Ugh… you’re right but just thinking of them getting sick and not having me with them makes me anxious. Killua gets… he gets scared when I’m gone for too long.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. “Scared? Why would Killua be scared if you’re gone for too long?”

She was hiding something from him, and it was beginning to frustrate him. “What are you hiding from me, (Name)? Something happened to have Killua act like this. He has nightmares, he can’t be away from you too long… what happened?”

She couldn’t look at him, pulling the blanket they shared up to her chin. “… it’s too much for you. You don’t want to know.”

Kurapika scoffed, causing her to blink and look at him. “Oh please, you think anything you been through is worse than what I’ve dealt with?”

When she didn’t answer and instead scooted away from him, he stopped, attempting to place a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, (Name), I didn’t mean it like th-“

She pushed his hand off of his shoulder, facing away from him. “… just go to sleep, Kurapika.”

Kurapika didn’t push any further, cursing himself for being stupid. But a part of him really believed what he said. What could she have gone through that he wouldn’t be able to handle hearing?

If only he knew.

——————

(Name) fell asleep angry, and hurt. ‘How could he say that? He doesn’t even know what happened, the pain we went through…’

But when she woke up a few hours later, hearing the man behind her groaning in pain, her anger faded away into worry. “Kurapika?”

She attempted to turn around to look at him, but was kept still by his arms wrapping around her waist. She kept still, gently grasping his hand. “Are you okay?”

His hand was hot and clammy, his breath warm against her neck. He was panting, and just from the sound of his breathing alone he could hear he was congested.

(Name) attempted to get up, but the blonde whined, pulling her closer. “No… don’t leave… I’m sorry for… for earlier…”

She was trying to get up to get him some medicine before he got any worse, having forgotten his harsh words from before. “Kurapika…”

He nuzzled his head into her shoulder, panting softly. “Please… just… just want you to stay with me…”

She wanted to wiggle away, to scold him, but couldn’t. His hands were trembling, his tone desperate and needy. Kurapika needed her in this moment, and she wouldn’t deny him human kindness and comfort.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

This caused the blonde to relax, his grip loosening slightly. She reached her hand back to caress his cheek. “Go back to sleep, Kurapika. You’re going ti need it.”

As if he was a child being commanded to sleepy by his mother, the usually defiant Kurapika settled back down, falling asleep against her.

(Name) waited for him to fall into a deep sleep before she wiggled out of his grasp and stood up to check on the others. Both of them were still sound asleep, so she simply replaced the rags on their foreheads with fresh, cool ones to keep their fevers down before grabbing some medicine for Kurapika.

His face was flushed, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for (Name) in his sleep. She held onto his hand, the blonde relaxing once she did. “Kurapika, sweetheart, wake up.”

He did, looking absolutely miserable. She helped him sit up, letting the blonde lean against her shoulder as she gave him his medicine.

She turned, about to leave to put the medicine up. “You’re doing good, Pika. Now just lay back d-“

Before she could finish, the blonde pulled her into his arms by her hips. She squeaked, feeling him nuzzle into her neck, leaving little kisses on her sensitive skin.

“H-hey, stop th-“

She gasped when his hand travelled down, playing with waistband of her panties. His breath was hot against her neck, and she could feel his hard on pressing against her ass.

“Made me… made me feel good in the van. Wanna… return the favor…”

She wiggled in his grasp, face burning hot. “K-Kurapika, you don’t have to do that, you’re sick, you’re not thinking str-“

The feeling of his warm fingers sliding into her panties made her whine, and she knew if she couldn’t reason with him, she’d have to take drastic measures.

“Sorry, Pika!”

She grabbed his arm and used her nen to speed up his cells, making his grip loosen as he lost consciousness due to the stamina his body would need to catch up.

(Name) sighed in relief, wiggling out of his arms and deciding to sleep on the floor instead.

But she couldn’t help the warmth pooling between her legs, the woman biting her lip as she slipped her hand downwards. ‘He… he was so close to touching me…’

——————

(Name) woke up to the sound of someone shuffling past her to the bathroom. She looked up to see Gon, his face pale and eyes sleepy.

‘At least he’s able to walk.’ she thought, sitting up and stretching. (Name) glanced down at Kurapika, who was panting and sweating in his sleep.

“Shit, Kurapika? Are you okay?”

When he didn’t answer, she sprinted to the kitchen to get a cool, wet rag. She placed it on his forward, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face.

It took a few minutes, but when he cooled down enough, he looked up at her with blurry eyes.

“Hahh… you’re like… an angel…”

She blinked, her own cheeks beginning to heat up. “H-huh? Angel?”

He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, smiling fondly. “So pretty… my angel, my own angel…”

His words were making her head feel fuzzy, and she couldn’t help but look down at him, here eyes soft. “Mhm, I’m your angel, Kurapika. I’m here to take care of you.”

She caressed his cheek, helping to soothe him back to sleep. After that, she glanced over to see Killua watching her with a pout.

“You said you’d come sit with me…”

She tried not to laugh at his grumpy expression, standing up. “You’re right, I did. Make some room.”

(Name) sat down on the couch, turning the TV back on and letting killua lay his head in her lap. She played with his hair, watching as Gon walked back in. He took one look at the two before climbing onto the couch and laying next to Killua.

She wanted to squeal, the looked so cute cuddling together, their heads resting on her lap. After making sure they were sound asleep, (Name) took a quick picture of the two. ‘This is going on our Christmas card..’

(Name) only got up when their heads got too heavy, gently pushing them off before getting up to get their next round of medicine and food.

Killua and Gon munched on a banana each as (Name) spoon fed Kurapika some chicken noodle soup. Thankfully Kurapika hadn’t been throwing up, she had caught his sickness just in time to prevent him from getting to Gon and Killua’s stage.

“This is good… you made it?” Kurapika asked, still clinging to her.

“I did, and you helped me, remember?” she asked, gently wiping soup soup from his chin with a napkin. He looked at her with those hazy, half lidded eyes.

“Mmm… don’t think I did…”

He munched on some bread she served with the soup, leaning on her shoulder. Kurapika had been extremely clingy the past day, finding any opportunity to muzzle into her, his hands roaming downwards until they reached the waistband of her pants.

(Name) had to smack his hand, giving him a stern look. “No, Kurapika. No touching, now lay back down.”

He whined a little, pouting at her before turning around with a huff and covering his head with his blanket. Kurapika’s sock covered feet poked out, and (Name) could only snicker. ‘What a brat.’

As she got everyone ready for bed, (Name) realized she was starting to feel… tired. She looked over to the others, Gon and Killua shivering from fevers and Kurapika mumbling in his sleep about angels.

‘I hope I’m not sick too, who will take care of them?’

(Name) sighed, lying own on her makeshift pallet. “Goodnight, boys…”

In the middle of the night, (Name) woke with a start, jumping up and running to the bathroom. She barely had time to fall in front of the toilet before she was throwing up, moaning miserably.

“(Name)..?”

Kurapika stumbled to the bathroom, looking concerned. His face was still flushed with fever, but he sat behind her and pulled her hair back as she continued. “It’s okay…”

He patted her back, trying to be as soothing as his fever riddled brain could let him.

When she was done, she stood up and walked with shaky legs to the sink, rinsing out her mouth and washing off her face. “Shit…”

Kurapika say ok the floor, watching her as she pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts, holding her stomach.

“(Name)? Sunshine, is something wrong?”

(Name) sighed, pushing back her hair from her sweaty forehead. “Leorio, when will you be back? The other three were sick and I was taking care of them, but now I’m sick too.”

“You’re sick? What are your symptoms?”

As (Name) listed out her symptoms, Kurapika couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault he was sick. He’d been clinging to her like a child, insisting she hold him.

But Kurapika hadn’t had someone to take care of him when he was sick for a while. After losing his clan at the age of twelve, he’d been taking care of himself since. There were days he’d sit in a tent, shivering from his fever and the cold as a thunderstorm raged outside, having no one but himself.

So when (Name) began taking care of him so tenderly, he leaned into it. His tired, feverish mind couldn’t help but want her comfort, it was as if the child inside him needed to be taken care of even more than his sickness.

“I can be home by tomorrow. Can you handle it until then?”

(Name) sighed into the phone, rubbing her forehead. “Yeah, yeah I can do it. Good thing I prepared s-“

She groaned, handing her phone to Kurapika as she began to vomit into the toilet again.

“(Name)? (Name) what’s going on?! Are you okay?”

Kurapika held the phone up to his ear, his words slightly slurred from the fever. “She’s throwing up, Leorio. What… what can I do to help her?”

Leorio sighed. “Just be there for her. Hold back her hair and help her lay back down. I’ve got to go, please… make sure she doesn’t overwork herself.”

The phone call ended, Kurapika moving to hold back her hair.

——————

“(Name)…”

Killua looked to the person he considered his mom, watching as she stumbled out of the kitchen, carrying medicine and food. “Mom, you shouldn’t be walking right now. You’re sick too.”

She sat down next to him and Gon, offering them some medicine. They took it, only because they didn’t want her stressing over it.

“I’m fine, Killua. If I don’t take care of us, then no one will. Leorio will be here by tomorrow, I can tough it out until then.”

She tried to smile to relieve his worries, but it didn’t seem to be working. Killua held onto her arm, his lip quivering. “Mom… please. I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Her eyes widened when tears started to fall down his cheeks. Gon, who had been silently watching moved closer to hug him, (Name) pulling them both into her arms. “Oh, killua baby, what’s gotten into you? You’ve never been a…”

He’d fallen asleep before she could say anything else, sniffling in his sleep. Gon gave her a look of concern, frowning. “He… he’s right, you should also rest. I… I…”

Gon started to cry too, and now she was having to tuck Killua in while Gon cried into her shoulder. ‘My poor babies…’

Kurapika watched this from his air mattress, clutching his pillow tight. ‘She’s trying so hard… I… I don’t want her to get any worse…’

And now he was crying too, (Name) spotting him. “K-Kurapika, you too? Why is everyone so sad?”

She sat on the floor so she could pat both of their heads, stretching her arms to reach them.

After they also fell asleep, she took some medicine for herself, eating a bit of a banana to put something on her stomach.

Memories of being a child flashed in her mind, specifically ones involving her and and brothers.

“Pepper, Mint, are you okay?”

(Name), then only 8 years old, stared down at her 4 year old twin brothers, who were crying with flushed cheeks. “Mama… mama…”

She sighed, pulling them close to her, kissing both of their heads. Her little brothers had called her mama ever since they learned how to speak.

(Name)’s mother wanted nothing to do with raising them after all, only providing the absolute bare needs. She did everything else. Dressing them, feeding them, taking care of them when they were sick, these were all things she had to do from a young age.

“What’s wrong? Are you tired?”

Mint shook his head, pointing to the bathroom. When she investigated, (Name) realized he had gotten sick and threw up. And she knew that if one of them were sick, the other was too, or would be soon enough.

She sighed, flushing the toilet and getting them to bed. “I’ll get you some medicine from Mom’s room. Just be good, okay? No crying and being loud, or Daddy will be mad.”

The twins nodded, curling up under (Name)’s comforter.

Going to their mothers room was never easy. The smell of cigarettes smoke and the lingering odor it left behind was enough to make anyone gag, especially a young child with asthma like (Name).

She held her shirt over her nose, tiptoeing to the bathroom, trying to be quiet.

“The hell are you sneaking around for?”

(Name) froze, a shiver running up her spine as she heard her mother sit up in bed. It was the middle of the night, and she was hoping she’d be knocked out well enough that (Name) wouldn’t have to worry.

“S-sorry mom, the twins are sick and I was getting them some medicine so I wouldn’t have to bother you.”

The woman scoffed, lighting up a a cigarette and taking a drag. “You’ve already bothered me plenty, you little pest. Get the medicine and get out of here, before your father wakes up and makes all of us deal with his bullshit.”

She nodded and quickly walked into the bathroom, grabbing the proper medicine then tiptoeing away. Her mother didn’t spare her a second glance, no thank you either. It’s not like (Name) was expecting it, her mother never thanked her for anything, but it would have been nice.

“Hey, wait a second (Name).”

The girl stopped, feeling a small stirring of hope in her chest as she turned to face her mother. “Yes, mom?”

The woman coughed into her fist, spitting into the trash next to her. “If you use up all that medicine, I’m taking it out of your lunch money for school. Not like you need the lunch anyways, god damn pig.”

(Name) quickly turned away before her mother could see the tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, nodding. “Yes ma’am. Goodnight.”

She closed the door behind her, moving as fast and as quietly as she could back to her room. The night would be spent staying awake and taking care of her sick brothers, with no help from her parents. She would still be forced to go to school the next day, being separated from them.

(Name) shuddered at the memory, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘I miss them… I miss them so much…’

She hadn’t seen her brothers in nearly four years now, and from the one letter she got from them, it seemed they didn’t want to see her. They claimed she abandoned them, and she was sure her parents had something to do with it.

After all, (Name)’s only use to them had been as a future trophy wife to a rich man. When she didn’t fulfill that goal, they sent her to college so she would at least get a medical license to “take care of her parents” in the future. They claimed she owed them, that they clothed and fed her.

But they never loved (Name). The only reason they began treating her brothers better by their tenth birthday was because they would be carrying on the family legacy, going out and making money. (Name) wasn’t allowed to have the same dreams her brothers got to, but she was happy for them nonetheless. She loved them with all her heart, more like a mother than a sister.

When she dropped out of school because she couldn’t afford to take care of herself, her parents had cut her off, and because her little brothers were minors, that meant she couldn’t see them anymore either. It broke her heart, and her mother knew it did. She was a vengeful, evil woman that likes to make (Name) suffer. It made her feel better about herself to put (Name) down.

She sighed softly, sniffling as she brought her knees to her chest. In this moment (Name) felt so alone, everyone else asleep as she sat, plagued by her past.

Before she could stop, she began to cry. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, falling into her laps as her soft cries turned into a violent, loud sob.

(Name) wanted to be taken care of too! She wanted someone to kiss her forehead, to tuck her in and tell her everything would be okay. Was it too much to ask for, to be loved and cared for as thoroughly as she did for others? (Name) never asked for much, but her sickness was making her want to scream and throw a tantrum. She wanted to comforted!

A hand on her shoulder made her stop, her sobs dying down into sniffles. She looked over her shoulder to see Kurapika sitting behind her. “(Name)? Why are you crying?”

She couldn’t help it. Her lip quivered, and she quickly turned around to bury her face in his chest. “My tummy hurts, I don’t feel g-good!”

Kurapika, who was also still sick, nodded, using his clammy palm to smooth out her hair. “I know… I know, (Name)…”

She cried and cried, covering his shirt and snot and tears before she began to tire herself out. (Name) sniffled one last time before she pulled away to wipe away her tears.

If she was being honest with herself, she was expecting to look up and see Kurapika glaring down at her with a disgusted or annoyed look.

But he wasn’t. Kurapika looked worried, his face still flushed with fever, scrunched up in concern as he gently cupped her cheek. “You tired?”

She nodded, and he patted the air mattress next to them. “Come on, let’s take a nap.”

The two climbed in, and Kurapika held her as she slept, giving her the comfort she had been so desperately craving.

When she woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of her front door opening. “Oh, sunshine…”

(Name) felt someone’s hand touch her sweaty forehand. “You’re burning up…”

She looked up weakly to see Leorio wearing gloves and a face mask, his brows knit together in concern as he crouched down next to her.

“Leorio…”

She began to cry again, the man’s eyes widening when he spotted the tears falling down her cheeks. “I tried so hard… I…”

He patted her head, sighing softly. “You did, (Name). You took care of them to your best ability, and now it’s my turn. You just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

She nodded, turning back to face Kurapika, who was holding onto her hand in his sleep, their fingers interlocked. (Name) snuggled into his chest, hearing him make some quiet noises of contentment before he wrapped his arms around her.

———————

The day was spent with the sick members of the group being taken care of by Leorio, and by the next day they were all better. (Name) was the only one with a fever, sleeping it off in her room as the others chatted downstairs.

Killua kept glancing at the stairs as Leorio cleaned up the living room. “Is she going to be okay?”

Leorio nodded, packing up the air mattress. “Yeah, she should be better by tonight. Kurapika, you’re leaving the day after tomorrow, yeah?”

“… yes.”

Kurapika was folding up the blankets they had used after washing them to get rid of any lingering germs. Killua didn’t seem to happy about this, leaning back on the couch as Gon napped next to him.

