#and I’m so tired on top of it because I barely slept last night and have trouble sleeping due to my pain anyway

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[httpdwaekki]

sleepy | s.c.

summary: you may be tired but you're not passing up the opprotunity to spend time with your favorite boy.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: food is mentioned but other than that just lots of fluff :3

a/n: i haven’t written for my favorite boy in a while and my bub @giddyfatherchris asked for soft binnie so long ago (I’M SO SORRY🤧) so i wrote this lil thing for her <3. i did get lost in the sauce but what else is new. anyway i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

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(pictures are not mine, credit to owners!)

when changbin had asked if you wanted to come to the studio while him, chan and jisung recorded, you jumped at the opportunity.

however what you didn’t account for barely sleeping the night before and working a 10 hour shift before joining them at the studio. but you withheld that information from binnie because he would’ve forced you to go home and you’ve been looking forward to this.

so here you were, comfy as you could be on the couch in the back of their studio as you listened to your favorite boy sing his lines. his voice was slowly lulling you to sleep with each passing second.

you hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep until you heard his soft voice, “baby.” your eyes flutter open before focusing on the man in front of you. “hi bubba.” you stretch, giving him a sleepy smile. “hi my sleepy girl.” he smiles back. he was kneeling next to you, his hand placed on your hip, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

you look behind him to find his two counterparts gone, “where’d the boys go?” you ask, sitting up, stretching once more. “they went to get food, they said they’d pick us up something too.” he moves to sit next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

“that’s sweet.” you mumble, placing your head on his shoulder. he hums, placing a kiss to your head before laying his head on top of yours.

“why so sleepy, hm?” you wrap your arms around the one he has on your thigh, relaxing further into him. “just a long shift,” you yawn. “plus i didn’t sleep all the good last night.” he lifts his head, looking at you. “what?”

you lift yours, looking to him, “what?” you furrow your eyebrows, eyes searching his. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks softly. “you didn’t have to come, bunny, you could’ve gone home and slept.” he says, concern and worry laced in his voice.

you shake your head, “i know but i wanted to be here, i just,” you pause, taking his hand in yours. “i never get to see you and i’d rather be here with you, napping on this stiff couch than be home in my bed without you.” 

his eyes soften, before squeezing your hand, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” he mumbles, his cheeks burn a pale pink, small smile on his lips. “what?” you laugh. “aw, are you blushing?” you pinch his cheek softly, teasing him. 

“yah! stop that!” he exclaims, pushing your hand away. “ you loove me, binnie loooves me.” you tease, moving yourself to his lap, poking at him. “yah!- stop- y/n!” he manages to get out between laughs, before turning his attacks onto you.

“yah! binnie- no no- stop!” you squeal, laughing as he starts tickling your sides. “hey! hey! binnie please! truce, truce!” you giggle as he finally relents his attacks. 

you finally catch your breath, looking into his eyes. you place your hands on his cheeks before giving him a kiss. “i love you, you know that right?” he smiles before pulling you into another kiss. “i love you more, baby.” he mumbles against your lips.

you giggle before leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

“alright wrap it up love birds.” jisung claps as he bursts through the door, chan following behind him. “jisung!” chan chastises him, “i told you not to do that! she might’ve still been asleep!” he places the bag on the table in the middle of the room before turning to you.

“sorry about him.” you giggle shaking your head. “it’s okay.” moving to sit next to binnie, missing the small pout on his lips. chan carefully moved the table closer to the couch as han pulled two of the computer chairs to the table before taking a seat.

chan started handing out the food, as han took a seat at one of the chairs. 

everyone started to dig in, binnie, han and chan fell into conversation about the track they were working on, you silently watching and listening as they talk. once you were full, you laid your head on bin’s shoulder, just enjoy the background noise.

after a few moments, you had fallen asleep once more, soft breaths leaving your lips. once everyone was done eating, chan collected everyone’s trash quietly before him and han went back to the computers.

you awoken once again by a soft shake, “hm?” you lift your head, taking in your surroundings. “‘m sorry.” you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “it’s okay baby, we’re just got a couple more things to do then we can go, okay?” you nod your head, yawning once again, before he pats his lap.

“lay down baby.” 

“don’t you have to record?” he shakes his head, “nope i’m all done, i just wanna wait to hear how everything sounds before we go.” you nod, laying down, making yourself comfortable on his thigh.

you fell asleep in record time, soft snores leave your lips, as he mindlessly drew shapes on your arm. you stayed like that for a bit, letting the boys wrap up before you woke up once more, in binnie’s car, pulling up to your complex.

“was i out that bad?” you ask stretching out. “baby, you were out cold, you didn’t even flinch when i picked you up.” he laughs, glancing over to you. “oh god, i’m sorry.” you groaned, covering your face.

“it’s okay,” he places a hand on your thigh, “you’re tired, i would’ve preferred you to have been home getting rest, but i’m glad you came.” he gives your thigh a squeeze, sending you a cheesy smile.

“i am too.” you take his hand in yours, placing a kiss to the back of his. he puts the car in park before helping you out of the car. he locks the car before heading up to your apartment. you unlock the door, both of you discarding your shoes at the door.

you both make your way to your room, luckily binnie was in sweatpants and a big t-shirt so he was already comfy. you quickly took off your jeans, opting for no pants, binnie took off his shirt before tossing it your way.

“thank you.” you give him a sleepy smile before ditching your shirt and bra, pulling his shirt over your head. he had already set up your bed so you can slip right under the soft blankets. once under the blankets he opened his arms, you fell into him, your whole body relaxing.

“goodnight, my sleepy girl.” he whispers before placing a kiss to your temple. “goodnight, bubba.” you mumbled, placing a kiss to his soft chest, before both of you fall into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms.

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p.s. likes/reblogs are never expected but always appreciated <3

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[eyelessfaces]

tousled, stubbled, tired

miguel o'hara x reader

well basically I've been obsessed with the concept art for miguel so it is heavily inspired by those (x). not my fault he looks so boyfriend

summary: miguel is on the edge of a burn out, and he's the only one not seeing it.

warnings: none too important I think, just miguel being really tired because he works a lot. swearing, one small (and cringe) innuendo.

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort?, nerdy miguel<3

word count: 2.1k

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Miguel hadn’t slept at home in days; you had been fairly accustomed to him leaving in the middle of the night for safety matters in Nueva York and coming back early in the morning, but now that the threat was multiversal and now that he was the leader of the spider society, he didn’t even bother getting to bed in the first place.

He in fact barely even left the spider society; the rare times he did were for missions, and when he came back he didn’t even take the time to catch a break; he always had something to fix, something to build, a new suit to work on, a machine to program, meetings, briefings, then more missions.

You wondered how he still had all that energy and where it came from, and you wondered how he hadn’t burnt out yet. 

Even the small naps he took from time to time – against his will, you had found him passed out on his desk one day, head resting over folded arms, mouth slightly opened, soft snores escaping – couldn't possibly make up for his lack of sleep, and even though his mutation may grant him more stamina and allow him to stay awake longer than the average human being, the dark circles under his eyes were the visual proof of his fatigue, and it was all you needed to try to drag his ass back home so he could get some rest.

You watched from a distance as Miguel was sitting on the floor, a monkey wrench in hand and a screw sitting between his lips. He looked focused, a small crease forming between his eyebrows as he tried to fix his machine – you had no idea what it was for, but you figured it must be important considering the significant amount of time he had already taken trying to fix it. 

Miguel gasped in surprise at your contact, slightly jumping at the sudden feeling of your hands over his shoulders, your unexpected and unannounced presence tearing him out of his developing state of drowsiness.

“Shit you scared me” he grunted softly, grabbing the screw at his mouth before turning to look back at you.

"Sorry" you apologized, bending to leave a kiss at the top of his head, your thumbs rubbing where his suit was peeking out under the baggy clothes he had been wearing for probably way too long. His shoulders muscles were stiff and you felt them tense even more when he turned back to his machine with a small sigh.

You joined him and pushed the hammer and nails out of the way before sitting down next to him. 

"When was the last time you went to the cafeteria for something other than the coffee?" you asked accusingly as you looked down at the empty mug beside him on the floor, your hand resting at the back of his neck, playing with the hair there.

He shrugged, still looking at the open hatch of the machine in front of him. 

“A bagel won’t keep me awake” he muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the object in his mouth as he tightened a bolt, putting his tool back on the floor with a clinking before grabbing another.

“You still need to eat, you won’t get to finish fixing this machine if you die first” you scolded him as your hand left him, looking at him sternly.

He turned to you and let go of his screw before putting a hand at your arm, his tired eyes boring into yours.

“I'll eat, I promise, but I'll do that once I'm done. I’m really close to getting it, I almost have it solved.” he declared, tilting his head towards the machine as his grip around your arm lightly tightened.

You closed your eyes and nodded once before you opened your mouth to talk again, but Miguel had already turned back to work at his machine. You let out a small sigh and grabbed the screw he previously had at his mouth to fiddle with it.

"When was the last time you had a real night of sleep? Because I don't recall seeing you in our bed in what– almost a week at least?"

"Are we playing 21 questions?" he asked sarcastically as he turned to you again, clearly beginning to lose patience. 

You paused and looked away from him, a small sigh leaving your mouth before you looked back in his direction.

"We're playing 'I'm worried about my boyfriend', it's a game where said boyfriend barely takes care of himself and drowns in work and in which everyone around him witnesses his vital needs getting neglected." you said as you didn’t even try to make it sound like a joke, just blatantly showing him how upset you were.

He pinched his lips before his gaze dropped to his lap.

“Miguel” you called. “Take a break. Please. This is a request for now but if you keep on being stubborn this is gonna become an order” you said as you shifted closer to him. 

"I don't wanna fight with you. I really don't" you nodded as you put a hand to his shoulder. 

"And you would lose, because you don't have enough energy to outbid, and it's gonna hurt your ego so it's best for the both of us if you just listen to me" you explained, a smile appearing over your face when he softly chuckled and shook his head. "Okay?" you asked raising your eyebrows, awaiting his response.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay" he nodded, his half lidded, tired and bloodshot eyes looking up at you. 

"Good" you pinched your lips in a smile as you brushed away the shorter strands of his tousled hair falling over his forehead, before leaving a kiss there.

He tiredly smiled at you when you pulled away, leaning into your touch when your fingers ghosted over the light stubble on his cheeks that had grown over the past few days.

You shrugged. “I like it” 

“I don’t.”

You chuckled at his harsh response, your hand fully resting at his cheek. “Come back home with me and we’ll shave it.” you shrugged. “After a well needed shower” you continued, teasing him as you pinched your nose and faked a wince, making him nudge your side as he huffed out a laugh.

“I know it’s getting critical, I just haven’t had the time for it” he said grunting as he got up from the floor. “Lyla even said 'I don’t have olfactory sensors but I know that you stink'” he mocked as he took a higher voice and imitated the sassy attitude of his AI, making quotation marks with his hands.

You laughed at the a-bit-too-accurate imitation and got up too when he offered you his hand to help you up.

"Come on, let's get you something to eat and go back home"

—

You were already sitting on your bathroom counter, razor in hand when Miguel came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging around his hips. 

“Sure you don’t wanna keep it?” you asked teasingly, pointing at your own face to refer to his five o’clock shadow as he walked up to you.

“No. I don’t wanna look like Peter B” he grumbled as he joined you. You huffed out a laugh and caged him with your legs, bringing him closer to you.

He let his forehead rest against your shoulder, planting his hands at either side of the counter while you brushed his wet and dripping hair back, almost shuddering as you felt the gentle scruff of his stubble against your skin when his face shifted to your neck.

“Alright” 

He tilted his head back up at you, the worn out expression over his face paining you. 

You took a hold of his face and shaved him in silence, and you didn’t blame him for the lack of conversation and clever things to say. He probably had been dealing with a lot of stuff this week, trying his best so things wouldn’t turn out to be catastrophic so he probably wanted it all to be quiet now.  

Following along his sharp and defined jawline, you shaved to the shape of his face, razor gently and thoroughly following each line, careful not to go too fast and slip and cut him. 

“I'm so tired. Working twenty-four seven didn’t give me time to realize it but now it's crushing me” he mumbled, his voice barely louder than a whisper so his movements wouldn't be too harsh and wouldn't make you slip.

“I know. It all comes crashing down one moment or another” you said with an empathetic smile, rubbing your thumb over his left cheek once you were done with that area. He responded with a small hum.

It didn't take too long for you to be over with your task, and you put the razor down by the sink before grabbing the aftershave bottle, squeezing the lotion onto your hands and gently lathering it over his face, appreciating the smell you never realized you were that used to.

"Done. All clean shaven" you declared as he put his hands at either side of your neck, smiling tiredly before slotting his lips against yours.

"Thank you" he softly smiled.

"Come on, let's get you dressed and let's get you to bed" you called as you jumped down from the counter, exiting the bathroom as he followed you to the bedroom.

—

“You know, at this point you could build us quarters at the spider society” you chuckled, rummaging into the closet looking for the same kind of comfortable clothes he had been wearing lately.

“Don’t tempt me, I could make that happen” he declared as he shifted from his sitting position to lay down onto the bed with a grunt. “That’s actually not a bad idea”

You hummed in reflexion. “I could look after you, make sure you’re not doing too much” you shrugged as you turned to him to throw him a pair of clean boxers.

“Forget about what I said. ‘Don’t need you to try to babysit me all the time, I already have Lyla for that” he chuckled as he let the towel down to put on the clothes you were progressively throwing at him.

“Where was she to babysit you these past few days?” you asked as you joined him and crawled onto the bed.

“Had to turn her off. You, I can’t” he teased with a small smirk plastered over his face before putting his shirt on, grunting as you pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Asshole” you playfully hit his chest, leaning down next to him. "Right, you could only turn me on." You stared at the ceiling as you waited for any type of response, a chuckle, a small laugh, a nudge, but nothing came, nothing happened. 

Your look darted to his direction, and you giggled as you watched him trying to hold back a laugh.

"That's a bad joke, for my defense I'm exhausted so it doesn't count" he shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand, desperately grunting.

"Yeah, right" you huffed out a laugh as you let your head rest over his chest. 

The tension quickly diffused, the atmosphere getting calmer and the room getting quieter as you absentmindedly let the tip of your fingers trace patterns over his chest slowly rising and falling.

"Thank you" he softly muttered, breaking the silence, tearing you out of your thoughts.

"What?" you asked, confused, your fingers stopping in their trail. 

"Thank you for dragging me out of there, out of this hole"

You paused and shifted so you could look back at him, propping your elbow next to his face, holding your chin in the palm of your hand.

"Miguel, you know I'll always have your back, right?" you rhetorically asked, your fingertips now tracing his face, all soft from the aftershave.

He nodded as his eyes darted to your face.

"Yeah. I know" he pinched his lips in a soft smile as he looked at you, fighting so his eyes could remain open. 

You mirrored his smile, leaning over so you could leave a kiss at his lips, running your fingers over the side of his face one last time.

“You can rest now. I got you”

He softly hummed before his eyes closed under the weight of the responsibilities weighing on him, a small sigh of relief leaving him as your fingers raked through his hair. 

It didn't take long for you to register he was asleep, his breath slowing down, the steady heaving of his chest and a peaceful expression over his face.

You couldn't bring yourself to move, couldn't bring yourself to leave him.

—

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[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.13 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

SMUT mdni! Fun fact the second part of this chapter is based on my life last night LOL! Also sorry this is kinda a shorter chapter!

You had been strolling round the market as Ellie slept in, a routine you had come to enjoy as when you returned she was always awake and you would make some breakfast together and sit outside together to eat it as you soak up the summer sun. Sundays were your favourite day because of this and because neither you or Ellie typically got put on patrol for Sundays you always spent the day together. Your day had been off to a good start, as it always was until you heard your name mentioned by someone from round the corner you were standing at, if you had been rational you would’ve just carried on walking and ignored it but you weren’t because the second you stopped to listen you also heard Ellie’s name. 

“Yeah apparently she went fucking insane and tried to strangle Ben when he was literally just trying to keep her safe.” 

“Well she’s a fucking psycho what do you expect, don’t you remember when she beat up her dad and they’re both still together apparently and flaunting it in front of everyone.” 

“Yeah I mean first, who wants to see that ugh and second, her dad seems so sad and she’s just parading around with the girl that beat him up, what a shitty daughter.” 

“No kidding, maybe they are meant for each other, both fucking weirdos.” It wasn’t even what they said about you that set the fire of your rage alight, it was what they had said about Ellie, they knew absolutely nothing about either of you and they were trashing the sweetest person in your life without a second thought, a switch flipped inside of you and you stormed round the corner to face the two girls that had been gossiping about you both. You sneer at their guilty faces and when Petra smiles and hits you with a ‘Hey girl, haven’t seen you in awhile, how you been?’ you just lost it. Your fist swung at her before you even had a chance to reconsider your actions. Petra falls to the floor and as Suze tries to run you grab at the collar of her shirt and yank her backwards causing her to fall almost on top of Petra. You kicked at both of them before kneeling over them and smiling at their cries and pleads for you to stop, they fell on deaf ears as you delivered swing after swing to their already mangled faces. 

You could’ve killed them if Jesse and Raphael hadn’t come running over to drag you off of them, even with their strength holding you back you still weren’t done. You thrashed and kicked at them before you body slammed Raphael sending him to the floor only to then elbow Jesse in the face. He was your friend and you felt bad but you didn’t care, all you cared about was caving those bitches faces in. You deliver a few more hard kicks before Jesse comes up behind you once again, this time wrapping his arms around you, trapping yours at your side as he drags you away from the unconscious girls. You screamed and grunted as you tried to break free but he had you tightly. You were barely in there and the sound of Maria’s angry voice was a muffled buzz in your head as you continued to thrash despite the ache in your body. 

“She won’t fucking calm down Maria.” 

“Put her in the jail, she’ll tire herself out.” 

“Seriously? The jail?” Jesse’s shock at Maria’s words caused him to loosen his grip around you just enough for you to squirm free and immediately go running at the girls again only to be body slammed backwards into Tommy’s strong grip by Raphael. You were shrieking and clawing at him but he wasn’t budging as he started to drag you away from the crowd that had gathered at your little show. 

“Let me go! I’m gonna fucking kill them, fucking bitches I’ll kick their fucking faces in, you think we’re fucking crazy? Don’t talk about crazy people behind their fucking backs!” You’re yelling as if the girls can hear you in their state. Tommy is grunting and growling at your consistent fighting. You don’t stop thrashing until you’re shoved into one of the jail cells and the door is shut on you and locked by Tommy. You can barely make out what he’s saying but you think he’s saying something about once you’ve calmed down, you can come out, but you don’t care, all you can think about is those stupid fucking girls. Your breathing is heavy and laboured as you pace the small dimensions of the cell until your legs ache and you drop to the ground, laying on your back and trying to catch your breath. You still wanted to kill them but the blinding rage that had taken over you was wearing off and you’re now realising the situation you had got yourself in as you have no idea when Maria or anyone is going to come back to let you out. “Fuck.” 

You guessed it had been hours before anyone came into the jail but as the sound of the double doors creaking open hit your ears you jolted upright, ready to leave until you see Ellie creep through the door. “Oh god.” You whine as you see the shit-eating grin on her face as she comes and sits down in front of your cell. 

“Hey jailbird.” 

“Shut up.” 

“When I woke up and you weren’t home, I was not expecting to find you here.” 

“Ellie you’re not fucking funny.” She can’t contain her laughter at your predicament as you just glare at her, half out of embarrassment and half out of frustration that she was outside of the cell, and you were trapped inside. 

