#let’s hope I can plan this out the right way before word-vomiting all over it

[a-very-fond-farewell]

ok the vibe is: I’m just a silly little guy in a dreadful little world. time to go back to my roots (*eats croutons straight from the bag*)

[yxami]

Yandere coworker!!

Desc: Yandere coworker x gn reader, general Yandere behaviors, possessive, a pinch of toxicity, jealousy, and other things. He’s pretty tame compared to others.

Coworkers, meant to keep relationships within company time and inside the workplace, but a few drinks with the boss and others wouldn’t hurt right? You tell yourself that as you get ready for it, putting on nice shoes you wouldn’t usually wear and a casual outfit for dinner.

It’ll go by fast and you won’t drink that much, at least not enough to have a hangover.

But your plan fails when one of your coworkers insists you drink more than your tolerance can handle, one shot after another before you can notice that you’re tipsy and stumbling over your own words, and seemingly nothing on the ground but you don’t pay enough mind to it.

“Here, cheers to another shot” Your pushy coworker hands you another, or at least attempts to before a veiny hand pushes the tiny glass away.

“That’s enough. Can’t you see how drunk they are?” An intimidating but familiar voice speaks, your coworker that you’ve hardly spoken to defends you. He was always a quiet one, keeping to himself, he was scary but always did what he was told by the boss. You’ve tried being nice but he seems like a shut in so you stayed inside your cubicle that happened to be right by his.

“Awh cmon, don’t be a wimp, another won’t hurt you right?” He turns his focus back on you, a wobbly smile on his face, clearly showing the intoxicated state he caused for himself.

“No, and you should stop drinking, we all have work tomorrow.” He stands up, towering over him as he denies the drink for you once again. “Let’s go, I’ll take you home” He sighs, helping you to lean on his side as much as you can with the height difference.

He might as well carry you..

“Mm’ fine, I’lll…. just order a cab home” You slur your words, trying not to cause trouble on a coworker you’ve hardly spoken to other than saying “yes, no, over there” every now and then to each other.

“I insist. It’s too late anyways and I’ve hardly drank, I just hope these idiots can manage to find their way home” He sighs, looking at the passed out coworkers and your boss somehow still preforming songs on the karaoke machine.

You stay quiet after that, observing his serious expression and cologne, it smelt nice, like a cold fall breeze before a walk. You recall the way your boss insisted for everyone to dress casual, but here he was, in a suit without worry about you vomiting all over it or in his car, buckling you in, mimicking a child with its parent.

The car drive seems rather short, at least for you, but time seemed to go a snails pace for him while he drove.

Why did he offer help? It’s not like he cares about you, but he couldn’t sit and let you get fed shot after shot, clearly that guy didn’t know his own limit. And plus, he was leaving so it was convenient to take you home, even though you weren’t on the way..

He shouldn’t have helped, what if you assumed the two of you were buddy buddy now? He hates that shit, someone clinging onto him because they believe they’ve made a breakthrough in his just because he keeps things professional.

They only care about what makes them feel special and hell, they weren’t in the slightest.

But you don’t act that way, if anything you were the complete opposite.

“Thank you for driving me home, I was definitely way too drunk to do so” You laugh slightly, thankful that he troubled himself to bring you home. It was a little embarrassing to recall how he put you to bed and made you drink water before he left.

“No problem, next time learn how to say no, it’s not hard” He casually delivers a brutally honest sentence, you can’t decipher whether if it was a kind gesture or not but continue on.

“You’re right, I haven’t grown a spine yet” You joke, smiling this time with your words. “I brought you some food I picked up before work, I hope you like baked goods, I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I got a small container of everything” You grab the cardboard box you had on your desk and hand it to him, hoping he at least wanted one.

“Oh.. thanks.” He quietly says, looking down at the small box in his hands. You nod and try to focus on your work after that, attempting to not riddle yourself with worry about how you may have given a shitty ‘thank you!’ gift.

After that, you would attempt to befriend him, as much as he would let you. You never pushed further than what he gave, you wanted to be kind so you weren’t exactly best friends but you were able to greet him unlike the others who couldn’t.

“Do you want to eat lunch together?”

“Huh?”

“Eat lunch. Together?” He repeats, turning his chair to face you, eyes now staring up at yours rather than his freshly printed paper that was warm to the touch.

“Oh yeah.. yeah! that would be nice” You say, a little surprised that he offered, let alone was willing to eat lunch with someone.

He wasn’t sure why either, but his mind has been nagging at him to interact with you. He’s been craving to see you more and he’s been doing relatively well with hiding it but he can’t comprehend why he’s feeling this way.

Feeling so helpless against these instincts that beg to see you, that want to talk to you, maybe even touch you if he ponders long enough. It’s strange, he’s never felt this way, so he’s curious enough to indulge in it. As long as it keeps his brain at peace.

After a few lunches, his needs grow more, and more, and more until all your time is spent on him. You don’t pick up on it until a coworker points out how close the two of you are now, it almost makes you forget how it used to be, weren’t you always like this with him?

“Can you come over today? I wanted to cook dinner with you again” He speaks with a muffled volume, mouth filled with too much food to speak clearly.

You nod, agreeing like always, this has become a usual thing, and you’re used to it. Even growing accustomed to sleeping over if you’re too tired to go home. Sometimes it almost seems like he purposefully makes bigger portions so you grow sleepy after your full and content.

“Good, I bought the ingredients for your favorite. Maybe we can pick up some ice cream on the way home as dessert” He smiles slightly, continuing to chew his food in silence after that.

Time passes rather quickly, at least for you, he’s a little confused on why you’re taking forever so he stops waiting at the elevator like he told you he would do, walking up to your cubicle he sees you chatting, talking with the same coworker who pushes you around.

“Awh cmon please? I’m trying to meet up with a girl tonight and if I do these papers then I’ll be late, and I can’t be late to a first date” He pleads, putting his hands together with the papers crinkling slightly between them.

“I don’t know.. I already have something planned and I can’t just cancel on them” You say hesitantly, debating whether if you should help him or not, again.

“I’m sure you can do these papers on your own, I’ve seen you do a stack in 20.” He approaches, glaring at the shared coworker, he’s always despised this guy.

“Ah- seriously, it’s an important date” He pleads again, ignoring him as if he hadn’t just spoke.

“And it’s a no, can you hear?”

“I wasn’t asking you”

“I’m not letting you throw work on another coworker just for you to have another failed date”

He scoffs, annoyed as he walks back to his cubicle, not willing to pick a fight over some papers, even though he would if it was anyone but him.

“Let’s go then? Are you done with everything?” Your friend says, mood switching with your other coworker gone. It seems like he could be intimidating one minute and be ecstatic about something the next.

You didn’t mind how he acted now, even if he was a little harsh to others and wouldn’t want you speaking to them as much as you do. It helps you out in most situations, like now and at the party.

“Yeah, let’s go..!”

You just can’t help but wonder if it’s something you should worry about.

[writing-house-of-m]

Till death do us part.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, and some Angst

Warnings: Talks of death, blood and vomiting.

Word count: 7179

Summary: It was a joint decision between you and Wanda wanting to raise your family together full time. There is just one last mission before you retire.

A/N: Who do I think I am, posting three weeks in a row 😂 This one has been a long time coming. I was given the prompt (a long time ago) “She wakes to the sound of you dying.” by @cuinaminute229 - I finally completed it mate! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think 😊

The three of you are running through the halls. You don't know how but an alarm was triggered and now you want to make it out of the building before a fight starts.

Too late.

Turning the next corner you are met with five guards all equipped to take you down.

This is not what you wanted.

The plan was so meticulously thought out, you allowed yourself to be optimistic, that this mission could be done without a hitch, but you should have known. Better to keep expectations low, right?

You can only hope they haven't found out about the support you have outside the building.

Tony, Sam, Vision and Wanda.

Two days ago

"Y/l/n, you're with Rogers and Romanoff."

You look up from the file on the table in front of you to the man holding the meeting feeling slightly perplexed.

"But sir, I'm normally partnered with Wanda because of how well we work together," you blurt out, before you can stop yourself.

"I know, but we need Wanda outside where her powers will be useful while the three of you get the job done inside," the man with the eyepatch clarifies.

You grimace slightly and it doesn't go unnoticed by Fury. So he continues, "I know you like spending time with your wife, agent, but you will have to spend a few hours away from each other this time," he finishes, getting a few chuckles from around the table.

You smile and nod your head to show you have acknowledged him. It is not your fault, you can't help but worry about your wife.

"How about Pietro? Where is he? He'd be perfect for this with his speed," you try to reason.

Fury is still smirking from his previous joke and keeps it going for his audience like this meeting is his very own stand-up comedy set, "Throwing the brother-in-law under the bus isn't going to work," causing another round of chuckles. "His skills are being used elsewhere," he finally clarifies.

Wanda notices your reluctance next to you. She takes your hand from the file to hold in her lap under the table for the rest of the meeting. The weight of her hand and the occasional squeeze she gives it brings you a semblance of calm.

After the meeting is over and everyone leaves to get prepped for the upcoming mission, Wanda speaks to you to reassure that everything will be ok. She has a soft smile on her face, "We've been apart in missions before, we'll get it done and be on our way home in no time."

Her hand still hasn't left yours since she took it earlier. You take a step forward leaning your forehead against hers while taking her other hand in yours, "I can't help but worry, it feels different this time."

You know she can take care of herself but you didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't by her side right now. This mission feels as though it has come at the worst time.

Present day

Taking out the five guards was easy work for the three of you.

Turns out they were just a warm up.

When you make it outside, you see Tony disarming someone who had a missile launcher aimed in Vision's direction. Vision throws two guys into the air that Sam finishes off as he flies past and Wanda, you can't see her, but you can see the red tendrils of her powers meaning she too, was engaged in combat.

After your quick assessment of the area the three of you spring back into action.

The base is in the middle of a forest deep underground. It's the reason the plans were so detailed, Hydra would have seen you coming from a mile away.

Hiding and manoeuvring behind and around trees you do what you are best at - taking down the enemy.

With Natasha by your side, watching each other's backs, you take down a few soldiers next to what looks like a turret. It is shooting out energy blasts to try and knock you unconscious so you can then be taken as prisoners. Once the area is clear you take over the controls using it to take out a similar one on the opposite side of the battlefield.

The machine makes it easy to take down bad guys while you do your best to avoid your teammates. For you this is just another 'day at the office' so your mind drifts to your home life.

Three months ago

Stirring awake you rub the sleep from your eyes. The warmth from your two bodies encased by your covers provide you with enough comfort to make you want to fall back into slumber.

You are about to nod off again when her soft whisper brings you back to reality, "You better not be going back to sleep," Wanda says, her warm breath that smells of toothpaste fans over your face making you smile silly.

"Of course not love," you lie, "I was just thinking about all the things you needed me to do around the house."

You hear her chuckle, "Oh, I'm sure you were." She pushes your shoulder so that you roll on to your back. Wanda presses most of her weight on top of you, stroking your cheek.

With your eyes still closed she places a few soft kisses along your neck and jaw. "Hmm...I could get used to this," you crack open one eye slightly, "but you missed a spot," you say, pointing to your lips.

"Uh uh, not until you've brushed your teeth, Morning Breath," Wanda says, slapping your chest once, causing you to whine as you stretch a little.

Wanda is always the one to wake up first. Usually she will get a head start on anything needed for the day. But considering it is a weekend she has chosen to come back into bed and allow herself a morning to lounge around.

Now, with both your eyes open, you move one of your hands that was resting on her waist to her cheek and look at her freshly washed morning face.

"Good morning," you finally say, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. Despite her 'morning breath' statement she gives you a peck on the lips and returns the greeting.

The two of you have been home for two weeks. No missions. No dire need of your presence required at the compound. Just you, Wanda an-

You hear the patter of small feet and a few knocks on the door signalling the end of your peace this morning.

Having had the luxury of experiencing it more than a few times these past weeks, you know how this is going to go.

"So, what's our play this time?" You whisper to her.

"I like the one where we pretend to be asleep," she whispers back. Being quiet is detrimental so the two, soon to be, intruders are none the wiser.

You take your positions, relaxed bodies, closed eyes, waiting for the unavoidable moment when they can't help themselves and try to sneak into the room.

The sound of a soft click, notifies you the door has been opened, along with hushed tones of, "Shh, be quiet!" You admire their efforts, they are still new recruits in covert operations after all.

When they are close enough the two of you sit up, arms raised with a loud, "AHHHH!" They both let out high pitched shrieks while the two of you can't help but laugh, giving each other a high five, Wanda giggling as she leans against you.

Tommy is the first to speak, "That wasn't funny!" Followed by Billy, "You do this every time," they groan.

You and Wanda are still giggling as the boys climb onto the bed. "That's what you get for trying to sneak in here," you say triumphantly, "when will you ever learn, huh?" You question as they get comfortable between you both.

Wanda can't help but wonder, "Why are you two always awake so early on the weekends?" The boys look at each other while you sit and watch the interaction in awe as she continues, "I struggle to get you out of bed on school mornings."

They turn back to their mother and shrug, "Weekends mean more time for fun," Tommy responds. The boy, always ready with a quick quip.

Wanda gasps as she moves forward, "Why you little-" she says, tickling him.

Tommy begins to laugh while you and Billy giggle as if you're watching a show play out in front of you.