“You’re leaving? And do you actually plan on coming back?”

Kurapika was quiet for a moment. This is something he’d been thinking about for the past few days. Did he really have it in him to come back, knowing there was always the possibility he’d eventually have to leave for good?

“… I’m not sure yet.”

Killua rolled his eyes, crossing on leg over the other. “Yeah, well if you’re not coming back, don’t be a coward and tell her this time. I don’t want her wasting her energy on someone who’s so quick to abandon her.”

Kurapika’s frown deepened. He quickly walked away to put up the extra blankets in the spare closet.

Leorio didn’t move to stop either of them from arguing, simply sighing before standing up. Kurapika walked back in a few minutes later, the blankets gone from his arms. He looked calmer, giving Leorio a shy smile.

“So, you said you wanted to talk to us about something?”

Leorio stretched, giving the blonde a smile back. “Yeah. Killua, wake up Gon. We have some planning to do.”

(Name) woke up at around dinner time, feeling a lot better. She walked down the stairs, rubbing at her sleepy eyes.

“Guys? What are w-“

Killua and Gon hugged her, Killua giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Mom, are you feeling better?”

She laughed, pulling them both into arms. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better.”

They grinned, pulling back as she rubbed her eyes again. “Where are the other two?”

“They went to go get some dinner.” Gon answered, walking over to the table and picking up two pills. “Leorio told us to give you these if you woke up while he was gone. It’s your last dose!”

She nodded, taking the pills with a glass of juice. “Ahh, thank you Gon, Killua.”

She placed her empty glass in the sink, about to start doing the dishes but was stopped by Killua. “Wait, no mom. Leorio said you can’t do any cleaning. The most you should be doing tonight is walking around to stretch your legs.”

She huffed, put relented, dropping her rag in the sink and shuffling towards the couch in her bunny slippers. “Alright, alright. I hope there’s something good on Netflix to watch…”

Right before she was about to sit down, the front door opened, revealing Leorio and Kurapika, who had takeout bags in their hands. “(Name), you’re awake!”

Kurapika placed his bags on the table before jogging towards her, taking her hands and smiling. She immediately remembered the way he’d tried to slip his hand into her panties multiple times, her face heating up.

“U-Um, Kurapika… do you remember anything from when you were sick?”

He tilted his head, recognizing the flustered look on her face. “Not much, just that… you were my guardian angel the whole time.”

He blushed, squeezing her hand with a sweet smile on his face. ‘He doesn’t remember…’

“Why do you ask, (Name)? Did something happen?”

She looked away, her face growing hotter by the second. “… nope, nothing at all.”

Kurapika didn’t believe this for a second, his heart beginning to thump against his chest. “Did I do something? Did… did I say something stupid?”

“Um, anyways!”

(Name) moved past him, going to get her takeout food. Leorio, who she had told what happened whne they were alone a few hours ago, have Kurapika a look.

“I’ll tell you later.” Leorio whispered into Kurapika’s ear.

After dinner, Leorio met the blonde in his room, leaning against the wall as Kurapika fidgeted with his comforter. “So? What… what happened?”

Leorio made a face. “Are you sure you want to know, Kurapika?”

Kurapika turned pale, a nervous sweat beginning to bead at his forehead. “… is it that bad?”

“It’s pretty bad.”

Kurapika hissed through his teeth, rubbing his temple. “Okay, just rip the bandaid off. Tell me.”

Leorio moved to sit on the bed, giving him a reassuring pat to his shoulder. “Well, first of all you kept whining and making her cuddle you.”

Kurapika groaned, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “You say that as if it’s not the only embarrassing thing I did.”

“… well…”

The blonde looked at him in astonishment.

“You kind of… slipped your hand into her panties.”

“…”

“More than once.”

“Oh my god.”

Now, not only was he embarrassed, but he was rock hard. (Name) must hate him now!

“Did… did I-“

“Don’t worry, she pushed you away before you uh… touched her.”

Kurapika sighed, leaning against his bed. Leorio glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow. “She said you were really intent on making up for… her helping you in the van. Which by the way, she wouldn’t give me any details on. Did she give you a blowjob or something?”

Kurapika hit Leorio with his pillow. “Hey, that’s not any of your business. And… no. We uh… kept all of our clothes on.”

“No… don’t tell me… dry humping? You came in your pants?”

Kurapika’s face burned bright red. “Shut up!”

Leorio sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “God that’s hot. Wish it were me.”

Kurapika stared at him for a minute, before smacking him with his pillow over and over. “Fucking pervert!”

“Ouch! Ouch, hey you have no room to talk! I’m not the one that stole her-“

Kurapika held the pillow over his head, suffocating him. “Perish.”

Leorio wiggles around, smacking Kurapika’s arm. Before anything else could happen, there was a knock on the door. “Kurapika? Leorio?”

It was (Name)’s voice!

Kurapika pulled the pillow off of Leorio’s face, walking towards the door and smiling as if nothing happened. “(Name), are you feeling better?”

She groaned, waving her hand. “Yess, I’m feeling fine. I just wanted to gone and say goodnight.”

(Name) was wearing a fresh pair of pajamas, her hair still wet from her shower. Honestly she smelled amazing, and Kurapika was having trouble concentrating.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but Kurapika grabbed her wrist. “W-wait!”

He pulled her closer, looking down her with his soft, scarlet eyes. “I… wanted to thank you for taking care of me. I don’t… remember much, but I do know you made me feel…”

‘Loved, safe, taken care of-‘

“Better. You made me feel better.”

There were so many other ways she made him feel, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the more tender, intimate ways. “Pika, I promise it was no trouble, you don’t have to thank me.”

He shook his head, squeezing her hand. “No, I appreciate it. Really.”

He took a deep breath, hyping himself up before he said the next thing.

“When I was sick… when you were there for me when I hurt my head during the hunter exam… you were like my guardian angel.”

She felt her cheeks heat up when he brought her hand up to his lips, giving her knuckles a kiss. “Thank you, angel.”

“A-angel?”

He gave her a smile, one that (Name) couldn’t decide being shy or sly. “Yes, angel. Goodnight.”

Kurapika watched her walk away before closing his bedroom door and sliding against it to the floor, his heart thundering in his chest. He knew his face had to be bright red, and he could hear Leorio laughing at him faintly as the blood rushed to his ears.

“Holy shit, that was smooth. Angel, huh?”

Kurapika glared at the man, but was too flustered, trying to recover from his flirting attempt to do anything other than that.

“Why are you still in here? Go away.”

Leorio rolled his eyes, sitting up and walking towards the door. Before he left, his shoulders became tense, and he looked back at Kurapika with a neutral expression.

“Killua was right about what he said earlier, Kurapika. If you’re going to leave for good, tell (Name). Don’t lead her on then abandon her once she’s finally gotten comfortable with the thought of you sticking around.”

Leorio opened the door, looking forward again. “I don’t think she could take that.”

Kurapika felt his heart slow down, the weight of Leorio’s words sinking in. “… I understand.”

“Good. See you in the morning, Kurapika.”

Kurapika nodded, watching Leorio leave before climbing into bed.

———————

(Name) was feeling completely better by the next morning, waking up and cooking breakfast. Leorio was the first to join her in the kitchen, a soft smile on his face.

“Hey sunshine, you feelin’ better?”

She giggled, looking back at him. “God, how many times do I have to say I’m okay? You all worry too much.”

He huffed, coming up behind her to each around and place a hand on her forehead. “Hmm… no fever. Any symptoms? Vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, chest aches-“

“Leorio, don’t talk about that stuff while I’m cooking, you’ll actually make me sick.”

He chuckled, pulling his hand away and leaning against the counter near her. “Sorry, sorry. We were all pretty worried about you, ya know? Especially Killua and Kurapika. They were both crying when I carried you upstairs for your own private rest time.”

She glanced at him, trying not to laugh. “They cried, really?”

“Well, Killua was also saying things like ‘no mom don’t leave me with Kurapika, I’m sick enough already!’ while Kurapika attempted to cling to your leg.”

She let out a giggle, holding a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, what brats.”

“You’re telling me!”

They both laughed, Leorio feeling his heart race at her smiling face. He gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his eyes soft.

“You know, since you’re feeling better, I wanted to see if you were up for something fun tonight. Kurapika’s leaving for his mission tomorrow morning, and Gon is going back home to whale island that night.”

(Name) hummed, placing another pancake on the platter next to her before pouring more batter into her skillet. “What did you have planned, Leorio?”

The man scratched the back of his neck. “Haha, how did you know I have something planned?”

“I didn’t, you just told me you did now.”

Leorio blinked, his lips pursing. “Oh, you tricky woman.”

She turned off the stove, turning back to him. “So? What’s your big plans, sweetheart?”

The faintest blush appeared on his cheeks. (Name) didn’t use pet names with him often, but every time she did it made his heart race. “Well… I heard the local corn maze just opened up last weekend.”

She gasped, nearly dropping her spatula, Leorio catching it for her. “Really? Oh, I wanted to go last year but-“

“The crocodile incident, yeah I remember. I heard you can buy tickets online to cut the line, so I bought us some!”

Leorio held up his phone, showing her the digital tickets. She grinned up at him, pulling him into a hug. “Leorio, have I ever told you what a sweetheart you are?”

He laughed, patting her back and planting a kiss on the top of her head. “A few times, yes.”

She looked up at him, smiling brightly. “Oh, I’m so excited now. I’ll have to wear something cute!”

Leorio cupped her cheek, squishing it playfully. “Everything you wear is cute, but you should wear something warm. It’s going to be in the 60s tonight.”

She nodded, pulling away from him. “I should go wake up everyone before breakfast gets cold.”

He felt his smile fade when she glanced to Kurapika’s face, that same shy, flustered look in her eye should would get when around the blonde during the Hunter exam.

“Yeah, you should. I’ll make my plate.”

He watched her go, his gaze turning towards the pancakes.

‘… if he doesn’t treat her right…’

His eyes glanced up, following her figure as she walked towards Kurapika’s room.

‘I’ll be taking her for myself.’

——————

(Name) looked over herself later that night, turning a few times as she tried to decide if the outfit she had on would be what she was wearing that night.

It was a long , wine red, velvet dress, with a black lace trim and a sweetheart neckline. The sleeves were short, so she paired it with a black cardigan that had a white ghost pattern. “Hehe, I look like a modern vampire.”

She spinned, giggling. “It’s perfect!”

‘And it’s Kurapika’s favorite color…’

Her face became hot when she thought this, quickly shaking her head and moving on. ‘N-not like that matters, he’s my friend. I don’t have to impress him.

But the thought of him finding her dress pretty did make a certain spot between her legs wet. Ever since the car incident, she’d been having frequent naughty thoughts about him, and was having trouble thinking of anything else when he was around.

And with him trying to slip his hand into her panties recently, these naughty thoughts were driving her crazy!

‘Ahh, I can’t think of this now, I have to get ready!’

She paired her outfit with a pair of frilly ankle socks and black Mary Janes. With one last look, she began her walk downstairs to join her friends.

Everyone was already ready, waiting for her in the living room. When Kurapika heard her footsteps, he lazily glanced up from the book he’d been reading, only for his jaw to drop.

“(Name), wow… you…”

She smiled, her cheeks warm as he looked at her. Leorio looked up at well, giving her a wink. “Hey, good looking. You ready?”

She giggled, pulling on her backpack. “Yep! Let’s get going!”

Everyone stood, Kurapika’s eyes glued to her. He had to admit, she looked damn good in red. It was hard to look away, especially when the sweetheart neckline exposed a good portion of her cleavage.

“You’re staring, blondie.” Killua said, pinching Kurapika’s arm.

Kurapika helped, finally looking away to glare at the white haired boy. “I did you a favor, you don’t want her finding out you’re a creep, do you?”

He scowled. “I’m not a creep.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say, blondie.”

Before the two could start up a fight, Leorio smacked them both over the head. “Hey, I didn’t do anything!” Kurapika complained, rubbing his temple.

“Yeah, but you were about to. Get in the car, (Name) and Gon are waiting.”

The two grumbled, but climbed into the mom van without another word.

——————

The corn maze took place further out in the country, on a small farm where a fair was held. There were little games, a food truck selling various fair foods, and of course the corn maze.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask this, but what is a corn maze?”

The groups swiveled their heads to look at Kurapika, who blinked. “What?”

Killua grabbed (Name)’s arm, laughing. “Wait, don’t tell him. It’ll make this even funnier.”

(Name) rolled her eyes. “Killua, that’s mean. A corn maze is a maze you walk through with friends, sometimes full of scare actors that jump out and… well, scare you.”

Kurapika scowled, his blonde brows knitting together in concern. “When it’s fight or flight, I usually choose flight.”

Leorio and (Name) glanced at each other nervously. “Well shit, Kurapika. You sure you want to do this, then? Hitting the workers will get us kicked out.”

Kurapika scoffed, waving his hand dismissively at Leorio. “Oh please, I can handle some teenagers in dollar store masks.”

Gon smiled, patting his friend’s shoulder. “If you get scared, you can hold my hand, Kurapika!”

The blonde couldn’t be mad at Gon, so he only sighed with a small smile. “Thanks, Gon.”

(Name) grabbed Kurapika’s hand, giving him a shy. “I um… can hold your hand too.”

The blonde blushed, quickly turning his head away. “O-oh, that would be appreciated.”

They walked towards the corn maze hand in hand. Leorio showed the woman up front their tickets, and they were able to walk in without waiting in the long line.

“Okay everyone, let’s stick together a-“

Gon and Killua were already running off, hand in hand and laughing. They were too cute, so (Name) could only sigh. “Well, they’re a lost cause. We should try to stick together, though.”

Leorio nodded, taking the lead. “Don’t worry ladies, I’ll protect you.”

(Name) giggled, but Kurapika only narrowed his eyes at the taller man.

They began their walk, the sound of people screaming and soft, horror themed music playing as fog clung to their heels. It was mostly peaceful at first, (Name) and Kurapika sharing flustered looks as they walked with their fingers interlocked.

That was until someone jumped out at (Name), brandishing a fake knife. “AH!”

She screamed, hiding her face in Kurapika’s chest. The blonde tried not to show he’d been scared as well, coughing to hide his fear. “It’s okay, (Name), I’ve got you.”

The man, who seemed to take joy in (Name)’s fear, continued to approach the two. “You scared, little girls? I eat pretty things like you two for brea-“

Leorio raised an eyebrow, staring down at the actor as he slowly looked up. Now, Leorio was intimidating to most with his height alone, but in the dark with his glasses glinting in the faint light, he looked terrifying.

“Back off.”

The man held up his hands and backed away into the darkness, the two sighing in relief. They both hugged Leorio, the tall man blinking in surprise when even Kurapika seemed grateful.

“Leorio, thank you for being so tall and muscular and handsome… and for saving us.”

Kurapika blinked, pulling away from Leorio and glancing at (Name). “Were the first few things necessary?”

Leorio laughed, his face growing red, the man glad his blush could be hidden in the darkness. “Y-yeah sunshine, you didn’t need to say all that.”

She pouted, holding him tighter. “But I meant it! If you weren’t so damn handsome that guy wouldn’t have run away! He must of been intimated by your good looks!”

Neither of them had the heart to tell her the man had run away due to being a behemoth of a man. She didn’t see him as scary, and that was okay. “Yeah yeah, let’s keep moving.”

Now the two stuck close to Leorio, like ducklings following their mother into traffic.

They were scared a few more times, running into dead ends and laughing at the bad decorations before they reached the midway point. “I think we’re getting closer to the end, guys!”

(Name) giggled, spinning around happily, not even noticing that someone snuck up behind her until she bumped into their bare chest.

“Oh? Picking a fight with me, little girl?”

Her wrist was grabbed, the man holding her arm behind her back and laughing maniacally. “H-hey!”

Kurapika and Leorio suddenly became very serious, the latter stepping forward. “Hey, you’re not supposed to touch her.”

The actor rolled his eyes, letting (Name) go and pushing her slightly so she fell onto the ground. “Oh don’t ruin the fun, you bunch of babies.”

She hissed out in pain, revealing a big scrape on her knee. Leorio gasped, kneeling down beside her. “Hey you douchebag, she j- Kurapika?”

The blonde had gone wide eyed, his eyes scarlet behind his gray contacts. “You…”

Kurapika hadn’t even processed (Name)’s pain, his eyes focused on the man’s chest.