“How the fuck did you even manage to land yourself in here?” 

“I heard some girls chatting shit about us and I just lost it, I can barely even remember what happened.” 

“Well Jesse is in the infirmary with a broken nose so I assume you did that too.” 

“Shit yeah I think he tried to get me off of them and I was... not happy about that, is he mad?” 

“I dunno, I came straight here when Tommy told me where you were but knowing Jesse, I doubt it.” 

“Shit I need to apologise.” 

“Well come on then.” She says trying to hold back a chuckle at her own teasing. 

“You’re such a dick.” You cross your arms and huff as she pouts at you. 

“Can’t believe my girlfriends a jailbird.” 

“I am not!” 

“Sure, okay.” As she continues to laugh the door creaks open again, Ellie’s face changes from a smug expression to a panicked one as Maria walks in scowling at her, she jumps to her feet and smiles sheepishly at her. “Hey Maria.” 

“I need to speak with our inmate here and you’re not supposed to be here anyway so get moving Ellie.” She mouths a ‘good luck’ to you before speeding out of the door, the creak of it shutting again only mocking you. You stand as Maria grabs the key to the cell from her belt and puts it into the lock and your excitement jumps before she leaves the key in the door without unlocking it. You sigh and she raises an eyebrow at you, questioning your ability to still have attitude even now. 

“What the fuck were you thinking? It took three men to pry you off those girls. You’re lucky I don’t leave you in here overnight.” 

“I heard them saying some really shitty things about Ellie, Maria. They’re cunts.” 

“Oh and that makes it okay to beat the living shit out of them? AND break Jesse’s nose.” 

“Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean to do that.” 

“But you did, because you were out of control. This won’t happen again, do you understand me?” 

“Yes maria.” 

“If I let you out are you gonna cause me more grief?” 

“No.” You sigh out defeated, just desperate to be free. 

“Good, seriously, the party at the tipsy bison is happening tonight and if you are so much as involved in an unkind word with anyone, I will throw you in here for a week. You are better than this.” 

“Yeah, I got it.” She scoffs at your unwavering attitude before unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you out.  

“Don’t think I’m not being serious.” 

“Oh I know you are.” You roll your eyes before walking out of the door, the creak that accompanies it is music to your ears and as you breathe in the fresh air Ellie’s cruel laughter hits you once again. 

“She’s free! Everyone watch out, psycho on the loose.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You grit at her despite the small grin creeping onto your face. 

“Oh come on, don’t be grumpy, you know I love you, crazy and all.” She wraps her arms around you and presses kisses all over your face until you’re laughing and trying to bat her ticklish attack away. Neither of you gave a second thought to the fact you were in public and it felt nice, it felt normal and you craved the feeling more than ever, normality, it was so comfortable and warm with her that everything else melted away. 

“Can we please go home?” 

“Of course my little jailbird, let’s go.” She smiles sweetly at you before dragging you towards your home before you can snip at her for the nickname again. 

“I’m really sorry about your nose Jess”

“Eh don’t sweat it.” Your face burns as Ellie chuckles at your shameful apology to Jesse for breaking his nose, the sight of his black eyes and swollen face making her laugh more.

The Tipsy Bison was buzzing with the chatter and laughter of almost everyone in town, you were squished into a corner chatting with Dina, Jesse and Ellie while nursing a drink, you refrained from getting super drunk in case you saw the girls you had beat up that morning, you knew Maria was serious about locking you up for a week if anything happened and you knew if you saw them you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. So when you saw them snickering and whispering to each other as they watched you and Ellie dance together, she had to tighten her grip around you to stop you from storming over to their bruised faces and caving them in. 

“Easy, you know Maria will have your head.” 

“I wanna kill them.” 

“It’s not worth it babe.” 

“Please distract me.” You whisper in her ear before pulling away to give a sly look. Her eyebrows raise as she understands what you’re saying before looking behind you at the toilet, her eyes focusing on her next destination. She takes your hand in hers and begins leading you to the bathroom as the girls disappear from your view. The uncomfortable rage that was causing your skin to boil dissipated to a warm hum as the excitement took over you. 

You both barrelled into a cubicle, Ellie slamming you up against the door as she locks it behind her, there was no one else in the bathroom when you entered but you didn’t care either way, you were both so desperate for each other that everything else faded away. Her lips move against yours so roughly it almost hurts and you know they’ll feel bruised and sore in the morning. Her hands gripped every curve of your body before they fumble with the zip and button on your jeans, you almost completely zoned out the second the rough pads of her fingers start drawing quick circles round your clit but the grinding of her clothed cunt against your thigh brings you back to reality as you attach your lips to her neck and reach to mirror her movements.  

When you both weren’t able to silence your moans you’d kiss to muffle the sound but as you desperately pulled away for air, a whine slipping from your lips, the door opens and a group of what you guessed is about 3 or 4 girls filter in. Your head goes to rest on her shoulder as you bite at your bottom lip desperately trying to hold in the symphony of sounds begging to be released from deep inside you. You hear a breathy giggle leave Ellie’s lips before a quiet but audible grunt escapes her. Your eyes go wide as the girls conversation drops away, your circles on Ellie’s clit only increasing in pace as she glares at you for making it harder for her to keep quiet. 

Your bodies trembled as they pressed together, desperate to get each other off and scratch the itch you felt was always reappearing around her. A choked squeak emerges from your lips as you release at the same time as Ellie, pressing your foreheads together and letting each other ride out your highs. Once you’ve both come down, she presses a quick kiss to your lips before doing up your trousers again and then hers. “Fuck that was good. You’re amazing.” She whispers before pressing a kiss to the skin on your neck, just below your ear and reaching for the lock as she nods at you to check you’re ready. 

You couldn’t hold in the half-scoff-half-laugh as you walk out and are faced with the two girls who you had savaged earlier as well as two of their friends all giving you looks that would have you six feet in the ground. You follow Ellie’s lead as you walk to their sinks where they were standing as the scatter like you’re poisonous just watching with horrified expressions as you both smirk and wash your hands. You’re about to walk out but Ellie pulls you into her once again and softly kisses your lips before saying loudly enough for them to hear. “You’re so good at that, I love you.” With a devious grin before grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the bathroom as you both collapse into laughter. 

As you walk back over to Dina and Jesse, they both give you knowing looks that you can only laugh at as you feel your cheeks heat under their gaze. Ellie wraps her arm around your waist, resting her head on yours and flashing an innocent smile at Dina and Jesse who simply roll their eyes in response. 

You spent the rest of the night enjoying yourself with your friends occasionally snipping at Ellie when she would reference your altercation that morning, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the childish joy that graced her features whenever she would make a joke about it that she laughed the hardest at. She had accidentally snorted while laughing multiple times and each time her cheeks would flush as she had to wipe tears from her eyes as she struggled to keep her composure. 

Her jokes never stopped, even as she was half asleep in bed next to you and her jokes started to make less and less sense as she grew more delirious, eventually you just began humming in agreement with her nonsense statements as she giggled to herself. You were half asleep yourself as she rolled onto you, snuggling into your side and reaching up and taking a handful of your boob and squeezing it while making a quiet ‘honk’ sound, when you look down ready to glare at her you see she’s actually asleep and you have to contain the eruption of belly-laughter inside of you as to not wake her up. You couldn’t wait to tell her about it in the morning, knowing she would be on the floor, she would find it so funny. 

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699 @lil-elliesgf @isitadinosaur @amberputh

[pedrospatch]

unconditional l a safe haven drabble

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After your first night together in the barn, Joel tells you he’s worried about the possibility of you getting pregnant; You tell him that he doesn’t have anything to worry about and it leads to a heartfelt conversation—and realization.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. talk of infertility, mention of pregnancy loss, reader admits Luke makes her feel insecure about her condition, hurt, comfort, soft Joel, dash of fluff sprinkled in at the end.

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: this drabble centers around a sensitive subject, so please be sure to read all of the tags! i know back in chapter five, the subject of reader not being able to have kids was touched on but i still want to make sure I give a good, proper warning. as someone who struggles with reproductive health (PCOS girlie here) i know i can get down about things of this nature so again please proceed with caution if this is a subject that might be hard for you to read about.

This takes place between chapters six and seven.

You lean forward against the wooden, paddock fence with your folded arms resting gently on top of it. 

Joel stands behind you, his chest pressed into your back—his arms encircled you, comfortably caging you between the fence and his body with both his hands planted firmly on the wood on either side of you. His chin rests on top of your head, and every so often you would feel him press a soft kiss into your hair or on the delicate spot on your neck, right behind your ear.

He’d been quiet tonight—a bit too quiet.

Something is off.

You can feel it in your bones.

About twenty four hours ago, the both of you had taken the leap and slept together for the first time. Part of you couldn’t help but begin to spiral a little bit as you began to wonder if Joel had any regrets about what you two had done.

You certainly hoped that wasn’t the case

Because you sure as hell didn’t regret it.

“Joel,” you say his name tentatively.

You’re met with a questioning hum. “Hm?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you state, physically cringing at just how painfully obvious the anxious edge in your tone had been. “Everything alright?”

Joel sighs, his warm breath tickling your ear. He moves one of his hands and places it on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, my sweet girl. I just—my mind’s a bit preoccupied, that’s all it is.”

“About what?”

He hesitates, but then replies, “‘Bout last night.”

Your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

“You regret it, don’t you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Wait, what?” Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and he takes you by your shoulders. He shakes his head furiously. “No. That ain’t it. That ain’t it at all, peach. ‘Course I don’t regret it—are you crazy?”

You frown at him. “Then what is it, Joel?”

Once again, he hesitates. His hands fall away from your shoulders and he takes a step or two backwards, his gaze unable to meet yours. “The thing is, we were so caught up in the heat of the moment that—well neither of us even thought ‘bout protection,” he’d mumbled the last part of his sentence so quietly it had barely been audible. Even in the darkness, the redness burning his face and neck over the nature of the conversation was evident. “We just went for it without even thinkin’ ‘bout protection and I’ll be honest, baby. S’got me a bit worried, y’know?”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

Jackson is fortunate to have an abundance of a lot of things—condoms aren’t one of them.

“It’s okay, Joel,” you assure him after a minute or two of silence. “I’m clean. Luke is the only person I have ever been with besides you, and he’s been so tired from working so much over the last couple of months that he hardly even touches me—”

“That ain’t what I’m worried ‘bout, darlin’.”

You stare at him with a puzzled look.

Then, a split second later, it sinks in.

“You’re worried about getting me pregnant,” you realize, slowly. 

It’s Joel’s turn to seem confused.

“‘Course I’m worried. I finished inside of you last night—wait just a minute, ain’t you worried ‘bout it?”

Your lips part in slight surprise.

Ellie knows about your condition, but Joel doesn’t.

Well, that girl certainly knows how to keep a secret.

“I’m not worried, actually,” you tell him. “Because I can’t get pregnant. It’s not possible.”

He breathes out in relief. “You’re on birth control.”

You toss him an amused glance. “Yeah, you can find bottles of birth control pills in the commune’s market right next to the condom aisle.”

Joel glares at you. “That supposed to be funny?”

Your small smile fades and you look down, your eyes fixing themselves on the dirt. “Actually, there is something you should probably know about me. I, um, I can’t—” You pause just long enough to let out a heavy sigh. “I can���t have children, Joel.”

Although you can’t see him, you feel him staring at you. You can  feel the way his eyes had gone wide, the way his mouth fell open in surprise. 

“There’s a reason that me and Luke never had any kids over the course of our marriage. And it’s hard to admit it, but that reason is me.” Mustering a bit of courage, you finally bring your eyes up off of the ground and look at Joel. “We tried for a really long time to have children. I did get pregnant once, but then I lost it. That was a couple of years ago. I was never able to get pregnant again, so I think it’s fair for us to assume that I’m the problem.”

Joel frowns. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“You said that you’re the problem.”

“But I am—”

“That doesn’t make you a problem,” he says as he takes a step towards you. He grabs both of your hands, holding them firmly in his own. “It doesn’t make you a problem, peach. You not bein’ able to have children doesn’t mean there’s anythin’ wrong with you, alright? So don’t fuckin’ say it like that. I ain’t gonna let you.”

You can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well my husband certainly thinks otherwise.”

Anger flashes across Joel’s features. “He say somethin’ to you ‘bout it?”

“He’ll throw it right in my face whenever we fight,” you mumble to him in admission, feeling a batch of warm tears sting at your eyes. More than being saddened by your inability to conceive, you feel so damn humiliated. Over the years, Luke had all but drilled it into your brain that there must have been something wrong with you if you couldn’t bear his child—what if Joel thought the same? What if he’d start to think something was wrong with you now that he knew the truth? “I’ve accepted that I won’t ever be a mother, Joel. As much as it used to hurt me, I have done my very best to make peace with it because there’s nothing else I can do. But Luke? He can’t do the same. He always wanted a family and I couldn’t give him one.”

“Darlin’—”

“He always makes me feel like me not being able to have a baby makes me less of a woman.” A hot, stubborn tear slips down the side of your face. “And if I’m being honest, sometimes I can’t help but to think maybe I am less of a woman for it.”

Joel squeezes your hands. “Now you listen to me, m’gonna need you to stop that right now,” he all but demands. His voice is tough and firm, but somehow still gentle at the same time. “You don’t say that ever again, you understand me? That couldn’t be any fuckin’ further from the truth.”

“But—”

“Baby. Hey.” Joel drops one of your hands from his. He lifts his hand up towards your face and he hooks an index finger underneath your chin—his eyes meet yours as he delicately tilts your head up towards his. Simultaneously, he leans down and the tip of his nose brushes yours. “There’s no fuckin’ but here, darlin’. You are the most amazin’ woman that I’ve ever met in my whole, entire life. If Luke is too much of a fuckin’ idiot to see how perfect you are, that’s his fuckin’ problem. The way I see it, you’re too much woman for him and he doesn’t deserve somebody like you.”

Your free hand flies to your mouth, muffling a sob.

Joel Miller loves you.

He hasn’t said it yet, but you know that he does. 

And not only does Joel love you, but his love, it’s unconditional.

It’s unconditional, it’s pure, and it’s real.

You’ve never known a feeling like this. Never in your life did you think you would even have the chance to know a feeling like this.

Not until Joel had come along.

Joel gingerly wipes at your face with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you cry darlin’—”

“It’s okay. I just—I didn’t know something like this was possible.” you release a small, tearful laugh.

“Somethin’ like what?” he asks, bringing his lips close to yours. He had known what you’d meant to say, but he needed to hear you say it out loud. He knew slapping a label on what the two of you had wouldn’t make a difference because regardless, it’s solid. He has never been so sure of someone or something in his life. Still, Joel would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to hear you say it and simply confirm what he already knew. “Somethin’ like what, sweet girl?”

You shiver at the way his mouth hovers about a centimeter or two over yours, so close but so far away from where you need it to be. Placing your hands on his chest, you peer up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes and say shyly, “I didn’t know a relationship like this was possible.”

An inexplicable warmth radiates throughout every inch of Joel’s body at the word.

Relationship.

“You make me happy, Joel. So incredibly, stupidly happy,” you confess to him. “You make me feel wanted, you make me feel beautiful—”

He cuts you off, pressing his mouth to yours softly. 

After a brief moment, he pulls back slightly and murmurs against your lips, “C’mon, let’s head on over to the barn so I can spend the next couple of hours really makin’ you feel beautiful.”

[inwhosereverie]

gn!reader x kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

description: you have a hard time falling asleep.

an: ion like this one lmao

you have been squirming and turning all night, haven’t gotten any sleep longer than an hour since last week- always found yourself stood groggily against the countertop making coffee you didn’t even like the taste of but strong enough to keep you awake for 12 hours at work. heavy lids yet you couldn’t keep them closed and even if you managed you would have jolted up anyway before you fully dozed off, it was a mental struggle and it did nothing but infuriate you.

you had noticed a massive decline on your concentration, fatigue weighs heavier, headache’s become your best friend, and you were jumpy- real jumpy. you pour your hot coffee into your favorite mug with a silent sigh and a frown. 4am in the morning, only a blink of sleep and a lot to do before night comes around again. thinking about it already made you tired.

you wrap both hands around the heated mug to warm up your palms then you brought it up to your lips when kyle immediately reacted “woah, no, no, no..” he tuts, causing you to jump and spill half of the hot liquid over your shirt, thankfully it wasn’t too much, raspy grumble drew out from his chest as you watched him jog over to you, taking the mug off your hands “the hell you think you’re doing, sweet?” kyle scolds ripping some tissues off a roll and wiping off the coffee you’ve spilled.

“drinking coffee..?” you question him, concern over your eyes that mirrored his. “you shouldn’t be.” kyle frowns, leaning his side against the counter with a palm placed on top, the other hand on his waist, firm brown eyes looking down at you. you raised a brow at the sight “why not?” you continue to question the obvious, yet you remained oblivious as to why you weren’t allowed to drink something to keep yourself awake. “you my missus,” poked the tip of your nose to empathize as if scolding a child, drawing a frown from you “haven’t slept a single wink, yeah?”

it appears he didn’t really need any insights to know you had sleeping problems. you did tell him, of course, though you also added that it wasn’t that serious and that you could still ‘sleep’ a few good hours.. that is when it was still a minor problem. it’s gotten worse since.

you purse your lips, guilt painting over your features “and?” a sassy tone undeniably mixed into your small voice “and you think drinkin’ caffeine would be a good idea?” he asks, a question that didn’t bother an answer because ‘no’ is the only right one, the others: an excuse.

“i’m fine. i need to get to work.” you huff, an attempt to reach over the mug he’d placed back on the counter but your hand froze when he spoke again “it’s the weekends, love.” a gentle reminder yet a cheeky, teasing attitude among his concern. you suddenly paused, what? he nearly snickered watching you realize, how adorable your tired features were but he knew you’re struggling- knew your days felt longer now that you can’t sleep at all. he cracks a smile before gently sliding the mug further from you, “get back to bed.” he demands sweetly, tapping a finger beneath your chin to get you out from your zoned state.

it didn’t take him much effort to put you back to bed, he only had to sling you over his shoulder and tuck you back in. now you were back in bed, underneath the duvet you two share, scooped and guarded by his arms that are so gently wrapped around you, your own arm draped over his side, his warmth transfering itself to your rather cold skin humming some song softly over your ears, so much more better than the way your mug and a coffee could ever warm you up.

you were nuzzled into his neck, sniffing his morning scent that made you relax and you could tell he too was falling back to slumber when his lullaby started becoming quiet and rasp, then the subtle kiss that were placed on your shoulder when he exhaled. you found yourself with half-lidded eyes, you could barely keep them open when he started running his fingers through your hair, tracing shapes over your back. it felt like home

you slept like a baby that day and don’t be surprised to be awoken by a nice aroma of meals being cooked in the kitchen.