Once everyone settles back down your stomach rumbles, starting off another round of laughter.

"Ok, ok, I think that's the signal for us all to get washed up and get some breakfast sorted," you instruct.

Just like clockwork, Wanda makes her way to the kitchen while you try and get the boys to cooperate.

After a little bit of a struggle to wrangle the energetic boys together you get them to complete their morning routine.

Before you head down, you check to make sure they are done with what they were told and eventually, you make it downstairs disturbing Wanda's peace.

When you arrive in the kitchen, Wanda smiles over her shoulder at you. Kissing her on the cheek, you take over flipping pancakes so she can finish getting morning beverages sorted.

The boys bicker about their toys as they wait in their seats for their pancakes. You and Wanda sit, passing plates around and help with any fruits they want.

You can't help but feel content at the quiet, the only sounds in the room coming from cutlery hitting plates as well as the occasional competitive comment from the boys about who can finish eating first. This is what your life is and you love every second of it.

Both you and Wanda are in agreement, you couldn't be happier with the way your lives have turned out.

These weeks have only solidified yours and Wanda's plans; officially retiring from the Avengers.

Present day

The fight feels never-ending. Bad guys showing up left and right. You can't afford to think about your fatigue, a distraction could mean the difference between life and death.

You feel something rush past you and the three guys you are shielding yourself from behind a sandbag wall are knocked to the floor.

Vibrations travelling through the floor from a loud roar signals Banner is also here, making you smile with relief. You are thankful some backup has arrived.

"What? You didn't see that coming?" The speedster says, putting his hand out for you to take so you can get off the ground. "And where's my thank you?"

"For taking so long? You know, for a speedster, you're pretty slow," you joke back to Pietro.

He laughs lightly before speeding off, "Try to keep up in-law!" The gray haired man taunts.

…

The battle seems to be coming to an end, only a few brave soldiers on the opposing side are still trying their best even if they are losing.

You take in your surroundings and deem the area you are in as clear before making your way to find Wanda. You follow her powers like a beacon to get to her.

Seeing her take out an enemy brings a proud smile to your face. You can see she is exhausted but will always fight till her last breath.

Feeling your presence, she turns to you after taking down a final soldier. She smiles at you tiredly as you make your way to her.

"I'm sorry honey, I wanted to get to you sooner to show you I was okay, but I was a little busy," you say when you reach her, hands cupping her cheeks, rubbing them and feeling her relax a little in your presence.

"Don't worry malysh, I knew you were here," she rests her face in the crook of your neck inhaling, "I could feel you." The vibrations of her voice against you make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge.

You take a short moment for yourselves, before you meet with the rest of the team gathered in one place as you usually do once the fight is over.

Making your way, everyone checks the bodies they pass on the floor to make sure they are fully knocked out, ready to be detained. The clean up crew will be here soon.

Walking towards where the rest of the team is, you notice you are the last to arrive. The team all gathers and you relax a little by one of the sandbag walls beginning small chit-chat. You allow Wanda to fully press her back against your front as you lean against the wall, anything to help with the tiredness she is feeling.

Bruce confirms a silent alarm was triggered when you, Steve and Natasha got to the targeted archive room.

All that mattered now was that the mission was complete, with no major casualties.

Wanda is now leaning heavily on you so you keep your arms wrapped securely around her to keep her upright.

As SHIELD agents start to appear they begin their part of the process so your team begins their trek in the direction of the quinjets.

Still feeling a little tired, you wait back with your wife, who is now sitting on top of the wall, to allow her a little more time to replenish some energy. When she is ready she takes your hand leaning into you again after you help her down.

"When we get back I'm running you a nice hot bath," you say into her hair.

Wanda moves her head to make eye contact with you, "I hope you're taking this bath with me," she smiles.

"Like I'd have it any other way," you shake your head, smiling back at her, chuckling.

As you look ahead of you while you walk, you hear something and see some movement from the corner of your eye.

In that moment everything feels as if it moves in slow motion.

You see an enemy soldier laying on the ground. Their arm sluggishly moves, taking something from their belt and pulling the pin. Your eyes widen as you turn to Wanda, pushing her away behind another wall you are passing.

It all happens so fast.

The grenade flying through the air in your direction, followed by a loud explosion of heat.

Your body flies backwards, hitting a tree.

Hard.

In the last seconds of your consciousness pain radiates through your body but all you can think about is if Wanda was out of the blast radius.

One month ago

You seem to be spending more and more time at home now that the Avengers have recruited more help, one of them being Natasha's sister who you were surprised to learn about.

There has been a steady flow of smaller missions where you then get to spend a full week at home. It has been a good time to be able to get a schedule into place. Creating a normal home life for Billy and Tommy.

As you put the boys to bed you hear Wanda in the bathroom throwing up everything from dinner for the third night in a row.

Even though she tells you it must be a bug and that it will pass soon, you feel worried.

-

The next day arrives and you take Billy and Tommy to school on your own for the second time this week when Wanda said she wasn't feeling too good this morning.

She hasn't been able to keep much down, first it was some dinners but the previous day she didn't keep anything down at all.

By the time you get back you hear her in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach once again.

You have been kneeling next to her rubbing her back trying to help her through this as much as you can. When she seems to be done, she sits to the side and you help her lean against the wall then take a seat in front of her.

"Three days in a row can't be a coincidence, my love," You think you might know what is causing this but-

"It's too soon, right?" She finishes your thought out loud, "I know I'm late but I thought that was from the stress of everything going on. It took months with Billy and Tommy."

"Either way, I've already made an appointment with Dr Cortez," you can't help the panicked look on your face. Wanda thinks it's admirable so she smiles at you.

"And when did you make this appointment?" Wanda asks, raising her eyebrows, "Also, when is it?"

You smile sheepishly at getting caught. "I called yesterday, she had a cancellation for this afternoon," Wanda shakes her head amused. She puts out her hand to show she is ready to get up so you help her to her feet and don't let go until you see she is steady.

Wanda wraps her arms around you and presses the side of her face into your chest, "Have I told you how much I love you?"

You kiss the top of her head murmuring into her hair, "No, not today you haven't," you scoff slightly.

She lifts her head to look at you with her chin now resting against you. You try not to make a face but you do. You know you have been caught from seeing Wanda's expression changing so you say something before she can, "If you think you're going to kiss me with your vomit breath, you've got another thing coming."

Wanda moves away and looks at you in the mirror as she reaches for her toothbrush, "What ever happened to 'in sickness and in health'?"

"Oh, I can still love you in sickness, it doesn't mean I have to kiss you," your response is a little too quick for Wanda's liking. "Besides I still remember you calling me 'morning breath', it's only fair I return the favour now," you finish with a cheeky smile meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Not one for holding on to the past I see," Wanda muffles past the foamy toothpaste in her mouth sarcastically. While you just smile at her comment.

-

When you make it to your appointment, Dr Cortez takes some samples and instructs you to await her call.

You are done in time for the school run so the two of you pick the boys up and treat them to pizza for dinner.

Wanda's sickness still hasn't lightened up, you are glad she suggested the safe choice of a soup instead of the greasy food so you had picked that up too.

She ends up bringing up her dinner and instead of hovering around her you keep the boys busy with deciding on a movie to watch because they are done with their homework. The last thing you want is them to notice and be concerned for their mother's health.

Once you have them settled you go to check on Wanda. As you get to her she is already leaving the bathroom with a tired expression on her face.

You take her in your arms and comfort her. It's the only thing you can really do. Wanda wraps her arms around you leaning against heavily into your side as you make your way to the living room.

Once you make it to the couch, as always the boys are situated in the middle. You help Wanda sit on one side while you move to sit on the other side.

This is how you spend most evenings, cuddled up relaxing. This time the choice of movie is lost on you because all you can think about is Wanda and what could come from the test results.

You don't notice Wanda looking in your direction. She moves her arm to the back cushions stretching over to run her fingers through the back of your hair, "Your thoughts are loud, honey," she keeps her voice low so the boys don’t divert their attention from the television, before you look over.

"I'm sorry, I jus-"

She is smiling softly when she interrupts you. "I know, but please don't worry. We don't know anything yet," she continues speaking quietly.

Your gazes are pulled away by a small voice coming from between you. "Are you sick mommy?" You see Billy looking in Wanda's direction as Tommy pulls his eyes away from the screen.

Kids are always more perceptive than you realise.

"I have been feeling sick, yes Billy," Wanda answers truthfully.

This time Tommy speaks with a follow up question, "But you're gonna be okay. Aren't you?"

"She's gonna be fine," you reply, for her. "We went to see the doctor today, we just need to wait and see what they say."

Present day

Placing her hand to her pounding head Wanda tries to get past the ringing in her ears. When she stops feeling nauseous she looks around her immediate vicinity. She begins to panic when she doesn't see you.

Wanda was only unconscious for a moment and now that her mind has cleared a little she realises can't feel you as strongly as before. It is as if you are fading. Her mind concludes that she has awoken to the sound of you dying when she hears you wheezing, making her panic grow.

There is dust and debris everywhere and Wanda does her best to look through it trying to find you. She feels a breeze pass her and in the next second Pietro is in front of her, "Sestra, what happ-"

"Where's Y/n?!" Wanda exasperates, her worry overwhelming because she can only just about feel your presence.

Pietro helps her scramble to her feet as they both look around. Wanda walks in the direction she thinks you will be while Pietro trails behind her, looking around to make sure they are safe.

"No, no, no, no," she panics, seeing your boots a few feet away.

As she gets closer Wanda can hear you coughing and your wheezing gets louder. In her mind it is as if your light is dying out.

No.

She can't lose you.

You can't die.

One month ago

The movie still playing in the background is long forgotten.

You and Wanda continue to tell the kids not to worry and you should hear from the doctor soon.

As if he has an epiphany Billy asks, "Could it be a baby?" This gets Tommy perking up too.

You can't help but be curious how he got to that conclusion, "What makes you ask that?"

Billy responds like it's obvious, "You and mommy were talking about having another baby."

Tommy seems to have picked up how Billy got the idea, "Yeah, and we saw something on TV where someone said she was pregnant and that's why she was being sick."

You and Wanda glance at each other for a quick second, smiling at how smart they have gotten. Kids really are more perceptive than you give them credit for.

"We're not sure yet. That's why we went to see the doctor," you respond.

They still have questions. So Tommy asks, "But why did you go to a doctor, can't you check at home?"

"You check on a stick or something like that?" Billy adds.

"This sickness has been different from last time and it's come on quicker than when your mommy was carrying the two of you," you explain to the two boys listening intently.

"We were more prepared and it took a lot longer for you two to turn up," Wanda smiles, tapping Billy's nose making him smile. "And because this sickness is a little different, we thought it would be best to go see Dr Cortez. She said we will find out soon enough," Wanda finishes.

The boys ask more questions and you do your best to answer them. Eventually the conversation dwindles and you notice how late it has gotten. So you announce it is time for bed.

When you lay facing each other, you reassure Wanda, "Whatever this is, we'll get through it together."

You seal your promise with a kiss and hold Wanda until she sleeps. It takes you a little while longer, every bad scenario playing in your head regarding these test results.

Considering your track record of losing loved ones, your mother to leukaemia, your father to an aneurysm and your sister in battle, you don't like your odds. 

Your stomach is in knots, something in your chest feels heavy while your eyes burn. You hope that these test results come quickly and not at all at the same time. You are not ready to lose the love of your life.

Present day

You can just about hear the footsteps closing in on you as you cough out the dryness in your mouth. But you don't care, you just want to go back to your dream. The memory of your family on the couch watching a movie. Talking to each other about funny parts.

As the frantic steps get closer, you close your eyes, ready to be finished off. You think of your boys and of Wanda, sorry that you won't be able to see them again.

"Malysh!"

You swear you hear someone voice you recognise.

"Y/n!" A different voice shouts.

At least you think you recognise them. It is hard to tell with it sounding like you are underwater.

You can barely feel it but cold hands meet your cheeks, rubbing your skin. So that's who it is. Wanda rests your head in her lap as your hand makes its way to hers resting on your face.

Quickly catching up and remembering where you are, relief fills you when you see her, "Wanda," you smile tiredly. "You're okay."

"I thought I had lost you," Wanda sighs. "I saw you lying here, I thought…"

"No, no. I'm okay," you wheeze out.

"Try not to talk, okay? You need to save your energy," she says with tears filling her eyes.

The back of your head is covered in blood. Dust and mud is mixed all over your face and uniform.

You soon realise you are not actually okay. You know what is going to happen, how this is going to end. You can already feel life slipping away from your body.

Pietro is trying to reach someone through his earpiece but it seems to not be working.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," you begin quietly, your voice breaking as tears fall from your eyes.

"Stop… please don't talk like that," your wife begs you. She turns to Pietro and hurriedly tells him to get some medics and a stretcher to your location as fast as he can.

"Wanda, please look at me," you request, before the speedster disappears.

As always you are captivated by her green eyes that the forest surrounding you could never compare to. "Tell the boys I love them," your hand moves to rest on her stomach, "the baby too."

Wanda shakes her head not wanting to accept this was your end as you continue, "God, I hope they get your eyes."

One month ago

The day after your discussion with Billy and Tommy everything is normal, well as normal as the past week has been.

Wanda is forced to stay home because of her sickness while you take care of the boys then take them to school afterwards.

On your return you help Wanda however you can and get her to sit down to relax for most of the day, making sure she takes it easy.