There, on his left breast, was a small spider tattoo, with the number 15 on it. When Leorio noticed, his jaw dropped, his arms wrapping around (Name) in an attempt to shield her. “Is he..?”

Kurapika didn’t speak, stepping forward and grabbing the man by his arm, pinning him to the ground and wrenching his arm behind his back.

The actor screamed in pain, trying to wiggle out of Kurapika’s grasp. “Hey, what the hell are you-“

“Do you have any idea what that tattoo means, you scum?”

The man went quiet, shivering. “W-what? It’s a fake tattoo!”

Kurapika sneered, gripping his arm tighter. “I’m well aware. The Phantom Troupe only has 12 members.”

The man began to cry, struggling. “I don’t know what that is, I just saw this fake tattoo in the store and-“

Kurapika growled. “Ignorance won’t save you. That is the mark of a member of the Phantom Troupe, a band of murderous thieves that killed my entire-“

(Name) covered Kurapika’s mouth from behind, whispering into his ear. “Kurapika, shh. You have no idea who could be listening. You’re laying low, remember?”

Kurapika took a moment to calm down before nodding. He let go of the man’s arm, standing up and brushing off his tabard. “Go wash that off, before I rip it off of your skin.”

The actor scurried away, not bothering to pick up his mask that fell. Kurapika’s eyes followed him, only leaning his form when he disappeared from sight. “Kurapika…”

(Name) held onto his hand, squeezing lightly. The blonde didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away from her. It was definitely an improvement.

“… let’s keep going. I’m ready to go home.” Kurapika said, pulling (Name) forward by the hand. Leorio gave them a worried look.

Actors seemed to avoid them now, Kurapika’s aura enough to scare them off. Some even pointed shaky fingers towards the correct path, the blonde not sparing them a second glance.

“Wow, Kurapika. I think you might be the scariest thing in this maze.” (Name) said, trying to lighten the mood.

His lip twitched up in a smile, the blonde giving her hand a light squeeze. “I’m only scary when I need to be, angel.”

She felt her face warm up at the pet name. ‘He’s still calling me angel… I thought it was just a little joke.’

Leorio trailed behind them, making sure neither of them tripped and that they got to have their time together.

As they neared the end of the maze, Kurapika’s mood steadily improved. He even laughed when (Name) jumped into his arms after someone spooked her.

“Careful, you stepped on my foot.” he teased, bumping into some of the corn.

Unfortunately, this small bump would be the end of their happy moment.

He felt something fall on his head, the blonde blinking and reaching his hand up to pick up the object.

(Name) knew when the hand she held in hers gripped into hers so tightly she could feel his nails dog into her skin, that something bad had happened.

Everything happened so quickly. Kurapika revealed the object that fell on him, a palm sized plastic spider. The two others blinked, the memory of Kurapika telling them how much he hated spiders popping up in their mind.

Next came the screaming. Kurapika threw the spider as hard as he could, the poor googly eyed thing breaking on the ground. (Name) nearly toppled over when Kurapika launched himself into her, the woman ending up with him in her arms bridal style.

He couldn’t speak. The incident earlier already had his nerves shot, so the spider falling on his was his breaking point. Tears streamed down his cheeks, panic in his scarlet eyes. (Name) let him bury his face in her neck, glancing at Leorio helplessly.

The tall man nodded, leading them both out of the maze, his glare enough to keep anyone else from bothering them. (Name) hurried to the mom van to get Kurapika to a quiet, safe place.

She attempted to set him down, but he wouldn’t unhand her. He clung to her separately, his chest heaving as a panic attack wracked his body.

“Shh, I’m right here Pika.”

She climbed into the backseat with him in his arms, allowing him to cry into her chest as she tried her best to soothe him. She gave him a few minutes before she cupped his cheek. “Come on, let’s breathe together okay?”

She employed the same tactic she used when they were staying at the Zoldyck estate, having him follow her lead until he finally calmed down.

The blonde leaned his forehead against hers, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “(Name)… thank you… th-thank you…”

He smiled, his eyes a little puffy and red from crying. She wiped away his tears, moving her hands to grasp his own. “It’s no problem, really. I-“

They both screamed when a mannequin head pressed against the car window, banging against the glass as someone screamed. This sent Kurapika back into a panic attack, his eyes wide in terror as he began to cry again.

Someone laughing outside could be heard, and (Name) felt her heart sink when she recognized it.

“Killua Zoldyck!? What the fuck??”

The laughter stopped suddenly, the mannequin head falling to the ground as Killua’s face popped up. He looked confused and… scared.

When he spotted Kurapika’s tears and (Name)’s angered face, he realized that he fucked.

“Killua, that was beyond too far! Can’t you see he’s fucking terrified!? Why would you do that?”

Tears ran down her own cheeks, and the look of disappointment and disbelief in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Killua. “W-wait mom, I didn’t-“

She held up her hand, shaking her head. “Go find Leorio, I’ll deal with you later.”

He felt tears well up in his own eyes, terror slowly sinking into his chest. Killua didn’t say another word, leaving.

“Shh, shh, it was just Killua. He’s gone now…”

(Name) felt conflicted. She hadn’t meant to yell at Killua, but he’d just done something incredibly cruel. Even if he and Kurapika had some kind of feud going on, it was beyond fucked up to scare him during a panic attack.

Calming him down the second time was much harder, and even after he stopped crying, he clung to her desperately, his hands shaking.

Killua walked back to the fair grounds, his eyes full of tears and his body trembling. (Name) had never yelled like that at him before, never LOOKED at him like that before. ‘She’s gonna… she’s gonna give up on me.’

Leorio and Gon spotted Killua, the two running up to him. “Hey bud, we’ve been looking f… Killua?”

Killua looked up at Leorio, his lip trembling. “Mom… mom is mad at me. I… I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

Leorio, one of the only people besides (Name) and Gon to see him cry sighed and pulled him into a hug, Gon joining. “Hey, bud, it’s alright. Can you tell me what happened?”

Killua explained, stuttering and stumbling over his words. Leorio sighed, patting his back. “And you didn’t know he was upset?”

“N-No! I just saw that they were in the van and wanted to scare them!”

Gon leaned his head against Killua’s shoulder. “I understand why (Name) was angry, but I’m sure if we explain things to her, she’ll understand.”

Killua have a shaky nod, his hand gripping Leorio’s sweater. The tall man pat his head. “Alright boys, let’s go clear things up.”

———————

(Name finally got Kurapika to relax, the blonde now sleeping with his head resting on her shoulder. She only glanced up briefly when Leorio opened the door on her side. “(Name), how is he doing?”

She smiled tiredly, giving a thumbs up. He fell asleep, so I’d say pretty good.”

Leorio nodded, glancing off to the right. “About Killua…”

(Name) pursed her lips. “Did he come to apologize?”

Leorio sighed, pulling Killua into view. “(Name), listen to what he has to say before you say anything else.”

(Name) furrowed her brows, but sighed. “Okay, go on.”

Killua couldn’t meet her eyes, and the sight of tears running down his cheeks made her eyes soften. “M-mom I… I didn’t know what happens to Kurapika. I just wanted to scare you two, I promise I wouldn’t have if I knew how upset he was!”

She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “Okay, okay I believe you kiddo. Sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

Her words didn’t seem to calm him down though, the boy only stiffly nodding before moving to sit in the front seat. Gon glanced at him with a worried look before sliding in next to (Name).

“Uh, I’ll drive since… you’ve got him.”

(Name) nodded, turning her ficus back in Kurapika. He was sleeping soundly, clutching her shirt as they rode home.

Kurapika wouldn’t leave (Name)’s side even when they arrived back at her house, meaning they had to sleep in the same bed together. She ended up crashing with him in his room, thinking it would be more comfortable and familiar for him.

Through the night, Kurapika would wake up with night terrors, screaming and thrashing before being settled back into sleep by gentle cooing and touches.

In the morning, (Name) had to wake him up so she could drive him to his bus stop, the blonde feeling exhausted, but no longer scared.

He honestly felt embarrassed over his behavior, having to be reassured multiple times that nothing he did would make her think any less of him. “It’s okay, Kurapika. Everyone has their moments, even me.”

The two got ready, Kurapika hesitantly letting her leave to get dressed in her room. Once they were ready, the two left for the bus stop.

Kurapika rode shotgun, glancing at her nervously with his cheeks pink as they approached their destination.

They got out, (Name) helping him with his duffel bag before smiling. “Kurapika, I really enjoyed having you with us. These past two months have been some of the happiest I’ve had in a long time.”

Her soft, sad smile made his heart ache. In that moment, he knew that she assumed he’d be leaving her for good. It hurt, but he didn’t blame her for thinking that way. Hell, he thought that was how this story would end too.

But instead, Kurapika dropped his duffel bag on the ground, stepping forward and cupping her cheeks, his face burning red as he placed his lips on hers, hoping to convey his intense feelings through the kiss.

(Name)’s eyes went so wide she felt like they might bulge out of her skull. This wasn’t acting for a mission, Kurapika didn’t need help getting off so he wouldn’t embarrassed, he was kissing her.

And she couldn’t understand why.

He pulled away, his thumb brushing against her lip as he stared at her with those pretty brown eyes. “(Name)… I promise I’ll be back. Please… please believe me.”

There was no love confession, no passionate embrace, just a promise that he would return.

And that was more than enough for (Name). She nodded, leaning into his touch, sighing softly. “Okay, I believe you, my Pika.”

Kurapika’s breath hitched in his throat, the blonde considering going in for another kiss before his bus pulled up. He cursed it under his breath, picking up his duffle bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you in a month, (Name).”

She nodded, giving him a brave smile. “I’ll really miss you.”

With that, he boarded his bus, biting his lip as she faded from view. ‘I… I’ll ask her out on a date when I get back. I will.”

Kurapika sat down, a giddy smile on his face as he touched his fingers to his lips. ‘God I love her.’

——————

Even that night after Gon had left for whale island and Leorio went home, (Name) was still on another planet, her face hot and eyes distant. She kept replaying the moment in her head over and over, feeling her heart thump against her ribs harder and harder.

‘He kissed me, he really kissed me…’

She didn’t even notice Killua coming up behind her, his arm trembling as he reached a hand up to tap her shoulder. “Mom?

(Name) jumped, letting out a yelp before holding a hand over her heart. “Holy- oh Killua you scared me!”

He flinched at her slightly raised voice, the woman immediately taking notice. “Killua? Baby is something wrong?”

The young boy looked up at her, the beginnings of tears beading in the corners of his eyes. “Do you… do you ever regret taking me in?”

(Name) felt her heart sink, her hands immediately going to his cheeks to cup them, wiping away his tears. “Oh my… Killua, no, no never. You’re the best thing to come out of everything. Having you here makes everything better. Why would you anything else, sweetheart?”

He shook his head, clinging his fists. “It’s just… I know there’s a lot going on and I don’t always behave-“

“Killua.”

She pulled him into a hug, sinking down onto the floor with him when his knees buckled. He began to sob into her shoulder, holding onto him tightly. “Listen baby, I will never give up on you. This is your home just as much as it is mine. No matter who you choose to be, this will always be somewhere you can come back to, and I will always be here to support and love you every step of the way.”

He clutched her shirt, crying harder. “B-but I’ve killed and hurt people, I’ve gotten you in trouble so many times!”

“Humans are constantly evolving, Killua. To stagnate is a fate worse than death.”

She soothed him, running her fingers through his hair as he sobbed. “But… but you said you were going to ‘deal with me later’.”

She blinked, looking at him. “Yeah, as in ground or talk to you. What did you think I meant- oh.”

(Name) remembered that punishment in the Zoldyck household usually involves torture and emotional neglect. She cursed herself for not thinking, kissing his forehead.

“It’s okay to act like a kid. Most kids get into trouble, I knew that when I decided to take you in. I’m not going to hurt or shun you for doing something any other kid would do. You’re safe here, Killua. My love isn’t conditional.”

He sniffled, looking up at her. “Really? You aren’t… you aren’t going to abandon me?”

She nodded, wiping away his tears. “Never. I would rather die than leave you alone.”

It took a few minutes for him to calm down, and when he did, (Name) picked him up and carried him to the couch. “I’ll order us some takeout and we can watch whatever you want, okay?”

He nodded, curling up under the quilt (Name) made for him years ago.

The two spent the night together, (Name) making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. They ended up passing out on the couch after binging Housewives of York New, popcorn strewn across the floor.

155 notes · View notes

midnight-talescape · 11 months

Text

𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓇 (𝒮𝓊𝓀𝓊𝓃𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 23: Face Abdomensitting

I had so much random idea i couldn’t put in, but also Sukuna abs mouth things is a straight up menace and you cant tell me otherwise.

The plots a little weird because i took it from a different non sex related prompt i will never write lol

Warning: violent sex, non con, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2369

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Sukuna groaned as he opened his eyes, before letting out a noise of confusion.

He’s sitting under a maple tree and the setting sun is shining into his eyes.

Growling he squinted his eyes from the sun.

Where the fuck am I?

His confusion deepened when he noticed he was missing a set of arms and his hair was longer, draping behind him in a pink river.

How long has it been since he looked like this?

“Sukuna!”

Sukuna blinked slowly, his confusion forgotten when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

Someone was barreling toward him, he couldn't tell who they were. But his body seems to remember, almost instinctively he held out his arms and caught them in his arms.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! I missed you!” Your cheerful voice reached his ears and he tightened his arms around you,

“(Y/N)?” Sukuna's voice was laced with confusion,

You shouldn't be here, you’re…. What happened to you? Why couldn't he remember?

“Sukuna, are you alright?” You asked waving your hand in front of him,

“…yes,” Sukuna answered ignoring his confusion, you were here and that’s all that mattered,

He watched as you chattered around him, he was confused and dazed but for the first time in a long time, he felt content.

But why? What couldn't he remember?

“…Sukuna you’re leaving tomorrow right?” He broke out of his daze when you asked him a question,

Right, he had to leave tomorrow.

For what?

Before he could delve into that the scene in front of him changed, your face distorted in front of him.

He reached out his hand to grab you, but his hand passed right through you.

When his eyes cleared again, he was surrounded by people all chattering about something.

Something about a sacrifice.

Sukuna's eyes widen as his brain finally clears.

You died. You died a thousand years ago. Before he became what he is now.

Growling his eyes blaze red and his second pair of arms burst out of his body. Within seconds he violently ripped through the people around him.

His body was covered in blood, he looked in the direction he knew you would be in, before starting to run there.

Heart pounding he reached the cave he remembered you were sacrificed in.

It was covered in your blood.

Just like he remembered so vividly all those years ago.

The day he lost the one thing that binds him to humanity.

He was too late.

Just like he was too late all those years ago.

With an angry roar, he ripped through the people who crowded the cave, ripping their hearts out with his bare hand and leaving behind a trail of carnage as he made his way to you.

Eyes red and panting heavily he reached your cold lifeless body. He let out a guttural scream, like a beast who lost the one thing he held dear.

He was feeling the despair and pain from all those years ago all over again.

The pain and despair he thought he had forgotten in his years of imprisonment.

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With a loud growl, Sukuna opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he took in his surroundings.

He’s still sitting on his throne of skull.

There's no tree, no sun, nothing but blood and skulls.

And there's no (Y/N)…

He was alone.

“Sukuna, what happened? I heard you screaming?”

Came Yuji’s voice, from above his head.

Okay maybe not fully alone…

Just my luck the annoying brat heard me…

His eyes flared red, irritated at his presence.

“Nothing that concerns you, brat,” he said coldly, “What do you want?”

Let him say something wrong, one small mistake… Then I have an excuse to take out my frustrations.

Sukuna thought to himself, his crimson eyes burning.

Yuji paused for a moment before deciding it was better not to press.

Sukuna closed his eyes and scoffed, before zoning out on whatever he was saying.

“…we have a new teacher today and they’re super pretty!”

"Oh really?" Despite the mix of emotions, Sukuna felt, his interest was piqued "Please elaborate,"

Yuji excitedly begins to describe you to Sukuna, clearly excited over the prospect of a new teacher..

“…their name is (Y/N), look there they are!”

Sukuna’s head snapped up to look at you. His heart skipped a beat the second he laid his eyes on you.

“What did you say their name was again?” Sukuna's voice was hoarse as he asked this, but he knew it was you the second he saw you again,

“…their name is (Y/N)? Why d-“

Sukuna didn't bother hearing the rest of the sentence, immediately pulling your consciousness into his domain.