[neuroprincess]

Hey I’m the anon who requested jjxreader! Maybe like the reader works for bau. Her and jj haye each other can’t work together etc but turns out that’s all just tension👀

Hi lovely anon, sorry for the delay, hope it's as you expected and enjoy ^^

Why do you hate me? - Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader

Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader

Classification: +18, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, bratty reader, top!JJ, rough sex, hate sex (?), fingering, oral, enemies to lovers, light punishment

Word count: +3300

Unrevised

Agent Jareau walks down the aisle of the jet, snacks and a cup of coffee in hand, this would be her breakfast on a Sunday early morning, when the entire BAU team had been called out on a case in Alaska. Frustration eating her up inside, not only that but also fatigue, the last case was closed two days before, exhaustingly long and difficult, so she barely had time to spend some quality time with the kids on what should be a few days off but criminals don't take time off and she had to call Will, her now-ex-husband, in the middle of the night so he can stay with the boys. When JJ arrives at her usual seat her tired expression turns to indignation, there, sitting exactly in her favorite spot, the new addition to the team is settled, hair slightly disheveled, wearing reading glasses and concentrating on the file folder in hand. She feels a wave of irritation as if Y/N is sitting there purposely to provoke her, it's not as if this hasn't happened before, like when Y/N openly disagreed with her in a meeting, ignored a point of view of JJ, also interrupted her, what irritated her the most was actually offering help in one of the cases even though she hadn't asked for help. But this time, she went too far by sitting in her favorite seat, strategically chosen years ago. The blonde frowns and waits for the other woman to notice her presence, which she doesn't, even as she coughs falsely and stares at her. Any remnants of calm and serenity she might have had are totally gone as she continues to stare at her. Defeated, Jennifer just sits down on the seat in front of Y/N, sighing audibly in sheer frustration at being ignored again. Then she throws the snack packets on the table, finally catching the other agent's attention.

- Hey - Y/N smiles and puts a hand between hair, taking out a wireless earphone - Bad mood, Aurora?!

Of course, JJ saw this coming, she started to be called Aurora because of her shiny blond hair and for an occasion weeks before when she slept on her shoulder during a meeting. At every opportunity Y/N uses the nickname, knowing full well how much it annoys her, she loves the "I'm going to kill you" expression she makes every time she is called that. Like the one she makes now, staring at her with a red face and dilated nostrils.

- No, I'm not in a bad mood. - JJ rolls her eyes, crossing the arms and throwing herself against the chair. - I was just trying to sit in my seat, but it seems that someone else is taking the place.

- Oh, I didn't see any names on the seat, it must have been my mistake. - the woman makes an exaggerated gesture of surprise, with a mischievous smile on her lips, then pats the seat next to her - If you like, I can reserve this place for you.

- I know you're trying to piss me off, but I'm sorry to say it won't work. - Jennifer replies sarcastically. - How can you be so annoying?

- Emily, they're fighting again! - they hear Luke shout at the brunette as he approaches, taking a seat in the chairs behind them.

- I'm just being nice. Maybe she's just not used to it. - Y/N defends herself, raising the hands in surrender.

- I don't need your niceness, thank you.

- You two are like cats and dogs, you know? - Emily comments, sitting down next to her friend, laughing as she looks at the two of them curiously - I never know what to expect when you two are together.

- True, but I guess that's the fun of it. - the newbie agent answers with a sarcastic smile, looking at JJ - It certainly adds a little excitement to the day. - and then puts the earphone back on, returning to reading the files.

- You know, it sounds like... sexual tension. - the chief whispers, pulling her face closer to the blonde's, then smiles broadly when she realizes how flushed she has become.

- Stop talking nonsense and let's concentrate on the case.

She swallows dryly trying to ignore the woman's comment, thinking how absurd it is that Emily thinks she could see Y/N this way. They hate each other and can barely stand each other's presence, Jennifer feels uncomfortable around her, a frustration with her presence, because she knows she won't come to an understanding with her and doesn't even know how to do that. In the end she attributes these feelings to Y/N's teasing attempts, her annoying personality, and how it makes her feel confused. It's a simply absurd thought. She turns to Y/N concentrating on reading, listening to something random in her earphones and biting the cap of the pen she uses to take notes. Jennifer feels something strange, a small twinge in her belly and an unfamiliar sensation running down her spine, it's something she can't control. Y/N looks, slightly, vaguely, almost attractive. She had never seen her like this, messy, so concentrated, and wearing a nice pair of glasses that bring out her best facial features. She wonders how someone so annoying can look so attractive, so she tries to dispel these thoughts when she realizes where they are going. JJ looks away and decides to turn her mind back to what really matters now, the case, so she picks up her own copy and tries to concentrate, sweeping any thoughts about under the rug.

- What the hell were you thinking? - Jareau growls opening the hotel room door for Y/N to enter, then slams the door behind them as the woman walks over to the second bed - You put yourself at unnecessary risk there, you could have hurt yourself seriously.

And is ignored by her, who just shrugs the shoulders as if she doesn't care and starts to take off the shoes, the blonde walks to an armchair in front of her, throwing herself against the furniture and sighs staring at her. Y/N rolls the eyes and finally gives her some attention, disdain in expression, she knows that throwing herself against an assassin armed with a knife was not the best idea but he was arrested, she left with just a scratch on the eyebrow, she didn't even need a medical suture, just some alcohol, pain medicine, band-aid and an appointment for tetanus vaccines.

- What are you complaining about? - she crosses the arms - I may have chosen the worst approach, but it worked, I came out practically unharmed. And you can't deny that it was a nice arrest.

- You are so childish!

- And you're very boring.

- Inconsequent!

- Shrewd!

- Petty!

- Bad-tempered. Why do you get so upset with me? Why do you hate me?

At this point the two are face to face, both exalted, inches apart, anger in their eyes dissipating in JJ's blue ones when she hears the question. She doesn't know the answer, simply doesn't have one for it, when Y/N walked through the BAU doors months ago, she picked on her from the first moment without knowing exactly why, maybe it was the annoying personality, the random conversations on the jet like Shakira's divorce, the constant bad jokes, the sarcastic replies to any comment, the mania for humming in the middle of a meeting, or even the habit of jumping to conclusions. Just like what happened in the case they just closed. Only then does she realize she is practically on top of Y/N, half leaning over the bed, staring at her expectantly for an answer to the question she has been holding in the back of her throat for weeks, and then Jareau does something she didn't expect, pushes her against the bed, and then something even more unexpected. She kisses her.

It's a shock to both of them, they're still elated and red from the little argument, mixing bitterness with gentleness, it's a bittersweet act. JJ just felt herself letting go, losing control of her own mind, as she always is around the other woman, and her body as well. All the barriers between them slowly falling down. She thinks of pulling away but before she could do that Y/N responds to the touch, hands reaching for the blonde hair deepening the kiss, merging in ardency and intensity. Tongues touch and roll, sliding inside each other as ragged breaths mingled, along with involuntary moans and intense touching. Jennifer pushes her further against the bed separating herself from her, in seconds both are naked except for the part under Y/N and JJ's fingers reach for the waistband of her pants in a hurry, ripping the piece from the woman's body along with her panties roughly, hands slide down the back of her legs and stop at the knee, opening legs further, leaving her completely exposed to her while the blonde keeps it open, squeezing her knees, staring at her pussy with thirst and desire. Excitement takes over both of them.

- I'm going to fucking ruin you. - Jennifer whispers with a serious expression on face and moves her hands to the inner part of the thighs, squeezing mercilessly - Hands above her head. Move an inch and you won't be coming tonight.

Y/N sighs in surprise at the blonde's attitude, at the same time excited, a wave of heat running through her body, wetness building up in her intimacy as she stares at her before obeying. She raises both hands above the head as she had been ordered and keeps her legs open, trying to move minimally, but it becomes an impossible task when JJ runs her mouth down the entire length of her thighs, scraping teeth, kissing and sucking the velvety skin, admiring every redness or patch of marked skin she leaves behind until she reaches Y/N's intimacy, taking her mouth to the honey pot, enjoying the taste of her excitement against the tongue. She caresses the sensitive bundle with circular strokes, which draws loud moans from the agent, she tries to keep obeying the woman but her body trembles in Jennifer's experienced hands and mouth. She hits the right places, with timing and a lusty hard-on that neither of them have ever felt before, sliding with speed and precision into the sweet spots. Not like some ex, high school sweetheart, not even with Will. It's intense, it's different, it's raw and carnal, along with months of frustration and hidden feelings.

She lets a scream die when she feels the tongue penetrate her, alternating between licking, sucking and invading her with vigor, JJ's strong hands grip her hips to keep her still, nails clenching close and leaving scratches in place, which are sure to leave marks the next day. Their eyes meet, it's a sight of the gods to have Jennifer Jareau between the legs, pleasuring her, fucking her roughly minutes after a fight over the case. After all the disdain they have shown for each other. The blonde blinks taking her mouth off Y/N's intimacy, licking her own licked lips and then biting the lower one, teasing her. This draws a moan from her, then another as JJ sucks her again, followed by many more. Y/N arches the back, the hoarse moans of her gasping breath almost muffled between the deafening beats of the heart, she knows she is close, her hands grip the sheets, she simply wants more, more and more, and when the tongue penetrates her again while the other woman sucks her greedily she finally finds freedom. With eyes closed, her breathing fast, and hands almost ripping the sheets, Y/N reaches the peak of pleasure. She moans loudly, enjoying every touch Jennifer gives her as she overcomes the orgasm she had just had.

There is a smug smile on Jennifer's lips, she faces the other sweated and ruined agent underneath her, shaking weakly, trying to pull herself together. But she feels it's not enough, not for the annoying person who made her last months a living hell, so her hands snake up to Y/N's clit, pressing and stroking slowly, making her breathe heavily again, she tries to control her moans but it's almost impossible with the merciless pace of JJ, who spares no energy in making her cum again, in less than a minute she reaches her goal. A second orgasm makes the agent's body tremble, involuntarily she closes her legs trying to regain control of her own body flooded with pleasure, she moans loudly and feels burning, watery eyes. Her body is increasingly hot and sweaty, muscles tense as she surrenders and enjoys all the pleasure that is being offered.

- So what makes you think I'm going to fuck you properly? - Jennifer whispers crawling over Y/N, brushing against her lips softly. She teases the woman as she takes her lower lip between the teeth, nibbling before leaving them, another smile forming as she stares at her with desire - You disobeyed me, but I'm going to relieve... for now.

- And if I like to be punished? - she lifts the head to face JJ, a defiant look on her face and a provocative smile on lips as she stares at her.

Jareau rolls the eyes and presses her body against her, bringing their lips together again in a hurried, sloppy kiss, then holds her by the hips tightly, lifting her onto the mattress and turns her so that she is on knees. A palm in the middle of the back positioning her correctly, JJ wants Y/N to have the legs apart and the ass lifted so that she is exposed and submissive to her. In this position she looks sexier, her curves perfectly outlined, the sight is beautiful and tempting to the woman, her gaze is full of desire admiring her beauty and submission. Just like this to get the brat under her control. Y/N is completely at her mercy and this excites her to hell.

- Ouch! - Y/N gasps as she feels the first slap being given, it hurts and she shudders, taking a deep breath without expecting the next after this one, it's stronger and the skin burns when the same hand strokes the sensitive spot, it's a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes the excitement flow between legs moistening the sheets - I think I like being punished by you - she says, voice hoarse and provocative - I'm hornier than ever, I want you inside me now. - she hums softly, looking back with eyes pulled wide with lust, her body moves with the movements of the blonde's hand, she wants more, she wants to feel inside her as soon as possible - Please, Jennifer.

- You have no right to call me that, it's Jareau, you brat. Are we clear? - JJ grabs a lock of the woman's hair, pulling back the head, bringing them closer together. Her mouth near her ear, she bites the earlobe and pulls, sending shivers down her spine - If I had a strap here, you wouldn't even be able to walk the next day. - she whispers last, not expecting to be answered.

- Yes, Jareau.

JJ pushes Y/N's head against the mattress still holding her hair, making her more prone and vulnerable with hips fully raised up. She penetrates her with ease, without pity or care she enters two fingers inside her, without giving time to get used to the stretching or the sensation she starts to move, in a fast and strong rhythm. Y/N groans loudly between sighs and strangled cries, feeling the pleasure invading her body, a twinge of pain that makes it even more interesting. JJ's hand leaves the woman's locks and finds itself on her hip again, holding her steady so she can maintain a favorable position and finds it. Her fingers slip deeper, disappearing into Y/N's desperate hole, she pulls them out completely and put them inside again in a brutal rhythm, this is maintained until the agent's body is convulsing under Jareau. Y/N's eyes widen letting out a scream as she feels the third and most intense orgasm of the night, it's pleasurable, painful and almost infamous the way it makes her feel, an explosion that brings her to tears. She spasms violently and collapses against the mattress, pulling and dragging JJ with her. The blonde lies down next to Y/N, arms pulling her to nestle there and holds her tenderly until her body relaxes overcoming this another orgasm, it was all so intense and JJ knows the woman needs this. She runs fingers through Y/N's hair, stroking the sides placing a lock behind her ear, kissing down the exposed neck. Then their lips meet in a gentle and calm kiss, slowly both their breathing calms, the newbie's skin becoming warm and relaxed, the tears drying, no longer burning. She lets out a soft sigh as their lips part slowly, as if they don't want to part. Jennifer puts her hand on Y/N's face, wiping away the trail of tears and leaves a kiss where that once belonged. Suddenly it's as if everything that had happened before has dissipated and the only thing that matters is the tight embrace they share. They let themselves go, finally surrendering to the moment.

- Aurora, so you don't hate me? - Y/N whispers, staring into the blue eyes in front of her.

- I think not, maybe Emily was right.

- About? - she raises an eyebrow, curious about what the chief could say about them besides the daily jokes.

- She said that between us there was sexual tension - JJ whispers, bringing her lips close to Y/N's again, feeling her breath - and I have to agree.

Y/N laughs softly, feeling embarrassed and blushing, hiding face behind hands, JJ also laughs and stops her from continuing to hide by holding wrists.

- Okay, I think I agree with her too, kind of, but maybe sexual tension isn't so bad. - she smiles and leaves a lingering kiss on the blonde's lips - So, does this mean we'll stop fighting? - and asks hopefully, her heart squeezing at the sight of Jennifer's smile.

- Probably, I think I'd prefer to kiss you than argue with you. Your brat mouth is of better use that way. - they nod positively in silent agreement - But as long as you stop calling me Aurora, otherwise I'll treat you like the brat you are.

- If the treatment is like the one you're giving me now, you can bet I'll keep calling you. - Y/N jokes trying to dissipate any tension that still existed between them, but it was all gone the moment their lips touched for the first time - But I promise, if you give me a kiss, I'll behave.

The blonde moves even closer to Y/N, placing a hand on her face and caressing gently. She gives her a tender kiss on the lips, wrapping her arms around the naked body pulling her to lie on her naked chest, then strokes the agent's back and head, just feeling her breath against her, then the little sighs and a soft snore. Y/N is relaxed in her arms, a feeling of security after all that has happened, neither of them imagined that the teasing and tension in the workplace was nothing more than repressed desire. JJ admires the sleeping woman, running a finger over the small cut on her eyebrow gently, mentally noting that she would have to give her another " lecture" for this unnecessary carelessness, when the serial killer pulled the knife close to her face and the whole team saw red she could swear she was seriously injured. It had been an intense day anyway, her body feels tired, as does Y/N's, this one mainly because she is on pain medication, so Jareau is not surprised that she practically faints. She is about to do the same when feels the phone vibrate in her pants thrown on the corner of the bed, carefully she takes it and is surprised that it's Emily.

"Hi you! Looks like you had a good time with Y/N, your room is next door to mine, in case you forgot. If you guys would like company next time, feel free to call me ;)"

[witchysquirrel]

Epiphany

Chapter Three

Cassian slept for four days. Madja and Ravenna worked in shifts, one of the healers at his bedside at all times. Wound care was done twice daily; they gave him fluids, kept his pain at bay. Ravenna spent a lot of time at his bedside, just watching him breathe. 

That first day when he’d finally been stable enough, she’d bathed him. It had been difficult to cut the torn leathers from his body, and she was sure she looked like an idiot trying to move his dead weight by herself. Nonetheless, Ravenna tossed the ruined leathers aside and went to work. It took her two hours and several buckets of soapy water to fully scrub away all of the blood and dirt and sludge that coated every inch of Cassian’s body, chipping away at it until she could see his skin again. And then a second scrub to actually clean. When she was done, she washed his hair, separating dried blood and mud from the dark strands until she could comb it smooth.

Ravenna put a fresh pair of sweatpants on him, deciding her work was done, as she was entirely sweating by the time she had finished this endeavor. Ravenna looked down at him, resting so peacefully beneath battered wings, the angles of his face illuminated in the lamp light. Ravenna thought Cassian was objectively beautiful, she knew everyone thought he was. He was an infamous ladies man that had had a handful of great loves, but even more sex with strangers. 

Cassian had been known to flirt with Ravenna if he got a little too drunk, only when he wasn’t taking a lover, but Ravenna knew that was just his personality. She made sure she never confused his flirting for something more, or the way she adored him for anything more than friendship. Ravenna tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, admiring his sleeping form once more, before deciding to head in for the night. Madja would be here in an hour and he would still be sleeping by then.

She covered him gently with the blanket, and took herself back to her room. As she turned the corner, ready to collapse into bed, she collided with something black and solid. 

“Oh, my bad,” Ravenna muttered, taking a step back.

“It’s okay, I was walking too fast,” Azriel replied, hardly meeting her eyes. He paused for a moment, but still didn’t look at her when he said, “Do you think he will fly again?”

Ravenna let out a small breath. “I can’t make promises,” she said, pausing. “Mostly because I don’t know.”

The silence threatened to eat her alive.  “But you’ll be here the whole time?” Azriel looked at her finally, their brown eyes meeting. She nodded. He dipped his chin, in acknowledgement and goodbye, and then he was gone. She exhaled through her nose, considering what Azriel had said - that he was glad she would be here with Cassian - and decided it was a very high compliment. 

-

Ravenna awoke early on the fifth day that Cassian had been asleep. She’d fallen asleep early the night before, still wrapped in a bath towel on top of the comforter — too tired to tuck herself into bed. She rose, putting on the plain black ankle length dress and hooded cloak that hung neatly in the wardrobe waiting for her. Although she hadn’t come here with any clothes, the wardrobe always had what she needed. Ravenna tied the tan corset from an adjacent drawer around her waist, tied her still-damp hair into a loose low ponytail, and pulled on her boots. Remnants of the blood and gore she’d trudged through last week remained, and she waved her hand, the dirt disappearing on a draft of wind. 

She stopped in the dining room for a quick breakfast, stopping for a slice of toast and a banana. It was still dark out, the sun only just considering rising from beyond the mountains. Ravenna barely heard Azriel as he entered the room, grabbing a banana of his own from the fruit bowl on the counter. 

“I spent the night watching him,” Azriel started. “He slept well.” 

She gave him a small smile. “I’m glad. I’m hoping to wake him up today, I’m sure he’ll want to see you once that happens.” Azriel nodded once, then stalked out of the room in silence. 

Ravenna made her way to the makeshift infirmary, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind her. She did her assessments, surveying the wounds, listening to the thud of Cassian’s heart in his chest and the heave of his lungs as he slept. Although he was still a huge mass of muscle lying there, he looked fragile, which was not a word she’d ever used to describe him. When she finished with her first tasks, she began removing the dressings from Cassian’s wings, revealing the wounds beneath. They had all healed considerably since Ravenna had first laid eyes on them, she noted as she cleansed the wound beds. She paused, laying a magical hand over them in the hopes of further healing, then began to redress them. 

When she was finished with Cassian’s wound care, Ravenna made for the head of his bed. He looked so peaceful, resting with his eyes shut gently. She almost didn’t want to disturb him at all, let him sleep for another day. She puttered for a few minutes, and then returned, pressing a hand to his forehead once again. The healer closed her eyes, reaching again for that tether to his consciousness in her mind. She tugged at the line when she saw it, pulling Cassian to the surface.