To distract Wanda and even yourself you discuss a variety of things, from; getting things finalised with Fury - he says you will be needed for a little longer while they get the newcomers trained, he promises no big missions are in the near future, to; Billy and Tommy's progress at school.

It isn't until early afternoon that Wanda's phone rings.

She looks at you after she reads the caller ID on her screen, she finds you already looking in her direction.

You turn off the television as Wanda puts down her book to answer the call, picking up the device from the coffee table in front of you.

The look on your wife's face is undecipherable as she responds with short answers and verbal nods. You can't tell if she looks panicked, excited or nervous, maybe a mixture of everything.

A new appointment is set up which makes your stomach flip. Before you can say anything she thanks the doctor and hangs up.

Wanda takes in the apprehensive look you have on but a smile spreads over her face, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Wasting no time she reveals, "I'm pregnant."

Your eyes grow wide as your tense muscles relax. The smile on your face now mimics Wanda's wide one. You lunge forward kissing Wanda wrapping your arms around each other. You celebrate with teary smiles, hugs and kisses. Words of not believing this is real take over as you place your hands on her stomach.

"You're pregnant," you whisper into the quiet room, the smile never leaving your face as a happy tear falls from your eye.

She puts her hands over yours, "We sure are."

-

When you arrive home with Tommy and Billy after collecting them from school you share the news. You sit them down and tell them this is a little family secret. They couldn't tell anyone, not yet.

You were probably being a little too cautious but you didn't want to jinx it. It was an easy agreement between you and Wanda to not let anyone know until at least three months into the pregnancy.

Present day

"Well, I hope they get your beautiful eyes," Wanda responds, "we'll see who wins in seven months, okay?"

You breathe out a pained laugh, "You're really gonna fight me on this, right now?"

Your eyes are barely open but grow heavier as your blinking becomes slower. Wanda looks up to see if help is on its way.

As she looks around you take in all of her features. The beauty marks dotted around her face, laugh lines you are proud to be the reason for helping make, her soft skin you like to trace in the mornings. Especially the mornings you wake up before her.

You feel colder and the weight of Wanda's hand in yours is no longer there. The end is near so you take in as much as you can before you say your final words.

Reaching up, you stroke her face with your finger, you hope you are not pressing too hard, "I love you. Always remember that."

When she looks at you, you continue, "You don't have to do it all by yourself-"

"Stop that. I'm not losing you," she desperately cuts you off.

It doesn't deter you from saying what is on your mind. "You have Pietro and Nat. Even Clint is always giving his advice even when we don't ask for it," you laugh getting a small smile from her until you fall into a coughing fit with blood spluttering from your mouth.

Once it subsides she looks at you with her eyebrows cinched, "I'm not losing you," she says firmly and slowly. "I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me, I'll always be with you," you say, putting your hand to her chest. "Always." A tear makes its way down the side of your face.

You know you don't have much longer. There is not enough time but you feel like you have so much you want to say.

Your eyes begin to droop close, "No, I can't lose you," you just about hear. Your ears feel cloudy, just like your vision. You try to tell her again how you love her, your voice but a whisper using the last bit of energy you have to say it one more time, "I… lov-" with all your energy dispelled you don't stay awake long enough to finish your sentence as your consciousness fades into darkness.

One week later

There is a small smile on Wanda's face as she dreams of you and the boys - it is you laughing with them. Well, you are laughing at your own jokes and the boys giving you a weird look because they don't understand the punchlines. Instead of explaining you chase them around the room jokingly chastising them for not understanding them.

She loves to observe moments like this in your daily life, appreciating having a family of her own. A dream that had to be dropped after she joined Hydra. For a long time she didn’t think she would find her place in the world. Be at peace. But she found it with you.

Her limbs are stiff in her uncomfortable position on the chair she fell asleep in. Night after night of sleeping in an awkward position has not done well for her aching body.

Shortly after you fell unconscious, Pietro returned with Natasha and transportation to get you both out of there. Wanda didn’t let anyone else handle you, afraid they would jostle you too much so she used her powers to levitate you to the stretcher which she then moved to the truck where the medics hurried to look you over. There was no way she could risk losing you if she hadn't already.

If Pietro wasn't there she would have hit the ground as she collapsed, her fatigue catching up with her. She was checked over and apart from a few cuts and bruises she was deemed fine.

No one knew to check the baby.

Something stirs her awake, as usual she hears the sounds of the machines around the private room and footsteps walking up and down the corridor behind her. This time however there is a new sound, not new exactly but it’s you, laughing.

Once Wanda’s confusion subsides she realises your laugh isn’t a lingering sound from her dream. It’s real. Her eyes finally focus enough on you laughing because of something Sam said who is standing beside you on the opposite side of the bed.

The sound is interrupted with you coughing in pain holding your ribs, “You’re the one that needs to stop making me laugh, Wilson.” It is enough to get Wanda to sit upright, the other man in the room, Bucky, catching her movements first out of the three of you.

“You’re awake,” Wanda rushes from her seat to sit beside you, carefully wrapping her arms around you and pressing her face in the crook of your neck, “I was so worried.” She can’t help but let a few tears fall, which you feel soaking into your hospital gown.

After checking you over the nurse was going to wake Wanda but you stopped her, wanting to let her rest. When the nurse was exiting the room she found the men lingering outside your door until she was done for their daily visit.

You whisper reassurances to Wanda, that you are okay and explain that Bucky, Steve and Sam were the closest to the room when you woke up.

Steve left after a few minutes because he was needed elsewhere - training duty with potential new Avengers. He expressed his relief saying he was glad you were okay before hugging you then leaving shortly after.

Bucky taps Sam on the shoulder, signalling to the door to give the two of you some privacy.

"I didn’t mean to wake you, love,” you say as Wanda pulls away, wiping her tears. She takes your face into her hands, “Sam was telling me to - 'Stop laughing, your wife will kill me if she wakes up hearing you in pain'," you mimic Sam as best as you can.

Wanda scoffs and shakes her head at your antics. She looks at you, really looks at you as if assessing you. You look tired, the bruises and cuts that litter your face, arms and peaking out from your robe not helping.

You cup her cheek, tracing a fading cut there as you get her to meet your eye line, “I’m okay,” you promise her, then move your arms around Wanda as tight as you can. You power through, your aching body not liking the movement of your limbs even if the feeling has been dulled down due to the pain medication running through your veins from the bag attached to your arm. 

Wanda can’t help but voice the deepest fear she has had this past week, "I thought I was gonna lose you." Your eyes well up because of her shaky tone.

"I know, I'm sorry," you pull back, "I'm sorry. I thought that was it, I was so worried. I had to tell you whatever I could." You look into her eyes, the ones you will be able to continue waking up to, thankful you still get to live your life with her.

Putting your hand on her stomach, you swallow the lump in your throat in fear of the answer you were about to receive, "Did you get checked out? Bucky and Sam didn’t mention anything about the baby."

When Wanda awoke the following day after the mission, she was told she was healthy. It hit her all at once about them not knowing to check the life growing inside her.

She places a hand over yours, with tears in her red rimmed eyes thinking about the worry she went through. First the possibility of losing you, then maybe losing the new part of you she had left.

“Natasha was there when I woke up, she found a doctor so fast when I told her,” Wanda recalls, remembering the sheer urgency she showed to find someone. Natasha all but dragged a doctor into the room to make them check Wanda.

"They did a sonogram," she trails off. You look at Wanda with regret in your eyes for not being there, "I got to see this little one for the first time," she says looking down to her stomach then back at you smiling, "they confirmed, everything is fine."

You sigh in relief, holding her hands between you, "I wish I was there to see and hear their heartbeat with you."

Wanda rubs the back of your hand with her thumb, "Would you like to see?" You respond by nodding your head. Wanda checks the pocket of the hoodie she is wearing and when it is empty she sees the small square photo paper on the chair she has been calling a bed.

Reaching over she grabs the photo that is face down and sits next to you after you scoot over making space for her, "We've got a strong one here," she says holding the image from the sonogram. You rest your head against Wanda's shoulder as you take in the blur of a baby in the picture.

You take a deep breath and smile at your wife. "We need to get that retirement sorted, huh?" You half joke, “This little peanut needs to stay safe, we can’t risk something like this happening again.”

Wanda agrees but senses your worry when you place a hand back onto her stomach, looking at it as if you can see the baby. “The doctors checked everything. Twice over, malysh,” she adds to reassure you. “She’s fine.”

Your head snaps up so fast, a small smile taking over Wanda's face, looking down for a second and scrunching her nose when she realises what she has just let slip. You can’t help the happy tears that well in your eyes, “A girl?”

Wanda replies with a nod, smiling tearily, “The doctor thought I already knew.” You move forward and kiss Wanda as much as your body will let you.

A little girl. She will be the one to complete your family.

After a few moments of silence basking in each other's presence, your forehead leaning against hers, you break it, "I would never have forgiven myself if I died."

Wanda scoffs at your comment effectively breaking you apart, "You wouldn't have forgiven you?! I wouldn't have forgiven you!" You chuckle at her comment.

You take both her hands in yours letting out a breath, “So Nat knows about the baby?” You ask in a whisper and Wanda hums in response. "And who knows about the retirement plan?"

"Just Nat,” Wanda replies.

“We are never going to be able to keep anything from her, are we?" You joke, making Wanda giggle.

"Erm, of course you’re not," Natasha says, walking into the room. "You two are always so obvious when you're hiding something. Though, I will admit,” Natasha pauses as she places her hand on your shoulder when she reaches your side, “I was surprised by the news of the baby." The three of you share a smile before she continues, "How are you feeling?"

"Alive." You smile gratefully, looking at Wanda then back at Natasha, "I hear I have you to thank."

"I'm sure Sam exaggerated but yes. Please send your praises my way," she muses, smiling back at you, taking a step back.

“He did mention something about you bulldozing a few trees to get to me,” you remark.

This gets the three of you to chuckle. When the joke passes Natasha asks, "You up for some visitors?"

As if on queue Billy and Tommy enter the room with Pietro following them. They run up to the bed and practically jump on you.

"Careful boys!" Wanda warns from next to you. They reply, sheepishly in unison, "Sorry mom."

Your chest fills with warmth as you push their hair back while looking at them, "It's okay," you look to Wanda before saying, "I'm okay," with an emotional smile.

Both boys start rambling on about all the cool things they have been doing with Uncle Pietro; playing games, eating junk food and something about being able to jump higher on the trampoline because uncle Pietro can use his superspeed to help. On top of that, how fun it has been having 'Aunty' Monica over too.

"So, not one nutritional meal this week, I'll take it?" You look at Pietro with a raised eyebrow. Then continue with a sarcastic remark, "And I see you've been showing the kids how to be responsible with powers?"

There is a beat of silence as everyone's attention turns to Pietro.

"The candy was fruit flavored!" He exasperates. The boys nod at his statement as Natasha stands to the side with her arms crossed, chuckling while you smile at the scene.

Pietro is about to continue but gets cut off by Wanda with an unimpressed glare, "Let's not forget this extra house guest I wasn't aware of."

"I needed the adult company…?" He shrugs unsurely.

It gets chaotic with Wanda telling Pietro off, the boys trying to defend him and Natasha standing on the side laughing at the whole thing. Even with the pain you can feel you can't stop yourself from laughing too.

Eventually your laughs stop and with a smile on your face, you take in the moment.

You wouldn't have it any other way. This is your family. Your small and silly little family.

You are glad to be able to live another day.

[controlmyfeet]

dad!matty is everything to me. maybe something with reader having a grand reveal that she is pregnant and matty losing his mind and after the news he always keeps his hand on her belly AHHHHh!

when we are together - matty healy

future dad!matty healy x reader

fluff

warnings: emetophobia, pregnancy, simp matty

a/n: at first i loved this, then i hated it, and now i think i like it. i hope you do too. also to everyone that sent requests, i saw them and i’m working on them but it’s going to take a while! thank you for your patience <3

2463 words

i thought the nausea was just a consequence of the migraine i had at the beginning of the week. for the past month, i’ve been trying to adapt to my new job. i’ve been working at the same place for almost a year, but recently i moved to a new department, and everything has been so stressful that i haven’t been sleeping or eating enough, but it’s been two days, and i am once again spilling whatever i had for dinner down the toilet.

it’s 3 a.m. and matty has been to go to the studio early in the morning, so i decided not to wake him up. but when i hear our bedsheets rustle a little louder and the sound of the bathroom door sliding open, i realize it was no use.

“oh baby,” he says softly and reaches towards the counter to grab a hair tie. he runs his fingers through my hair and puts it in a loose ponytail to keep it out of my face. “let go, you’re alright.”

he sits with me until after i’m done throwing up, his hands running up and down my back. i try to use the feeling of him to control my breathing.

“sorry i woke you up,” i say, still breathing heavily after a long silence, my arms propped on the toilet seat and my face still hovering over the toilet bowl, just in case.

“don’t apologize, darling” he squeezes my left shoulder and leaves a little kiss. i turn my face to look at him, eyebrows frowned, and lips pursed “i’m worried about you.”

“i probably got a stomach bug or something.”

i see his sleepy face flash with the sudden realization, “when was the last time you got you’re period?”

as soon as i hear those words, i feel a wave of panic wash over me. i was supposed to have my period almost two weeks ago. my period was mostly regular, maybe some days earlier or later, but never weeks. with all the stress and meetings at work, i must’ve forgotten about it.