As you fell into his domain from the sky (?) he caught you in his arms, before clutching your tiny frame against his body as if trying to meld you into his body.

Your body, your scent, and your very presence were triggering something deep within him. Something primal.

His body filled with hunger, aching to devour you. It was the hunger of a beast who craved something that was once his.

Something that belonged solely to him.

Something primal, animalistic, and possessive.

You opened your eyes, confused about where you were and what happened.

You looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you with a dark look in his eyes, as he gave you an eerie smile.

He looked almost feral, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

Sukuna wanted you, he had to have you. He needed you like he needed his next breath to live.

He was a starved animal, eager to devour you alive.

“S-sukuna?” You said quietly, confused but not scared.

Something inside you finds familiarity in him like your soul remembers him even though your mind doesn’t.

The way his name seemed to spill from your mouth was like music to his ears, his entire being pulsated with pure lust for you.

Mine.

The word reverberated in his thoughts as he looked deep into your eyes, his eyes narrowed to slits. He pressed you closer to his chest, your figure felt warm and small in his arms as he let out a deep growl in your ear.

"Did you miss me, little one?"

“Do I know you from before?” You ask quietly,

He let out a deep chuckle as he stroked your face,

"You may not remember, but you still belong to me. Even after death."

He pressed his forehead to yours, his red eyes burning. He had to have you. Right now.

"I'm here to take back what's mine."

Your eyes widened as you felt his fang dig into your neck ferociously as if he wanted to rip out a piece of your flesh.

Sukuna let out a satisfied growl as he drank your blood,

You gasped and tried to push him away from you, but Sukuna wouldn’t let you go. Gripping you tightly with all of his arms, forcing you to stay still as he practically drains you.

As you are about to pass out Sukuna lets go of your neck and rips off your clothing.

“?!” You looked at him unsure of how things got to this point.

Looking at your eyes and seeing the confusion in them, Sukuna scoffed.

You were always like this, even a thousand years ago.

Your eyes hold nothing, your eyes don't reflect him or anything else.

A liar who looked at him with adoration and love, while promising him forever. Who convinced him you love him before leaving him behind.

“Never again…” Sukuna looked at you, his hands exploring your body, “…if your eyes can't look at me with love then tears will work just fine…”

Tilting your head up Sukuna smashed his lip against yours. Biting down on your lower lip and as you gasped in pain, he slipped his tongue inside your mouth.

As you struggled into the kiss Sukuna’s hands explored your body. You groaned into the kiss as every single part of your body was explored by Sukuna’s hand.

Your eyes filled with tears, and your mouth was filled by Sukuna’s large tongue making it hard for you to breathe as his hand gripped your breast. A second pair of arms spread your leg apart and ignoring your cry shoved 3 of his fingers inside you.

Your back arched as you screamed into the kiss. Sukuna pulled away from you before licking away your tears and latching onto your neck again.

Uncaring for your discomfort he stretched you open roughly, his eyes not filled with love, but a deep-seated anger and hatred.

“You promised me you won't ever leave me alone, (Y/N)…” Sukuna whispered in your ears as he leaned down and bit down on your breast, “…you lied.”

“I-I don’t remember!” You cried out your body trembling in pain,

Pulling his fingers out of your wet fold, Sukuna growled his voice laced with hatred,

“Then I will make you remember…”

Laying down and pulling you onto his stomach making you straddle him, you sobbed as he pulled your legs apart with two of his hands.

Your body froze and you let out a silent scream as you felt the mouth on his abdomen open up and he forced his tongue inside you.

“S-stop…t-this is weird… haaaa…stop!” You cried out your body shaking,

You can feel your body being forced open by his tongue, everything felt so weird. You can hear the lewd noise coming from your body as he twists his tongue inside you.

Sukuna laughed maniacally as he watched your sobbing face, your body shaking as he forced you to orgasm over and over again. Two of his arms gripped your waist tightly as he held you down. One of them pushed down on the bulge on your stomach as his tongue thrust inside you.

Grabbing your neck he pushed you down toward him and pulled you into a vicious kiss. You groaned as you felt both your mouth and cunt violated by his tongues, his free hand roaming across your body.

Sukuna felt a surge of sick pleasure as your orgasm wracked your body, your sobs only fueling his hunger.

He couldn't get enough of you, he wanted every part of your body, every expression on your face. Every cry, every whimper brought him satisfaction like no other.

Your body shuddered, his tongue still thrusting inside you, your mind on the verge of breaking as you heard him whisper,

"I won't ever let you leave me again…"

Pulling his tongue out of you with a pop, he uses his hand to hook your legs onto his shoulder and aims your abused cunt at his erection.

You felt the erection at the entrance of your fold, and from what you can see, you can tell it wasn't going to fit inside you. You were terrified and your body was rigid with fear.

But your soul tells you this is how it's supposed to be. You were supposed to be with him, and he’s a missing part of you.

Why?

You don't know, you couldn’t remember anything. All you know was you’re about to be fuck stupid and your soul is telling you, you guys belong together.

Before you could figure out exactly what's happening and why your mind is like this, Sukuna slammed his cock into your tight body.

Your back arched and you clawed at his arms as he pounded into you. Your mouth opened and you let out screams and moan as he fucked into you roughly.

Sukuna had never been a man to hold back—he would take what he wanted, when he wanted, regardless of how it affected you. Your screams didn’t bother him; instead, they seemed to fuel his desire to thrust harder and faster deep within you.

Your tight body held him, keeping him inside, barely containing his insatiable hunger.

“——!”

Your eyes widened in pain and tears streamed down your face. Your mouth opened in a silent gasp as he held you down, his four arms wrapping around you tightly as if to trap you.

“You are mine, (Y/N). Even after death, you are still mine!”

Sukuna laughed darkly, his mind filled with a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction.

He couldn't resist thrusting into you deeper, his cock twisting inside of you. Your body responded with shudders of pleasure, despite the pain.

He watched as your tears streamed down your face, never acknowledging your pain in the slightest.

His breathing quickened, and his heart raced as he felt you tighten around him.

You were completely his now, powerless under his control.

As his fat cock broke into your womb and your body clenched down on his cock tightly, your juice sprayed across where you guys are connected.

“This pain is only a fraction of what you will be feeling for leaving me, little one…”

You let out a wail as you felt Sukuna cum filled your womb. Your stomach bloating from the large amount of cum he was fucking into your body.

Sukuna grinned as he looked down at your belly filled with his cum, before thrusting into you again.

He was far from done…

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

“Tch, are you full already, little one?” Sukuna scoffed as he looked down at your trembling body,

You couldn't answer, your mind dazed, and your body covered in bruises, cum, and a bite mark.

Sukuna chuckled before pulling his cock out of your swollen cunt, you let out a groan as the mixture of cum and fluid rushed out of you.

Sukuna splayed a hand over your bulging stomach and without warning pressed down. Your eyes widened and your body convulsed violently as he forced his cum out of you.

Your mind was broken and your body was abused. You felt like your internal organ was rearranged and it's not figuratively.

But it's okay, no matter how broken you are Sukuna can always heal you with his reverse curse technique until he’s satisfied that he has marked you completely body and soul.

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

He will devour you.

Consume your flesh and your bone.

Until you are fused into his body and can no longer leave him behind.

Just like he did all those years ago…

#no i don’t have problems #reader insert #reader smut #x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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rambleonwaywardson · 1 month

Text

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 15

Masterpost Read on AO3

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: We may have been shorter last week, but we are longer this week. Good news is, the boys are heading home! Heads up, I am looking at probably two more chapters after this one(?) Who knows, but that's my current idea.

---

Is it possible to be nowhere and everywhere at the same time?

You’re driving on the flat open road of the west, not a single car in sight, nothing but nowhere spread across the Earth on all sides. Or you’re on a boat in the middle of the ocean, calm waves rocking you up and down, knowing that the world is at your fingertips even though you can’t see a single thing other than the water meeting the sky. You’re in a plane, soaring through the clouds, no worries, no pain, almost everyone who ever lived below you and endless possibilities ahead. Or you’re in a space capsule above the Earth, and you look into the star-spotted blackness out your window and you know. It looks like nothing, but in reality, there’s nothing but everything. An infinity that rests just beyond your reach.

There’s something about being adrift in the great wide open that makes you throw your arms out to the wind, yell into the universe to let them know you’re there, you’re not afraid. Way out in the middle of nowhere, the great wide everywhere that you can’t see but you can feel in your heart.

John has spent his whole life chasing that feeling, grin on his face, cheeks reddened by the wind. His feet could never settle on the ground, always trying to reach the sky above, the moon, the stars, the infinity that dared him to hold on for the ride. Wild child, they called him. He wanted to find the top of the world, see it all stretched out before him.

The king of nowhere and everywhere all at once.

—

November 23 Somewhere between Earth and the Moon Or… somewhere between nowhere and everywhere

“Hey astrofag, welcome back.”

Bucky’s eyes open slowly, as if his eyelids don’t remember what their job is. Everything is blurry and unfocused, watercolor grays and whites. His body doesn’t feel right, adrift in a sea of nothing. Everything feels wrong wrong wrong, and his head feels tight and heavy, his eyes irritated, his face stuffy and sore.

Everything hurts. He blinks, and his vision assembles into something semi-coherent, shapes and lines that don’t make sense but at least are staying still for once. Someone is standing over him, a grin across their face.

Not standing. Floating.

Alex. Alex wasn’t here before. Bucky hasn’t seen Alex in…

When? When did he last see Alex?

Bucky’s eyes dart around the small crew cabin, but it sends a sharp pain through his head like needles poking at his brain, carving into his skull. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Getting faster, too fast. Nausea is rolling through him. Panic.

“Hey, take it easy.” Rosie’s voice.

Bucky can’t breathe. Or is he breathing too fast? His lungs burn.

He gags on the air that tastes like metal in his mouth, feeling that sour acid creeping up his throat as his stomach tries to flip inside out. He tries to turn over, but he’s stuck. Something is holding him in place, and he doesn’t understand how that can be possible when it feels like all the pieces of his body have been disassembled. Weakly, he tries to break away from the restraint. Need out need out need out.

But he can’t. He doesn’t understand how to move his body when his body is nothing. He is nothing.

He wonders, if he believes hard enough that none of this is real, will he wake up whole again?

He might scream in pain when he tries to move his leg, but that might only be in his head. It’s hard to tell, when he woke up with a head-splitting ringing in his ears.

“Get him up, get him up,” Rosie is saying. The panic in his voice sticks in Bucky’s mind. Two of a kind.

Alex leans over Bucky, working to free him. He and Rosie pull him upright just before he spits the bile out of his mouth. It floats in front of his face, making him feel sick again as he stares at it, wondering why it’s doing that. He doesn’t know where he is. Or why. Or how.

He wants to go home now.

“Curt?” He whimpers.

“He’s sleeping, bud.”

Bucky doesn’t like that. Curt has been the only constant in this painful, pieced together existence he’s been living. He blinks, and everything goes all blurry again.

The last thing he hears before he passes out is someone saying Gale’s name.

—

“Gale isn’t here,” Rosie tells him.

He was. I heard you talking to him.

“You wanna talk to Helen about something?”

Bucky shakes his head. That movement alone sends everything spinning around him. His nose is all stopped up and his throat feels tight and sore. His stomach feels like it’s twisted all in knots. Rosie keeps trying to give him water, but he’s having a hard time swallowing, more often than not choking or spitting it back out, and he feels tears leaking onto his hot cheeks. He groans and curls in on himself, hoping that maybe if he closes his eyes, all of this will just go away.

“Hold on,” Rosie says, his voice muffled as he leaves Bucky’s side.

He mourns the loss of company, and he pulls his shaking left hand up to his mouth, pressing his wedding ring to his lips for comfort. Everything feels funny. There’s too much pressure in his head, and he doesn’t know why.

His limbs won’t listen to his brain, and he feels like he’s floating in the worst way. And he doesn’t know why.

Everything hurts so bad. And he doesn’t know why.

He feels like he’s gonna throw up. And he doesn’t know why.

Gale isn’t here. And he doesn’t fucking know why.

His whole body feels like it’s buzzing, like an electric current gone haywire. One wrong move and he might go up in flames. His heart is beating too fast and it won’t slow down. He can’t breathe. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Rosie’s voice is back. A warm hand rests on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re fine. I’m right here.”

He really wishes it was Gale, but he just doesn’t want to be alone. He’s scared that if he falls asleep alone, he might not wake up. Somewhere deep in a memory he can’t trust anymore, something tells him that someone out there doesn’t want him to wake up. Would that be better?

Something soft is touching his hand, rubbing across his knuckles. Rosie gently pulls Bucky’s fingers away from his mouth, helping him stretch them open and close them again around the object.

“Open your eyes, John. Take a look.”

Bucky does as he’s told, even though it makes him feel sick, and he lifts his head as much as he can to look down at his chest. There’s a small stuffed bear with soft brown fur gripped in his fingers, pressed against his heart. It’s wearing a NASA shirt and a name tag that says “Beary Egan” in a messy scrawl that Bucky would know anywhere. His heart jumps.

“Gale,” he whispers.

Rosie strokes his hair back soothingly, and Bucky falls asleep without feeling panic in his chest for the first time since he woke up on the moon.

—

“Gale isn’t here.” Curt strokes a strand of hair away from Bucky’s face.

Bring him back, Bucky thinks desperately. Tell him I need him.

He picks at the needle in his arm, but Curt swats his hand away. Get it out of me. He doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t want it there anymore. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go home.

“Quit that,” Curt says, grasping Bucky’s fingers in his own to keep them still. Bucky struggles, but eventually goes lax when it takes too much energy that he doesn’t have. “It’s already all red, John. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Buck,” Bucky whispers insistently.

He searches Curt’s face, and all he sees is sadness as the other man sighs deeply and squeezes his fingers. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” he says, letting go of Bucky’s hand.

Bucky hugs Beary Egan tight to his chest and imagines Gale’s arms wrapped around him. He imagines the heat of his body protecting Bucky from the world, the strong set of his shoulders ready to take on anything that threatens to hurt him. He imagines his smile and his laugh and the fierceness and love in his eyes. He imagines his voice in his ear, the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips kissing the top of his head.

If Gale were here, he’d make all of Bucky’s pain go away. If Gale were here, Bucky wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all.

—

“... Vertigo… TBI… bad combination.”

“What do we do?”

“... keep him comfortable… hope…”

“...ain’t happening.”

Bucky’s head hurts too much to even open his eyes. When he tries, pain rings in his ears like a physical thing hunting him down in this never-ending nightmare. He has nowhere to turn, no way to escape it. It’s already got him in its teeth.

Voices drift in and out, but he doesn’t know who they are or where they’re coming from.

“Gale,” he tries to whisper, but his lips are dry and his throat is dry and his brain won’t form the word – the only word he knows. Gale. No one can hear him. Beary Egan has drifted away, somewhere he can’t reach, leaving him all alone in the darkness of this place he doesn’t know. He tries to reach his hand out, tries to open his eyes to look, but it all makes him feel sick.

Come back. Please.

Bucky turns his head to the side and coughs out the burning acid forcefully ejecting itself from his body. Somewhere, distantly, he’s aware of someone wiping his face. “Here,” they say. “We don’t wanna lose this guy do we?”

His fingers are being pried open, and he closes them around something soft. Something safe. He pulls the bear back to his chest, and he sniffs against the stuffiness clouding his head. He imagines the unknown voice belongs to Gale, even though it’s not even close.

—

Rosie feels a deep pain in his chest every time Bucky wakes up and asks for Buck. Every time, Rosie has to tell him “Gale’s not here right now, John. He’ll be back in the morning.” And every time, Bucky frowns, and he disappears again. Like Gale is the only reason he’s stayed alive this long and there’s no reason to exist if he isn’t here.

Rosie is a medical professional. And yet even he doesn’t wholly understand the role that love plays in an intensive care patient drawing in the next breath, and the next, and the next. In a matter of life or death, Rosie used to be inclined to say that, no, love doesn’t keep patients alive. The heart is no more than a muscle that pumps blood through your body, and your body is no more than a vessel for your brain. Your brain is no more than a collection of neurons that, through some miracle of life, let you think and interact with a complex world. Love is not a direct power source.

That’s not to say that the existence of human life isn’t beautiful. And that’s not to say that the existence of love isn’t worth living for. It’s just to say that the human body is going to do what it’s going to do, that intense feelings of love pulling a coma patient back to the surface is something straight out of a cheesy romance movie.