-

Epiphany Masterlist

[pandxrastars]

Hi can I request a Lo’ak imagine where the female reader is asleep on his chest but wakes up from a nightmare and eventually gets up to go sit outside with her feet in the water and Jake realises that she is not next to him anymore and goes to find her and comfort her. He eventually gets her to come back inside and helps her fall asleep by cupping her face and rubbing her cheeks and letting her lie completely on top of him and knows that his voice brings her comfort so he keeps talking before rubbing his hand down her back and keeping one on her hair?Thanks 😊

Nightmare

Summary: Lo’ak notices you missing and goes to comfort you after a nightmare leaves you shaken up

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!! i’m looking forward to all of the stories i continue to write :)

Setting: Metkayina islands

characters: Lo’ak X Metkayina or Na’vi reader (up to you!)

You awoke with a jump and a gasp.

you sat up from lo’aks chest and clutched at your thumping chest to make sure your even real.

You were sweaty all over and breathing heavily.

You had a nightmare. again.

“oh ma’eywa”

you said sighing and rubbing the sweat from your forehead. you turned to your right to see your worn out mate. He was so beautiful when he slept. breath flowing from his slightly parted lips gently. two bead decorated braids draping over his cheek. you watched as his body rose and fell from each breath like a wave coming and going. it soothed you a bit. you were still in sort of a state of shock, and you were very tense so you decided to quietly walk to the beach to clear your mind. you walked towards the ocean, looking up and admiring the twinkling stars and the blue and purple gradient in the sky. you didn’t want to get fully wet so you only went ankle deep. immediate relief washed over you. the ocean always made you feel tranquil

[back at you and lo’aks shared marui pod]

lo’ak gently flickered his heavy eyelids open. something felt off to him. He reached his arm behind him without turning his body, feeling for your presence. but he felt nothing but a cold empty spot. he quickly shot up fully looked beside him. you weren’t there. this wasn’t like you to just up and leave at this time of night. he usually woke up at this time because it’s become a routine to comfort you after you’ve had a nightmare in the middle of the night. but usually you’d wake him up, not just leave. Lo’ak got up from the bed to check outside, he knew that’s the one spot you’d most likely be. he walked along the beach until he saw your figure standing in the water, you were crying. he inched towards you and put his hand on your shoulder

“y/n”

he said gently as to not scare you, but that didn’t keep you from slightly jumping and letting out a gasp

“lo’ak!”

you said clutching your bare chest almost out of breath.

“what is wrong love”

he said in an endearing yet worrisome tone. you brought your head into his chest and leaned into him making him put his hands down your back to balance you. he rubbed it gently, waiting for a response, he didn’t care how long he had to wait. he was patient with you.

“i had a nightmare, you got hurt. really bad. it felt too real lo’ak”

you said, your voice getting high pitched holding back tears as you finished the sentence

“shhh shh”

he tightened his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours

“it was not real. i am okay it was just a dream ma’yawne”

he said soothingly. you started to feel heavy-eyed and lo’ak could see it in your body language that you were getting tired.

“let’s go inside”

he said leaning back and kissing your forehead. you didn’t say anything, too tired to speak so you just nodded slowly. he picked you up bridal style and carried you back to your Marui pod.

As you lay in bed, back on his chest, he told you stories of his childhood to help you sleep. He gently cupped your face and rubbed both of his thumbs over your cheeks back and forth, you started to feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second as he spoke his soft words. He rested one hand in your long hair and the other rubbed your back to sooth you more. You eventually surrendered to the exhaustion and fell into a somnolent sleep.

“goodnight my love”

he said leaning down to give your face kisses and he then fell asleep along with you.

[r4zberrygirl]

Checkmate, I couldn’t lose

akaashi keiji x gn reader, collegeAU, fluff, 1k

cw: suggestive but like barely

an: my first actual post for this blog! sorry if this is bad lol no pronouns and no physical description of reader :) -raz

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Mastermind

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

Midterm exams were right on top of you at this point and the only cafe within comfortable walking distance, that also happened to have the best mocha lattes you’ve ever tasted, just closed for remodeling. You sank further into your chair inside the cramped library on the corner and holding your bitter homemade coffee, decided your week could not get any worse. Sighing and leaning over your laptop you glance upwards and your heart stops. You try to avoid your staring being too obvious but the stranger standing in front of a shelf labeled ‘classics', seemed to be the most breathtaking person on earth. He looked tired and held a coffee, but his black curly hair and jade eyes made you stare for probably longer than you should’ve. Breaking out of your stupor, you determine that if there's one thing you can do to make your week of midterms less shitty, it's getting this hot guy’s number. You stand from your chair and pretend to look through the shelves at his back, even tilting your head and running your finger along the spines to really sell the act. You take a silent breath, a measured step back, and bump into him. He turns to steady you in surprise. “Are you alright?” he asks, pushing his glasses up and looking into your eyes with concern.

“Yes I'm so sorry! I was just looking for Shakespeare’s work!” The lie rolls off your tongue like you had been planning it, which of course, you had.

“I think his works are right here actually. What are you looking for?” 

“Hamlet.” Luckily your lie from earlier was mostly based in truth as you really were struggling in your literature course right now. “I wasn’t paying good enough attention in class and now I’m stuck trying to study for this midterm,” you said, sounding slightly guilty. 

His eyes glow a little as he speaks, “Oh! I'm actually an English major. I took that class last semester. Professor Kimura, right?” 

You release a sigh of relief because your plan of getting this hot guy's number might actually benefit you in more ways than one. “Yes!” 

“I can try to help if you want. I don't have any of my stuff from that class right now, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow?” He says with a soft smile. 

You smile and put your hands together, “Yes please! That would be incredible! I’m ____ ____ by the way!”

“I’m Akaashi Keiji.” He holds out his hand and motions towards your phone. You hand it to him excitedly and he makes a contact for himself. “Text me later so we can pick a time and we’ll meet here if that works for you.” 

“That works perfectly for me,” you respond. This felt like a dream, maybe this week isn’t so cursed after all. He grabs a book off the shelf behind you and puts it in your hands, “And I think this is what you were looking for.” He turns and walks away but not before flashing you a smirk. Your gaze falls to the book in your hands and you chuckle. Hamlet.

You agree to meet tomorrow at 9 in order to start the day off strong and be productive. That night you go to sleep with a smile and wake to your alarm blaring in your ears. You sit up and rub your eyes. It's brighter than usual at this time and you reach for your phone off the nightstand. You overslept. You must’ve hit snooze on your first alarm not realizing it and now you’re gonna be late. You get dressed and brush your teeth as quickly as you can before grabbing your bag and an apple and getting out the door. You deem coffee as unnecessary, you can live without it for one day. 

Akaashi meets your gaze through the window, somehow just as gorgeous at 9am as he was at noon yesterday, and you make your way towards the table he’s picked out. “I'm so sorry I'm late! I slept through my first alarm,” you tell him frantically while getting out your laptop and sliding into the chair across from him. 

“No worries. I actually brought you a coffee anyways, so I guess it all worked out,” he tells you looking at your slightly frazzled state. 

“You didn’t need to do that, you're already helping me so much by being here, but thank you.” You mentally mark him down as a charmer. He grins at you and you begin to review his old notes together. 

“Your exam isn’t until Wednesday, right?” Akaashi questions during a break you agreed on after an hour of studying.

“Yes, thank god,” you reply to him.

“Make sure to call me after so we can see how helpful I was,” he says jokingly.

Three days, and two and a half hours of testing later, Akaashi’s phone rings and you echo through the line, “I GOT AN 88!” He congratulates you through the phone and states how this calls for a celebratory coffee, his treat. You of course are not going to turn that down and meet up with him at a shop a few blocks from campus. Upon seeing him you trample him with a hug and thank him until he has to stop you from doing so anymore. Akaashi laughs at you softly, “You’re welcome, but I'm sure you could’ve done it on your own.”

From there, your friendship with Akaashi blossomed into a relationship as the first date turned into third, which turned into fifth, which turned into inviting you to a New Years Eve party his friend was hosting, which obviously turned into your first kiss and so much more. Recently, it seems like you spend more time in his apartment than your own but there's nothing you would change about that. Waking up next to him felt sacred, you could talk about whatever you wanted and he would always keep the conversation flowing with little questions and quips about whatever you’re going on about. 

Keiji reaches across the sheets to pull you closer to him when he notices your quiet snores have stopped and you begin to stretch out your legs. Your arms naturally go up to his neck to play with his hair when he wraps his own around your waist. He smiles sweetly at you, “Good morning.”

You giggle for a second before responding, “Good morning to you too.” Your eyes travel up to meet his as you ask, “Keiji do you believe in fate?” 

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Do you?” He replies, slightly confused on why you were asking such a deep question so early in the morning. 

“Well I think it was fate that you walked into that little bookshop at the same time I was there.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was having a horrible week and I think you were sent to fix it all.” He hums and kisses the top of your head as you fall into a short silence. “You know it wasn't an accident. Back at the library I mean. I bumped into you on purpose,” you admit and your cheeks heat up a little. 

“I know,” he says and smirks down at you. You look up at him, shocked eyes and open mouthed, and he puts a deep kiss onto your lips. He knew the entire time. And he just went along with your scheme because apparently you weren't the only one whose heart stopped at the first glance of a stranger whose beauty was truly breathtaking.  

[no-shxme]

did a talsett req (YAYAYYAYAYY thanks for requesting talsett omg) as a warmup but it turned out pretty long afdkldsfj

prompt was talon introducing sett to katarina but i did kinda twist it into it's own thing, also set in a modern au. thank you for the insp!

In hindsight it’ll be funny, but for Talon that might take a couple years. Sett will laugh about it by next week, because he’s unbothered, but stuff that’s easy for him is hard for Talon. Like being the center of attention or reaching the top shelf where all the biggest bowls are. Talon’s sleeping when Katarina comes, or he’s trying to. He’s laying in bed when she shows up, half-awake and thinking about nothing but the sound of the frying pan from the kitchen. Talon had barely slept last night, and even now he’s close but not close enough. The room is too bright and everything is fuzzy, so he doesn’t pay much attention to anything except when Sett calls, “Hey—Tal—”

His tone is funny, Talon can’t tell exactly what it is. He sits up and scrubs the crust from his eyes.

Sett will describe, later, how he’d been cooking when she’d let herself into the apartment. She hadn’t knocked or rung the bell, since she has her own key. Sett’s ears barely had time to swivel before she was standing in the entryway, staring at him in his boxers.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Talon’s thought about how he’d introduce Sett, but not seriously. Maybe Sett could just be his little secret that no one else has to know about. He’s not ashamed of him, Talon’s just bad at sharing. But none of his scenarios had involved Katarina suddenly finding out on her own, so when they’re all standing in the kitchen he has no idea what to say or what to do. Sett turns off the stove and waits there awkwardly with his pan.

“Talon—” Katarina says, and points at Sett. “Who’s this?”

Talon swallows thickly. His mouth is dry. “That’s Sett,” he says.

“Hey,” Sett offers carefully, waving the spatula. “Heard about you.”

“Talon—I’m—” Katarina seems genuinely flustered. She stomps over and grabs his wrist. “Let’s have a chat.”

She drags him back to the bedroom and shuts the door and Talon watches her survey the room in dismay, noticing how there’s two phones on the nightstand, and a few extra pairs of shoes scattered on the floor. Katarina’s smart, she turns around.

“Talon. What?” 

The question isn’t specific enough so Talon says nothing.

“Are you dating him?” Katarina asks.

Talon nods. Kind of.

Kat makes an unidentifiable noise. “How long have you been dating? You never told me?”

“Almost a year,” says Talon.

“I’m gonna strangle you,” Kat says. “Talon he’s—” she raises her hand far up above Talon’s head, as if measuring his height. “How?”

Talon frowns. “What.”

“Tal.” She spins in a circle. “Garen and I, we’re like, a match.”

He stares at her.

“Like visually,” she says. “It’s—I’m not calling you ugly, Tal, but—he’s—”

Talon looks down at his feet. He wishes she’d never shown up. He’s too tired for this. “But he wants me.”

“Is he rich? Are you sure he doesn’t want your money?” Kat hisses, exasperatedly.

He pushes her away. “Stop.”

“Talon, I’m worried about you.” She sighs, exasperated. 

“You don’t even know him,” Talon snaps.

“Oh I wonder why!” Kat throws her hands up. “I decide to visit my little brother and find a complete stranger in his underwear.” 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Talon snaps, out of spite. “Why are you here?”

“It’s your adoption day tomorrow, remember?” 

Talon blinks at her. He’d completely forgotten. “Oh,” he mutters.

“Everythin’ okay?” Sett asks, on the other side of the door. 

No, Talon thinks. My sister doesn’t trust my judgment. She doesn’t understand all the care Sett’s taught him, or the ringer that Talon put him through just to let Sett keep him.

“I wanna put on a shirt,” Sett adds, and Talon can picture the way his ears must be folded back.

He wrenches open the door and steps past Sett into the hall. Katarina stares at him, and Talon knows she must be comparing them, trying to fit them together like a puzzle, even though they never matched up to begin with. Sett and him are not typical. They don’t fit the same way others do.

“Listen bucko.” Katarina pokes Sett in the middle of his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is, but if you mess with him—” 

Sett is flat against the wall, looking down at her. “Uh-huh,” he says, and his gaze flickers to Talon’s and back.

“I’ll fucking gut you,” she threatens. “You’ll wish you were never born.”

“Uh—” Sett starts. “You sure you’re not related by blood?”

She pokes him one more time for emphasis and stalks past Talon down the hall. “Be ready tomorrow, Tal. You’ve got so much explaining to do.”

Sett’s ears twitch back when the front door slams.

After another minute Talon shuffles over to lean his forehead against Sett’s chest, and Sett pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“You slept yet?” he asks.

“No,” Talon mumbles. Sett cups his cheek and kind warmth bleeds from his palm. 

“Go lay down,” he reassures. “I’ll be there after I clean up.”

Talon gladly obeys. He curls back up under the blankets, letting his brain go fuzzy again. Maybe Kat’s just mad that Sett is taller than Garen. He’ll ask tomorrow. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have to.

[summercourtship]

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter five: sanity in the honeymoon phase [part II]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content | word count: 4937 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one | previous part

You woke up the next morning, somehow with Jonathan still beside you sleeping soundly, a newfound clarity in your thoughts. Like your mind had organized all of your thoughts while you slept and in doing so created a plan.

Snatching a T-shirt off the floor, you pulled it on as you left your bed. You gently opened the door, glancing backwards to make sure you hadn’t bothered him. But before you left, you grabbed your bookbag, needing something from inside it but not wanting to rummage through it with Jonathan still asleep.

The apartment was cold, the chill morning air seeping in through the cracks between your door and the floor, from in between window panes. Throwing a glare at the apparently useless radiator in the corner, you grabbed a worn cardigan off of your couch. You slipped it over your still tired limbs before sitting at your kitchen-catch-all table, moving the empty take out bag to the other side. You’d throw it out later.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pen and notepad- the notepad, the one you’d had glued to your hand all through the Riddler’s crime spree last year. Flipping to a blank page in the notepad, you wrote at the top of the page, in all capital letters, EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT THE SCARECROW.

Skipping down a line you began scribbling some bullet points of what you knew about the criminal. It wasn’t much yet, but you were confident in your ability to find more information. For fun, of course. Targets Pharmaceuticals and chemical manufacturers- drugs? Out of public eye- motives unknown-- FIND OUT SOMEHOW?? Burlap scarecrow mask-- why?? What symbolism? Fear?

As you sat, staring at your minuscule list, trying to think of anything else that was applicable, the bedroom door opened again. Jonathan crept out, pausing when he saw you at the table. You wondered what he thought you’d be doing when he left the bed.

“What are you doing?” His voice was husky from his sleep, the lowered timbre of his voice sending a bolt of electricity over your skin. He moved closer, peering over your shoulder. You didn’t bother covering up your notepad.

“Just writing.” You slowly looked back over your shoulder at him, smiling softly before turning back to your work. “Things I need to get out of my head.”

“About the Scarecrow?” He cleared his throat quietly.

“Mmhmm.”

You didn’t know where this research- because that’s what you intended for this to become- would go. At the worst, you’d chalk it up as personal practice, a pet project. It would sit gathering dust in a folder, tucked away in a drawer like your other abandoned project.

You didn’t even allow yourself to consider what the research would be at best. It was barely an idea, anyway, dreamt up by your unconscious mind. Something to keep your mind occupied when you weren’t trying to finish your schoolwork.

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with what you were talking about last night?”

“I’m not becoming a vigilante if that’s what you’re asking me.” Cringing inwardly, you sighed. “I have no dreams about heroism, personally. You could say I’m just engaging in current events.”

Investigating. That’s the word for what you wanted to do.

“You should be careful where you stick your nose.”

An involuntary chill ran down your spine at his warning. He’s just looking out for you, you thought. But still, you shrugged the chill away, putting your pen down and slipping off the chair. You fitted yourself between Jonathan and the table where he had left just enough space for your body.

You could worry about the Scarecrow finding out about your investigation when it was more than words in a notepad. At that moment, you were more interested in Jonathan.

“And why is that?”

He was toying with a loose string on your cardigan, again throwing you that wry smile before he responded.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” You smiled back at his use of the tired cliche.

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

The kiss started gentle this time, a delicate joining of your mouths. But Jonathan soon leaned against you, his open mouth coaxing your own wider as he pressed you backwards. You threw a hand backwards, grabbing for purchase against the table and landing on your notebook. Involuntarily you clench your hand, crumbling your notes about the Scarecrow in your desperation to steady yourself against Jonathan.

Your hand traveled down his body, brushing over his slowly hardening length in his pants. He groaned against your mouth as you rubbed the heel of your hand against him, smiling into the kiss until he grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away, holding it by your side.

“If I didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d fuck you on this table, right now.” He muttered in your ear, his voice low and grinding.

“Then don’t go.”

“I have to.” With what seems to be incredible self-control, he pulls away from you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown. He was still as hungry as he had been last night.

If you were more confident in your abilities to seduce a man, even one that was two inches away from taking you on your kitchen table, you would’ve pouted. Made yourself irresistible so that he wouldn’t leave you, aroused and waited. But you still had an inkling of insecurity that kept you from pulling that trick out of the bag, so you let him step away from you with a sigh.

“When can we see-”

“I’ll be out of town this weekend, and have a pretty busy next week. But the week after is spring break so we can do something then.”

“Alright.” You did your best to hide your disappointment.

“Are you going to be okay, today?”

“I still have a class today, you know.” You sighed, thinking about the cipher assignment you still needed to complete for your intelligence history class. “I’ll be fine. I’m beginning to think I didn’t even see anything last night. Maybe I just… imagined it. I was really tired from the library so it makes sense.”

A brief moment of confusion flickered across his face before it disappeared behind his composed mask again.

“Hallucinations aren’t good, either.”

You don’t tell him that it wouldn’t be the first time that you’d seen someone who wasn’t there, that day of the mayor’s remembrance ceremony flashing in your mind. But even though you’d said you imagined seeing the Scarecrow, you didn’t actually think it. You just didn’t want Jonathan to worry about you. It had been an impulsive lie, born from guilt at seeing his face mired with concern.

“I’m all good, trust me.” You looked down at your hand, the notes crumpled on the table before slowly turning back to him. “If you don’t want me to look into the Scarecrow, I won’t.”

Again, you were lying. You fully intended on gathering as much information on the Scarecrow as you could before he was caught, essentially heading up your own personal investigation into Gotham’s newest masked weirdo.

You’re sure that he didn’t quite believe this lie either but he didn’t call you out on it. You were only lying to get him to stop worrying about you, to stop thinking that you were intending on going out and hunting the criminal down.

Of course you weren’t going to. For one, as far as you or anyone else knew, he’d just committed a few robberies and frightened a few citizens (yourself included). For another, you weren’t exactly the type of person who could survive hunting someone else down.