“oh shit”

he tries not to laugh at my reaction, seeming too calm about this situation. we’ve talked about having children someday, but this is so sudden. we have nothing planned.

“i can run to the store and grab a few tests,” he says before i start overthinking. hands moving to cup my cheek so i can focus on him, his warm skin contrasting the cold toilet seat. “if you want that, of course.”

“yeah”

“okay, let me just grab a shirt then” he moves to stand up, way too excited for someone who woke up in the middle of the night to his girlfriend vomiting. but i quickly grab his arm, pulling him closer.

“matty, wait,” he shuffles closer to me and i hug his arm tighter. “and what if i really am pregnant?”

“we’ll do whatever you want,” he grabs my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “you know i’d love to have a baby with you, and i understand if now it’s not the best moment. but we could work it out, right? we’re in love, we’re settled, and we’re surrounded by people who love and care for us; we’d be alright.”

i nod and take a deep breath, feeling much happier and calmer about the situation. and also very grateful to have someone so understanding and loving by my side.

“do you want to lay for a bit, or do you want to stay here in case the nausea comes back?” he asks, still holding my hand.

“i’ll lay down, i don’t think there’s anything left”

slowly, he stands up and helps me get up. i turn to the sink and he helps me hold my balance on the counter, standing behind me while i brush my teeth and holding my waist so i can stand up straight.

“you know i love you no matter what, right?” i feel his lips moving against my hair after i spit out the toothpaste. “and having a baby would just make me love you even more.”

i turn around and wrap my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck and leaving a kiss there. “i love you too.”

matty helps me to bed and adjusts my pillow before grabbing a used shirt and his wallet. he sits with me for a while. calloused fingers stroking my hair softly and his low voice telling me i’ll be alright. we’ll be alright. he pecks my lips before telling me he’ll be right back.

before i can even hear our front door closing, my thoughts are already taken over by little feet, bouncy curls, and big brown eyes.

–

i realize i had fallen asleep only when i feel matty’s fingers brushing my hair away from my face and his lips pressing against my forehead. “you ready?” he whispers

we make our way to the bathroom, and i take the three tests he bought. i place them next to the sink and he sets a timer. before i can feel the anxiety creeping in once again, matty pulls me into his arms and rests his chin on the top of my head.

“i don’t know if this is more scary or exciting,” i whisper and wrap my arms around his waist tightly.

“i know, baby. but we’re in this together, okay? i’ll be here for anything you need.”

he runs his fingers through my hair, and i leave a kiss on his chest. the room is quiet for a while; the only noise i can hear are our breaths and his heartbeat. the silence makes my earlier thoughts come back. pink chubby cheeks, little hands wrapping around my finger. high-pitched giggles echoing throughout the house.

“i think we’d make pretty cool babies,” he says after a while, reading my thoughts.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” i can feel his grin on the top of my head. “half me, half you? that’s a recipe for the coolest kid ever.”

we stand holding each other in the middle of the bathroom until the timer goes off. hiding my smile on his chest as he kisses my head. when the ringtone echoes in the cold bathroom, i feel a rush of adrenaline running through my veins, and i’m pretty sure my hands start to shake.

“i’m not sure if i can look” i let a nervous laugh out and cover my face; he lifts a hand and softly caresses my arm.

“do you want to do it together? or do you want me to look first?”

“no…no, let’s do it together.” i cup his face and give him a chaste kiss.

matty takes each of the tests out of the little cup and turns it around. and as soon as he does, i see the two little red lines, and before i can even process it, matty is already looking at me, waiting for my reaction. but i can see the twinkle in his eyes and the smile he is trying to hold back and i let out a laugh.

“i’m pregnant,” my eyes crowd with happy tears threatening to spill over “we’re having a baby!”

“yeah?” he asks, fully smiling now. i can just nod. and smile.

matty wraps his arms tightly around my waist and lifts me, peppering kisses all over my face. his laugh mixed with sobs. i hold him just as tightly.

“oh darling, i love you so much.” his voice is muffled as he rests his head on the crook of my neck, tears of joy dampening my skin.

“i love you too, matty,” i reply, nuzzling my face in his hair “i can’t wait to see you with our little baby.”

i feel his grip tighten around me, more than i thought possible. face still hidden in my neck and leaving little kisses there.

“you’re going to be the hottest mum ever.” he lifts his head to give me a heartfelt kiss when i start laughing, “best mum too.”

–

it’s been a few weeks since we found out i’m pregnant, so to enjoy the little free time the boys had before going back on tour, matty and i decided to host a sunday lunch at our house. we haven’t told the news to anyone besides our parents. we wanted to enjoy it by ourselves for a bit, even though i worried at first that denise’s enthusiasm would give it away.

i was chopping up some peaches for the pasta salad recipe i saw on tiktok while sitting on a stool. i usually would do this standing up, but matty has been watching over me like a hawk and insisted that i sit down, saying that i shouldn’t overwork my body. whatever that means, i guess. i haven’t even started showing yet, i can’t even imagine how he will act when my bump starts growing.

he comes into the kitchen carrying a few packs of beer and some of the extra ingredients i asked him to buy, and settles everything on the counter. he steals a small piece of the peach i’ve been cutting and comes behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“how are you feeling, my love?” he asks, moving his right hand to rest on my stomach. i stop what i am doing and turn my head to face him.

“i’m good, i think the nausea phase might be coming to an end.” he nods and i place my hand on top of his. “you’re gonna have to be more discreet, y’know?”

“what do you mean?” he frowns and i fight the urge to run my thumb over the crease between his eyebrows.

“i mean that if we’re going to keep a secret, you can’t be with your hands on my tummy all the time!” i explain while holding back a laugh. “and you also can’t treat me as if i was made of glass.”

“but i want to feel her!” he protests and his frown gets deeper as he tries to prove his point by pushing his hand more firmly on my belly. i move both of my hands to cup his face.

“baby, there is nothing to feel yet.” i try to be serious, but matty’s desolate face sends me into a fit of giggles, “and you don’t even know if it is a her, we won’t know for a few months still.”

my attempt to reason with him completely fails as his face turns into one of shock, as if the things i was saying were the most absurd he’s ever heard “oh, i know we are having a little girl, alright? i’m a hundred percent certain.”

still laughing at my boyfriend’s antics, i give up on reasoning and entirely turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck and bringing his lips to mine.

–

adam and carly were the first ones to arrive, with little baby hann clinging onto both of their hands. soon, ross arrived with his girlfriend, anna, and matty started grilling the burgers, knowing that george and charli would most likely be late as usual. after our talk in the kitchen, he sulked but understood that he couldn’t be on me all the time or it would look suspicious. sure, he is an affectionate person, but with how he acted, everyone would notice that there was something more to it. still, he would go out of his way to pull my chair and refill my water while not subtly caressing my belly.

i had told everyone i wouldn’t be able to drink since i would have a medical checkup the following day and had to do some routine blood tests. which wasn’t exactly a lie, but i was leaving some crucial information out, of course. so when george and charli showed up with an entire jar of clericot, i knew we’d have some problems.

she bought my excuse at first, sharing most of the drink she made with carly and anna, but after two glasses, she started getting a little persistent.

“girl, i made this whole jar of clericot just because i know you like it!” charli complained, almost pouting at this point. and it really is one of my favorite beverages for the summer, but it’s not worth it. i can see matty at the grill giving me not-so-subtle glances as if to say, ‘don’t do it’.

“i can’t, charli, it’ll mess up my tests,” i tried to reason while nibbling on a slice of seasoned peach, but george’s girlfriend is just as stubborn as my own boyfriend.

“oh c’mon, just one glass won’t hurt,” she protested. “it’s not like you’re pregnant.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, my eyes widen and matty turns his head so quickly that it might’ve given him whiplash. so much for being discreet. we exchange looks while my brain works to come up with something to back up my excuse.

“well, uhm, i–those are some very important tests i got to do.”

“oh yeah? what are they for?” carly–who usually would just watch and laugh at our banter–joins in, not at all convinced by my excuse.

“cholesterol?”

no one responds. the girls are exchanging suspicious glances with george and adam–whose little boy on his lap is too preoccupied with his toy cars to pay attention to the conversation–as i turn to matty, begging for some backup. he just looks at me nervously and shrugs.

“that is such bullshit!” ross, who had been helping matty at the grill, exclaims after almost a full minute of silence.

matty comes up behind me with a big smile and wraps his arms around my shoulder. “just tell them at this point, love,” he whispers just for me to hear and leaves an encouraging kiss on my neck.

“well?” charli asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. as well as everyone else’s in the room. i take a final look at matty before turning back to them.

“we’re pregnant!” i exclaim, now smiling so widely my cheeks hurt.

all i can hear is the cheer and the laughter from our friends as matty presses several kisses to my cheek before they come to congratulate us. i stand up from my chair as soon as adam pulls matty into a hug and ross is the first one to embrace me, soon followed by charli.

the day resumes with a toast and lots of smiles after the food is served. adam and carly tell us stories of their baby boy, and george reminds us of all the anecdotes of the boys in their pre-teens. and i can’t help but think how it will be when our little one meets its lovely uncles and aunties.

[kkcauseway]

Caring Hand

Summary: You're going on a trip with Joel, which means driving to the destination and it’s hours away… to make matters worse your morning sickness is at its worst. So Joel does his best to look after you. Content and warnings: TW: vomiting -morning sickness. Talks of pregnancy, protective!Joel, caring!Joel. No use of y/n. Word count: 1.8k

Caring husband Joel Miller x F!reader

Main masterlist

You and Joel are travelling to a lodge you have booked for the next week. Your first proper time away in months. Joel booked it as a surprise after your promotion, he’s so thoughtful and compassionate like that.

However, you’ve not been feeling good all morning, morning sickness is at its worst again, this pregnancy so far really hasn’t been kind to you. You’ve been throwing up throughout the day for the past week straight, and the temperature outside reaching record highs means there’s no helping you to feel even slightly better. The heat makes you sicker.

This trip has been planned for months, obviously not with pregnancy in mind. (Not that you’d change it for the world.) But even with you feeling so ill, hardly able to keep food down, you’re not about to let that ruin your trip. It’s very much needed, and you do think it will help to make you feel better. The air’s cleaner where you’re going. It will be nice to breathe in really fresh air, and there’s a lake, god you could just about strip naked and jump in there right this second. You’ve been on the road about an hour when you begin to feel really sick and hot, you’re feeling the heat a lot more than usual today. Having already stripped down as much as is possible there’s not much else you can do. Wearing the bare minimum before it would be classed as ‘indecent exposure’ or more to the point where Joel would get too excited by the sight that he would absolutely ‘need’ to have his way with you. Although he knows better than to joke with you right now.

Keeping your eyes closed and trying to keep your breathing calm is about all you can do to try to relax; Joel can tell you really don’t feel well though. He’s got to learn when you get bad because you aren’t always vocal about it, not wanting to worry him, although he begs you to ‘worry him’, so he can share the burden and try his best to make it better.

“You want some more water baby?” he asks sincerely.

“Please” you say wiping your forehead, not even thinking about the fact Joel’s driving and it means he’s reaching into the back to get it for you whilst he’s supposed to be watching the road.

With thanks you take the bottle from him. Taking a large, heavenly swig. The water isn’t warm yet thankfully, but you know it won’t be long till it is, so you savour every second of the ice-cold water as it makes its way down. That definitely helps. You opt to roll the bottle on either side of your neck before doing the same to your cheeks. It feels amazing and you can’t help the little satisfied moan that falls from your lips.

Joel smirks as he shakes his head at you. You lightly laugh back at him through the discomfort beginning to feel better then. Finding it easier to enjoy the trip, even finding the energy to sing along to certain songs.

But then it suddenly hits you again and you go quiet. As expected, the heat has turned the water almost hot, and it’s not at all satisfying to drink. But you grin and bear it to keep yourself hydrated, breathing through the sick feeling. Not allowing anything to put a dampener on the start of your trip.

☀️☀️☀️☀️

You need air, proper air not just the air-con blowing in your face and soon, you need out of the car to fully breathe. “Babe, can we stop at the next services please? I really need to get out for a bit.”

Joel looks to you briefly “Sure, we can Baby, you really not feeling good still?”

“No, I’m not. This baby’s really playing me up” you sink into your seat, rubbing a palm over your stomach, hoping to alleviate the feeling.

“Okay baby” he sighs deeply, hating seeing you in this much discomfort without being able to do anything to help. “The next services aren’t too far out we can stop have something to eat too if you’re up for it?”

“Let’s see how we go” you let out a heavy breath. The thought of eating food physically repulsing you.

Joel has the aircon blasting in your face, and it’s by far the best thing ever, but it’s not enough. You try your best to focus on the cool air coming at you and for a short time it does the job, but then you hit traffic. And you go from speeding away to 10mph if you’re lucky.

“Fuck Joel, you need to pull over as soon as you can, I can’t wait till we get to the services. Fuck, I need to get out. Feel like I can’t breathe” you huff.

“Okay Baby I promise soon as I can I’ll pull over, so you can get some air okay. Promise baby, don’t panic okay?” Joel’s worried, it takes a lot for you to moan about feeling unwell.

“I feel so sick” you whimper sounding so small.