But it’s possible that John Egan alone will change Rosie’s mind.

“He’s regressed since docking,” he tells Helen. It’s late on November 23rd, nearing midnight for the crew – 8pm in Houston – and they are well on their way back to Earth. It’s been 24 hours since Starship rendezvoused with Orion and Rosie and Alex had to pull John’s unconscious body through the hatch. He only woke up once Gale’s entire shift, which Rosie knows tore Gale up inside even if he won’t admit it to anyone. Bucky has woken a few times in the four hours since. Every single time he asks for Gale.

“Buck said he’s been unconscious much of the day?” Helen asks.

Rosie rubs a hand over his eyes. He’s floating in the middle of the cabin next to John’s hammock, where he’s been stationed basically since they got the commander settled there in the first place. As he talks, he’s adjusting Bucky’s IV fluid. NASA asked him to ration it, but Rosie is terrified that decreasing the amount of fluid Bucky receives will mean he won’t regain enough strength. He’s become more and more concerned throughout the day, as the Earth becomes larger and larger through their window. Atmospheric re-entry and splashdown will be harder on Bucky’s body than even the Starship launch was.

Rosie’s worried that Bucky’s heart, his brain, his body won’t be able to handle the stress. If they can’t get some of his strength back, the intensity of their return to Earth might crush the life right out of him like a shoe to a bug. So how in this godforsaken universe is Rosie supposed to tell Gale that, even though they’ve gotten his husband this far, there’s still a chance he dies during re-entry?

“Rosie?” Helen says. Rosie squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head to re-center himself.

“He asks for Gale a lot,” he recounts. “He expresses pain – and as far as we can tell, he’s in a lot of pain. He only seems partially aware of what’s happening to him at any given time, but he won’t stay awake long enough for us to tell.”

“What changed?”

Rosie scoffs, even though he doesn’t mean to. It’s just that this whole situation is basically their worst case scenario – the kind of thing that they don’t even plan for much less practice coping with. They’re all just trying their goddamn best up here even though their best means subjecting their commander to baseline torture.

“His body is having a really hard time adjusting to zero gravity.”

It’s funny, actually, because Major John Egan has never had a single problem with space sickness before. Even when the majority of astronauts experience symptoms of Space Adaptation Syndrome when first exposed to zero gravity, Bucky has never reported more than some congestion from the headward shift of fluids that they all experience. He’s never experienced nausea or vomiting, malaise, or loss of appetite. Hardly even a headache. Many of the other astronauts were jealous of him for that.

“My best guess is the extra pressure in his head after a TBI is causing more problems than we can really anticipate,” Rosie explains as he tries to massage the tension out of his brow. He hasn’t slept in over 24 hours now, and it’s starting to get to him. “He’s extremely congested. Seems to be experiencing vertigo, headaches, confusion, a lot of nausea. His motor control has regressed. His ability to communicate has regressed.”

He can hear Helen typing away on her computer, recording this information for their records. “What are the odds it corrects itself the longer he’s on Orion?”

Rosie shrugs as he double checks that the IV is still properly inserted into Bucky’s arm. It made him feel like an absolute monster, but he had to restrain Bucky’s hands an hour or so ago because he kept pulling at it, obsessively trying to remove it. The only reason he hasn’t succeeded is because he can’t get enough control over his own fingers to grip something so small as the butterfly needle. Bucky tried to fight the restraints, and Rosie was impressed with the strength he exhibited for having almost no nutrients for days on end, but he was still too weak and gave up after half a minute. Rosie tucked Beary Egan into the sleeping bag with him, right over his heart, to keep the bear from flying away.

“I’m hopeful,” Rosie admits hesitantly. “Usually SAS goes away within a day or two. But as I said, this is… a unique case.”

He floats his way over to where his laptop is stored by the main console so he can update the log he’s been keeping on Bucky’s condition. Things like Asks for and accepts water; Asks for Curt and Gale; Responds to pain stimuli; Complains about head and leg pain; 0800 - vomited bile; 1100 - vomited bile; 11:30 - Trouble swallowing water; 1300 - vomited bile; 14:30 - vomited bile; 1600 - scratching at head wound; Keeps trying to remove IV; 22:30 - restrained hands.

23:45 - decreased IVF.

Early this morning, Rosie was able to use their X-ray machine to check Bucky’s leg. He was happy to report that Curt managed to set it properly, and it should hopefully heal well enough once they make it back home. If they can keep Bucky from messing with it and potentially re-injuring himself.

Silver linings.

“I’m worried about the IV fluid.”

“I know,” Helen says.

“I was hoping I’d be able to get him eating solid food once he was back on Orion, but at this rate, I’m lucky if I can get him to swallow water without coughing it back up.”

There’s a brief silence before Helen comes back. “We think you should try giving him something easy tomorrow. Cereal or soup. You should have enough food rations to sacrifice some, if he can’t keep it down.”

Rosie watches the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s chest. Even in sleep, he looks pained. “I can try.”

—

Nassau Bay, TX

Gale has given up even considering sleeping in his bedroom. He spent last night tossing and turning on the couch, even though he knew he’d wake up with all sorts of pain in his neck and back. He has to admit, he isn’t twenty-two anymore. But the thought of sleeping in that too-big bed without John’s arms around him is too much. He’s forcing himself to stay in the living room, even though he’s terrified to be alone. Even though the darkness closes in on him, making him feel like that lonely child afraid of the night. He doesn’t want to bother Marge again; she’s spent too much time trying to hold him together.

John’s pillow smells less and less like John. When Gale woke up far too early this morning, the creeping fear from a forgotten nightmare crawling over his mind, he cried into the pillow, mourning something that he nearly lost but hasn’t yet found again. Mostly, he shoves his nose against the pillowcase and tries to find the last remnants of that smoky-sweet scent that he would give anything to smell again. Counting the minutes, the seconds, until John comes home.

Before and during rendezvous, Alex and Rosie adjusted Orion’s course to drop from NRHO into LLO, so that they would dock with Starship and remain in low lunar orbit rather than continuing on into the much longer near-rectilinear halo orbit. The original flight plan called for continuing in NRHO for a few days before performing a burn that would essentially slingshot the crew around the moon and back towards Earth. But with Bucky still in critical condition, they simply don’t have that kind of time.

Early this morning, Benny walked Curt through a trans-Earth injection burn, kicking the crew out of LLO. If all goes to plan, the new flight path will bring them home in 3.5 days rather than the roughly week-long journey that NRHO would have necessitated.

All that to say, Gale will be with his husband again in T-3 days. 72 hours. 4,320 minutes.

259,200 seconds.

About 260,000 heartbeats.

One. Two. Three. Four…..

He’s given up trying to look through the wedding pictures. Sometimes he opens the tab on his phone and simply stares at that first look photo, the one of John seeing him in his wedding suit for the very first time. He imagines Bucky’s hands on his waist, the softness of Bucky’s hair beneath his fingers, that wayward curl over his head. He thinks about Bucky’s smile – perfect, carefree, beautiful, something sent by the angels.

Sometimes it hurts too much, and all Gale can do is try not to chuck his phone at the wall. He actually did once, when he stupidly gave in to the urge to go on social media. He had to relocate one of the framed photographs on their living room wall to hide the dent he made.

“Fag’s coming home,” people on social media say.

“I vote we leave him up there.”

Gale wonders how people can be so cruel to a man that has given everything for his country time and time again.

During Gale’s shift today, Bucky only woke up once. For eight hours, Gale stood or sat at his desk, wedding ring pressed to his lips, coffee clutched in a death grip, guiding the crew through cabin checks and correctional burns. And Bucky only woke one time, screaming in pain. Rosie and Dr. Huston both tell Gale that the Starship launch was a lot for John’s brain and body to handle, and they aren’t surprised he needs time to recover. They tell him that it isn’t really a step back, that it isn’t anything to worry about. But Gale knows they aren’t telling him the whole story.

What if they ruined his chances, strapping him into that rocket? What if it was too much for him to handle? What if he doesn’t recover? What if he’s made it this far, and he’s not strong enough to finish the journey home? And now, when they’re running out of IV fluid…

Gale’s whole life feels like a what if. He’s so, so close to having his husband back, safe in his arms. And yet they have so terribly far to go.

Minimal consciousness. Minimal consciousness. Minimal consciousness. That’s what everyone keeps calling it. That’s the official statement that Marge gave in the press conference that aired this afternoon. “Major Egan remains in a state of minimal consciousness… Hard time remaining aware… basic communication… vertigo… brain fog… confusion… pain…”

That’s the purgatory that Bucky is in.

“We’re hopeful he will continue to improve… we are doing everything we can to bring our boys home.”

The TV clicks off. Gale looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor, alone, holding the pillow in his lap. He changed out of his work clothes when he came home and is wearing the Yankees sweatshirt and a pair of black joggers, his socked feet tucked beneath his crossed legs. Marge sighs deeply as she looks at him, remote in hand. “You’re just torturing yourself.”

“You’re the one who did the press conference,” Gale mutters.

“It’s my job, Gale.” She frowns as she sets the remote on the coffee table. “Go get your dogs. It’s a nice day, and you need fresh air. I can come if you want company.” She’s slowly starting to trust him again.

Gale shakes his head and gets to his feet, carefully placing the pillow back on the couch. “I’ll go.”

Marge is right, it is a nice day. Cool, but not cold. The bite in the air makes Gale pull the sleeves of the sweatshirt over his hands, and he thinks about walking through the neighborhood with John when they first moved here, almost exactly four years ago. He thinks about Bucky’s warm hand in his, his wild grin as he pointed this direction and that, pretending to be a tour guide of this place that he’d never so much as visited before. “To your left, you’ll see a wild seagull in its natural habitat…”

Benny answers the knock on his door faster than Gale expected him to, and when he meets Gale’s eyes, his face is filled with a worry that punches Gale right in the gut, a worry that Gale is simply not equipped to handle right now.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Benny runs a hand through his hair and motions behind him, where the dogs lay on the hardwood instead of greeting Gale, tails wagging, like they normally do. “Pepper won’t eat. Did she eat breakfast?”

Gale feels his heart drop. The happy memory of John is replaced by dread washing over him. Suddenly, it feels far too cold outside after all. He rubs a sleeve-covered hand over his eyes. “I… I can’t remember,” he realizes. He bites at his lip, furrowing his brow. “Marge fed her. I can’t remember.”

He vaguely remembers Marge saying something about Pepper this morning. She looked concerned. He was so exhausted though, so drained. He remembers tightening his tie around his neck, feeling it choke the air from his lungs, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he nodded. He muttered something along the lines of “I’m sure she’s fine.”

How could he have neglected his baby girl? How could he have ignored something that was so obviously unlike her? How terrible of a pet parent is he?

He rubs his hand over his mouth, and Benny must see the distress clear as day all over his face, because he puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “It’s okay.”

“Why can’t I remember?” Gale whispers.

Benny chuckles softly and pulls him into a hug. It makes Gale feel pathetic, the way tears well up in his eyes so easily, and he holds his breath to stop them from spilling over. “If those bags under your eyes are anything to go by, you’re not sleeping,” Benny points out. “And Marge says you’re barely eating.” He sighs, holding Gale tighter. “Breathe, Buck.”

Gale struggles to draw air in through his nose, and Benny rubs his back. “What are we gonna do with you?”

“Send me to the moon, apparently,” Gale mutters. “Didn’t you hear, that’s where America wants to send us fags to die.”

He feels Benny go stiff, tensing at his cruel words. “Buck,” he breathes out, his voice full of sorrow.

“It’s fine,” Gale insists. He wriggles out of Benny’s hold and wipes his eyes. “I’m fine. I-I’ll take her to the vet tomorrow, if she doesn’t eat by the time my shift ends.”

He walks past Benny into the house, kneels down next to Pepper as she lays on the floor. She whines and presses her cold nose against his arm, and he smiles sadly as he strokes her ears. “Pep, don’t do this to me, sweetie. I can’t…”

He sighs and closes his eyes. It doesn’t matter if he can or not; he has to do it all anyway. He has to keep them all afloat. Absently, he rubs his thumb over his wedding ring.

“That’s it,” Benny says. “Have you eaten dinner?”

Gale shakes his head. Marge made pasta, but he could only stomach a few bites. She told him he’d have to try again later. “You’re supposed to be sleeping before Blue Shift,” he reminds Benny.

Benny motions to the door, referencing how quickly he opened it. “Does it look like I was sleeping? Now come on. I’m gonna heat up some soup and you’re not leaving until you eat it.”

—

November 24

Sometime in the middle of the night, Rosie wakes up to Bucky making panicked noises somewhere along the lines of “Uh??? Uh? Uhm…” his voice pitching higher and higher. Despite getting basically no sleep at all, Rosie scrambles at top speed to disentangle himself from his sleeping bag of a hammock, which is strapped vertically to the wall of Orion, and he fumbles with the switches by the main console to get the overhead cabin lights turned on. Curt, in the horizontally strung up hammock beside Bucky, mumbles in displeasure as he wakes and has to squint against the fluorescent brightness assaulting his eyes from above. Alex does the same from his sleeping bag, also secured to the wall, on the other side of the cabin.

Rosie rubs at his own eyes as he pulls himself down to Bucky’s level.

“What’s wrong with him this time?” Curt asks through a yawn. Rosie knows it isn’t meant to come out as annoyed as it sounds. Curt, after all, has been the one dealing with every bullshit twist of fate the universe has thrown Bucky’s way this entire time.

Bucky’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Rosie, then down at his hand, which he’s holding in front of his face. Rosie doesn’t know how the hell he managed to break free of the restraints, but on some level he’s actually relieved. Because that means there’s no point in restraining him again. His breathing isn’t well controlled, shifting from quick gasps to hardly breathing at all and back. Rosie takes his shaking fingers gently and tries not to wince when he feels something wet against his skin.

Red.

“He’s got blood on his hand,” Rosie tells Curt.

“The fuck?” Curt sits up and looks at Bucky. “What did you do?”

Bucky just keeps staring at his hand. He rubs his thumb over his forefinger, watching the red smear across his pale skin. He scrunches his nose.

“Bucky? Where did that come from?” Rosie asks. “I need to know.”

Nothing.

“John, can you look at me?”

Bucky looks back up at him, his eyes unfocused. “Huh?”

“The blood. Where did the blood come from?”

Bucky frowns and seems to notice the blood on his hand all over again. He grimaces and gags a little bit, making another kind of “uh” sound. Rosie braces himself, waiting for Bucky to throw up again, but he doesn’t.

Rosie tries asking, “John, what hurts?” Since asking where the blood came from didn’t work.

Bucky tries to rub his eyes with his bloody hand, and Rosie has to catch his wrist to stop him from smearing it all over himself. “All’ve it,” he slurs.

Rosie nods and takes a deep breath. He should’ve expected as much. “Okay, come on, let’s sit up.”

Bucky doesn’t protest when Rosie unzips the side of his hammock halfway and helps him sit up, but he does whine when the movement jostles his leg. His non-bloody hand tries to grab onto Beary Egan as he floats away, released from the sleeping bag, but he doesn’t have the coordination. Rosie plucks the bear out of the air and tucks him down into Bucky’s lap.

“I know, I know,” he mutters as Bucky tries to reach towards his broken leg. He secures both of Bucky’s hands in his own to hold him upright and keep him from messing with anything else. “Curt, help me out here.”

Curt crawls the rest of the way out of his own hammock so he can hover beside Bucky.

“I’m gonna sit with him like this,” Rosie explains. “Can you check the back of his head?”

Curt nods and puts both hands on Bucky’s shoulders, using them as leverage to pull himself closer to his commander’s backside. Gently, he brushes aside the short strands of hair that are slowly growing back after Curt had to shave off the patch around the head wound.

“Bingo.” His own fingers come away bloody, and he shows Rosie. “He broke open the stitches.”

Rosie frowns and looks pointedly at Bucky. “You’re not supposed to bother those.”

He can’t stay mad, though, when Bucky mutters a quiet but intelligible “Sorry,” even as his eyes are so unfocused that Rosie has no faith he knows what he’s apologizing for.

“I’m gonna have to wrap it all up again, you know.” Rosie tries to catch Bucky’s eye, but the other astronaut won’t look at him. Whatever thoughts are floating around his addled brain are somewhere far away from here.

Rosie asks Curt to update Houston. Then he tells him, “Get me some disinfectant, a rag, a water bottle, and some gauze.”