You would leave that to Batman.

The week leading up to spring break was busy, though not because of work or even the few midterms you had to take or essays you had to turn in.

“Just this, thanks.” You placed the new, fresh notepad on the office supply store’s counter, watching as the teenage girl working the cash register popped her gum and lazily rang it up.

You’d bought a notepad for the Riddler. It only made sense to give yourself a fresh start for the Scarecrow. Because even though your initial notetaking session had been interrupted, you had the strangest desire to figure out the Scarecrow before everyone else.

But you weren’t planning on doing anything reckless. Nothing at all like what Jonathan had said that night. It was just research, after all. You had no dreams of heroism, no desire to become a vigilante or even do anything with the information you’d find. You were just going to write down some headlines, scour Gotham social media, keep an eye out for anything weird. Nothing that required you from leaving the safety of your home.

You would be smarter, this time.

You’re sure of it.

But maybe you were just kidding yourself.

If you had gone to college in a small town with a population of 80% college students, you probably would’ve noticed the absence of people during spring break. The streets would be practically empty, the stores like ghost towns.

But in a city of Gotham’s size, three-quarters of the student body leaving for tropical destinations or to return to a safer home for the week did nothing to relieve the claustrophobic population. Crowds still swelled the streets, the constant honking and screeching of cars still reached you from stories above it all.

Not like you would have really noticed, laying on top of Jonathan’s lithe body, breathing in his scent for the third day in a row, tracing random patterns on his chest. The first few days of your spring break had been bliss, tangling your limbs with his, mixing your breaths together for hours on end.

You both had other things to be doing. Yet the idea of separating from one another was blasphemous. And, as you had quickly learned, Jonathan would not stop until he was completely satisfied, though his desire was apparently insatiable.

Eventually, you would have to free yourself from his hold, escape from his bedroom back into the real world. You had school work to do, shifts down at the store to attend. But they were so easy to forget when his mouth traced open kisses along your body, when he was able to set your body alight with a flame you hadn’t known existed inside of you.

Slowly, you sat up, running a hand over your hair. You could feel Jonathan’s eyes on you but he made no moves, simply content to watch you.

Pulling the comforter back, you placed your feet on the cool floor, not bothering to grab a blanket as you left the bedroom. Jonathan didn’t follow or call after you.

You grabbed your work bag- which was what you had intended on working on when you’d come over to his apartment three days ago but had been quickly distracted by Jonathan’s fingers and tongue. And you had stayed distracted, too enraptured by his attention to focus on anything else.

Instead of sitting at his table to get your work done, you walked back into the bedroom and settled on the bed with your papers. You could feel him watching you as you pulled out the first paper and a red pen, beginning to grade.

You remained like that for a few minutes before you heard him moving around behind you. He pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck, and you could sense the smile he pressed against your skin, the curve of his lips stinging until he pulled away. He rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at the work you were doing. The work he could, technically, be helping you with.

“I am trying-” You threw a glance back at him, unable to stop the smile that crept onto your face, “to grade the assignment that you had due the class before break!”

He hummed, seemingly nonchalant, but you knew that he would be disappointed if you slacked off. Even if the reason was his own warmth beckoning to you from behind, a constant temptation to drag you away from the work you had to get done.

“I’ll take you down to Arkham tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question and it was barely a suggestion. There were no if that’s cool with you-s from him.

You put your red pen down, turning to look at him fully, your eyes roaming around his face.

“Are you sure?” It was redundant. If he was uncertain, if he was ever uncertain about anything, he wouldn’t bother telling you he was doing it. If you knew nothing else about him, it was that he was not the type to act when he was unsure.

He nodded, slow, his eyes dragging down your own face to your lips. You knew what the look on his face meant but you still put a hand on his shoulder to keep him at bay.

“I need to finish grading this.”

“It’s Tuesday, you have time.” It was a whisper against your lips, his hands moving to pull you closer to him from the waist.

“Hmm. I’m going to an asylum tomorrow, so I’m not sure if I’ll be available to work on it in the future.” But as you said it, you moved to straddle his thighs, linking your arms around his shoulders. You figured if you joked about heading down to Arkham, you’d forget to be nervous when it came down to it in the morning.

“Well, I know one of the doctors who works there. Maybe he can help you out.” Smiling at his response, you grinded down against his cock, which was quickly becoming hard from your sudden bout of attention.

You leaned backwards, grabbing your work and tossing it off of the bed, not caring when the papers scattered around his room.

“Oh, I’m sure he can.”

It was funny, you think, that the sky should decide to be bright and beautiful on the day you were visiting the darkest building of Gotham City. The waves crashed upon the rocks below as Jonathan’s car rolled through the main gates, gorgeous yet horrifying trees lining the drive to the main building. From your understanding, there were a few different buildings on Arkham's campus, including the old mansion and botanical garden. That was something the general public could come up and visit, situated far enough on the other side of the island that there was enough space to separate it from the asylum.

Staring out the window as the building slowly came into view through the trees, you fiddled with the visitor’s pass Jonathan had given you before you’d climbed in his car thirty minutes ago. Thankfully, it was labeled as RESTRICTED ACCESS, meaning he couldn’t take you into any questionable corners just for the sake of taking you there.

You should be flattered, you think. He wanted to show you his other workplace, let you see another side of his world.

But really, you were just nervous that this was going to somehow go completely wrong. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard of anything going right at the asylum, which was a dark blot on the city’s already dark canvas.

Arkham Asylum loomed over you like a giant, its gothic visage intimidating even in broad daylight. Maybe moreso, seeing that all the horrific elements of the asylum you saw in photographs weren’t due to nighttime shadows and rain. It was just what the buildings looked like, their entire presence spine-chilling. Worse when you considered who was locked up inside, perpetrators of some of Gotham’s worst crimes.

Finally, Jonathan pulled into his parking space, which was nestled behind the building.

You were torn between wanting to yank the seatbelt off of you, eager to get the visit over with, or to lock yourself inside so you didn’t have to leave the safety of the car. As you got out of the car, you looked over the roof to Jonathan.

“And you’re sure I’m allowed to just… visit? This isn’t just a trick to somehow admit me?”

Jonathan just hummed from your side, but you’re sure that your constant questions on the subject were becoming annoying. “I wouldn’t have brought you if it wasn’t allowed.” He began walking towards the door, briefly looking back at you. “And you’re not insane.”

“Thank you for the reassurance.” You responded dryly, fingers toying with the strap of your purse like someone would appear out of nowhere to snatch it from you.

You began the short walk across the wet parking lot, the smell of damp pavement and grass heavy in the air. Despite what you had expected, you heard nothing from inside the building. No screaming or shouting, no alarms or blaring announcements. It was absolutely silent, the only sound you could hear was birds chirping and waves hitting the lower rocks. And that was somehow worse than if you had heard everything that was going on inside the stone walls.

Jonathan pushed the door open, holding it aside as you stepped into the building before he followed you in, firmly closing the door behind you. It latched with finality and you took a deep breath, willing your nerves to calm down.

You were officially inside Arkham Asylum.

The entry room was small, a metal detector preceding the doorway into the next room, a guard sitting in a chair by a table with a radio that was playing a loop of guards calling in. Faintly, you could smell anti-bacterial spray underneath the overpowering scent of something sweet and floral from the air freshener on the table. A security camera was mounted in the corner, aimed directly at you. You looked at it for a moment before wrenching your vision away, allowing yourself to be escorted through the metal detector with little flourish.

“I’m not going to meet any of the inmates, right?” You whispered after grabbing your bag from the plastic box they’d put it in as you’d gone through the door.

“No.” He smiled wryly before he spoke again. “Not unless there’s a breakout just as we get in there.”

“Please don’t even joke about that.” It was a well known secret that Arkham was prone to the occasional bout of hemorrhaging its inmates but you really didn’t want to witness it first hand. It was nerve racking enough when you were in the city and got the alert on your phone, you didn’t fancy being stuck on the island while an escape was happening.

“I’ll just take you to my office, show you around the visiting areas… nothing that’s too restricted.”

“I would hope not, my visitor’s card isn’t good for that.”

“I’ve told you. People don’t say no to me.” He pushed open another door, this time leading you into a dimly lit hallway. “If I wanted to take you somewhere, I would find a way.”

Jonathan’s tour of Arkham consisted of nothing more than walking through hallways and pointing out various points of interest. The door that led to the cells, the door that led to the rec rooms, the door that led to the intensive treatment wing, the door that led to the medical wing. Oh, look, a window that overlooked the exercise yard where there were a few orange and white clad inmates shuffling around, if they were moving at all. That’s a change in scenery.

“Why did you want to bring me here, anyway?” You asked as you walked down another hall that was identical to every other one you’d been brought down. Most of the hallways were lined with dated tile, bars over any windows and cracks in the flooring. Lights were yellowed and flickering, dust and dirt gathered in the corners. His only response was a non-committal noise from the back of his throat. He was saved from further questioning when he stopped by an archway that led into a small room with an empty desk and two doors leading off of it. He brought you to one of them, a non obtrusive wooden door. His name was on the plaque that was attached to the door, followed by his credentials.

Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the door, revealing his office.

His office in Arkham was pretty similar to his office in the university, a dark wood desk sitting in between two large windows overlooking the asylum grounds and, in the distance, Gotham’s skyline.

“I have another one, in the basement. For obvious reasons, I will not be taking you down there.”

You looked at him from where you’d been observing a framed painting on the opposite side of the room from him.

“Why do you need two offices?”

“It’s a large asylum. Sometimes it's easier to keep patient’s records closer to where they’re kept in the building than here. And this office is better for visitors. The other one doesn’t have windows, which makes it well suited for sessions with the inmates.”

“Why-” But he quickly moved on, not letting you ask what he meant by his comment. From what you’d heard, direct sunlight was good for those struggling with their mental health, was it not? But, then again, you weren’t the one with a doctorate. You didn’t even have your bachelor’s, what do you know?

“The windows are nice, aren’t they?” You moved across the office to look out the windows, which were covered by half opened blinds which filtered the light into small lines across the room. His office, it seemed, overlooked the river, offering a decent view of the city. You knew that he was just pointing them out because he wanted to distract you from the question you’d wanted to ask. But you indulged him anyway.

“The view is good.” You moved away from the window but instead stepped right into Jonathan, who had moved to stand directly behind you. You adjusted your position slightly, allowing yourself to lean backwards into Jonathan’s body.

Then his hands were on your hips, brushing over the modest shirt you were wearing. For a brief moment, you regret wearing it, wishing you had instead worn something else, something more revealing or tantalizing. Then you remembered that you’d picked it out in the morning, knowing you were being smart by covering yourself up for the day’s visit. It wasn’t a club. It was a hospital.

With this in mind, you stepped away from him. Don’t fuck in his office, you reminded yourself. And when you turned and saw the familiar hungry look in Jonathan’s eyes that you’d been trying to sate for the past week, you simply ignored it. You knew that if he really wanted to bend you over and take you there, he would do it. But it looked like he also knew it wasn’t smart to try anything, because he simply took a deep breath and turned, leading you outside of his office again.

But instead of continuing back into the hallway, he stopped in the small room that connected Jonathan’s and another’s office to the hall. The desk that you’d noticed earlier was the only real furnishing in the room, but there was a dead plant in the corner. Nothing much to look at.

“Here is what I really wanted you to see.”

You craned your neck around his body, trying to see what he was looking at. You certainly couldn’t see it from where you were standing. But even when you looked around him, there was nothing else in the room. You looked at him, meeting his eyes before he pointedly looked at the desk.

The empty desk that was pushed against a wall. Its surface was covered in illegible etchings and it had clearly seen better days, the metal legs splotched with rust and the wood discolored.

You stared at it for a moment before looking back up at him, not getting the joke. But he was already looking at you and your breath stuttered before you caught it again, swallowing the sudden lump of nervousness that had sprung up in your throat.

“You brought me here to look at a desk?”

“The asylum has recently decided that I needed, or deserved, a… secretary. Receptionist. Assistant. Whatever you want to call it.” He prattled off the different names for the same job. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant by telling you this but you needed him to ask you.

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Don’t be stupid.” He admonished, so quickly after you’d finished speaking that for a moment you thought you imagined it. Heat blossomed in your cheeks and you’re not sure if your reaction was entirely because you were embarrassed at being chided like a child. “You’ve proven yourself a good assistant. You hate your current job. Come work with me here.”

You pursed your lips, a litany of questions springing up in your mind at his suggestion. Some completely rational questions, like what is the pay and what exactly would my duties be, and some a bit less rational.

“Would you be my boss, then?”

“Of sorts but not quite.” He leaned against the desk, which groaned slightly from just the light amount of pressure he was putting on it. If you accepted the job, you decided, you would need a different desk than the one in front of you. “Your superior, of course.”

How many different power dynamics did Jonathan want the two of you to be arranged in? You were almost tempted to ask if he wanted to also be your psychiatrist, just to get that one off the table as well.

“Does this count as an interview?”

“This is a job offer.”

“I’d at least want to finish the semester before starting up here.”

“That’s-” He put his hand on the small of your back, leading you back into the hallway and away from his office and your potential desk, “-fine.”

He began to lead you back through the maze of hallways he had taken you down when you’d arrived, clearly signaling that the tour was over.

“Is there anything else you’re interested in seeing?”

“I don’t think so.” You smiled, wanting him to see that you appreciated him taking the effort to show you around the asylum, that you weren’t just trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. You were still confused as to why he had brought you into the asylum to offer the job instead of doing it over dinner like any normal person would.

But, you thought, if you accept the job offer, you’d be coming up here all the time. So maybe it was to get a brief feel for the asylum before you accepted or denied him?

“Not unless you can show me the records room.” You laughed to show that you were joking, that you knew that no civilian would ever be allowed anywhere near the records of Arkham. Not to protect the patients, of course, but rather to protect the asylum and any of its secrets.

If you accept the job, you might get to go down there one day…

He pushed open the doors, leading you into the next hallway. He wasn’t speaking now, obviously content to take you out of the building and back home- he’d done what he came for. But maybe, you think while trying not to linger on the thought, instead of taking you back to your place, you’d go back to his apartment and you’d spend the rest of the day under his worship.

In the hallway next to the one you were walking down, separated from yours with a half-wall and row of windows, a line of inmates were being escorted in the opposite direction.

Don’t look, your mind whispered. But like there was something else you couldn’t quite hear beckoning you, you slowly turned your head just as an inmate on the other side of the glass raised his.

A startled gasp broke away from you, your eyes now locked on the very real figure of the man who had occupied your thoughts for the past year and a half. But where you would have expected to fall into your usual symptoms of anxiety upon seeing him, you almost felt disappointed. Like you were walking past an exhibit at a museum, realizing that the thing you had built up so much in your head was really, horribly… mundane. The man you had been so afraid of, had nightmares about, was just a man. A round-faced, almost boyish looking man, hair limp and lifeless, his clear glasses cracked on the left pane. But behind the glasses, his eyes were bright and intelligent, narrowed slightly at you as he examined you much like you were observing him.

Your foot moves, stuttering against the linoleum floor briefly, like it wanted you to step closer to the glass, to get a closer look at Edward Nashton.

It wasn’t until Jonathan called your name, clearly not seeing what had happened, that you tore your eyes away from the inmate’s and practically ran down the hallway, your visitor card swinging on your neck. Your heart was racing, yes. Not because of seeing the Riddler in the flesh, but because the moment had felt… intimate and the idea of someone- Jonathan, especially- seeing it was somehow mortifying.

But if you had turned around at any point in your dash down the hallway, back to the safety that Jonathan’s proximity lent to you, you would’ve seen that he was still watching you, only turning when you were completely out of the hallway, the door swinging shut behind you.

[aller-geez]

I stumbled upon @fuckin-sick-bih ‘s snzfic prompt earlier while scrolling, and it sounded like such a great way to torture my boys 🥵🥵🥵

I started writing, and ended up with 2500 words and 10 pages because it was just SO GOOD, I couldn’t stop (‘:

Writing prompt- (not mine)

Character A is trying to do something their brain has deemed Very Important (spoiler alert it's not) but their nose won't stop itching.

They keep sniffling and having to stop over and over to sneeze or wipe their nose on their hand or sleeve.

Whatever it is they insist they're very busy and B just watches in amusement as A's frustration mounts and B's arousal grows as A hitches again. Their workflow stalling again.

Until finally B has had enough of this, maybe A is getting too frustrated or tired or is giving in, and they take away whatever they're working with for the night. Alternately they help them finish it then wrap them up in blankets, dose them with cold/allergy meds, and snuggle up for a relaxing movie and a nap.

***** SIDENOTE: I’m so sorry if I’m rusty 🥸🫥🤧

Stretching out a slim arm to the other side of their large king size bed, Levi’s fingertips searched for the warm lump that was his boyfriend that should have been sprawled out next to him, but came up with nothing.

“Nnnnh?..” the petite man groaned with sleep still heavy on his eyelids. He attempted to wave his hand over the spot again with his eyes closed, hoping the wolf had just rolled over to the furthest side to get relief from the fever he had fallen asleep with. That was Remi of course.. He would always be there to knock some heads and would protect Levi from anything that made the mistake of crossing the wolf’s path, but he was no match for the common cold.

When his hand came up empty yet again, he mustered up every bit of energy he had in him to slowly squint open one bright blue eye, his leopard abilities allowing him to adjust to the dark room he laid in almost instantly. Levi quickly scanned the room that his boyfriend and him shared every night, expecting to see Remi sitting on the dark grey loveseat that they had in the corner, maybe quietly ticking away at his game console that he was always playing when he couldn’t sleep. But again, he was met with nothing; no trace that his boyfriend had even fallen asleep with him in the first place. But, Remi definitely did fall asleep with him… right?

The leopard lay there for a second, the hello kitty blanket that he slept with held tightly to his chest, and the comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon. When he had amassed enough energy to slowly will his other eye to open also, he stretched out his arms in front of him, a silent yawn shaking him as he sat up completely now.

‘Where is he?’ Levi’s brow furrowed in thought, trying desperately to recall the few hours prior when he last remembered seeing the wolf.

Suddenly, that oh so familiar sound of the other man’s congested cough was very audible through their bedroom door that was closed tightly, which was odd since they never had their bedroom door closed. “Downstairs?” He asked now to himself, swinging his slender legs out to the side of the bed and out of the amazing warmth that their blankets had stored. The cold air of their townhouse instantly made Levi shiver a bit as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he recoiled with a groan, pulling the top blanket off of their bed to wrap around his shoulders. Content with his solution, Levi put on his fuzzy leopard print slippers that sat just barely under the lip of their bed frame with the blanket dragging slightly on the ground as he walked. With great care, the leopard turned their silver doorknob ever so slowly as to not make any noise to alert his boyfriend. With how Remi got when he got sick, he wouldn’t be able to smell the white haired man anyway. Getting the door open, Levi ducked down to squat as he shuffled silently down their small hallway until he sat perched upon the top step of the dark brown carpeted stairs, peering through the wooden railing.

‘There he is~’ Levi purred to himself, watching his boyfriend as he sat sprawled out on the couch with his massive laptop covering his lap, a mountain of old tissues on the table next to him and the rest of the half empty box on the middle seat of the couch. His bloodshot eyes that normally glowed so brightly they would reflect back at him on his screen now were dim and tired looking, dark red circles under them and they scanned the screen of whatever he was reading. His thick black hair was unusually ruffled, sticking out in every different direction as his head was leaned against the back of the couch as he sat there. Pieces had stuck to his forehead from the sweat that resides there, no matter what temperature he was. The poor guy somehow looked more pale, but still more flushed at the same time, his nose extremely red and raw from how much he was already blowing and wiping at it incessantly, and his mouth was held slightly ajar as he struggled to breathe through his thick congestion. Just as Levi was about to give himself up from his hiding spot, Remi’s face began to twist into that same familiar expression, something the leopard could spot from a mile away. The man’s arched black eyebrows began to lace together on his forehead, and his breathing started to get uneven. Shortly, a pathetic moan could be heard from the wolf’s direction, and Levi couldn’t help but stay and enjoy the show before ruining the moment.