“I know Baby m’sorry, hopefully won’t be long and you’ll start feelin’ better. I know y’hate feelin’ like this.”

“I do, I hate it so much” you utter sounding so deflated.

As the car begins slowly moving once more, you feel heat rise from your feet to your face and you’re overcome with this nasty unbearably hot feeling. And then before you can say or do anything you throw up all over yourself, a choke like cough following afterwards. It genuinely came from nowhere you didn’t feel it rise; it just came out. There was no way to prevent it from getting all over you and the car seat.

Joel looks over at you and uses his hand closest to you to hold your hair out of your face “you’re okay Baby just breathe” his other hand quickly grabs a plastic bag from his car door storage.

As you breathe incredibly heavy you take the bag from him, “just in case” he whispers before he puts that hand back on the wheel. You’re so uncomfortable as vomit slowly seeps into your shorts and a smell of stomach acid fills the air.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry Joel, it just, just came out” you pant, eyes stinging, and heart racing.

He’s indicating now to a point on the road he can pull over in. “Baby don’t be sorry y’couldn’t help it” he’s still holding the hair out of your face, but you thankfully haven’t been sick since.

When he parks safely, he quickly jumps out of the car, goes into the boot to retrieve some tissues and wipes before he comes around to your side opening your car door.

“I’m so sorry you feel this shit Baby” he utters beginning to clean away the sick from your lap, using the currently unsoiled bag he gave you to discard the tissues in.

As much as you feel like shit, you still can’t believe how much he’s helping you, especially considering you’ve just thrown up in his car, all over his seat. He didn’t even think about it before jumping into action, not showing any signs of repulsion.

When it’s okay for you to get out of the car, you slowly jump down using Joel’s hand to steady you. He quickly cleans the seat as you take a wipe and start to clean your hands and arms. Once finished Joel doesn’t even hesitate to get onto his knees to clean off your shorts and legs properly. He can see your breathing is still very uneven and you look on the verge of tears. “Shhh, you’re okay baby” he reassures softly as he uses delicate strokes with the wipe.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it.” You try to hold the tears back, but to no avail.

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry Baby, s’okay” he reassures whilst continuing to clean your shorts.

“I’m so embarrassed. I'm so disgusting.”

He stands up then, finally done with cleaning your lower half and you’ve finished cleaning your top half. Joel looks into your eyes “Baby you’re living through all of this so you can bring our baby into the world, trust me, watching you embrace all the shit this pregnancy is throwing at you. S’sexy regardless of what happens okay? Not disgusting”. You stay silent, hanging your head low in shame. “Hey” he grabs your chin gently, so you have no choice but to look up at him. “I mean it Baby; would I ever say anything I didn’t mean?”

“No” you whisper before sniffling.

“No, I wouldn’t, so stop feeling embarrassed, I’ll always adore you no matter what”. He strokes your cheek, and you lean into his palm as he does so.

“I love you Joel, I really do” you say through your slowing whimpers.

“I love you too Baby. How y’feelin’ now?”

“Sick again, which is just perfect.”

“Well, there’s no rush for us to get back onto the road Baby we can stay here as long as y’need us to.”

He puts his arm around you then, stroking at your back.

“You’re so good to me Miller, I do honestly love you so much.” You turn into his side placing an arm either side of his body before squeezing him to prove your affection. He continues his stroking whilst leaning so his lips rest on the top of your head speaking loud into your hair as he replies, “I love you so much too, and this lil baby of ours, even if they’re just a teeny tiny dot right now.” He kisses the top of your head, and you stay stood in that embrace for a little while.

☀️☀️☀️☀️

“Not to ruin the moment, but I’m definitely gonna be sick again.”

You bring a hand to your mouth, and you move away from him slightly then, but he runs after you to hold your hair back. Rubbing your back as you throw up once more.

“Fuck baby m’so sorry you feel like this” he says to you between your bouts of retching. “S’it you get it all out”.

Eventually you spit for one final time and stand up straight again then, Joel pulls out a tissue from his pocket and you wipe your mouth “ugh I hate this”, Joel looks at you sympathetically before passing you some gum, which you’re eternally grateful for. “I hate it so fucking much” you say between chews “but, it’s all worth it for her” you rest a hand on your still flat stomach.

“Her?” he questions.

“Just a feeling that’s all.”

He smiles at you then and you smile back. “My girls” he utters softly through a wide grin placing his palm above yours.

How does he manage to make you feel so good even in your worst moments?

With the sickness feeling finally completely gone (at least for today- you hope) you can get back on the road. A week away full of fun, food, sex, and sun. God you’ve been longing for this for months. Just you and Joel. Though it means even more now than it did before. You’re soaking up all the time you have left before you lives are forever changed.

Changed for the better…

Main masterlist

[wonillaa]

dumb in love with you — jungwon one shot

summary . for the first time, jungwon struggles to speak and it’s all because of you and the way you smile at him as you take his coffee order. genre . fluff

jungwon x gn reader (this is a gift so the name veena is used once hehe)

notes . nyangi dearest i hope you enjoy <3 i changed the whole plot of this like ten million times but i decided on him just being an idiot in love bc he is too cute @nyangified ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

jungwon has always thought of himself to be calm and confident in how he speaks and acts, but now, he's not so sure.

two of his friends, sunghoon and jake, lived up to half of their dream and finally opened a coffee shop together. was jay behind the process of it all? most definitely. but it's still theirs and they claim it very proud.

they've been telling jungwon to come in almost every day now, so he can "taste heaven" but the phrase alone made his want in going a zero.

but now that he thinks about it, he feels like a horrible friend. he should be supporting them, right? before he even thinks about how coffee never sits well with him he's on his way.

the bells on the door jingle as he walks in. sunghoon glances over and immediately puts his hands on his hips and calls out, "a lost kitten? are you here for some milk?" jungwon scoffs and goes to leave until jake claps happily and smiles as bright as the sun; jungwon sighs in defeat and walks back in.

"i'm here to support jake, do you hear me?" jungwon points a finger at sunghoon and he puts his hands up in surrender, going back to making drinks.

while he's distracted looking around the place he doesn't notice you standing at the register. he turns his head to look at the menu and for the first time, his most annoying friend sees him speechless.

sunghoon only sighs at his young friend in endearment and minds his business. he loves jungwon, and after working with you for some time, he’s grown to adore you too. him and jake have made plans on setting you up with jungwon like the best matchmakers ever but, he guesses you’re already ahead of him.

jungwon swallows harshly and walks up to order. "hi. can i get uh... um, a coffee? please?" his shoulders tense and eyes shut immediately. he already hears his friends choked laughter, he will not acknowledge them. "sorry. an iced vanilla latte with uh, almond milk.. my stomach doesn't take regular milk well haha it's like, really bad." oh my god.

"no problem!" your smile is going to make him word vomit even more. "i'm the same way actually, i get it. what size would you like?"  "a medium pretty please."

.

he stands distraught by the counter as sunghoon makes his drink in tears. jake comes up and pats his back a few times, "i appreciate you coming in won. but oh my god, maybe you shouldn't have." he leans his head into jungwons shoulder and laughs until he's hiccuping. he really can't wait for niki to get ahold of this information.

"hey sunghoon, can i see his drink?" you whisper to him with a sharpie. "knock yourself out." he leaves to crowd a mourning jungwon and you write a message on his cup,  ' visit us more!! jake and sunghoon would like it, i would too :) ♡ '

jake and sunghoon go back to their coffee shop duties and he steps up to take his drink from you. "thank you," he glances at the note, "oh. sure, i'll definitely come back. and i will probably keep this cup forever."

.

jungwon coming in becomes a daily thing now. he hates the way coffee makes him feel, but the way you smile and call the most simple drink the “jungwon special”, he lets his stomach suffer. and his bank account.

today he ordered two drinks. you think you’re good enough friends now to ask who it’s for but honestly you didn’t think you wanted to know. you liked his dimples that came out when he slipped on his words, the way his eyes only fixate on you even when his best friends are right there, the way he consistently comes in early and makes your mornings.

and he’s ordering two drinks, the second being so specific without looking at a note or text, he must really like this person. you can only nod and say your usual, “right away loyal customer” maybe he isn’t as loyal as you wished. does he look at other people-

“veena? um.. last week you mentioned this crazy order you like. i made a song in my head to not forget it, i’m assuming thats why you looked at me a certain way. anyway. this is for you.” he shakily hands you the drink back after discreetly writing his own note on it. he’s hoping it was discreet.

you frown unknowingly and whisper the note out loud, ‘ please keep making me coffee forever, no one does the jungwon special like you. oh wow .. this is embarrassing im sorry, i really just wanted to ask for a date ㅠㅠ ’

“yes, date. yes.” you look up at him happily and a little shocked. he jumps up and walks to the counter and sets his drink down, cupping both of your cheeks with his freezing hands. “this is the best day of my life. i’m sorry my hands are wet um, i was nervous you’d say no. oh i’m a mess i’m sorry.” you smile regardless and pull his hands off to hold them, “i’m happy jungwon, so happy. i promise to make you coffee forever.”

[banquetwriter]

Please do a part 2 to the Johnnie fix u just posted !

୨୧ Cinnamon pt:2 ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡

summary: ʚ A part two to cinnamon ɞ

Words: 1034

An: this was in reference to: cinnamon go check it out since this is part two! This turned out so bad I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make a part two to this so I'm a lil upset lol

It was the day after the party, you weren't too hungover by any means, just a little sick feeling in the morning but that had passed hours ago. You had also left the party early deciding it wasn't fair to torture yourself with Johnnie all night long.

You were taking a slow sip of your drink and scrolling around Pinterest when an Instagram DM from Johnnie popped up on your phone. Your eyebrow shot up tapping the notification.

J: ‘Hey, you left that party quickly last night. Sure you're doing ok?’

You smiled briefly at his message. You set your drink down while sitting up to reply.

‘Haha yeah I’m all good just got a little overwhelmed that's all :)’

You sent your message and decided to put your phone down. You didn't want to wait around for his reply, that was only going to cause you to get even more attached to someone who didn't like you. You turned the TV on and put on one of your favorite shows.

You say most of an episode is for caving and checking for a text back. Sure enough, that was a notification from the world's favorite emo boy. You tap on it unlocking your phone.

J: ‘oh ok. I'm always here if you need to talk or anything like that. Can I ask what made you so overwhelmed?’ he asked. You felt that familiar heartbeat increase as you re-read his message over and over again.

‘It was just someone I didn't wanna be around for that long. It wasn't in a bad way, I just needed a break from someone.’ you replied. You Weren't sure why you couldn't just lie to him but you couldn't.

You hoped he would take your words and leave you be, but as fate would have it… he doesn't. J: ‘Was it me?’ he asks. You're not sure how to respond, you suppose it would be time to talk this out as the opportunity presented itself.

‘We can talk sometime in person, ok? Are you free at all this week?’ you sent back, anxiety creeping its way through your whole body in waves. This wasn't right. We shouldn't meet.

Was there a possibility that Johnnie actually liked you? No. Right? You Weren't sure at this point. People who like someone check in on them. Maybe he DID like you just not how you want him to.

Your heart nearly exploded when you heard another text go through. J: ‘Im free today’ your heart was pounding so fast. Would you even have the courage to meet today in the first place.

It's better to get the bandage ripped off sooner than later. ‘Works for me lets get dinner?’ you sent the message feeling like you were going to vomit. You wanted to get all ready for him, look your best.

But you knew you shouldn't do that. He needed this from you at your most true self. Sweatpants and all. He agreed and you both arranged plans to meet in only four hours.

Four hours is a lot of time to wait for something but it felt even longer as you checked the clock every five minutes to see if it was time or not. But after all your waiting it was finally time to leave.

You pulled up to this place and Johnnie was already standing outside. You both shuffle around each other awkwardly for a moment before you tell him to sit down. You choose a spot outside and sit down.

The wind blows on both of you as it chills you to the bone. “So I did leave because of you but, that sounds so scary and mean.” you start. He just stared at you for a moment “ok.” was all he said, his voice wavering.

“It's because I really like you. And I know this sounds immature and silly but when you didn't talk to me at the party I felt so alone. I thought you might have liked me too and I don't know. I just needed to leave after you gave me water.” you confessed to him.

It all felt so silly now. Leaving a party because a boy didn't like you. He doesn't say anything and again your instinct is to just run, as fast and as far as you can. Johnnie doesn't let that happen this time.

As soon as you stand up his arm reaches out for you. You stop at his contact. “Y/n I definitely like you, don't worry,” he said as you slowly sat back down. You hold his eyes before eventually feeling the feeling of shame creep back in.

“Sorry,” you mumble slowly. “I thought you left because I made you uncomfortable or something,” he said, the wind blowing again. Your heart was soaring at his words. “No, I was just high and overwhelmed,” you said looking down at his hand that was still holding your arm.

“Oh right. Well, I definitely like you, I don't talk to people I don't like this much,” he said, causing both of you to giggle slightly. “I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I just got so scared,” you said through a pitiful laugh.

“It's ok we all get scared of something. I just can't ever imagine someone like you liking someone like me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you mean? You're so fucking funny and nice Johnnie of course I like you,” you say with a smile.

“Thanks but I don't believe you. It's just that you're so funny, smart, and… pretty. I don't know how I can compare.” he said looking down. “Johnnie, that's how I feel about you,” you said leaning towards him.