“Hold on,” Curt calls back as he floats towards the console. “Gotta change our wake-up song first.”

—

“As the sun comes up shining down on the ten, I did too much living and I’m dying again…”

Bucky wakes groggily to the sound of a tired, monotone chorus of his crewmates’ voices, a song blasting in the background. He feels hot and cold at the same time, and a shiver racks his bones, sending pain coursing through his leg. Nausea rolls throw him, and he bites his tongue to hold it back. Slowly, his eyelids peel open. They feel all sticky and wet, like when he wakes up with a fever in the middle of winter and Gale brushes his hair off his forehead with gentle, soothing fingers.

Gale isn’t here, though. They keep telling him that.

He squints through the bright lights of the cabin, despite the heavy ache in his head and sinuses. He can see the others starting to stow their sleeping bags around him, going about their morning. They all look as exhausted as he feels, and they’re all quietly mumbling along to the lyrics of a song he doesn’t recognize.

“I guess I lost my head at the Holiday Inn, but my blood run red, my blood run red.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky mumbles.

Curt’s face appears in his field of view, making Bucky flinch. “Hey! Astrofag!”

Bucky blinks slowly up at him and raises a hand to the side of his head. It’s all bandaged up again. He remembers the blood on his skin. Thought it was a dream. His fingers trail towards the back of his head, and he scrunches his nose at the sharp, stinging pain on his scalp, the pounding that intensifies as he touches the wound through the gauze.

Curt smacks his hand away. “Leave it alone, dude.”

“Shaved my hair,” Bucky mutters. He raises his hand in front of his face, studying the little bit of dried blood still stuck under his nails.

Curt chokes on a laugh. “You almost died. I think you can deal with a little hair loss, my guy.” He cocks his head. “Wait, did you fuck up the stitches cause you were mad about me shaving your hair?”

Bucky frowns. “Dunno.” He doesn’t even remember messing with the wound.

Curt pokes him lightly on the cheek. “I didn’t bring you all this way for you to get your scalp all infected, so leave it the fuck alone, yeah?”

Bucky sticks his tongue out, and Curt rolls his eyes with a fond but annoyed smile that can only be accomplished by someone who knows you like the back of their hand, a sibling or best friend who you’ve been with through everything. Bucky, through the haze of his memory, remembers Curt starting to crumble in the lander. It feels good to see him smile like that again.

Curt pats Bucky on the shoulder and floats away, leaving him alone as life goes on around him. His head spins, and he finds Beary Egan tucked back into the sleeping bag against his chest. He holds on tight to the bear as he tries to look out the window on the side of the capsule, his eyes struggling to focus. Earth is visible, an unassuming blue sphere rising out of the black nothing.

Alex appears next to him, and they meet each other’s gaze. “Want a better look?”

Bucky takes a few seconds to process that question, but his eyes flick back to the planet out their window, and Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Come on,” he says. He unzips Bucky’s sleeping bag as far as it’ll go, and he gently eases Bucky out of it, which is made easier by the zero-g. “Leg feel okay?”

“No,” Bucky grits out.

“Stupid question,” Alex agrees. “Good enough, though? I’m gonna take you to the window. Is that okay?”

Bucky nods, his eyes already locked on the window with a strong determination to orient himself in their solar system, see the view he’s been longing for, feel something other than half dead despite the pounding in his head. Alex grabs Beary Egan and helps Bucky wrap his fingers around him. “Hold on tight to this guy, alright?” Then he gently guides Bucky across the cabin to the little window that they’ve been using as a secondary position indicator. Curt follows with Bucky’s IV in tow.

“Would you look at that,” Alex breathes as they stand by the window. Bucky grins at him, and Alex grins back. He points. “Look at all those clouds.”

Bucky clutches Beary Egan to his chest with his left hand, so hard he feels his wedding band digging into his finger. And he presses his right to the cool glass of the window. It's even more beautiful than he remembers. “Home,” he whispers. “Goin’ home.”

He hears the click of a camera shutter behind him. But all he’s thinking about is Gale, asleep in their bed. Bucky wants to wrap his hands around his husband’s waist, bury his nose in his hair, inhale the scent of him. Sweet and earthy, like sandalwood and salt water. He wants to rest his head against Gale’s chest and hear the beating of his heart.

He wants to go home.

Once the cabin has been swapped from strange dystopian slumber party to astronomical work environment, Rosie helps Bucky complete any necessary sanitary tasks – a process which results in a lot of swearing, angry grumbling, pointed silence, and, eventually, a total loss of consciousness.

Once Bucky comes to again, he refuses to return to his hammock, which they kept set up in the middle of the cabin, even though he’s so exhausted he can barely comprehend anything anyone says to him. Rosie sets him up next to the window again so he can stare out at the stars while they prepare to follow NASA’s orders.

Food. Attempt number 1.

Curt hands over what Rosie can only describe as “goop” – rehydrated milk and wheat chex.

“There’s no way he’s gonna eat that,” Alex says.

They all turn to look at Bucky. His eyes are open, alert, but glassy. His cheeks are flushed in a way that Rosie is concerned about. He’s less lucid than he was an hour ago, when he first woke up, but Rosie isn’t surprised. His body doesn’t have enough energy to keep him going, especially with the lower amount of IV fluid. Bucky turns his head and raises an eyebrow when he realizes they’re all staring at him,

“We’re gonna try some food, okay?” Rosie holds up the package of soggy wheat chex. Bucky used to snack on it dry, but it’ll be too hard to swallow that way.

Bucky frowns. Shakes his head. “No.”

“We gotta get something into you, John.”

“No.”

“Can we try?”

Bucky looks back out the window, honest to God pouting. He crosses his arms protectively over his chest, the bear still clutched in his hand. He protested when Rosie tried to take it away to make their morning tasks easier.

“Please?” Rosie adds.

Bucky looks back at him, then holds his hand out, a scowl still on his face. Rosie nods and moves towards him. “Just nice and slow,” he says. “You wanna try holding the spoon?”

Bucky reaches up to take the little metal spoon from Rosie, but his fingers are too clumsy to hold the handle, sending a clump of cereal drifting into the air. Rosie takes it back, and it takes another minute of convincing for Bucky to recover from that embarrassment. “You’ll be able to do that in no time,” Rosie reassures him. “But only if you eat something.”

Bucky takes a long-suffering breath, but he lets Rosie feed him like a toddler, slipping a small spoonful of soggy cereal between his lips as Alex and Curt watch. He immediately starts gagging at the taste and the cereal pops back out in a glob that floats in front of his face. Rosie re-captures it inside the wheat chex package.

Bucky glares at him, and Rosie wants to laugh at the same time he wants to swear.

“Benny, wheat chex are a no go,” Curt informs Houston.

Bucky turns away and leans his head against the window, staring out into the darkness until his eyes drift closed, a frown on his face. “... and he’s out,” Curt reports. Alex and Rosie gently guide Bucky back to his hammock and get him settled into it. Bucky opens his eyes once and makes a confused, startled sort of noise. He asks for Gale.

Rosie tells him Gale isn’t here yet, and Bucky drifts away again. Rosie presses the back of his hand to Bucky’s forehead, and frowns when he realizes it’s starting to feel too warm.

—

Gale is going to need a hell of a lot more coffee if he has any hope of getting through today. It’s 8am, he’s just taken over the console from Benny, and his first cup is already empty.

Reportedly, Bucky has woken up periodically since his last shift. Sometimes he seems aware of his surroundings, and sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just stares at nothing, won’t talk, won’t move. Sometimes he asks for Gale and goes quiet when Gale isn’t there. Sometimes he’s almost capable of conversation.

Most often, he complains about pain and nausea, and he keeps coughing up bile. Rosie is able to administer some pain medication through the IV, but the only anti-nausea meds they have need to be taken orally, and Bucky either won’t or can’t swallow them.

He broke his head wound open, but he didn’t seem to remember doing it or really understand that he did it at all. That’s what Gale hates to think about most: John, unaware and disconnected. Just floating in space, not comprehending or understanding anything that’s happening around him, because that state of nothing is the perfect antithesis of Gale’s energetic, carefree, competent husband.

On top of that, they’re concerned that Bucky is developing a fever. In space. After the whole crew quarantined for days before launch, and they’ve been staying in crew capsules assembled in clean rooms. There is no reason John should be getting sick now, three weeks into the mission. The flight surgeons all agree: there’s only two possibilities. On one hand, it may just be psychogenic, a spike in his temperature due to extreme stress. On the other, it could be neurogenic, resulting from the TBI, which can easily be fatal if not treated properly. Gale tries to take deep breaths and not think too much about that.

Bucky won’t eat either. Just like Pepper won’t eat. Just like Gale himself can barely eat. Together, spread across 230,000 miles, they’re just a dysfunctional little family trying to survive to the next day.

“Get any sleep?” Croz asks him.

Gale shrugs.

“Bags under your eyes are lookin’ lighter today.”

Gale rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Croz. I’m flattered.”

He’s starting to review the course correction burns that Curt and Alex need to perform today when a muffin and a cup of coffee land on his desk.

“Eat,” Marge instructs him. When they arrived at JSC this morning, she headed off to yell at more media outlets to leave Gale the fuck alone after a reporter accosted them on their way in. He gave a brief comment, mostly because he was too tired to run away, but Marge took it upon herself to continue waging war. Apparently, yelling at the media to get a goddamn grip and chill out is a major part of her job right now. And apparently, yelling at the media includes getting coffee and pastries.

Gale reaches for the cup of coffee in relief, but Marge smacks his hand. “No. Not until I watch you take at least four bites of that muffin.”

He glares at her. “What if I don’t want a muffin?”

“It’s chocolate chip.”

He looks at it skeptically. But he picks it up, aggressively peels the wrapper away from one side, and shoves a bite into his mouth. “Where’d this come from?”

“The cafe, where else? You’ve had them like a hundred times.”

Gale stares at the muffin. “I don’t remember them being this good.”

“That’s just ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything in three days.” She flicks him on the arm. “Now finish that. And don’t drink your coffee too fast, okay?”

Croz scoffs, and Gale and Marge both look at him with an unamused scowl. He puts his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. We all know the coffee’ll be gone in 15 minutes.”

Marge flicks him on the shoulder and walks away, standing tall in her heels, chin held high. The only thing to give away her own exhaustion is the way she can’t stop tapping her fingers nervously against her arm.

Gale shakes his head as he watches her go, takes a long sip of his coffee as Croz stifles a laugh beside him, and he turns on his coms. “Good morning Orion crew…”

—

“Operation get John to fuckin’ eat something, take four.” Curt makes a motion with his hands like he’s closing a film clapboard.

They tried more food about an hour after the wheat chex failure, but Bucky promptly threw up the first bite of soup he took. After that, he adamantly refused to let any of them get anything remotely close to his mouth that wasn’t water. Every time Rosie tried, Bucky would shake his head and close his eyes, wrapping an arm across his stomach.

“Think he’s still feelin’ sick,” Rosie told Benny.

This time, Bucky’s cheeks are still red, but his eyes are brighter. “Fuck off,” he tells them, in a voice that has a vague semblance of its old strength back.

Rosie’s been trying to talk him into at least trying the chicken noodle soup for about five minutes now. Just the two of them in the middle of the crew cabin while Alex and Curt try to ignore them, going about everyday Orion tasks. Alex is using their little exercise box to do some rowing, while Curt checks the calculations for their next burn.

“Bucky, I really need you to at least try.” Rosie mixes the soup around in its container to keep it from settling. “I promise, this is better than the cereal.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No chex. No soup. No.”

Rosie is, at the very least, proud of the longer sentences Bucky is starting to manage during his more lucid periods.

“Ok, hold on,” Rosie says, pointing at Bucky as he floats away towards the console. He returns with Bucky’s coms, which they’ve kept off of him since he’s been back on Orion. They were just another thing that Bucky kept messing with, and they don’t fit quite right over the bandage around his head.

Rosie situates the headset over Bucky’s head anyway, pushing up the gauze to make sure the earpiece sits right. Bucky raises a hand to adjust the headset himself. Another silver lining Rosie has noticed: although it took longer for Bucky to adapt to being in zero gravity again, as he gets used to it, zero G makes it a bit easier for him to move.

Rosie: “Buck, I’ve got Bucky on coms here.”

Gale: “... John? Can you hear me?”

Rosie watches Bucky carefully, watches his lips move, his eyes go wide, his breathing pick up.

Bucky: “Gale?” His voice sounds soft and strangled all at once. It tugs at Rosie’s heart as he sees Bucky’s reaction to finally hearing his husband’s voice after asking for him over and over again.

Gale: “I’m here, John.”

Rosie: “He doesn’t even wanna try eating the soup I made for him. How rude is that?”

He watches Bucky roll his eyes, the hint of a smile teasing at his lips.

Gale: “John, can you at least try to eat a little?”

Bucky: “No.”

Gale: “Why?”

Bucky: “Bad.”

Gale sighs. Bucky looks at Rosie petulantly with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of disgust on his face. Rosie glares right back. A battle of wills.

Gale: “John, I really need you to eat something. Please, darlin’.”

Rosie can hear the tired pleading in Gale’s voice, and he knows Bucky can, too. He watches Bucky’s expression of contempt falter, melting away as it’s replaced with worry for his husband.

Gale: “If you eat, Rosie might be able to get rid of that IV soon. I know how much you hate that thing.”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably, but he uncrosses his arms and looks skeptically at the soup. Major Beary Egan drifts away from his hand, and Rosie catches him, returning him to Bucky.

Rosie: “I think we’re getting somewhere, Gale.”

Gale: “John, can you eat for me, honey? Please?”

That does it. Bucky looks up at Rosie expectantly and says “Fine.” He lets Rosie spoon some of the lukewarm soup into his mouth, and he swallows it this time.

Rosie: “Good. That’s good, Bucky.”

Bucky manages a few spoonfuls, grimacing when he feels the chunks of chicken and carrot sliding down his throat.

Bucky: “Yuck.”

Gale: “You’re doin’ alright. I’m proud of you, John.”

They get about halfway through the pouch of soup when Bucky pulls away and shakes his head in refusal, his brow furrowed. He lifts a hand to press against his stomach as he closes his eyes and scrunches his nose.

Rosie: “Shit.”

Gale: “He okay, Rosie?”

Bucky tries to cover his mouth with the hand holding Beary Egan, and Rosie lunges forward to grab the bear just in time. Much of the soup comes right back up, making even Rosie grimace with a heavy sigh.

Rosie: “Couldn’t keep it down, Buck.”

Bucky: “Bad.”

“Gotta say,” Alex mutters from behind them. “I preferred it when all he was coughing up was bile.”

—

That evening, Gale sits in the back seat of his own car outside the vet’s office, Pepper curled up tight as can be beside him, her nose pressed into his thigh. They’re waiting for Marge to finish with a phone call, and he watches her pace around in the parking lot outside. He feels bad that she had to chauffeur them here just because she doesn’t trust him on his own.

He doesn’t trust himself either, really. His head feels too muddled, his lungs too overtaxed, his body just dragging through the motions with no real life in it.

There’s nothing wrong with Pepper. A perfectly healthy one year old husky, the vet said.

“Her other daddy’s in space, isn’t he?” she asked. Gale nodded tiredly – because of course she knows what’s going on, just like everyone else on this planet – and he tried not to show contempt when the look on her face turned to sympathy. He doesn’t want sympathy. He’s tired of everyone looking at him with sympathy. Or disgust. Or like he’s a good story that’ll get viewers.

Then the vet said, “Sometimes dogs get depressed when their people leave for a long time. It’s a common reason for them to refuse their food.” He had to fight to hide the way those words dug into him, adding to the pit of fear and exhaustion deep in his soul that only grows by the day.

She told him to try giving Pepper a lot of attention and encouragement when he’s home. Make sure she knows she isn’t alone. As if Gale doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, too. As if Gale is even capable of taking care of himself.

He gently strokes the dog’s head as they sit in the car. “I really need you to eat something, baby girl,” he says, just like he said to John earlier today. “Please.”

He rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes. John’s temperature is too high, and it isn’t responding to medication. It plateaued around 100 degrees, though, and he continued improving overall in spite of it. By the end of Gale’s shift, John finally managed to keep down a packet of chicken noodle soup. Mission control celebrated that victory with no less enthusiasm than they would a successful launch, getting to their feet and clapping and cheering, high-fiving each other. Croz patted Gale on the shoulder with an ecstatic grin.

All Gale could do was tilt his head back in relief. “Good job, darling,” he said to his husband.