Remi’s sharp nose began to twitch ever so slightly, his mouth slowly hanging open more than it was prior as his breath hitched. ‘Hh..’ he breathed. Desperately, the large man swiped yet another tissue from the sad box next to him, and cupped it around his nose and mouth just in time to protect everything in front of him. “Hih’IITSCH’IIEW! HaaH’TSCH! Hhhh-“ The wolf sneezed harshly into the wad of tissues pressed to his face, which was followed by a thick sniffle and a frustrated exhale, his long fingers coming up to push the raven hair from his eyes that had fallen into them before he tossed the now bloody tissue to the side to join the rest that he had collected. It only took him a second to recollect himself and return his gaze to his computer, although he clearly was distracted. “Hh-,” He hitched again, but it was just a false alarm, leaving him in the throws of the pre-sneeze face for a moment.

The sad sight in front of him broke the leopard from his hiding spot, unable to watch anymore, and softly bounced down the stairs. As his feet hit the floor of the bottom story of the townhouse, the smaller man was completely in his boyfriend’s field of view now, although the wolf seemed to be in such a fog that it took him a few moments to notice the white hair of his mate standing in front of him.

“Baby, what are you doing out here?” Levi asked softly with concern on his freckled face as he looked over his boyfriend’s condition.

Remi couldn’t hide his surprise, unaware of his boyfriends presence until he spoke up finally. His watery eyes got big, the sharp inhale he took jarring that tickle that just wouldn’t let up and he had to turn to the side quickly with his face buried into the crook of his elbow.

“H’TSCHH” the stifle that exploded from him sounded painful on his chest, but it was better than letting some of them go at this point. “Nnnng..” He exhaled slowly afterward, grabbing yet another tissue from the box and wiping his nose, wincing at the rawness around his nostrils.

“I could’t sleep.. I kept sdeezing every time i got combfortable and I did’t want to wake you up. I kdow you have that big thidg at work tomorrow..” The wolf’s words began to trail off, his eyes focused behind Levi instead of at him. His voice already almost intelligible behind how congested his nose was from the previous hours he sat downstairs by himself. “Hhihhh… god dabd it!” Remi’s frustration was intensified, one finger coming up to rub at his nose desperately trying to get rid of this damn TICKLE.

“Baby.. you don’t have to do that. You know I wouldnt be upset..” Levi cooed back to his boyfriend, leaning down to gently place a kiss on his damp forehead before frowning. “Your fever sure set in quick this time.. Why don’t you let me run you a nice shower with the eucalyptus you like? After you get out, you can take some of the NyQuil that I picked up for you the other day?” Levi sat in next to the puddle on the couch that was his boyfriend, placing a petite hand delicately on Remi’s warm knee.

“Mehhh..” The larger man grumbled, “I dod’t have the edergy for a shower.. Plus, I FIDALLY got this laptop to turnd od, add — SNF! You kdow how lodg I’ve wadted to get mby mbusic off of this stupid thidg..” Running his fingers across the dinosaur of a laptop, he couldnt help but be proud that he at least got the junk to turn on finally.

“Yeah, but—..” the leopard stood up to protest, waving his hands in front of him frantically.

“No buts, Levi.. I probise I’ll combe up to joid you whed I’m dode, okay? It wont be lodg, I swear.” Remi waved his hand slightly in the direction of their shared bedroom that Levi had emerged from, shooing him away. With a sharp snort, Levi crossed his arms in front of him, a look of disapproval written on his usual cheerful features as he stood with a blanket around his shoulders, his pajamas on, and fuzzy slippers.

“I’m not going back to bed without you, so..” Levi stuck his tongue out playfully, his blanketed body crossing the room to get comfortable again in the dark grey love seat that was tucked in the opposite corner of the room. “I’ll just sit out here with you until you’re ready to go to bed.” The smaller man smirked at his miserable boyfriend who raised an eyebrow at his attitude.

“You kdow what? Fide, hadg out with mbe out here if you wadt, but I dod’t wadt this thidg to turnd off for sombe reasod and dot ever let mbe turn it back odn after. Cause its beend years sidce this thidg cabe on..” Remi’s cheeks started to dust a light shade of pink as he got more comfortable in the couch he was in, the same distracted look already starting to subtly appear on his face. Levi who was now curled up in the loveseat simply checked the time on his phone, taking a mental note of what it was before he set it on the arm of the chair he was in.

‘4:16’ He repeated in his head, resting his elbow on the arm next to his phone and leaning a freckled cheek against it , making himself comfortable. He knew it was only a matter of time before Remi would cave. Even that stubborn wolf had his limits.

Feeling Levi’s focus on him made the man squirm a little under his laptop, small unproductive sniffles constantly coming from his side of the room as he fought the blood and snot mixture that threatened to roll down his upper lip, occasionally taking time to swipe it away with his hoodie sleeve in between clacks of the keyboard and trackpad on the laptop as he worked.

After sitting in the loveseat for almost 45 minutes, the tired leopard almost gave up completely, convinced that this was the one and only time that his plan wouldnt work, and he would be trudging upstairs alone to finish the nights sleep. But after his patience was just about to break, Levi’s sensitive ears picked up the very faint sound of the other’s breath slowing down, the breaths he was taking suddenly more shallow than they had been. As his baby blue eyes panned up from their prior spot on the carpet and fell onto the man before him, he was greeted with a pleasant image. One that he usually would hate because he hated seeing the man he loved miserable, but he honestly just wanted him to come back to bed with him! Remi’s eyelids soon began to flutter, his breath hitching again as he tried to fight the urge that he knew wouldnt be satisfied but just a couple small sneezes. Unprepared, he tried to pinch the bridge of his nose just under his bridge piercing, but it was too late, it was already growing deep within his sinuses. What used to be a manageable irritation had bloomed into something that took all of his focus to contain. “Hah..” He breathed silently, hoping the small exchange of air wouldnt tempt his sensitive nose, but he was definitely wrong.

“H’IITSCHUIEW!! Hh’TSCHU!” He sneezed twice, more quickly than he could grab a tissue or even turn his head, and after he was able to open his eyes, the first thing in his field of view was the incredible amount of tiny blood splatters across his laptop screen. The wolf groaned loudly in disgust, but Levi could only watch from his front row seat, snickering to himself as he had lived with Remi for years.. It wouldnt take long now..

Almost as soon as the wolf could wipe off his screen with another tissue, being sure to get every blood drop off of it, the tickle in his nose returned at mock speeds. “H- Oh god..” He wined, his face already twisting into another build up.

“‘Tsch!! ‘Tsch! TSCHH!” The pained stifles felt like they would cause his head to explode any moment. He rubbed his temples in slow clockwise circles with his eyes closed for a second, and Levi could barely hold himself back from simply wrapping the large man in his arms and holding him on the couch.

Biting a full lip between his teeth, the leopard looked his poor boyfriend up and down for a second before standing up and closing the distance between them, resting one of his small hands on Remi’s hot scalp. He could feel the wolf’s head start to gently bob as he prepared himself for another painful onslaught.

“HHih’AESHIEEW! hhhh-…. hHEh’TSCHHHiew! Hehh’IITSCHU!! ‘TSCHIEEW!” Remi sneezed openly, covering the screen again with a dark red mist. The black haired man’s sneezes only continued to get more desperate, and they seemed to just drain everything out of him. A tissue was quickly yanked from the box again and thrust into the poor wolf’s hands as the fire that burned in his sinuses seemed to dwindle. He blew his bright red nose with a very wet sound into another tissue, the whole thing being too soaked to use afterward and causing him to have to snag yet another.

After Remi was able to catch his breath and open his eyes for more than two seconds, he whimpered pathetically and let the tissue in his hand roll off lazily to join his Kleenex graveyard. “You kdow, mbaybe I will try that DyQuil after all..” The wolf sighed softly completely defeated in his previous endeavor. He was too wiped out to argue with Levi anymore.

“Of course, Rem. Let’s gets you into bed, okay? I’ll even rub your back~” The leopard purred softly, placing one gentle kiss on Remi’s hot cheek and helping him up off the couch finally.

REMI BELONGS TO ME, AND LEVI BELONGS TO @thekinkyleopard 🖤🖤🖤

[lyssismagical]

we'll all be here forever

tw mention for dying/death, not quite suicidal ideation or purposeful self-harm but not taking care of yourself; panic attacks, small emetophobia, lotsa fighting and swearing

(pls pls pls be so nice and gentle I haven't written anything in like 3 years and idk if this fandom is even alive anymore but I found a WIP and had the inspiration to finish it)

read on ao3

The decline began when his principal mentioned, in passing, that Peter’s applications would look bare compared to a lot of applicants with his lack of extra-curriculars. Sure, he had Academic Decathlon and a Tony Stark Internship, but otherwise, that space of his college applications was empty.

So, he took the initiative in his Senior year to join a few extra clubs to bulk up his application. He started a campaign for student class president, joined the robotics club, and got on the football team. As well as all that, he started tutoring during his lunch hours both for volunteer hours and as an addition to his applications.

He needed to get into MIT. He didn’t think he could deal with any disappointment from anybody around him. Tony’s been talking about Peter’s future at SI after graduating MIT, May’s already preparing to sell the apartment and buy herself a smaller condo when he moves out, Ben always said Peter had to go to a school that challenged him like MIT would.

He wouldn’t let them down.

So he continued to squish his schedule as tight as he possibly could. AP classes, homework, four extra-curriculars, tutoring, Spider-Man, and the internship started leaving no time for himself. Sleeping at night started getting cut shorter and shorter, and he could barely make time to talk to his friends or May.

Tony notices first because he’s always been a genius and way too observant for his own good, so when Peter slides into his seat in the lab, dragging a hand through his hair, and tossing a couple textbooks in front of him, Tony almost immediately grabs his shoulder and stops him.

“You okay, kid? You look a little rough?” Tony says, eyes already narrowed in suspicion. One hand cups Peter’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“Just been busy.” Peter looks towards his homework. English, physics, biology, spanish, chemistry, history, the academic decathlon practice he’s supposed to go over, the speech he’s supposed to have done for the next debate for student class president.

Tony frowns, making his forehead crease. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, kid. This doesn’t just look like regular high school stress.”

“High school student slash superhero is more accurate.”

His watch continues ticking, the conversation wasting all of his precious time.

He needs to get his homework done during lab time so he can squeeze in some Spider-Manning before May gets home from her shift.

“Still,” Tony says petulantly. He crosses his arms and frowns at the work. “You can’t, I don’t know, take a break from all this shit?”

If Peter takes a break, he’ll have double as much to do the next day on top of football practice after school and robotics club after that. But he can’t say that or Tony would force him to drop some of his extra-curriculars.

“Pepper would kill you if she found out you were being a bad influence on me,” Peter says, but when it doesn’t get the reaction he wanted, he frowns and shakes his head. “I’m fine, Mister Stark, just a little tired. Don’t worry, the weekend’s coming up soon.”

Tony sighs overdramatically and moves back to his lab bench.

Peter purposefully fails to mention that he’s got a football game early morning on Saturday, enough time to squish in some patrolling before he has an Academic Decathlon meet at Ned’s house all afternoon, and enough homework to last him all night. And on Sunday, he has to finish his speech for the debate, he promised May he’d pick up his slack with chores, and he’s tutoring a freshman in math all afternoon.

He fails to mention that for him, the weekend doesn’t mean relaxation or a break from the stress of the week, it just means catch-up from everything he failed to do during the week and a time to pick up his slack.

* There’s something so fundamentally wrong about being beyond exhausted and yet, when given the chance, unable to get any real rest.

Peter’s brain is always moving too fast, always caught in the To Do List’s and the ideas of failure and disappointment if he doesn’t complete every task. Everything he could’ve done that day but hadn’t, all the things he did but could’ve done better, all the things that were pushed to the backburner with all the things he had to complete.

His eyes are closed and his breaths are even, room dark around him and quiet except for the TV that plays almost silently in the background. He’s comfortable and vaguely floating, not enough to be considered asleep but nowhere near conscious either.

Math homework sits only half complete on the coffee table, his academic decathlon cue cards are mixed with his debate notes on the floor, his history textbook is left open on the opposite couch.

He should’ve done more. He should be trying harder. He should be doing better.

No matter how hard he tries, no matter how much work he puts into everything he does, it’ll never be enough.

He can’t sleep, he got a B- on his last pop quiz in chemistry, Coach Wilson shouts at him every practice for his clumsy feet and his slow pace during warmups, Tony’s been staring at him with the same worried expression every time he goes over for lab days.

Even Flash has been worried about Peter.

“You okay, Parker?” Flash had sounded at least partially concerned before quickly tacking on, “Because I get your spot on Acadeca if you’re slacking.”

But it had been weeks since Flash had been mean to Peter, he hadn’t been tripping Peter in the hallways or spitting cruel words at him in class.

If Flash is being nice to Peter, that means there’s really a problem.

May slips into the living room, meaning it’s already three am, when she leaves for her occasional morning shifts at the hospital. She lifts the quilt off the back of the couch to drape over him.

“Have a good day at work,” Peter slurs, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“Have a good day at school, honey.” She leans down and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “And thank you for helping out this weekend with chores. I’m really proud of you, you know that? And I’m really proud of you for your football game. I’ll see you tonight?”

Peter has to think for too long, scanning through his mental to do list. “Got football practice and then robotics till seven. And I said I’d walk MJ home first so I’ll only be home at nine or ten.”

“Michelle’s the opposite direction of here from school, isn’t she?”

“Mm,” Peter replies intelligently, the perfect image of a genius student planning on applying to MIT.

May kisses his forehead again. He knows she’s worried about him, he knows she wants to tell him to stop, or at least slow down, that he needs to take care of himself. But it’s not the time nor place for an argument like that. “Well, I’ll be asleep by the time you get back, but I’ll leave your dinner in the microwave. You’re too good, Peter.”

Peter barely manages to utter a goodbye and an I love you before his mouth stops working again, content to pretend to sleep for another two hours before he’s off to pick up MJ before school. She lives in a shadier part of town and she mentioned, quiet and more honest about herself than she normally is, that she gets nervous walking to school and back because of some people who have been trying to get her attention.

Without hesitation, Peter had offered to walk to and from school from now on. To keep her safe and comfortable. He is a superhero after all.

Just because that adds an extra hour and a half to his already hour-long trek to Midtown, doesn’t mean anything. He’s okay with waking up at five in the morning to get to school, and he’s okay with only making it home late after practices. If it means MJ’s safe, he’ll give up another chunk of his sleeping time for her.

MJ talks idly about academic decathlon for the majority of the long walk to school.

She keeps a hand firmly on his upper arm, as though scared he may keel over if she isn’t careful. Her eyes rarely leave his face, even if he barely offers any facial expressions let alone any words of wisdom. Easily, though, he answers every one of her decathlon practice questions from memory, proving that the sleeplessness and the stress hasn’t totally messed up his intelligence.

Or so he thinks.

He’s about to leave his history class when his teacher stops him.

She’s a nice woman who doesn’t assign a crazy amount of homework, no more than his other classes do, and she’s generally lenient with marking assignments. He wracks his head for any reason why she would stop him. He’s pretty positive he handed in his history assignment about one of the presidents at the end of the previous week, and he remembers being pretty confident in his answers to the pop quiz.

“Sit down for a second,” Miss Christie says, gesturing to the chair beside her desk. She has the decency to look sympathetic and confused when she tells him, “Your grades have dropped drastically since midterm, Peter.”

“What?” His brain’s moving a bit too slow through the sludge of his to do lists.

At midterm, he managed an eighty-eight on his test which brought his overall grade up to an eighty-five. Not his best grade, but certainly nowhere near worrying. He was just going to make sure to ace the exam, and he was sure he’d get a ninety out of the class.

“Your grade has gone from nearly a ninety down to barely passing, Peter,” Miss Christie explains, pulling open his file on the computer. “I normally wouldn’t worry too much about a sixty-five, it’s not too abnormal for lower grades in a history class for a STEM school, but this is concerning coming from a bright student like you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Miss Christie frowns, turning her monitor towards him and zooming into his grades. It shows all his assignments he’s submitted, all his grades slipping towards mid-fifties and lower. His pop quiz he only managed a thirty percent on.

“At this school, as you know, if you don’t make a sixty or higher for your final grade, you fail the class.”

Peter’s whole world feels like it’s crashing down around him.

“Now, I know how much potential you have, Peter, but I’ve taken a peek at the last assignment you submitted, and at this rate, you won’t be passing the class unless you put more effort in.”

More effort.

He doesn’t know where he has the time for more effort anywhere.

May’s going to kill him.

He might as well throw his MIT application down the drain if he fails history.

“I, uh, it’s just- Between my classes and my extra-curriculars and the internship, I just- I don’t have the time for much,” Peter admits. He’s not quite sure why he’s alright admitting his struggles to his history teacher and not to people like Tony or Ned or May, but the words fall from his tired mouth before he can stop them.

Miss Christie smiles like she understands his struggle. “I can give you another week to finish your last history project and I’ll assign an extra-credit assignment to get your grade up a little more, if that’s what you’d like. If all goes well with those two projects, future assignments, and your exam, I think you could pull off an eighty, Peter. Hope’s not lost.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her he doesn’t have time for two more big projects this week.

Football practices are longer because they have another game on Sunday, Academic Decathlon is getting harder because they have sectionals coming up, robotics club has a tournament in a few weeks so they need to put extra work into completing their robots, student class president debates are in a few days and then voting is coming up, he agreed to take on a project from the real Stark interns who need his help with their prototype, not to mention his actual homework.

“I just- Miss Christie, I need a good grade for college applications and I- My schedule is already as packed as possible, is there anyway I can get an extension-”

“I can’t start making exceptions for students, Peter. I’m already being generous by giving you more time for the first project.”

Peter swallows thickly, suddenly feeling very nauseas and dizzy. “Of course, Miss Christie. Thank you.”

He barely lets her finish giving her spiel on hard work equals good results before he races down the hallway towards the bathroom.

*

“You can’t tell May or Tony about this,” he begs, slumping against the wall, trying desperately to stop crying.

“Peter, this isn’t okay,” Ned says. His eyes are too wide and he looks shakier than Peter feels. He’s got a wad of damp paper towel and gently pats the sweat from Peter’s forehead.

MJ’s leaning against the sinks despite it being a boy’s bathroom. “Are you sick? Catch a stomach bug?”

“Panic attack.”

Apparently, that’s not the right answer because Ned cups Peter’s cheek and tips his head up, patting away his sweat and tears more insistently.

“I’m late for- for-” Peter’s vision swims as he stares at the watch, unable to comprehend the ticking hands or match it to his mental to do list.

“Tutoring. It’s lunch,” MJ supplies. She steps into the already-cramped stall and slides to the floor beside Peter. “Don’t worry, Flash is taking over for you. That kid already knows all she needs to know, though. She doesn’t really need Flash’s help.”

“We can’t hide this from May or Tony. You need help, Peter.” Ned finally gives up with the paper towel but his eyes are just as wide as he grabs Peter’s hand, hanging on to him.