“We should hang out sometime,” he said, unfortunately removing his hand from your arm to fix his hair. “We’re hanging out right now,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “No, I mean like on a date?” he says looking up at you through his hair. “You wanna take me on a date?” you whisper leaning further towards him.

“Y-yes we should go on a date,” he said again, adjusting his hair. “Ok let's go on a date then.”

“OK?”

“Ok.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey! I saw requests are open :D

Can I request Lee!Geto and Ler!Gojo where Geto pranks gojo in some kinda way and gojo seeks revenge?

Thank you! <3

AHHH THE BOYS! :D God I love Gojo and Geto so much! And an opportunity to write Lee!Geto! :D I decided instead of a prank to go with "Geto tried to help and it backfired" for this fic! I hope you like it :3

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @chibisstuff

“That’s why it’s so important to put up a veil. Who knows what kind of antics the public could have witnessed…”

Gah, he was on a roll today. Geto tried not to roll his eyes as Masamichi lectured them from one end of the earth to the next about basic protocol. While their teacher meant well, he was notoriously long-winded.

To his far right, Shoko was barely awake, eyes half-lidded and fingers twitching for a cigarette. She shared a look of misery with him behind Gojo’s back when their teacher turned away.

And Gojo…

Oh that Gojo.

The reason they were even receiving a lecture right now sat between them, shoulders slumped with shame and a sheepish smile to match. At least- that’s what it looked like to Masamichi. If one looked closer, you could see the dull look in Gojo’s eyes. His breaths were slow and rhythmic, proving Geto’s suspicion that he was asleep.

This motherfu-

“Honestly, this is the third time you three forgot the veil…” Masamichi was looking at them again, taking off his glasses as he rubbed the ball of stress forming along his nose bridge. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

The question was more so aimed at Gojo. This would be the part where he’d jazz up some sort of verbal word vomit that pacified the older man and got them out.

And yet- Gojo was sitting there sleeping!

“We’re sorry, Mr. Masamichi. We’ll remember next time, promise.” Shoko tried for them, but Geto knew it would only do so much. Part of him wanted Gojo to be caught sleeping; serves him right for getting them stuck here to begin with.

Alas- Gojo caught sleeping likely meant more lecturing. He had the makings of fancy cup ramen waiting for him back home and he was not about to let Gojo ruin his evening meal.

“We promise sir.” Geto added as Shoko laid it on thick, reaching his hand out behind Gojo towards his socked foot. “Right Satoru?”

A quick scratch- just enough to get him alert. He scratched quickly up the length of his foot.

“AH!” Gojo positively FLAILED, startling so badly he spooked Shoko. “God, would you STOP!” He cried, turning to-

Masamichi was crouched before him, an unamused brow raised. “Stop what, exactly Satoru?”

Gojo was frozen, glasses drooping and eyes wide. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, the tops of his cheekbones flushing a soft pink. “E-Erm…that wasn’t aimed at you, sir.”

“Hm. Ieiri, Geto; head on home. I need to speak to Gojo a little longer.”

“Sir-” Geto began, but Shoko was faster, grabbing his arm with a nod.

“Yes sir. We’ll call you, Sato.” She dragged Geto with her, her free hand reaching for her cigarettes. “See you later.”

“Satoru-” Geto called back, meeting his eyes before the door shut. They were flat, cold. A single word held within.

Revenge.

~~~

He should have gone home.

The additional lecture Satoru got wasn’t long, but the wait felt like lightyears. Geto tried for casualness as he leaned against the school gates, texting Shoko occasionally. She would have waited for him too, but she had plans that evening- leaving the green haired teen to wait for his fate alone.

How exactly was he going to approach this? Apologize? Joke about it? It wasn’t as if he and Gojo hadn’t had their fights and such before. Really- this one likely would end fine as well.

Was it the look on Gojo’s face? He was so…

The doors opened. Geto looked over at the pale haired teen shrugging on his bag. When Gojo reached the top steps, he paused, meeting his eyes. His expression was carefully blank- so was Geto’s.

Silence.

“Start running.” Was all Gojo said next.

~~~

Geto never made it to his apartment.

“Stay away! Stay ba-ACK!” Keys flew into the nearby shrubbery as Geto was attacked from behind, tumbling to the ground. It wasn’t until they reached his street did Gojo truly start chasing him. “Satoru please!”

“You’re a real shit, you know that?” Ground became sky as he was turned onto his back, Gojo’s fiery gaze boring into him. “You could have tapped me awake, but nooooo! You just had to tickle my foot!”

“I didn’t know you were that ticklish!” Geto cried in defense, already laughing as his hands were grabbed and raised. “Besides, you got us in that mess! You don’t get the right to sleep through it!”

“Details! You’re done for!” Gojo growled dramatically, raising his hand high. When he brought it down…

“AHA!” Geto choked out a laugh before slamming his mouth shut, shaking his head at the feeling. Gojo’s fingers were on his upper ribs, kneading into the spot with reckless abandon. “D-Don’t you da-are!”

“Oh I dare. You dared earlier; why the sudden reluctance?” Gojo teased, his fierce glare melting into a mischievous grin near instantly. “Too ticklish, Suguru?”

Geto tried to glare, but any menace it held vanished when those dastardly fingers began to descend. “S-Satoru! I’ll get you ba-ack!”

“Yeah?” Gojo paused his tickles, hands hovering over Geto’s hips. “You really mean that?”

Geto took a sharp breath in, ready to declare his revenge. Instead- the next sound to come out of his mouth was a booming laugh. Then another and another!

He really shouldn’t try to talk when Gojo tickles him.

“Ooo, what happened? What were you gonna say, Suguru?” Gojo taunted, voice cut out from the loud cackles Geto released upon his hips getting kneaded. “What happened to getting me back, huh?”

“Gohoohhoohohohohjohohohohohoho you soohohohohn of a bihiihihihihihiihtch! Geahhahahah gehhehehhet ohohohohohoff!” Geto writhed in the grass, cheeks pink as he laughed and snorted beneath his diabolical friend. He tried to grab Gojo’s hands, but the jerk was like a worm; moving fast and blocking all his attempts.

With nothing to lose, he shot his hands out towards Gojo’s sides, hoping a few sharp pokes to the ribs would get him to back off.

“Ah ah ah!” Gojo teased, bringing his hands up and into Geto’s armpits, sending the other flailing backwards. “It’s MY time to tickle. You can have yours later.”

“WHEHEHEHEHEHN’S THAHHAHAHHAT? AHEHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!” Damn Gojo! And damn his own body for being so sensitive! He pressed his arms to his sides so tightly he thought he’d bruise, kicking up grass and dirt behind them as he wheezed in mirth. “GOOHOHOOHJO PLEAHHAHAHHASE!”

“Please…?” Gojo raised a brow, waiting.

“IIHIHIHIM SHAHAHAHHAHAHHARRY!”

“For?”

“TIHIHIHIIHICKLING YOOHOHOHOHOHU!”

“Hmm…are you reeeeallly sorry?” Gojo leaned in so they were forehead to forehead, blue eyes boring into his misty ones. The tickles crept back to his ribs, lessening his mirthful fits to streams of giggles. “Truly, genuinely, really sorry?”

“Yehehehehhes! Yehehehhehes, now stahhahap!” Geto pleaded, tapping at Gojo’s arm rapidly. His limit had been reached.

“Hmm…” Gojo did stop, hands still on his sides for mock anticipation before he laughed, sitting up and rolling off. “Okay. I guess I can forgive you for now.”

“Guehehehess?” Geto tried to glare, but Gojo’s cheeky grin ruined any menace he had within. Laughing, he tossed a handful of grass in his face before sitting up, redoing his hair. “You do realize if Mr. Masamichi caught you sleeping, we'd be in A LOT more trouble then we were, right?”

“I couldn’t help it! He goes on and on and on…” Gojo barely thought down a yawn talking about it. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Mine’s too far.”

“Fine. I suppose the dog house could fit you.” Geto snickered, laughing more when Gojo slapped his arm. “Love you too.”

“Damn right.” Gojo hopped up, pulling Geto with him as they began their trek to their destination, joking and laughing the entire time.

Thanks for reading!

[inscrutable-shadow]

only then i am human (only then i am clean) - part one

contains: mild horniness, homoerotic blood drinking, minor nausea (no vomiting), swearing, gore, a disgusting amount of gay pining, whumptober 2023 days 11, 20, and 30 (animal trap, "you will regret touching them," bridal carry)

summary: The Culling War is over, and Thanatos is not the same.

Mariano doesn't have a same to go back to.

Bastian just hopes that he won't have to kill Thanatos when the vampire's ravenous hunger finally takes over.

It's been far too long since Thanatos has had a good meal, after all, and he loves getting himself in hot water.

beginning notes: whoo-wee! i started this as a whumptober fill, and it still is that, but it’s also so, so much more than that now. four times the size and now part of a series i hope to continue in the coming months. so many thanks to @crash-bump-bring-the-whump for letting me borrow his characters, fill his dms with screaming and gay shenanigans at all hours, and for betaing! i have so much more planned for our boys after this so stay tuned :)

also available on ao3! even though i've broken the fic into two, this section is 7.3k words so you might enjoy it more there. (plus you get the ending a day early)

Thanatos was rather surprised at how much fun he was having. When Madame Nocta had initially shown him his redistricting papers, he’d had to step out of the room to stop the choking panic from clawing at his insides. The image of his old life, of returning to his job and his apartment and his lover after so long away, had been the only thing keeping him going for so long that the idea of changing that image made him sick. “It’ll be quiet,” she’d assured him. “No one will know what you are. You can relax, recover. It will be good for you.” Thanatos hadn’t believed her, but now, as the damp wind ruffled his hair and sent ripples over the nearby lake, he was forced to admit this world was rather quaint.

He could almost convince himself it was just like home, at least, before the “engine of progress” had compressed every ounce of magic from the land. The countryside was littered with small villages of wood and stone instead of towering metropoles of metal and glass. The air held none of the heavy odour of burning oil; if anything, it crackled and pulsed with magic in the way the ancient forests had when the fae still inhabited them. If it weren’t for the various ruins that evoked to those in the know the aura of an advanced society, he would have believed it was the ninth century again. Wandering from place to place, offering his eyes, his voice, and his stories to anyone who could use him in exchange for a few coins, and flirting with people in taverns, it was quite akin to the way he’d lived before he’d met the Archfey. One could almost call it idyllic.

“Hey, Thanatos! There you are,” a voice called from behind him, and he turned to see Bastian pushing through the market crowd toward him. “Thought I’d lost you for a bit. Crowd too much for you?”

There was one major difference between this world and his own, and here was a prime example of it: one could tell just by looking that Bastian was a dragon. If the prismatic hair and the horns weren’t a dead giveaway, the shimmering scales certainly were. He wasn’t the only one, either. A vampire blended right in among the varying peoples of this world, and Thanatos didn’t even bother to wear the glasses that obscured his eye color and slitted pupils anymore. He still became rather on edge in the market crowds, but even that he was doing much better with than he had a month ago. He’d been able to drift from stall to stall with the crowd for almost an hour before he’d felt claustrophobic.

Thanatos nodded acknowledgement of Bastian’s presence and alighted from the fencepost. “I just needed some air. Find everything you wanted?” If he recalled correctly, they were supposed to be replenishing supplies after an unfortunate encounter with a river (that had not at all been Thanatos’s fault).

Bastian only shrugged. “He’s the one shopping. Weather’s turning. Ought to get back together with Mariano and head out before it gets too bright for you.”

The sun here burned much brighter than Thanatos was used to, and even cloudy days pricked uncomfortably at his skin. The locals had been kind to him, though, and no one had hesitated to offer him shelter or clothing or food that he inevitably had to refuse. The hat that he was wearing and had reinforced with a layer of Shadow had been forced upon him by a kindly old woman who had noticed his discomfort while he was carrying her shopping for her on a not-so-cloudy afternoon. She couldn’t have known that his refusal to put a square millimetre of exposed skin in direct sunlight was an aversion to screaming immolation and subsequent death, but she’d pushed her hat onto his head anyway, and called him a sweet young man who needed to take better care of himself. That sort of behaviour had by far been the norm, and for that, he was grateful.

“That little basket all you’re getting?” Bastian asked, edging a hand under the fabric cover, but pulling it back when Thanatos swatted at it.

“The two of you have been very kind. I thought that perhaps I could repay the favour by taking care of dinner for tonight.” It had been a long while since he’d had to cook anything, but he still remembered some of the things his mother had taught him, oh so long ago, and he felt the need to provide something other than diverting conversation for once.

Bastian walked ahead of him in the crowd, forging a less constricted path for Thanatos to follow as the pair threaded their way back to the meeting point. “You don’t even eat. How’re you gonna know if it’s any good?”

“I’ll just have to have you taste for me.”

“Sure thing.” The dragon grinned in that toothy way of his, and Thanatos allowed himself a small one in return.

He’d come out to the two of them during the second week. Not about his taste for men: the reality of that oozed from his pores and was apparent in every movement. The wistful stares he threw at every young man who looked even a bit like the Archfey left little room for doubt. About his taste for blood. Thanatos had violated Clandestine Accord and clued two mortals in on the fact that he was a vampire. It hadn’t phased them at all. There were very few things that could rattle Mariano, and Bastian was a dragon. A vampire wasn’t a threat, and so he didn’t care. Thanatos had felt silly for even being slightly anxious about it. The way they looked at each other, talked to each other, to him, he just knew. They’d felt safe. Thanatos hadn’t felt safe in decades. Not since the Culling War.