“Happy?” Bucky’s voice came back.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

While he and Marge sat in the waiting room with Pepper, Benny texted him. J wants you to know he drank orange juice. No vomit.

Gale allowed himself a small smile and texted back, Tell him I’m proud of him.

The response was, He said “fuckin’ better be.” And Gale burst out laughing in the middle of the veterinary office. He had to apologize to the old lady sitting across from them, holding an ancient-looking terrier on her lap. “My husband might not die,” he explained, and the lady stared at him like he was insane.

His phone buzzes again just as Marge opens the car door and slips into the driver’s seat. “Ready?” she asks. When he doesn’t respond, she looks over her shoulder at him. “Gale?”

Gale’s eyes are wet, and he rubs at them, but it doesn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Marge asks.

He shakes his head with a small smile as he turns his phone to show her. It’s a picture of Bucky that Curt took this morning and managed to send through to Mission Control. Bucky, looking out the window of Orion at the beautiful Earth in the distance. His head is all wrapped up, but he’s holding Beary Egan tight to his chest, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he presses his other hand to the glass. On top of the world.

The accompanying text reads: “‘Goin’ home’ -John”

—

November 25

Curt is worried that Bucky is having another seizure when he first notices the way his body is trembling in his sleeping bag. “Rosie?” he calls out as he gets himself out of his own hammock. He doesn’t know what time it is, but their morning alarm hasn’t gone off yet. His mind flashes back to being on the lander, his heart pounding in his chest as he remembers pinning Bucky’s unconscious body to the cot, not knowing if or when the violent jerking would stop.

In a panic, he pulls himself over to Bucky’s side and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Rosie?” he says again, fear rising up in his voice as his throat goes tight and his lungs struggle to take in air.

“I’m coming,” Rosie replies. The lights flick on. “What’s wrong?”

He reaches them before Curt can find the words. Bucky is shivering uncontrollably, but it’s different. Not like the seizures Curt had to hold him through on Starship. The tension doesn’t leave Curt’s body, but he feels the nightmare memory slowly recede.

Rosie presses the back of his hand to Bucky’s sweaty forehead. “He’s burning up.”

Bucky’s eyes open, glassy and dazed. “Rosie?” he whispers. “C-cold.”

Rosie strokes his hair back gently. “You’re burning up, John,” he repeats. Curt hands Rosie a headset as he pulls his own over his ear.

Rosie: “Benny, do you copy?”

Benny: “Loud and clear, Rosie. It’s too early for you to be up.”

Rosie: “Do the bio-sensors have a good read on John’s temp? He’s running pretty hot up here.” They wait for Benny to check with Smokey.

Benny: “Still hovering around 100.5.” High, but manageable. And most importantly, stable.

Curt: “He’s shakin’ real bad, Benny.”

“P-please?” Bucky whimpers. His hand weakly grabs at Curt’s arm, and Curt searches his face for any sign of a way to make this better. He puts his hand over Bucky’s and squeezes gently.

“We’re right here with you,” Rosie soothes, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright, John.”

“‘M cold,” Bucky mutters again, pulling Beary Egan close so his nose is buried in the soft fur.

“I know,” Rosie says. But Bucky’s eyes are already closed again. All Curt and Rosie can do is sit there and reassure themselves that Bucky is, at least, still breathing, still talking, still fighting to get home.

—

Later in the morning, while Rosie gets in his mandatory workout for the day, Curt and Alex review the flight plan for the remainder of the mission. They’ll have to perform another mid-course correction burn in the afternoon as they approach Earth, and they’ll enter Earth orbit overnight to prepare for atmospheric re-entry bright and early tomorrow morning.

“These numbers look right to you?” Curt asks as he chews on a mouthful of dry wheat chex.

Alex glances over at the telemetry data on the console, which Curt is comparing to the burn they have planned. “You’re the pilot,” Alex reminds him, shrugging even though he’s the one who’s been doing the Orion orbit calculations since Curt abandoned them for the lunar surface.

“Sorry, why are you on this mission again?” Curt shoots back with a teasing smirk. Alex flips him off and pushes him away from the console so he can review the data.

“Curt?”

They both turn around at the sound of Bucky’s gravelly voice, and they see the commander watching them. “What’s up astrofag?” Curt asks as he pops another piece of cereal into his mouth.

Bucky sticks out his tongue at the name and Curt does it back to him, making Alex laugh. They’ve collectively determined that, while Bucky’s hands are still shaky, sticking out his tongue is his new equivalent of flipping them off. He and Curt do it to each other constantly when Bucky is awake.

“More orange juice?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, bud. I’ve got more orange juice.” Curt motions to Alex to go retrieve it while he helps Bucky to sit up. “How ya feelin’?”

“Like shit,” Bucky mutters. Curt double checks that the IV is still in place. Bucky hasn’t been able to eat reliably enough to have it removed yet, but they’ve lessened the amount of nutrients he receives through it. His temperature hasn’t changed, and he’s drenched in sweat no matter how much they try to cool him off. But he’s become far more coherent, even if it isn't consistent.

Alex returns with a pouch of orange juice, and Curt holds onto Beary Egan so Bucky can reach for it. He manages to hold onto it with both hands, his fingers shaking, but he can’t keep it steady enough to get it to his mouth. Alex helps him hold it, letting Bucky sip at the juice.

Curt watches Bucky’s eyes widen as he pulls away from the straw, staring in alarm at his own hand. “You good?” Curt asks.

Bucky rubs his thumb over his wedding ring, trying to tug it upwards on his finger even though he can’t accomplish that any better than he could accomplish holding the juice pouch. “Gonna lose it,” he mumbles. “I-I want this… I…” He squints as he loses his train of thought, staring dumbly at the ring.

“Want me to get that on a chain for you?” Curt asks him. Bucky nods, still looking confused and startled. Curt hands the stuffed bear to Alex and heads off to find Bucky’s PPK kit, where he put the chain after the initial accident. When he returns, he feels stupidly proud to see that Bucky is managing to hold the juice pouch on his own, sucking on the straw. His face is flushed, and he looks like shit, but for a second, Curt can almost believe that everything is normal. That Bucky’s just a little sick, nothing to worry about. That the danger of getting him through re-entry isn’t looming over them all like an incoming storm.

“Here, give it to me,” Curt instructs, pointing to the ring. Bucky holds out his left hand but has to stop drinking the juice when his right isn’t controlled enough to hold the pouch on its own. Alex reaches forward to catch it when it slips out of Bucky’s grip. Curt slides the silver band off Bucky’s finger and onto the chain. Then he secures it around Bucky’s neck. “There you go.”

Bucky reaches a hand up to clutch at the ring. “Better.” Then he looks at Alex and demands, “Bear.”

Alex obliges and hands the bear back, then offers the juice again. Bucky shakes his head in refusal, and Curt decides that they shouldn’t push their luck. From across the cabin, Rosie, ever the doctor, calls out, “Those are some good words, John! Gale’ll be proud.”

—

“Good morning, Artemis 3, how do you read?”

Gale settles in his chair and sips his coffee as he waits for a reply. When there isn’t one, he frowns and sets the cup down. “Come in Artemis 3, how do you read?”

“Loud and clear, angel.”

Gale freezes, his lips parting as he tries to process the beautiful sound of that voice, strong and intentional. “Come again, Orion?”

“Y-you heard me…” Bucky coughs a little as he stutters through the words. “The first time, Gale.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Gale says, and he can’t stop the smile that breaks out over his face. Beside him, Croz is grinning at him. Everyone in mission control has stopped what they’re doing, and for the first time, they’re staring at him not out of pity, not out of fear, but out of hope.

“Ready to come home, John?” Gale asks.

“Eh, think I might just s-stay out here. G-good amenities.”

Gale laughs and hides his smile with his hand as he stares at his computer. Bucky’s vitals are displayed on one side of the screen. He’s running hot, but his heart is strong.

He only stays conscious for about twenty minutes after that, and speaking soon becomes too tiring for his fever-addled, space-sickened, TBI brain. But hearing his voice, those words, made Gale feel like he could take on anything for the rest of the day.

About halfway through his shift, he thanks Croz when he hands him another cup of coffee, and he flips through the notes he’s been given.

Gale: “Alright Orion, we’ve got a minor change here on your flight plan whenever you’re ready.”

Curt: “... Thought the numbers looked a little fucked here this morning. Glad to hear your people caught on, Buck.”

Gale rolls his eyes and he and Croz share a look. It’s good to hear Curt getting back to normal, rather than being angry and anxious all the time. Gale gave up pointing out foul language around the time his husband almost died, and even after returning to Orion, Curt has taken full advantage of his moral leniency.

Gale: “Sure, Curt. Croz has new numbers for you.”

Curt: “Alex I fuckin’ told you.”

Alex: “Hey man, I agreed.”

Gale: “Whenever you’re ready boys.”

Curt: “... Hold on Buck… John, fuckin’ quit pickin’ at that. No. I know you don’t like it but I’d rather you stay alive, okay?”

Gale: “Okay, Curt?”

Curt: “Your husband’s new favorite pastime is trying to tear out his IV.”

Gale takes a deep breath and sips his coffee. He asks Curt if he wants him to talk to Bucky.

Curt: “…He’s passed out again, little asshole. Ready for the new numbers whenever you are.”

Gale: “Okay, we’re lookin’ at changes to your final mid-course correctional burn. The NRHO abort is causing you to come in too high.”

Curt: “Copy. Let’s make sure we don’t burn up on re-entry.”

Gale gives them new positional targets and a longer burn duration.

Alex: “And are we still on time for that burn?”

Gale: “Affirmative, Orion. Coming up in… 52 minutes.”

An hour later, when the burn is complete, Croz informs Mission Control that the crew capsule is perfectly on target for re-entry, and Gale grins as he sips his coffee. It’s the end of his shift, and Helen is standing by to take over the console.

Gale: “Orion, you are on target now. Trajectory nominal. Systems nominal.”

Curt: “Good to hear, Buck. Wouldn’t wanna come this far to fuck ourselves now.”

Gale: “We’re gonna get y’all home.”

Just as he’s about to inform the boys of the CAPCOM switch, Curt says, “Got someone who wants to talk to ya, Major. He’s been all antsy about it this entire burn.” Gale blinks and a smile lifts the corner of his mouth, but it runs away again when he hears the nervous tone of Bucky’s voice.

Bucky: “Gale?”

Gale: “I’m still here, darlin’.”

Bucky: “You married me…”

Gale quirks an eyebrow, a huff of a laugh passing between his lips at the out-of-the-blue statement of fact. But before he can say anything, Bucky is pushing through.

Bucky: “I-I know…” Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath. “Was ‘cause you were worried somethin’d happen.”

Gale: “Don’t strain yourself, John.”

Bucky’s barely said a word since he greeted Gale this morning. It takes too much out of him. Orange juice and half portions of soup can only go so far, and they don’t do much of anything for the brain fog or TBI symptoms. Bucky ignores him, though. His breathing sounds distressed, and his voice is quiet and mumbled. Gale can see his heartrate on his monitor, beating too fast, but John gets the words out.

Bucky: “Was it ‘cause y-you loved me, too?”

The question slams right into Gale’s chest, knocking the breath out of him. He feels the eyes of every single person in Mission Control shift his way, and he forces himself not to pay them any mind. He doesn’t want to see the looks on their faces. He doesn’t want to know if it’s pity or echoes of John’s question or incredulity at the mere concept of Buck not loving Bucky so much he thought he might vanish from this existence the moment his husband did.

Sure, the reason he finally popped the question after months, even years, of thinking about it was because he was worried his worst nightmare would come true. And, well, here he is. But how is it possible that Bucky can sit there and think even for a second that Gale didn’t also do it because he loved him?

He tries to tell himself that Bucky is all sorts of mixed up right now. That he’s been passing through intense stages of fear and pain and confusion. That he’s not thinking straight. Random things have been popping out of his mouth all day, and he hardly seems aware of what he’s saying. Gale thinks about Helen and Benny telling him how much Bucky would ask for him when he wasn’t on shift, and Gale wasn’t there. He wasn’t there for his husband when he needed him.

Sure, giving Gale 24/7 access to the console would be a one way ticket to actual psychosis. Chick denied his attempts to sleep on a cot at JSC after Bucky first got hurt, and Gale is honestly glad for it now. But to Bucky, who has been in and out of consciousness with little sense of time or continuity?

Did he think Gale abandoned him?

“John,” Gale says, his voice thick. He flexes the hand he tore up on the mirror, what feels like forever ago now. There’s hardly any scabs left to pull at the skin, and he’s surprised at the lack of pain. He presses his wedding ring to his lips instead, and he takes a breath to pull himself together. “Of course I married you because I loved you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Couldn’t stand not bein’ married for one more second.” He rubs his hand through his hair and tries to steady his heart. “I did love you. I do love you. I will love you. Okay?”

Bucky makes a noise that sounds like something between an okay and a satisfied hum. Like this question that just sent Gale into a tailspin wasn’t monumental in any way. Like he got the answer he wanted and now, as far as John’s concerned, everything is okay.

Gale: “To the moon and back, John. I can’t wait for you to come home to me tomorrow.”

Bucky: “Tomorrow.”

Gale nods, blinking back the wetness in his eyes. He smiles again.

One day. 24 hours. 1,440 minutes. Only 100,000 heartbeats. He pretends he can feel John’s heart beating in time with his own, and he watches on the monitor as it starts to slow.

Gale: “Yeah, John. Tomorrow.”

---

Part 16

Big thank you to everyone who has been reading this AU for a while and also everyone who has picked it up in recent days. People telling me you read it all in one sitting, y'all are crazy and I love you ❤

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k-slla · 10 months

Text

Wish You Were Here

First of all, I have to say thank you to @deanbrainrotwritings for helping me on this one - I really really appreciate it 💖 & @impala-dreamer for the perfect song for this fic💖

Another one done for the @jacklesversebingo :)

Square filled: "I want to be the last one you love." will be in bold

Word count: ∼4.5k

Trigger warnings: Suicide, suicidal ideation, trauma, depression, mental illness, panic attack, angst

My Masterlist

You woke up abruptly. Clock on the nightstand glowed at 3:23. There was no way that you could fall asleep again now. You blinked away the tears that were welling up in your eyes. Feeling them roll down your cheeks, you sat up on the bed, trying to ignore the empty side next to you.

You had dreamt of him again. Actually, the more you thought about it, you realized, it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory of three of you- you, Jensen, and your daughter Elis flying a kite at your lake house on a beautiful, autumn evening a couple of years back.

It was the beginning of September- days were still warm but after sunset, it got cold quite fast.

Elis was running around with the kite until she stumbled on a rock. Jensen quickly ran after her to grab the kite by the string she had let go when she fell. "Hey, Princess, you okay?" He tried to help her, but she just stood up, took the kite back from him and said happily: "Yes, thank you, Daddy! " And ran away again. He shook his head and smiled to himself. "Like mother, like daughter." He said quietly.

You pulled him up and put your arms around his neck. "What was that?" You asked him, your lips teasingly hovering over his, but still not touching. "I said that she's just as stubborn as her mother. Never letting me help her. What am I supposed to do with the two of you?"

You swatted him lightly on his shoulder and made sure that Elis was out of earshot before continuing."Oh, shush, honey. Besides, didn't you help me last night? I remember letting you be really, really helpful. In the bedroom and on the balcony." You said slowly as he pecked your lips softly between your words. Sometimes you were glad you didn't have any close neighbors and that Elis is a heavy sleeper. Otherwise it would've been a very, very uncomfortable situation.

"In the shower too." He added.

You looked flirtily up to him. "Yeah, no, I definitely don't remember that."

"Hmm...I'll have to remind you tonight then, if you promise to keep quiet." He laughed cheekily, and pulled you close to him, and pressed a kiss on your forehead. You stood in comfortable silence in his arms, watching closely how Elis chased after your dog in the backyard, laughing and trying to catch up with her. The kite was already abandoned somewhere on the ground.

It started to get dark, so it was time to head inside. "Elis, honey, let's go inside now!" You called after her. "But moomm! Little bit more, please!"

"Not today, Princess! It's getting cold soon!" Jensen said and she immediately came running back to you, jumping into his arms. She has always been Daddy's girl. "How do you always get through to her?" You were amazed by him. "Let's just say I've had some practice." He gave you a wink and started walking towards your house.

You decided to linger behind to watch them go.