Peter shrugs, eyeing MJ carefully before he lets his head fall on her shoulder. He closes his eyes, shutting himself off from further argument.

Nothing’s right.

The three friends are cramped together in a bathroom stall because Peter can’t hold himself together, because no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be enough.

He doesn’t say any of that, all the words getting clogged in his chest where all his self-loathing and pain sits. Instead, he murmurs a soft apology and lets his eyes fall shut.

Eventually, they have to drag themselves off the bathroom floor for class.

Ned rambles about how Peter should see the school nurse and go home for the rest of the day, and Peter makes up excuses about how he’s fine just a little stressed, how he’ll make sure to take the night easy and get some good rest and be back to normal by the next morning.

Even MJ tries to convince him to sit out of chemistry, even though Peter’s grade has dropped in that class too, even just to lie down in the nurse’s office for an hour.

But Peter throws on the most convincing smile he can muster and shakes his head, promising them that he’s fine.

And they trust him enough to take his word for it.

Maybe that’s a mistake.

*

May’s asleep by the time he gets home, so he grabs some money from his secret stash he’s been saving from some of the paid tutoring he’s been doing and grabs himself a few energy drinks from the bodega a block away.

And then he sets himself up at his desk with all the work he has to do laid out in front of him.

He was in for another long night.

*

It’s not like he has the option to stop.

It’s not that simple, it’s never been. Failing, at this point, would be the worst thing he’s ever done. The list of people he’d be letting down is too long, too many, he can’t do that. He can’t let down his loved ones like Tony and May, Ben, Mary and Richard, Pepper and the Avengers, his teachers, his friends, himself. He can’t do that.

Everything is resting on this.

May won’t be able to move out of the city, she’ll have to continue taking care of him when he’s unable to move, she’ll have to keep working to take care of him, she’ll have to keep worrying about him every night he goes out patrolling. He’ll continue dragging her down.

Tony and Pepper won’t be able to retire.

He’s heard them talking about that dream they have. The cabin, far away from everyone and everything, maybe a child down the line, a child of their own, not just some orphan kid they got saddled with. The garden, the lake, the pet, the baby, the ability to give up all the things tethering them down. Peter’s meant to take over SI when he graduates MIT. There’s never been an If with them. Like they couldn’t even imagine a world where Peter couldn’t do it.

Letting them down now?

He’d lose his second family. He’d lose Tony and Pepper, he’d lose his ties to the Avengers. How could he be Tony Stark’s prodigy if he couldn’t even get into MIT?

He has to work harder.

He has to do more.

He has to be better.

 He has to.

*

MJ puts a hand on his knee in English class, everything between now and then is a confusing blur, but he’s suddenly grounded.

“You’ve been shaking all class,” she says. Her eyes are wide and worried, and she doesn’t take her hand off his leg. “When was the last time you slept?”

He takes another sip from his water bottle, filled with an energy drink. It makes his knee bounce under MJ’s hand. He tries to shake away how cloudy his mind is, trying to focus on what the teacher’s droning on about.

“Hey,” MJ says, elbowing him to get his attention. “If you don’t sleep at night, you’re never going to be able to focus.”

“I slept fine,” he snaps, pushing her hand off his leg.

The teacher’s talking about Shakespeare, going over the play they were asked to read earlier on. He knows it like the back of his hand, so it doesn’t matter that he zoned out for most of class.

“Don’t be a dick when I’m just trying to help.”

He shakes his head again, one hand lifting to tug at his hair, pain clearing a little bit of the fog.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds panicked, even to his own ears. He’s been fucking everything up, everywhere he goes, but he can’t lose his friends, he can’t fuck this up.

“It’s fine, dude, just…” She looks towards the teacher, who hasn’t seemed to notice their distraction, and slides her notebook across to him. She’s drawn a few sketches of him, all of which picture him with dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up every which way, and movement lines around his legs and fingers. There are some notes on Shakespeare between the sketches and some absent thoughts in the margins.

Peter doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m worried, okay?” she says so genuine that it hurts his chest. She reaches out to touch his leg again, seeming to understand how much the small gesture helps. “I know you’re stressed about college applications, but you’re falling apart, and I don’t know how much longer I can just watch you do that to yourself.”

“I have to get into MIT.”

“You have Tony Stark willing to write you a letter of recommendation, all this other stuff, football and student council, it’s not necessary. All it’s doing is destroying you.”

Peter’s voice drops to below a whisper. “I don’t want a stupid accident to be the reason I get in.”

“Accident?”

“Spider-Man! I can’t have… It’s unfair. I’ll spend my whole life wondering if it was just a fluke.”

“How is that a fluke?”

“I wandered off on a field trip and got bit by an experiment. I should be dead. It’s a complete fluke that I am who I am.”

“It’s not a fluke that Tony’s kept you around,” she argues. Her nails are digging into his leg a little, pressing the fabric of his jeans into his skin. Her voice almost raises, but she catches herself and glances back towards the teacher before whispering, “For a genius, you’re acting really fucking stupid.”

Peter takes a shuddering breath. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“It’s not. You know it’s not. You’re killing yourself for no good reason.”

“MJ, Peter, your attention please,” the teacher says. They both apologize quickly, and MJ sends him a look that says this isn’t over.

*

MJ practically drags him by the ear to the nearest bathroom once class is let out.

“You know I’ve got super strength, right?” he says, though he doesn’t even think he could access it through his exhaustion anyway, not that he’d try. He’d let MJ drag him wherever she pleases.

MJ lets him go when they’re safely inside the single-person bathroom and leans back against the sink, staring him down.

“If you’re going to reprimand me, can we get it over with? I’ve got things to do, Em.”

“We’re waiting for Ned. He’s on his way.”

Peter rolls his eyes and huffs out a sigh. “So this isn’t a reprimand, it’s an intervention?”

“You should be grateful it’s only going to be me and Ned. I could’ve pulled some strings and had Stark and May yell at you too.”

Peter winces. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t if you stop acting like an idiot.”

There’s a knock on the door, a rhythmic sound, and MJ opens it to let Ned in. Ned’s face is flushed and his eyes are a little too wide, and anger sparks in Peter’s chest, setting off a red-hot forest fire through his body.

“Did Flash say something to you?”

Ned only gets like this, red-faced and wringing hands, when someone insults him.

“It’s fine, Peter,” Ned says quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! I’m going to kill him. What did he say?”

MJ puts a hand on his shoulder, almost like she’s ready to hold him in place, like he’ll shake out of his own skin. “Easy tiger. Getting in a fight with Flash is the last thing you need to be worrying about.”

Peter looks to Ned who already seems to have calmed down at least a little. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, dude. I’m fine. Flash is always going to be Flash. It’s really okay… What’s important is you right now. What’s going on with you? When was the last time you slept?”

“I have to get into MIT.”

MJ rolls her eyes and pulls away from him. She smells like vanilla and it makes him dizzy. “He thinks the whole Spider-Man and Tony Stark internship is an unfair advantage he shouldn’t be able to use in order to get in.”

Ned’s jaw drops open and he looks absolutely flabbergasted at the idea. “That’s insane! Do you really think that?”

“As I told MJ, I wandered on a field trip and suddenly I have things that most people could only dream of having. It’s not fair that Tony Stark can write me a letter because I wandered on a field trip. I can’t use Spider-Man like I’m better than everyone else because I wandered on a field trip. It’s not fair.”

“Just because it was an accident that it happened doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve the benefits that come from it,” Ned says. “You could’ve gotten those powers and done nothing. Nobody is making you use your abilities for good. You save people’s lives, you do everything you can to keep Queens and Midtown safe. You spend hours everyday getting knives or worse pointed at you to keep those people safe. And it’s just some fluke? I don’t think so.”

Peter shakes his head, shutting his eyes when he feels tears burn at them. “It’s not that simple. I’m Spider-Man, but Spider-Man isn’t me. Spider-Man isn’t some poor kid from Queens who has one and a half friends and can’t keep his grade up in History. Spider-Man isn’t some teenager who dumpster dives and reads graphic novels. Spider-Man isn’t Peter Parker. And because Spider-Man isn’t Peter Parker, anything that Spider-Man has can’t be mine. The acclaim, the ties to the Avengers, the internship, those all belong to Spider-Man, not me.”

Neither of them seem to have an answer for him.

Ned’s looking at him like Peter’s a stranger, confused and uncertain.

MJ’s looking at him like she finally realizes he can’t be helped. He’s too far down to be fixed by a simple pep talk in the bathroom.

“It’s not fair for me to use Spider-Man or Mister Stark as leverage for university. So, in order to get in, I have to beef up my application. I need extra curriculars, good grades, AP classes, I need this stuff in order to get into MIT. I can’t stop.”

Ned shakes his head. His eyes are misty and his face is still red. “Sure, okay, but if you stack up your day to be full of extra curriculars and homework, you have to drop Spider-Man patrols and internship nights and tutoring for the money, you can’t do everything.”

“I have to do everything. I’m still Spider-Man, even if Spider-Man isn’t me. I have a responsibility to this city, to try as hard as I can to keep people safe. And I have a responsibility to Mister Stark to be a protegee, to be his heir, so that he can finally retire, both from Stark Industries and from Iron Man. I have a responsibility to May to make her proud. I have a responsibility to my parents, to Ben, to do something great like MIT. I have a responsibility to May to get scholarships so I don’t rely on her for money she doesn’t have. I… I don’t have a choice. I can’t just give up.”

“You’re going to kill yourself!” MJ says, voice loud, and Peter’s head pounds.

“I’m going to get in and I’m going to graduate and then I can stop. It’s only six months. I can survive six months of this.”

“At this rate, you’ll be dead in a week.” She sounds so angry, so upset with him, and god it hurts to feel like despite all the effort he’s put in, he’s still managing to let people down. “Do you have any idea what sleep deprivation does to a person? Especially someone who enjoys swinging around hundreds of feet in the sky and fighting people with guns.”

Peter looks to Ned, tries to see if maybe his best friend will understand, will, at the very least, take a different approach, but Ned just stares back, eyes wet and jaw clenched.

Peter’s breaths have gone shaky, chest aching with the lack of oxygen. “I can’t just stop, Em.”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” she grounds out. “This ends now.”

“I can’t stop,” he repeats, tears blurring his vision. He falls back against the wall, head thumping against the bricks.  “I can’t. It’ll look worse now if I was on the football team for two months before abruptly dropping out. Same for robotics or student council. Even if it’s for the betterment of my grades, it’ll still look bad on my application. I can’t stop seeing Mister Stark, he’ll know something’s up, he’ll try and convince me to stop working so hard, he’ll try and use his power to prove that I can get in even if I fail all my classes this term and that’s not fair. I can’t stop.”

MJ shakes her head. She’s made up her mind on this, and when MJ makes up her mind there’s no turning her around. “Then stop Spider-Manning. If you let yourself rest at night instead of swinging around Queens in spandex, maybe you could actually do everything else without falling apart.”

“If Spider-Man disappears, people will die. And it’ll be on me.”

“You can’t save everyone!” she shouts. Her fist hits the edge of the sink with an echoing thud. “And if you die, you won’t be able to save anyone.”

He can’t help but flinch, trying to shake his head, come up with anything, find an argument that makes sense, but he comes up blank, just failure ringing through his head.

“I can’t stop,” he repeats like it’ll make a difference.

Ned finally speaks up, “I’ll call May. I’ll tell her what you’ve been doing, how you’re failing history. How little sleep you’ve been getting. I’ll tell her.”

“And what’s she going to do,” Peter challenges. “Tie me to my bed? Force me to sleep? Take away the suit? Ground me? She’d have to invest in vibranium locks if she really wanted to keep me from going out.”

“You’re really going to fight all of us?” MJ says, disbelief and anger darkening her voice.

“I have to do this.”

“Well, I’m not going to stand by and watch.” She shakes her head at him, mouth set in a deep frown, and then she walks out of the bathroom and his life.

He looks at Ned, silently pleading for him to understand, and Ned stares back with wet eyes for a moment before turning away as well.

He’s left alone in that bathroom, ears ringing and head spinning and tears sliding down his cheeks, clinging to his jaw, lungs aching.

*

Is it possible to do this without his two best friends at his side? He isn’t sure but he’s convinced himself that there’s no going back now. The only way he’ll get them back is if he stops, and that’s not an option.

So it’ll just be him against the world. He can handle that. He has before.

It’ll all be worth it when he gets that shiny acceptance letter.

*

“Kid.”

Tony says it in a way that Peter instantly knows what’s happening. He’s sitting at the dining room table when Peter gets to the tower for Lab Night, hands crossed on the table, shoulders tight, mouth set in a firm line.

“I don’t need another fucking intervention.” He doesn’t know where the anger came from, seeping through the tired cracks. He’s pretty sure he’s never sworn at Tony before. He’s not surprised that MJ and Ned ratted on him, he knew they would after their fight in the bathroom, he just hoped Tony wouldn’t make a big deal of it.

Tony shakes his head, gesturing towards the pulled-out chair beside him, Peter doesn’t move from the hallway, just drops his backpack on the floor. “Kid.”

“If you’re going to lecture me, I’m going to pass. I have shit to do.” He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. There’s no filter left. All that’s left is hardened sharp edges and dark rings beneath his eyes and the ghost of who he was shaking its head at him.

“Peter-” Tony never calls him that, so Peter knows it’s serious. “-Please just come sit and we can talk about this. It’s not a lecture or- or an intervention, I just… I’m worried.”

He crosses his arms tight, curling into himself a little. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, kid, and I’m sorry I let it slide for too long, I should’ve said something sooner, but I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“I’m fine,” Peter grounds out again. “And I have shit to do.”

Tony stands slowly, hands open and fingers spread like Peter’s a feral animal. “You’re working yourself to the bone. You’re going to get hurt.”

Peter stays quiet, staring Tony down. The older hero takes a step closer and Peter steps back, keeping space between them.

“I’ve looked at Karen’s reports, kid-”

“You’re still spying on me?”

“I’m checking in.”

“I should’ve disabled those stupid protocols months ago.”

Tony doesn’t meet Peter’s fire with fire, though, he just looks… aged. He looks more exhausted than Peter feels, wrinkles set deeper than Peter remembers, streaks of grey in his hair standing out in the moonlight. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m fine, okay? I haven’t been to medical in weeks.”

“You’ve been averaging two hours of sleep a night. Do you know what that’ll do to your reflexes? Your fighting abilities?”

“How many fucking times do I have to say I’m fine?” Peter’s voice has raised a little, not much but it still feels like it echoes off the walls of the dark hallway, it rattles inside his head.

Tony sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re working too hard. You’re not sleeping, you’re drinking an obscene amount of caffeine, you’re not eating enough, you’re stressed, you’re lashing out. You know who you sound like?”

“Exactly. Who are you to judge?”

“I’ve learned from those mistakes, Pete. And I don’t want you to make them too. You’re going to get yourself killed patrolling or have a caffeine overdose or hurt yourself in the lab or burn bridges or turn to something worse than caffeine to get you through the day.”

“I’m not you!” Peter snaps. He can feel tears in his throat, voice threatening to break, hands shaking so he curls them into fists and stuffs them in his pockets. “I’m fine, okay? I can handle it.”

Tony shakes his head again, people have been doing that a lot lately when they talk to him. “I spoke to your principal, Peter.”

He flinches, taking another step back into the dark hallway. His breaths are coming too quick and a headache is beginning to form behind his eyes and Tony’s eyes are following him, tracking every movement that cements his points, and he looks so fucking sympathetic, so hurt.

“I’m going to fix it, okay? I have a few more days to perfect that history assignment and I’ll get the grade up by finals. It’s going to be fine. I can fix it.”

“It’s not just history, Peter.” Tony keeps saying his name and Peter hates how it’s grounding him to the conversation, stopping his swirling to-do lists in their place to hear Tony’s words. “It’s history and it’s chemistry and it’s calculus and it’s gym and your football coach says-”

“I can fix it!” Peter pleads, voice trembling. “I just need to try harder, I just need to put more effort in, I just- I just need to do more.”

Peter’s starting to feel claustrophobic in the hallway, images of Toomes and dust and darkness seeping into his eyesight.

“There’s nothing more you can give,” Tony says, gentle despite tearing down Peter’s world with just his words. “There’s not enough time in the world.”

“Fuck you,” Peter spits, he takes another step back. He points a shaking finger at Tony. “Fuck you. And fuck Ned for telling you. And fuck Coach for thinking I’m not good enough. And fuck MJ for switching me to an alternate. And fuck Miss Christie for not giving me a chance. And- and fuck Oscorp for making that fucking spider and putting these responsibilities on me. And fuck for parents for putting this pressure on me. And- And-”

“Kid.” And he sounds so genuine and pained and soft. And Peter fucking hates him.

“This, all of this, is your fucking fault. Yours, and May’s, and my parents, and Pepper’s, and Ben’s, and Ned’s. It’s on you.”

Tony, for his credit, just sighs softly and nods. “I know what it’s like to be under that kind of pressure. To have people make it seem like their future for you is the only one that matters, that you have these insane expectations to live up to and what you do will never be enough. But, kid, we’re all proud of you already. You don’t have to go to MIT for us to be proud. I can’t speak for your parents or for your uncle, but me and May and Pepper, we’d be proud if you went to community college. Hell, we’d be proud if you didn’t go to college at all. You don’t need MIT to have our approval, Peter. And we certainly don’t want you to kill yourself trying to get there.”

Peter shakes his head, tears beginning to curl down his cheeks, no doubt bright red already. “What about your future? I’ve heard you talk about it. You and Pepper and that- a kid, a kid who’s actually yours, retiring, giving up Iron Man and Stark Industries. You can’t do that if I go to a fucking community college.”

“We’ll figure it out. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” he shouts, unable to stop himself, voice wavering. He clenches his teeth so hard that his head starts to pound. “I can’t let everyone down.”

“And I’m not going to lose you, Peter.”

“I can do it!”

“Kid.” He sounds so pained, strained, desperate. “You’re going to go out patrolling on zero sleep, hopped up on too much caffeine, and you’re not going to be able to dodge that bullet. I’m going to get the red alert that you’re hurt and I’m going to be the one to find you bleeding out in some shoddy alley. And I’m not going to be able to save you. I’m going to have to hold you as you die. I’m going to have to show up at May’s door at an unforgivable hour and give her the news. Is that really what you want?”

There are images of that night in his peripherals. The black of the gun, the grey of Ben’s jacket, the red on the pavement, the gold of the police officer’s badge, the red on his hands, the brown of the apartment complex, the red on his jeans, the green of their apartment door, the brown of May’s hair, the red of her eyes, the red on his sweater, the red on his shoes.

“It’s not going to happen.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“I can do it!” He’s crying, choked back sobs making his whole body tremble. “Why doesn’t anybody think I can do it? I have to- I can’t stop-”

Tony shakes his head again and again. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Peter.”

Peter doesn’t have the energy to stand anymore, pressing his back into the wall and sliding down it, knees pulling up to his chest. He curls into himself, as tight as he can, suddenly sobbing loudly into his knees.

“I can’t let everybody down. I can’t stop. I can’t give up,” he chokes out, pushing his hands into his hair and tugging until pain clouds his vision as much as his tears.

“I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, kid,” Tony says. “But I promised myself I wouldn’t let you become me. I swore after-” His voice breaks, guilt rushing into it. “After Toomes, that I wouldn’t make another mistake with you. So I can’t, I can’t let you do this.”

And Peter, he feels so small, so broken, so lost. “Are you going to take the suit?”

“If that’s what it takes to stop you from patrolling on no sleep, then yes, I have to.”