Twenty-five years of paranoia had turned an easygoing, charismatic Thanatos into a nervous wreck of a man who jumped at every shadow. He’d heard Tenebrus and the Council talking about him: the psychological effects of his job had made him nearly useless at it, and they were planning to replace him. The war had ended before they had the chance, but still. He knew he wasn’t the same man his Archfey had fallen in love with. That thought alone made him want to shatter into a thousand porcelain fragments, but living here had started to fill in the jagged gouges the war had left on his soul. The people were kinder, didn’t treat him like a monster even when they couldn’t know he was one. (Not like home. On Earth Four, even the slightest deviation from the norm had put him at risk of discovery.) He wasn’t constantly on the defensive anymore.

The crowd opened up a bit, and he could now see slightly further ahead. Ah, there was Mariano. His dark hair rose up above most of the bobbing heads of the market-goers, and the soft lines of his face were broken slightly by a brow furrowed in concentration. Comparing products, perhaps? He’s rather particular about the supplies. He was still deep in discussion with a shopkeeper, though from the amount he was carrying, it seemed as if he must be nearly done with his shopping. “I’ll be right back, found something I want to pick up,” Bastian leaned down to whisper in his ear, melting into the crowd again before Thanatos could even respond. He felt a bit nervous in the crowd by himself, but he could see Mariano, at least, and the hat would probably make him easy enough to find again. He found a quiet spot between two stalls, where he was offered a seat and an apple by an old woman selling fruit. With a smile, he accepted the former, but of course not the latter.

The market had been set up in the hollow shell of some ancient building, and most of the shops on this side of the square were peddling foodstuffs of some kind, set up on the raised ground on either side of the makeshift thoroughfare created by the terrain. This particular ruin gave Thanatos the nagging sensation that he was late to catch a train. He supposed it’d be a long time before he saw another train, given his reassignment. It would have been strange to go back to his Earth after a quarter-century of war, anyhow, let alone live in the cottage without the Archfey. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to fit himself back into a fast-paced mortal society now that he’d had the fear of other people forcibly drilled into him. There hadn’t been a moment in the last decade or so when he hadn’t been acutely wary of other vampires out to give him a glowing recommendation to the nearest Reaper. Relax, Than. There aren’t any other vampires in this area, he reminded himself. He had a hundred miles of clearance before he encroached on anyone else’s hunting grounds. Anyone who wanted to mess with him would have Mariano to contend with, anyhow. No one had got through him yet.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

The laugh was like birdsong, and it came from a girl, about nineteen, behind the fruit stand, helping the old woman set out more goods. “You were staring, mister. Do you like the hairpin? My mother made it for me.” Like most of the denizens here, her skin was a deep ochre, with matching eyes that held a mischievous smile and an effortless charm.

He had been staring; he realised. The pin was an array of jasmine-like blooms on a fastening of ebony and amethyst. It looked like something the Archfey would have worn, not in the early days of their relationship when they’d been doing the courtship dance of fey prince and vampire, no, this was something ae would have worn to a coffeehouse date or to the cinema, a coy reminder of the power that lurked behind the mortal disguise. Thanatos summoned up a smile and gave a wry chuckle, hoping his expression didn’t seem tortured. “You remind me of someone, that’s all.” Oh. It was easier than he’d expected to become the charming vampire once again. Maybe he really was getting better.

The girl returned his smile. “Someone you like?” She turned away a little, then met his eyes again.

“Someone I love.”

The grief must have shown through in his eyes for a moment, because the girl’s smile turned sad. “What happened to them?”

He hesitated, deciding how much of his pain was worth pouring out to a stranger. “Gone. Said they would return, but, well. I’ve had to move, and I fear we may never be reunited.” His gaze drifted away toward the shifting clouds. Bastian was right. The weather would clear up soon.

“Take it then,” she said, and his brow furrowed as his eyes returned to look at her. She took his hand in hers and pressed the pin into it. “My mother made it as a good-luck charm. Maybe it will bring the two of you back together.”

Why would she give something like that to a stranger? Part of him wondered if it might be some sort of trap, but he pushed the thought away. Humans weren’t like vampires. Every gesture of goodwill wasn’t a secret power play with them. Sometimes they did these things on a whim, or even out of kindness. It was a foolish thing for her to do, though, so he demurred. “Oh, miss, I couldn’t possibly take such a precious heirloom—”

“Surely you won’t refuse a gift,” she countered, and the expression of mischief on her face melted the last of the ice in his heart. Maybe things truly were looking up.

Thanatos bowed. “Then I shall graciously accept. However,” he added, setting his basket down for a moment, “allow me to return the favour. A charm for a charm. My partner gave this to me a long time ago. It, too, is good luck. May it bring you winds of fortune.” He removed the earring from his right ear, a dangle shaped vaguely like a wreath. In truth, it was a ritual sigil, one of the Archfey’s smallest and subtlest protection blessings. Woven directly from aer magic into metal, he’d worn it for almost two hundred years, and he credited his continued existence a significant amount to the Archfey’s protection rather than any qualities he himself possessed. For a moment, he questioned why he would give away something so precious on a whim, but the girl’s gift had struck a chord with him, made him feel as if the dark days might be over. That was worth the loss of the charm.

The young woman accepted the earring and worked into her own ear, and the two of them shared a smile, and a laugh, and a blush. One couldn’t fault Thanatos for finding comfort in the sweet moment, but of course, the universe saw fit to punish him for allowing himself to relax. “The fuck you think you’re doing, dipshit?” a gruff voice called from behind him. And here we go.

He went for his usual disarming smile. “Ah, you must be the boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” the young lady corrected mildly. Of course he was.

The fiancé in question wasted no time in invading Thanatos’s personal space. “You gotta be stupid to chat up another man’s girl like that.” He folded his arms, probably trying to look intimidating. It was sort of working.

Thanatos’s eyebrows raised. “If that’s what you think flirting looks like, my condolences to your lady-love. I was nothing more than cordial. Aren’t you just the strapping young man though,” he purred. “I cannot fault the lady’s taste.” Now that was flirting. The tried-and-true Thanatos method of getting out of this sort of tight spot was to play up his flamboyance until their discomfort outweighed their indignation. “Baffle them with his bullshit,” as it were. It usually worked long enough for him to work out some method of escape.

“Leave it, Javier. He’s not bothering me. We were just talking,” the girl said, annoyed.

Javier was not dissuaded. “I don’t want random guys feeling like they can talk to you, Violetta. And that didn’t look like talking.”

Thanatos saw this as a chance to cut back in. “I assure you, I have no interest in absconding with your sweetheart. My intentions with her were purely platonic, for my tastes lie elsewhere, if you take my meaning.”

From the way Javier picked him up by his collar, Thanatos got the idea that he might not have understood some of those words. “Are you saying you don’t think she’s pretty? Take it back right now!”

Oh, by the celestial river… Annoyance ignited in Thanatos’s chest, and he was firing back before he could think about it. “I didn’t say she wasn’t pretty, you oaf. I said I was fucking gay! By the Divines, humans grow ever more stupid. I’m married too, if it matters—”

“Is there a problem here?” Oh, thank fuck. Mariano, his knight in shining armour once again. Part of him orchestrated these scenarios intentionally just to have a chance to see the mage work. Bastian was hanging back, presumably to watch the show. He gave Thanatos a little wave and a grin and appeared to have found himself some sort of drink. Typical Bastian.

Javier looked Mariano up and down. Tall and broad, the dark-skinned mage certainly carried his share of scars, from the clearly deliberate burns on his arms to the blade-mark under his jawline. Thanatos thought it added charm to the soft lines of Mariano’s face, especially when he smiled, which was often if Thanatos had anything to do with it. He was not smiling now. Mariano’s default expression was blank, unreadable, which combined with the silver-white pact rings around his dark irises and his subtle but not-insignificant musculature lent him quite the imposing air. Even behind the dark-rimmed glasses, it was clear that Mariano was not a man to be trifled with.

Undeterred, likely due to a lack of basic survival instinct, Javier pressed on. “Sure is. Your friend here’s about to eat shit for fucking with my girl. Unless you’d like to eat it for him?” Now, that was borderline suicidal. If he hadn’t known Mariano as well as he did, Thanatos would have expected a bloodbath.

Mariano looked up at Thanatos, still dangling in the air with an expression that read “I’m sorry, please save me again.” He didn’t speak, just removed his casting dagger from his belt, held it up, and ignited the blade, his war mage’s magic shooting up through the hilt and heating the metal until it glowed. A single eyebrow shifted, challenging Javier to try him.

“You really don’t want to fight him,” Thanatos supplied, helpfully.

Javier looked as if he might try it anyway, but Violetta read the situation correctly. Smart girl. “Let’s just go, Javier. I’m fine, it’s not worth it!” she implored, pulling on his arm.

A moment’s hesitation, then the brute relented. “Whatever,” he spat, and threw Thanatos down. The vampire sat down hard in the dirt, hat askew, but that was better than having his neck wrung on what had otherwise been a fairly pleasant afternoon. His basket was down here too, fortunately undamaged. “Let’s go, Violetta.” Javier stalked off, pushing through the crowd.

Thanatos let out a heavy sigh of relief. He took the hand Mariano stretched down toward him and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. “You okay?” Mariano asked, observing his slanted hat and open collar. Thanatos felt the heat rising in his face.

He cleared his throat. “Quite all right, thanks to you, once again. Just in time, too.” He had to stop doing this. As entertaining as it was to be rescued time and time again, the risk to his person was too high. Mariano might save him, but not necessarily before he was seriously damaged.

“You have to stop doing this, I’m not always going to show up right when you need me, you know.” Mariano picked up the basket from the ground and handed it to Thanatos, who suddenly thought he might repeat the whole procedure again tomorrow.

“Oh, but you do it so well! The spectacle, the cinema! You play quite the dashing hero,” he enthused, attempting to distract from how hot he suddenly felt under his silk shirt.

Mariano looked away, probably looking for his dragon in the crowd. It was difficult to tell with Mariano, but Thanatos got the idea he might have said something wrong. Fortunately for him, Bastian returned, amused as usual. “Thought you were going to teach him a lesson. Too bad you let him get away.”

“Wasn’t worth it.” Mariano shrugged. “He was just a blowhard, and I’m sure Than started it, anyway.” He accepted his bag back from Bastian and instinctively sorted through it, as was his habit.

“I’m sure I resent that remark!” Thanatos spluttered, but before he could really get going with his retort, Violetta pushed her way back through the crowd toward them.

“I’m sorry about him. You didn’t deserve that. I should go, but here, take this. For your friend with the pretty eyes.” She pressed a meat bun into his hand and vanished again.

Thanatos blinked in momentary confusion, then held the pastry out to Mariano, who also seemed confused. “Me?”

“I think it’s relatively clear she didn’t mean Bastian. No offense meant, of course.”

Bastian grinned. “None taken. Eat it, Mariano, looks good. If you won’t, I will.”

“But your eyes-” Mariano began, meaning Thanatos’s crimson ones rather than Bastian’s white-silver.

“Oh? Taken your fancy, have they?” It came out more flirtatious than he’d intended, he was having trouble shaking off the performance. “Alluring as they may be, I already have a gift from the lady, and I can’t eat it anyhow. Take the bread and the compliment, mortal mage.” One would have to be blind to fail to acknowledge that Mariano was attractive, in Thanatos’s opinion, but Mariano didn’t seem to process it the same way.

“I- okay.” He didn’t seem convinced, but he always looked like that.

Better to just distract him, then. “Good show, Mariano. Another innocent man rescued, another reward earned. Let’s move on before I am reduced to ash, eh?” That was something he was actually worried about, not just a diversionary tactic. The clouds were moving uncomfortably quickly, hurried on by the wind.

“Wouldn’t want to have to scoop him up off of the ground. That’d take ages,” Bastian joked. Mariano laughed, and all was right with the world again.

#

As Bastian had predicted, the sky was nearly clear when the sun finally slipped below the horizon. The particular corner of the glade where they had built the fire was sufficiently shaded for Thanatos not to have to focus on protecting himself from the light. Not that he had much else to do than leaf through his well-worn copy of Theogonia, which had managed to survive the war tucked into a corner of his briefcase. He didn’t need to read the pages anymore, so many times had he been over these same words in the two thousand years since this particular edition had been published, but turning the leaves and skimming the familiar passages was of comfort to him, a habit he’d developed to unwind after a long day. The woods were quiet except for the soft chirping of insects and the scrape of Mariano’s knife against the whetstone.

“Is it done yet?” This was the fourth time Bastian had asked in the last hour. Thanatos didn’t blame him. The tantalising aroma of slow-cooked meat rising from the stew pot filled the air and stimulated the appetite. His sense of smell had shifted since becoming a vampire, but if one thing had remained the same, the scent still took him back to his childhood, helping his mother by the stove.

“Not quite.” Thanatos gave the pot a stir and tested the meat with the spoon. “About ten more minutes.”

Bastian groaned. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“No, ten minutes ago I said twenty minutes.”

“Fifteen,” said Mariano, inspecting the blade’s edge in the firelight.

“Hm?” It was the first time Mariano had spoken in an hour or so. Thanatos hadn’t even known he was listening.