Small moments like these are the ones you would never forget. Now, these memories are even more precious. This dream has been a recurring one for you, ever since his funeral.

You got out of bed and walked downstairs to the living room, picked up an album from the shelf and sat on the couch. Looking at the pictures there were many thoughts in your head. Why didn't he talk to you? How could he let things get so bad that he saw no other way to get out? Why didn't he ask for your help? That's what hurt you the most. That after 8 years of being married, you felt like he still couldn't trust you enough to tell you how he was truly feeling. He suffered alone and you didn't see it until it was too late.

Knowing that this was his choice, was agonizing. Jensen chose to leave you, your daughter, and everyone he knew and cared about. How were you supposed to be able to accept that? It's been close to a year already and no matter what your therapist or anyone else says, it does not get better with time. For you, it still hurts the same.

You've had easier days and hard ones after that. You knew already that today will be especially hard for you to function. You missed him every day with your body, mind and soul, feeling like you were just an empty shell slowly moving through your daily routines. But today, you wanted - no, needed him to hug you, kiss you and tell you that everything's going to be okay. Even if you knew that it was the biggest lie ever, Jensen still always managed to make you believe it.

You sat there for a few hours, flipping through the album, looking at your wedding pictures, focusing really only on the smile on Jensen's face. How the happiness it was showing was just a cover up for all the pain he must have been feeling inside. And he hid it well. "Why did you do this? I don't understand. I could've helped you. Why didn't you talk to me, Jay?" You asked, voice barely above whisper, brushing your fingers over a picture of him and Jared laughing together, hoping to hear him answer. Turning the page you saw both of your handwritten vows you kept from the wedding. The memories brought back the tears that had already dried on your cheeks.

"Y/N, my dear, I love you. More than anything. And I will tell you that every day for the rest of my life. I promise to take your hand today, to hold and to guide you through life next to me, until we're old and wrinkly. I want you to know that I accept all your flaws and quirks because these little things make you who you are.

And while I adore your grumpy, almost lethal glares in the mornings when I forget to put sugar in your coffee, I promise that I have finally learned from my past mistakes.

You are the perfect woman and you make me try to be perfect too. You really are my dream come true, standing right here in front of me. All I ask from you today, is one promise: please promise me that your love for me won't ever fade. No matter the hardships we'll have to go through. I want to be the last one you love, because you are the one for me."

He did tell you that every day. Even when you had the biggest fight that day, you never went to bed angry and not once did you miss the I love you’s. You couldn't help but smile through tears when you read his vows over again, thinking of the excitement and happiness you were feeling when you first heard it. Now, it fills you with sadness.

It was almost 6am and you know Jared usually wakes up at around 5:30. It felt pathetic to call your late husband's best friend at 6am but you just needed to talk to him. Jensen was more like a brother to him. He lost that part of him that day, so he knew what you were feeling. Almost. You dialed his number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey, Y/N. How are you?" His quiet voice rang through the speaker. "Not good, Jared." There was silence on the other side as he waited for you to continue. "I had a dream of him again today. I miss him. So much." You added with a shaky breath.

"I know. I miss him too. Can I-" he breathed in deeply. "Is there anything I can do?" You started thinking of how anyone but yourself really could help you.

"I don't know." You whispered. "I guess I just have to get through it somehow." For some reason you felt like the "acceptance" stage of grieving, just wasn't on the horizon for you, not any time soon.

"You are not alone, you know that, right? You can talk to me. About anything."

You nodded, but realized he couldn't see you. "I know, J. Thank you."

"Would you like us to pick up Elis for the day? We were planning to go to the fair today and I know for sure my kids would be thrilled to have her come join us. You could have the day to take care of yourself."

You always hated the feeling of being helpless and weak. Lately, it felt that it was all you were. Weak. For the last months, someone has been over to help you frequently. Your parents and in-laws came over the most. Surely, they just wanted to check on you and see their granddaughter, but every time they came, you and your home were always a mess. Deep down you knew that they would never judge, but it still made you feel like you were failing as a mother.

"I don't want to burden you."

He sighed. "Honey, you would never be a burden to us. Don't ever think like that. I'll pick her up around 9, is that good?"

"Okay." You said, exhaling deeply, hoping you'd finally get the rest that you've been missing for the past few months.

You dried your face from tears and dragged yourself to the kitchen to make some tea for you and Elis. After preparing breakfast, you went to wake her up. You were glad she didn't wake up earlier. You wouldn't want to let her see you like that.

"Morning, sweetie!" She was stirring in bed tiredly. "Morning, mommy." She mumbled out quietly. She sat up and shuddered. "Are you cold?" You asked and sat on her bed to pull her close to you. She climbed fully onto your lap and you held tight while she was still waking up.

"I talked to Uncle J today. He wanted to see if you'd like to go to a fair with them?" You had a feeling you already knew what her answer was going to be.

"Can we go? Pleeease?" All her tiredness was being swept away.

"He'll pick you up soon, so let's get you some breakfast." You said as you started to go through her closet to pick some clothes out.

"You're not coming?" The disappointment in her voice broke your heart. "Not today, sweetie, but you'll go and you will have fun for both of us, okay?" Giving her a small smile, you stood in front of her with three outfits. "So, what's it gonna be today? Purple, green or yellow?" Elis was at that age, where she had to do everything herself, but she always wanted her outfit to match head to toe, so every morning you gave her some color options and tried your best to match clothes up. The combinations weren't always the best, but it made her happy, so you were happy. "Purple!"

"Okay, purple it is. Come downstairs when you're ready." You gave her the clothes and left her to dress. "Yes, Mom!"

You heard a car pull up and minute later, Jared let himself in, greeting you loudly. "Hey, girls!" He came to give both of you hugs. "You want coffee or to eat something? Help yourself." You said and pointed to a table full of way too much food for just you and Elis. But you couldn't help it, you love cooking, and most of all, you love cooking whenever you're stressed. "I'll just quickly do her hair and then she's ready to go." You ushered Elis to the bathroom to brush her teeth and braid her hair.

A little bit later, you were saying goodbye to them when Jared hugged you again and whispered. "I meant it, Y/N. Please take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will, I promise. Probably passing out as soon as I close the door behind you." You chuckled. "Good! Do that! El, you ready?" He asked louder. "Yes!" And she gave you one last hug. "Love you, Mom!"

"Love you too! Have fun!"

Almost an hour had passed and you hadn't fallen asleep, instead of it, you laid in bed, thinking of what to do next. You knew exactly what you should do- get back to work full time. You were a freelance photographer, so you had some freedom in shaping your work schedule.

For the last months though, you had held back on taking new projects on. You had plenty of events already that had been planned long in advance and those kept you busy enough. But you knew it was probably the best for you to get out there again. Jensen would definitely say the same. For the sake of your mental health, you decided that coming Monday morning, you'd reach out to your contacts to see if anything new was coming up.

Since you couldn't sleep, you didn't want to let the day go to waste, so you decided to get busy instead. And you were honestly surprised to see how much you got done that afternoon. You managed to actually go and get the groceries for the week, instead of getting them delivered and cleaned the house from top to bottom. It wasn't a lot, if you'd think a year back, but even this seemed like a huge success for you lately. At least it kept you busy for hours. Still, you felt like your day was going too good for you and you were dreading the moment when you'd crash. You knew it would come. It always did.

It was early evening when Jared let you know that they'll take Elis with them to dinner before bringing her home. This gave you a few more hours alone. And you still had leftovers from this morning, so instead of just moping around, you decided to take a long shower. Maybe it would make you feel better about yourself.

You entered the bathroom and undressed, suddenly feeling exhausted and drained. You turned the water onto the hottest setting, hoping the burn on your skin would ease the pain you endured on the inside. You didn't know how to go on without him. You didn't want to. It was hard. And you couldn't help but think that Jensen found an easy way out. Like he gave up too easily, without giving you a chance to help him. Yes, you didn't have any idea how bad it must've been for him, but to you, it also felt like your promises of standing beside him, no matter what life would throw at you, were broken against your will. You couldn't stop the thoughts that passed through your head. What if I just do it? End it all. It sounds so easy. I'd be finally free of this constant pain and the feeling of being useless and pathetic. He did it. What's stopping me?

"Elis. You will not give up because of her." You said out loud, hating yourself for even having these stupid, stupid thoughts.

You stood under the hot stream of water for some time, scrubbing your skin until it was red. Starting to feel lightheaded from the heat, you got out of the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking a long look at yourself and you couldn't recognize the woman in the reflection. That there wasn't you. You refused to believe that. She looked small, fragile and tired. Not a sign in there of a confident, happy woman you used to be.

You pulled a towel around you and walked out of the bedroom to get dressed. You stopped in front of your closet and you were nailed in place. You could see it clearly. He was laying in there, like the day you found him. When it was already too late. You knew this was just your imagination but you had to shut your eyes painfully tight to make the view disappear. This is not real, I'm just seeing things. This is not real. This is not real. You kept repeating to yourself in your head.

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Your ears were ringing and your body started to shiver uncontrollably. "No, no, no, not now." You whispered and lowered yourself to the floor before your legs would give out. Leaning against the wall, it felt nauseating to just sit there, but you couldn't move. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but after some time you heard the front door closing and someone walking downstairs.

"Y/N, dear, it's me." Donna's voice rang through the hall. "I thought I'd come see how you're doing. You didn't answer your phone." His mom was here and you couldn't be more thankful for her for coming over right now. She and Alan supported and cared for you like your own parents did.

"I'm..here!" You called out to her shallowly. It took a minute before she found you. Her expression dropped immediately, when she saw you down on the floor. You looked up at her. "I'm so sorry, Donna. I'm - I should've-" I should've helped him, is what you wanted to say to her, but choked up in tears instead. You lost your husband, she lost her son. You couldn't even imagine what she must be going through.

She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. "Shh, honey, it is not your fault. Not at all." She whispered and held you close until you started to calm down a little bit. When someone other than yourself said it, it didn't seem as big of a lie. You took some deep relaxing breaths. "Let's get you dressed and downstairs. I'll make us some tea, okay?" She asked gently and let you go from her embrace. "Yeah, okay." You said quietly and got up.

After getting into your sleepwear, you followed Donna downstairs, where she was already waiting for you with tea. "Careful, it's hot." You sat down next to her on the couch and accepted the mug she offered you. "Thank you." You held it with both hands to warm them up. Feeling the first long sip warming you up from the inside, you sank more into the couch. Donna gave you some time in silence.

"Where's El? With your parents?" You took a sip of tea and shook your head. "No. She's with Jared today. They went to a fair and he thought maybe I'd need some time for myself. She should be home soon." She looked at you like she'd want to say something, but stayed quiet instead. "Hey, I know that look, you know? You can say what you're thinking." You laughed. You had more than once received it from your loved ones. "I'm sorry, Y/N, it's just I'm worried..Are your panic attacks getting more frequent? Have you talked to your doctor about them?" Yep, you knew this was coming. "Well, they're not as often as they used to be. Sometimes they just hit me hard. Sometimes, like today, I get triggered, because my imagination decides to just screw me over." You left a little pause in the conversation.

"I saw him in there again." Thinking back to when Donna found you in front of the closet. "I knew this wasn't real, but I saw him in there. I can't get that sight out of my head. I just can't. It feels like nothing is helping me." You let out a frustrated sigh.

She put her hand over yours. "I know this is a big thing, but have you thought about moving? Maybe this house that you spent your lives together in, itself is triggering you?"

"I haven't thought about it. But it's the only home Elis knows. All her memories of her Dad are in this house. I don't know if moving would be the right decision. Maybe someday in the future, but not yet."

Suddenly your phone rang in the kitchen. You got up to answer it.

"Hey, Y/N, we'll be home in about 20. Elis is totally out, sleeping in the backseat already."

"Okay, perfect, we'll go straight to bed then. See you soon!"

You ended the call and joined Donna again. "They'll be home in 20. I thought you'd get to say hi too, but he said that Elis is sleeping already." You smiled at her.

"Oh, it's okay. I actually wanted more to check up on you today. Had a feeling I should, you know?"

"Thank you for coming. Really. I needed that."

She hugged you. "Of course, dear. Maybe she can come stay with us for the weekend next week?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'd love that."

You said your goodbyes and stayed in the kitchen to wait for Jared and Elis. While you were sitting at the kitchen table, you remembered the first Holiday party that you and Jensen hosted in your home.

Saying that you were nervous that night, would’ve definitely been an understatement. You planned the dinner for ages, before getting the menu just perfect. It wasn’t going to be anything big, just your families coming over for Christmas dinner/ housewarming, but it meant a lot to you to get this perfect. And you still managed to run out of time, so at the last minute you were cooking, decorating and then redecorating the whole house.

“Relax, Y/N, it doesn’t have to be perfect. We'll be fine.” Jensen remained calm as he tried to get you to relax. “It won't be perfect, I can't even make a simple dinner party happen.” You sniffled. He came to stand behind you, while you were slicing oranges for the cider that should've been all done by this time, and started to massage your shoulders. With a deep sigh, you finally let yourself lean into his touch. “Listen...” He put his arms tightly around you. “I know that tonight's important to you, babe, and it's important to me too, but it's still just our own people. They’d hate to see you so stressed out over a dinner for them.” He kissed the top of your head. You turned around and locked your arms around his waist. “You're probably right.” You said quietly and took a deep breath. “So how about we'll let everyone know that dinner will be a little later tonight, and we could turn this into a cooking party instead? We already have everything we need and I'm sure everyone will still have a great time.”

And he was absolutely right because that night ended up being some of the most fun that you've had. Everyone loved cooking dinner together. Jensen and his siblings fooled around the kitchen like children and more than once you had to scold them. After that dinner, both your and Jensen’s parents started to ask about when you two would have kids, joking that you’ve had practice with multiple already.

A little later Jared's car pulled up the driveway. He opened the door and you saw Elis step out, groggily walking towards the house, a new light blue bunny in her hand. "Hey, baby, how was your day?" You asked her quietly when she reached for you to pick her up. "Good." She said quietly and put her head on your shoulder and almost fell asleep again.

"So, I have to come clean. We didn't hold back on spoiling the kids today, I was actually worried if she'd fall asleep from all that sugar." He laughed. "I hope it's okay."

"Of course it is. I think she needed that, so thank you again."

You got Elis awake enough to get her to brush her teeth and into pajamas. She sat in front of you when you were loosely braiding her hair for bed.

"Mommy?" She asked tiredly.

"Yes, honey?"

She turned around to look at you. "Can you sing to me tonight? Like Daddy did?" You felt your eyes tearing up a little. Since the funeral, not once had she asked for you to sing to her. This was her’s and Jensen’s little thing together, so it meant the world to you right now. "Of course, baby." You hugged her. "But you have to know, Daddy was a much better singer than me." That got a little laugh out of her, which brought a smile to your face too.

You got up from her bed. "Come. Take your Bunny with you. You're sleeping with me tonight. You have your Bunny but I want some cuddles too." Her face lit up out of happiness and she looked so much like Jensen, especially when she smiled. She had the same bright green eyes as he did. She jumped off the bed and hugged you. "I love you!" You hugged her back. "I love you too, go on, I'll be right behind you." You said and watched as she ran off into your bedroom. You followed her in there and climbed into bed next to her, pulling her close to you.

"Do you want the same song that Daddy used to sing?" You looked down and saw her nodding silently against your chest. "Okay." You took a moment to see if you still remembered all the lyrics, even though you knew she'd probably sleep in a minute.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

In your mind you could see Jensen singing it to her for the first time, when she was almost one year old. At least that was the first time you heard him sing it.

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

He was in her nursery, sitting in the rocking chair next to her crib. She had just started teething and was crying all night long.

Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her

Jensen had gotten home for a longer break from filming the show and gave you a chance to rest, so he sat up with her, trying to get her to sleep.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better

You remember standing quietly by the door, listening to his voice carrying out the lyrics.

After that night, him singing this song almost instantly calmed her down in any situation. That's how amazingly good his singing was. Not that you needed any confirmation on that.

And any time you feel the pain

Hey Jude, refrain

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

For well, you know that it's a fool

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder

You finished singing when you knew certainly she was asleep again and pulled her closer to you.

The thought that this song is something that will always stay with you, filled you with joy. And while it would take another year or decade, you knew that one day thinking of Jensen would bring a smile to your face and be a little less painful than it was today. You love him and you would always love him, no amount of time would ever change that.

Tags: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94

#jacklesversebingo23 #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #tw: depression #angst #spn cast

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