He bites his lip to stop the noise of despair from escaping him, metallic blood filling his mouth. He grabs his backpack from where he left it when all this started and throws it at Tony, too much superstrength behind his throw when it hits Tony in the chest with a solid noise.

“I wouldn’t have to if you dropped those extra-curriculars, Peter, or let me help with homework, or stopped tutoring or something. If I thought you could still be safe out there.” And he does sound genuinely guilty.

“Leave me alone.” He means to say it angrily, means to shout it from deep in his lungs, means to make it hurt, means to throw it like a dagger, but it just comes out small, weak, childish.

“Kid-”

“Please,” he says, looking up from his knees to meet Tony’s empathy with red eyes and wet eyelashes and a hoarse voice, to meet him with emptiness. “Leave me alone.”

Tony swallows loud enough for Peter to hear even through the rushing in his ears and then nods slowly. “Okay, kid. You know where to find me. And just so you know, I’m not doing this to be malicious. Everything I do is for you.”

“Go away.”

And he’s left alone. MJ, Ned, and now Tony. Gone.

He cries until he has nothing left to give. And then he curls up on the hardwood floor and cries some more.

*

When he wakes, there’s a blanket covering his body and a pillow underneath his head in the hallway, and a glass of water sits nearby. His head throbs something wicked and his back aches, but it’s probably the most sleep he’s gotten all week.

He drinks some water and then slowly rises to his feet, joints cracking at every move. He keeps the blanket tucked around his shoulders, hanging off him like a cape, and shuffles towards the kitchen.

See, he knows he’s in the wrong. He’s known since before MJ confronted him that what he was doing to himself was fucked up. He knows that this isn’t good or healthy or right, that he’s pushing everyone away like he wants to be killed and forgotten. He knows that Tony had every right to be pissed after yesterday. He knows that he hurt his friends and his family. He just doesn’t know how to stop anymore, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and he feels small, he wants his mom to run her fingers through his hair and tell him everything will be okay.

Instead, he puts on a pot of coffee.

He makes two cups, too much sugar in one and just a little milk in the other, and takes them down to the lab.

He hesitates just outside the glass doors. He knows Tony didn’t sleep last night. He knows Tony has every right to hate him. He knows Tony probably broke down the second he left Peter alone. He knows Tony probably had footage of him sleeping open all night. And Peter doesn’t know if he can fix this.

Tony looks up like he knows Peter’s there. His eyes are red-rimmed, a little wild from caffeine consumption, and his hair sticks up in every direction like he ran his hand through it a hundred times.

Peter walks into the lab cautiously, slowly, like he’s the one approaching a feral animal this time. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all, he just sets the coffee down in front of Tony and then backs off a few feet.

They stare at each other for a few moments.

“Hey, kid,” Tony finally says, looking like he might cry at any moment, Peter feels the same, on the edge of a precipice.

Peter’s hands are shaking so badly that his coffee is spilling. He sets it down on the lab bench, knowing it’ll make a ring and guilt rising just a little higher.

“Hi,” he squeaks, swallowing again and again. He doesn’t let himself clench his hands into fists, just lets them shake.

Tony takes a long sip of coffee, Peter watches every movement he makes like he’s scared Tony will lash out at him, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and it could happen at any second.

“Kid,” Tony says again. But he doesn’t follow it up with any words of wisdom.

The apologies ball up in his throat, getting stuck, and his breathing starts to struggle around them.

Tony’s expression softens, shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s okay.”

And Peter’s the one to start shaking his head fervently now. “It’s not okay.”

“It’s okay,” Tony repeats gently, always so gentle like Peter’s made of fucking glass. “It’s going to be okay, kid.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Peter feels panicked, trapped, scared. He feels like he’s dying. Like the past weeks of pushing himself beyond what he’s capable of have finally caught up to him. All the caffeine, the sleepless nights, the stress, the fights, the anger, the nightmares, the headaches, the visions, the pressure, it all just caves in at once.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“I don’t want to die,” Peter chokes out. Because Tony was right, if he continued like this, he was going to die before he was able to make it to MIT, no ifs ands or buts. He would die. Even without the suit, he would die.

And he didn’t think it would bother him so much, the idea of dying, but with the work he’s put towards his future, is also the dreams of what could be. That future he’s planned for himself could be so exciting, so fulfilling, if he made it there.

“It’s going to be okay, bud. We’re going to figure it out.”

Peter doesn’t cry, he doesn’t think he has a single tear left in him, but his shoulders wrack with pain regardless. He reaches out for Tony with what strength he has when the whole world is caving in on him. And Tony moves quickly, standing and coming around the bench, wrapping Peter up in his arms, taking the weight of the world off his shoulders, burdening some of the pressure with him.

“I can’t give up,” Peter says, words muffled in Tony’s sweater.

“You don’t have to give up, buddy, but we have to make some changes.”

“I need MIT. I need Boston. I need scholarships. I need the grades and the extra-curriculars and the money, I need Spider-Man. How- How?”

Tony holds him up when his knees threaten to give out, cradles the back of his neck, a good pressure that alleviates a little bit of the pressure behind his eyes. “MJ told me how you feel. That what Spider-Man has doesn’t belong to you. That I, what we have, belongs to Spider-Man and not you, but you’re my kid, Peter Parker is, not Spider-Man.”

“We wouldn’t have met without the spider. We wouldn’t know each other. I wouldn’t have this internship, I wouldn’t have a spot in your life. Even if you like me for me and not my alter-ego, it still is because of him.”

“Even so, I wouldn’t have kept you around if I didn’t like you, kiddo. I wouldn’t have offered an internship, I wouldn’t have bought back this tower to stay nearby, I wouldn’t have wine nights with your aunt, I wouldn’t have movie nights with you, I wouldn’t go to your decathlon meets, I wouldn’t be handing over my company, I wouldn’t be planning out a room for you in my cabin, if it weren’t for you.”

“You are?”

“You’re my kid, Peter.”

“So it wouldn’t be wrong for me to use the internship on my application,” Peter says quietly, less of a question. “It wouldn’t be wrong for you to write me a letter of recommendation.”

“I have one written already. Had it written since you were fifteen.”

Peter breathes in the smell of metal and day-old cologne and coffee, and finally feels like his lungs accept the oxygen for the first time in what feels like forever. Tony will make it all okay.

*

“Hey… I’m sorry for what happened the other day,” he says, listening to the tinny sound of silence as he leaves a message on MJ’s phone. “I really am. I know you were just trying to help, I was just too far gone to accept it. I’m- I’m going to stop, relax, slow down. You were right, of course you were. I don’t know a time when you weren’t right. I’m dropping football and robotics and tutoring. I can’t do it all and Spider-Man. I’m taking a couple days off, a ‘mental health long weekend’ Tony’s calling it. If you… Maybe you’d think about coming by? I know you have no reason to forgive me, but- I just- I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. And thank you. Thank you for trying to help me, thank you for being a friend, thank you for putting up with me these past months, thank you for telling Mister Stark, thank you for everything. Alright, well… bye, MJ.”

*

May comes by that night. She cries when Tony tells her how bad it got, how little sleep Peter was getting, how much he was pushing himself. She cries and gathers Peter up in her arms like he’s still five-years-old.

“Peter, baby,” she says into his hair. And that’s all it takes for him to cry too. And she keeps saying it, “Peter, baby, I should’ve known, I should’ve seen it. I’ve been working too much and I…”

“I just wanted to make Ben proud,” he cries into her scrubs.

“Ben would be so proud of you, baby, so goddamn proud. You don’t need to do anything more than be you for him to be proud. I’m so sorry we ever made you think otherwise. He loved you so much and he just saw so much potential in you, we all do, that’s why- We never wanted to put you under so much pressure, just wanted to make sure you knew you could do anything you set your mind to.”

*

MJ and Ned come by. They exchange their apologies, even MJ says she’s sorry for being so angry that day.

They spend the day playing video games and talking and eating.

Peter feels like the balance has been restored in the universe.

*

When he finally applies to MIT as well as plenty of back-up schools, he doesn’t freak out. He thinks that it’ll be okay, whatever happens. If he has to do a lap year, so be it, if he goes to a college in Boston or New York for a year before reapplying, it’ll be okay.

His grades have steadily increased since The Intervention, and his caffeine intake has steadily declined. He hangs out with his friends more regularly, spends time with May, has relaxed nights with Tony instead of cramming them full of studying. He gets back his spot on the Academic Decathlon team and splits his responsibilities as student class president with his vice president.

Tony pats him on the shoulder and presses a kiss to his forehead when he hits the final submit button on his final application. He murmurs a quiet admission of pride into Peter’s hair.

Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.

*

MJ gets early acceptance to Harvard. Peter’s never seen her smile that wide before.

*

Ned gets accepted to MIT a few weeks later. He brings the letter to Peter’s apartment and says that they should wait until Peter gets his, but Peter shakes his head and tells him to open it now. Ned’s hands shake badly as he opens the letter. There’s a long moment of silence as Ned reads and Peter waits.

And then, “I got accepted.”

Ned doesn’t sound as happy as he should, sounds nervous even as he looks up at Peter.

“Dude!” Peter exclaims, jumping up from his seat. He grabs the letter from Ned’s hands and reads the congratulations. He throws his arms around Ned. “Holy shit!”

Ned hugs him tight but when they pull away, he still looks small. “You’re not… upset? I mean, if you don’t get it, I can wait to start, defer until next year-”

“Are you kidding?” Peter says, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “I’m so proud of you, dude. I’m so excited for you. You deserve it, man.”

And Ned finally smiles. “I can’t believe it.”

Peter pulls him into another hug.

*

Peter doesn’t hear anything for weeks.

There are a few nights where his anxiety gets the best of him. Sometimes, he heads over to Tony’s lab, knowing he’ll be up even at the odd hours. Sometimes, he swings over to MJ’s, lands on her fire escape and taps on her window. She’s always there to soothe his worries. She doesn’t have a doubt in her mind that he’ll get accepted, neither does May or Tony or Ned. But, worse case scenario, it’ll all work out. Nobody’s going to be upset or mad if he doesn’t go to MIT in the fall.

*

And then he gets it.

He’s studying at the dining room table with Ned and MJ, preparing for midterms in March, when May comes home from work with the mail. And sitting among them is the letter he was waiting for.

MIT.

“You ready?” MJ asks. She puts her hand over his on the letter.

“No matter what it says, it’ll be okay,” Ned reminds him. “No matter what.”

Tears burn his eyes all of a sudden. He puts the letter down on the table, unopened, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. They have a future planned out, the three of them. An apartment in Boston, road trips together back to New York whenever they can, MJ wants to get a cat. May’s had her two-week notice letter ready on the coffee table. Tony’s already started blueprints for that cabin he’ll build. He knows he keeps saying everything will be okay if he doesn’t get in, but…

“It will be,” MJ says like she knows what he was thinking. “You can still come to Boston with us if you don’t get in. Your future doesn’t rest on what this letter says.”

Peter believes her, that it’ll be okay, but slides the letter to her, silently asking her to do the honors, he can’t do it himself.

She nods and picks it up. She gives him one last reassuring smile before opening the envelope.

“Dear Peter Parker,” MJ reads.

[flutteringfable]

screw it if spike chunsoft won’t give teruteru the better writing he deserves i will

a short drabble i wrote because i hate the way they made teruteru like actually kinda chill and nice and wholesome but kept it all contained in ftes, island mode, and before [redacted for spoilers]. i hate them for dumbing him down to “haha perv that also cooks sometimes” and making him genuinely so unlikable despite his oddly wholesome lore.

he gets to be friends with tasu they get to bond over being mama’s boys <3

content contains: platonic fluff, dangan oc (tasu), mentioned oc x canon, takes place post-prologue

this was the earliest tasu had ever gotten up. he had barely slept the night before, plagued by the paranoia from the announcement of a killing game. despite his best efforts to sleep in to make up for it, he had been awake since early that morning. tasu sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. well, he may as well head to the restaurant. he changed out of his pajamas and fixed his hair, and after a moment or two more of hesitation, he left his cottage.

no one else seemed to be up this early either, which was simultaneously comforting and anxiety-inducing for tasu. he tried to shake off his nerves as he walked as quietly as possible down the bridge between the cottages. his footsteps felt so much louder, and he found himself awkwardly almost tiptoeing until he reached the concrete path to the pool and hotel.

as he climbed the stairs to the hotel restaurant, tasu heard the faint sound of a sizzling pan from inside. initially, it startled him, but he soon relaxed as he reached the top of the stairs and saw the silhouette of teruteru working away at breakfast in the kitchen.

“morning, hanamura!” tasu chirped as he walked through the dining area. “wasn’t expecting to see you up this early.”

the chef poked his head out of the kitchen door, waving shortly to tasu before returning to his work.

“well if i wanna have breakfast ready for everyone in time for the morning announcement, i figured i should get up a little earlier to start cookin’.”

tasu stood in the doorway of the kitchen, doing his best to keep out of teruteru’s way.

“so, did you sleep any last night? the only reason i’m up so early is because i could barely sleep myself…” tasu chuckled sheepishly.

teruteru perfectly folded over an omlette as he replied, “mm, i slept alright. i was… pretty scared for a while but i think stayin’ still for so long trying to wrap my head around everythin’ tired me out.”

“that’s good to hear,” tasu replied. “hopefully the others slept alright too; owari and nidai seem like they could sleep through anything regardless, but komaeda looked pretty upset…”

after finishing the platter of omelettes, teruteru began mixing batter for pancakes. he chuckled at tasu’s mention of nagito and raised an eyebrow at him.

“oh? you and komaeda seemed to be gettin’ pretty close yesterday. you seem like the type that makes friends real easy, but the way i saw you keep looking at him while we were all at the beach felt like a little more than friendship.”

tasu stiffened. “oh… was i really that obvious…?”

teruteru had to set the bowl of batter down he laughed so hard.

“yes, suzuki,” his amused laughter turned a little warmer as he smiled at tasu. “so, i guess that means you’re into him?”

“i— um— i just—“ tasu sputtered, glancing away and wringing his hands. “…yeah.”

teruteru poured a few small circles of the batter onto a pan. “no shame in that. have you told him yet?”

“of course not,” tasu replied, sighing. “we just met, i don’t wanna be a weirdo about it. plus, the circumstances aren’t really ideal at the moment, even if i was going to tell him.”

“that’s alright.” teruteru flipped one of the pancakes. “i can see where you’re comin’ from. sometimes love at first sight can fizzle out as fast as it happens; my mama always told me that. but, if you really do think you love him that much, maybe you should take a chance. you don’t have to confess as soon as he walks in for breakfast, but whenever you feel ready, i think you should.”

tasu smiled, leaning on the doorframe. “…thanks, hanamura. the last thing i thought i’d be doing today was spilling my troubles to you, but here i am.”

“i like having someone to talk to while i cook,” teruteru replied, putting the finished pancakes on a plate before pouring two more into the pan. “reminds me of home.”

tasu cocked his head, humming. “what was your life like before… all of this? i kinda miss the more mundane stuff now that we’re… here.”

“my mama and i ran a restaurant together,” teruteru replied. “she was the strongest woman i’ve ever known… she got real sick before i left for hope’s peak. i hope she’s doing alright without me.”

tasu frowned sympathetically. “i hope she’s doing okay, too. she sounds wonderful; i’d love to meet her one day. my mom likes to cook, too, but she also works out with my dad. she’s taught me some stuff, but not nearly as much as you know, hanamura.”

“we should trade recipes sometime,” teruteru smiled.

“mhm,” tasu agreed. “we totally should.”

the two fell into comfortable silence as teruteru finished up breakfast.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Back Traces

“Maru?” Mateo guessed as Elena traced a circle on his back, feeling the graze of her nails through the thin material of his robe. 

“No, I’m just drawing circles,” Elena answered lazily. Mateo turned his head to see her completely vertical on her side of the bed. Her hair splayed out in waves while her eyes drooped slightly as if she couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

They had had a busy week. Elena was having an Everrealm tour, which of course, the whole family went along. They had already visited seven kingdoms in the past five days. Resulting in time for having a lovely breakfast and beach promenade in Nueva Vista for Mrazel’s coronation before running to the docks to sail to Cariza. 

A meal, an hour of sightseeing unless it was consumed by kingdom entertainment or meeting the hosting royal had in store for them to experience, before rushing off to the dock or carriage so they could make the next meal in time. 

Normally, the tour would be much more spread out but Elena had been insistent on getting things done efficiently and quickly and that she was not interested in the long formalities that kingdoms would try to impose if she spread out her royal tour for three weeks. 

Mateo suspected an ulterior motive in Elena’s decision since their last stop was in Satu just in time to celebrate the Cherry Blossom Festival, one of the most beautiful and romantic festival in the Everrealm. 

It was a whirlwind experience and even without a lift of his tamborita, he could feel the magic and the beauty of the place in his bones. It felt like time had stopped and he could gaze at her forever. But they couldn’t. Although they did manage to sneak a good hour of stolen kisses before being whisked away to the next event. 

Now they were in Cordoba, one of the last kingdoms on their tour and Alonso had offered to lead everyone on a carriage ride. 

Elena and Mateo had chosen to retire for a siesta, a choice that was discreetly welcomed by their host who was still courting Princess Valentina during their visit. The couple went off on their carriage ride for two without a backward glance at them. 

But of all things, once Mateo hit the bed, he couldn’t fall asleep. His body was tired, he could barely lift his legs from the 500 thread count sheets and he didn’t want to. But his brain remained active. 

He wasn’t even thinking about anything important. Just observing the details of the room like the golden frame of the mirror, impeccably sculpted into curlicues. The velvet rug which he wondered if it was King Alonso’s choice or his father’s and how they thought they’d get stains out if that should happen? He admired the mahogany wood yet berated himself because these were all petty details that didn’t matter when he wanted to sleep!

But his eyes remained achingly open and he wondered why this was happening. 

He used ot have insomnia when he was young. Usually gripped by nightmares of his father’s arrest. Nightmares he hadn’t confided to his mother that he had seen the events at the top of the stairs. He couldn’t tell her when she was having such a difficult time herself. 

But that had disappeared after a night with ELena. Not as scandalous as her mother first thought when he accidentally let that skip, but just sleeping next to her, being there for her for her nightmares helped get his mind off his own. 

Not entirely though. He’d never escape the insomnia haunting him completely but at least siestas with Elena were his one refuge. He always slept well in the comforting warmth of Elena spooning in his arms. 

But if he couldn’t sleep now, did that mean his nights would be free? Or would his nights and siestas be similarly impeded by his overactive brain?

“Oh mi amor, can’t sleep?” Elena asked, her calming voice bringing Mateo back from the spiral that he was about to go down. 

Mate shook his head of the thoughts to concentrate on the woman beside him. With a tired smile he admitted, “Yes, I am.” 

“It’s a curse. All during the introductions and treaty negotiations, I wanted to sleep, but now I can’t either,” Elena sighed, “Want me to do back traces?” 

“Back traces?” Mateo repeated. 

“When Isa and I were younger and couldn’t sleep, we’d do back traces on each other. Ike this-turn around.” 

And would could Mateo do but obediently lay on his side as Elena did the back traces. And she was right, it was soft and it gave his mind something else to focus on, concentrating on the soothing feel of her nails as she said, “Guess what I’m writing.” 

The first word had been “Wizard.” Then his name, then little phrases like “Lleveluque” and “I love chocolate.” Which brought him here with the pleasant tingling sensation fading from his back and the sudden acute absence of her touch. 

He twisted his neck again, catching a glimpse of Elena blissfully asleep. 

Suppressing agrowing yawn himself, he flipped around so he could gather her in his arms. She unconsciously rubbed her head against him and snuggled closer. 

Finally, he gave in to sleep.