The scraping resumed. “You said fifteen minutes. Ten minutes ago.”

“Did I?” Thanatos couldn’t recall, but if Mariano thought so, it must be true.

“Yeah.” There was a beat of silence, and then the rustle of a page and the scrape of the whetstone.

The pot simmered happily despite Bastian’s impatient scrutiny. “Can’t we just eat it now?”

Mariano laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait, Bastian. We can’t all eat raw meat, you know. Though maybe next time pick something that doesn’t take as long, Than.”

Thanatos gave a snort of mock-indignation. “Genius cannot be rushed, mortal mage. This is an heirloom recipe passed down to me by my mother.” They’d had servants to cook for them, of course. A magistrate’s wife would never have been expected to do that sort of thing, but Thanatos’s mother had loved every part of the process from selecting ingredients to serving. She’d taught him to cut vegetables and to know when meat was tender. It was incredibly rare for him to need to use those skills, but his hands knew what to do. In a way, it was as if his mother was still alive.

True to his estimate, the stew was ready in about ten minutes. Bastian would have been happy to eat the meat before it was cooked, and if Thanatos was careful, he could sip at the tomato base without making himself ill, but it was Mariano’s opinion that mattered.

Fortunately, the mage’s first spoonful earned a smile. “It’s good!”

Thanatos sighed with relief. “I’m glad you find it so. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had the occasion to cook, you understand.”

“It doesn’t show. It’s just too bad you can’t taste it,” Mariano said, attacking another spoonful. That dispelled the last of Thanatos’s worries that he was just saying it to be nice. Even if that would have been out of character for someone so straightforward, the apprehension was habitual.

“Oh, I remember it well enough. Enjoy it in my stead.”

“Doesn’t it make you hungry, watching other people eat?” Bastian mused, though most of his attention was caught up in finding more bits of tender meat to fish out of the stew, which Thanatos took as a victory.

He shrugged. “Mortal food is, at best, unappetizing to me at this point. My senses of taste and smell are so altered that it doesn’t register to my mind as consumable.” He was hungry, though, he realised. It had been three days since he’d eaten last: though he’d gone out yesterday and the day before, he’d been unlucky and had found no one else wandering the wilds.

House Iuventae contracts rarely came with non-sapient sustenance clauses. The Shadow could tell the difference, and if Thanatos tried to cheat, it would punish him for it with days of nausea and cramps. It was for that reason that he preferred to eat every other day if he could. A human could survive a litre of blood loss much more easily than two or three. It looked as if he’d actually have to kill today if he didn’t want to lose control of himself later, though. He’d made peace with the concept millennia ago — or so he told himself, but drinking only prepared blood during the war had brought back a vague discomfort. Prudence told him to avoid specific details when discussing it with the others, regardless. He didn’t want to know what they’d truly think of him.

Oblivious to Thanatos’s introspection, Bastian had come up with a theory of his own. “But if you dried it out or whatever, made it into flour, couldn’t you make, say, blood bread or some shit like that?”

“Well, yes, actually. House Nocta does extensive research on alternative ways to prepare blood. Whether it’s edible depends on one’s specific contract. I have a special provision that allows me to consume most liquids, but anything solid makes me ill, blood-based or otherwise.” He didn’t regret it. He was happy to never taste cake again in exchange for still being able to drink wine. The stew he was sipping at was still rather flavourless, though.

“It’s so interesting that your people have found different ways to work with your condition,” said Mariano.

Was it? Thanatos had never thought so. “Necessity is the mother of invention. But enough about vampires. Shall I read you out a story tonight?”

This got Bastian’s attention. “Do the one with the king and the wild man. I like that one.”

“Ah, yes, the epic of Gilgamesh.” He didn’t have a copy of that one in his carpetbag, but he could do the first hour or so from memory, and pick up the book from the Archfey’s later if he needed it. (If he could bear it. The sight of the empty house had made him feel hollow the last time he’d been.) He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and when next he opened them, his voice had changed to that of the orator. “This is one of the oldest stories in the world, about two thousand years older than me, even. Translated from the tablets of an ancient civilization, large segments of the story are missing, but what we do have tells the story of a mighty king and his quest to discover the secret of immortality. Let me tell you of a man who had seen everything, whom the god Anu had granted all knowledge, who had seen secrets and hidden things, even from the time before the Flood.”

As usual, his audience was rapt, caught up by his words and taken to a time five millennia in the past, when giants walked the earth. He’d go hunting later in the evening, once the magic of ancient fable faded to that of the sandman’s sleep.

#

Thanatos leaned against a tree and tied his hair up into a low ponytail. He’d left his travelling jacket back at the camp as well, leaving him in just his silk shirt, tie, and trousers. The less restricted his movement was, the better, and it had the benefit of making him look younger and less careworn. He hated this, really. When he talked and laughed with Mariano and Bastian, he could pretend that he was perfectly ordinary, still fully human, but when he hunted, it was clear that he was anything but. He wasn’t even an ambush predator like Tenebrus or most other hunting vampires, the sharpening of his senses and the way his night vision flattened everything into shades of grey save for outlines of delicious scarlet around everything with a heartbeat was of little use to him. All it did was remind him how little humanity was left in him.

In his element, Thanatos was a honey trap, an attractive, confident, charismatic man whom others would gladly follow into a dark alley for a tryst — with perhaps a little hypnotic encouragement. It fit his personality quite well, and he’d been able to carve a niche out for himself in both vampiric society and back on Earth Four. He was the very picture of a Iuventus, a man of words taken with alcohol and sex and other pleasures of the flesh. Or at least he had been. Before everything. He wanted very badly to return to feeling like that man. (If he thought about it too hard, he’d realise that luring people into the night to be devoured was also rather monstrous, so he didn’t.)

Right now, his priority was to return to the village and civilization. He was still getting back into the rhythm of pursuing prey, hunting instead of being hunted. It felt good to be out at night instead of having to worry about the sun surprising him. He decided to just try to enjoy the sense of freedom. Moving at a vampire’s speed, the wind singing through his hair, the moonlight lightly caressing his skin. All the horrors of the war: the daily grind of waking up, infiltrating a location, and running away that made him feel as if the dust and grime of the road soaked into his soul. That was all behind him now. He was an ordinary vampire now, without obligations or debts, free to eat and sleep and do whatever else his heart desired.

He really should have learned his lesson from earlier in the day. Stay on your toes, don’t stop to enjoy things. Don’t dare believe you’re out of the woods. You developed that paranoia for a reason. It was his own fault he was now lying on his back on the forest floor, his ankle held fast by a metal cord. One moment, he’d been darting through the trees trying to cover distance, and the next his head had hit a tree root and sent stars exploding behind his eyes. How long had he been unconscious? Ten seconds or ten minutes?

The impact alone might have killed a mortal, but Thanatos was merely concussed. Confusedly, he tried to pull his ankle free, and only succeeded in tightening the cable around the unfortunate limb. He would leave this part out whenever he told the story afterward, but in truth, he panicked. The idea of being trapped again, being captured again, was too much for him. His nails scrabbled for purchase in the soft loam, fighting to take him somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. His vision tinted red, his own too-loud heartbeat overwhelming his heightened senses. It felt as if it were another person who was thrashing and kicking, desperately trying to get away and only tightening the wire until it cut down to the bone.

He flinched at the snap of a branch, close, too close. “Well, well. Look what I got here. You ain’t a cougar, are you, buddy?” The voice was rough and belonged to a banjo-string sort of man now crouching three metres away.

This should have been his salvation. If Thanatos had been in his right mind, he would have turned on the charm and begged this man for help. But no. He’d been hungry too long; his Shadow was too close to the surface, converting his stress response from fawn to flight. He didn’t even know what small indication he must have picked up on, or perhaps he truly was the animal for which the trap had been originally purposed — but before he knew it, he’d drawn back toward the tree, hissing and baring his fangs.

The man only grinned. “Who-wee, ain’t you a feisty one? Hold on, red eyes, dark hair… You’re the fucker Javier was tellin’ us about, tryin’ to muscle up on his girl. Oh, he’s gonna love this. What kind of freak are you, anyway, with teeth like that?” Oh, fucking fantastic. They’d set him up on a world where people didn’t believe in vampires, and here he was screwing it up. “Eh, doesn’t matter. Wait ’til I get Javier and the guys. It’s gonna be a riot! Not like you have much of a choice but to sit, though, huh?” The man laughed cruelly and wandered off.

Alone again. Thanatos was used to how this sort of thing went by now. The hunter would come back with a group of men, and they would kick Thanatos around until they were tired of him, and then they would probably “kill” him and dump his body somewhere. He’d wait until they left and drag himself off to lick his wounds. It would be tolerable. He would just have to endure.

#

Mariano was pacing again. Bastian watched him for a few minutes, hoping he would come back to bed, but eventually gave up. “Something on your mind?”

“Than’s not back yet.” Bastian had to admit that was strange. Thanatos had never been gone for over four hours before. He’d usually slip away an hour or two after dusk and return just after midnight, blood-drunk and stifling hiccups. He should have been back three hours ago.

“You want to go after him?” Mariano nodded. Bastian had already got to his feet. He knew Mariano well enough by now to know he couldn’t just stand by. “It’s a lot of ground to cover. What if we don’t find him?”

“He probably went back to the village. We can start that way and fan out if we need to. It’s all well and good if he comes back on his own, but if he’s in trouble…” Mariano trailed off, his pensive gaze wandering toward the forest and taking his feet with it.

Bastian doused the fire and moved to catch up. “I’m sure he just fell asleep somewhere,” he commented, but knew as soon as the words were spoken that they were false. Than didn’t sleep anywhere he didn’t feel safe, and definitely not by accident. When they’d first met, the two of them had spent three days in a stalemate waiting for the other to fall asleep first. It had become clear by then that Thanatos wasn’t even slightly a threat, but Bastian had had to be the one to give up on the whole thing. Than hadn’t seemed like he could, even if he’d wanted to. Even utter exhaustion couldn’t convince his body to rest if it wasn’t safe.

No, it was much more likely that he’d managed to get himself into a situation he couldn’t get himself out of. At this point, it happened so often that Bastian wondered if Thanatos did it on purpose just to enjoy the privilege of having Mariano rescue him. Not that he could blame him. Mariano took on the “knight in shining armour” role quite handsomely, all shining blade and “put him down” and “let him go.” If the mage didn’t have such a tendency to hurt himself while taking care of others, it might have been worth trying himself, but he’d seen what lengths Mariano would push himself to in order to save him. If the idiot got himself killed, it’d be much less fun.

Tracking Thanatos wasn’t difficult. The vampire didn’t have any particular abilities that lent themselves to obscure a trail. He’d been moving quickly, but not particularly quietly. They heard the commotion up ahead before they saw it: a group of about ten people, talking and yelling and throwing spears, rocks, and crossbow bolts, all centred on a tree at the edge of the clearing. The place looked like a war zone. Broken branches littered the forest floor, some splashed with dark red. Black liquid pooled in some places and flowed in others, streaming down from holes in the surrounding trees that looked like they’d been punctured with incredible force. A mass of dark hair and torn fabric, stained with blood, lay at the foot of the central tree. The same black liquid guttered weakly into a half-dome in an attempt to stop more projectiles, but couldn’t hold its shape and joined the rest of the dark splatters on the ground. Surely that wasn’t…?

Another rock bounced off of the figure’s shoulder, leaving behind a line of red that spilled down the pale skin exposed by his ruined sleeve. He shifted and some of the hair fell to the side, revealing a single scarlet eye, darting from side to side, searching for an escape. The leader of the pack, recognizable as the brute from earlier in the day, hurled another stone that struck the wounded creature across the temple. A yelp of pain rang out, but then the shape was silent.

“I think I finally got him!” Javier exclaimed. “How much do you think they’ll pay for his head?”

Mariano had already come to his conclusion. “Leave him.” Despite the lack of exclamation point, his voice was clear and cold and had an impressive volume that carried it well enough to make the rabble stop what they were doing.

Javier turned to see who had spoken. “You again? Seems like you really want trouble. Why do you care so much about this monster, anyway? All it wanted was the steal our people away in the night. I did this town a favour by exterminating it.”

“You’ll regret laying hands on him.” A statement of fact, not a threat. Mariano never threatened.

Javier snorted. “I don’t think so. Maybe I should take care of you, too, for protecting that thing. Boys!” At his command, the scattered hunters left off taking potshots at Thanatos and aimed their weapons at the new threat.

Bastian loved watching this part. Mariano fought like a wild thing, with a magic that was hungry, ruthlessly efficient and utterly without mercy. In some ways, one could say he fought like a dragon. Bastian couldn’t afford to be distracted watching his mage work, though. Rescuing Thanatos was more important, and so he refocused, his new objective heavily discouraging any of Javier’s goons from running to his aid.

#

Mariano let out a deep breath and put his magic away. The smell of charred flesh rose over the scent of the forest at night — more of which was Bastian’s work than his, if he was honest. “We’re all clear now, Than. Are you all right?” The figure by the tree made no sound, and Bastian threw Mariano an inquisitive glance. He elected to approach, wanting to see if that last rock had knocked the vampire unconscious.

Unconscious he was not, and the speed at which he withdrew toward the perceived safety of the tree surprised even Mariano. The curtain of his hair obscured his face, and it was a bit unsettling the way the glowing red eyes watched Mariano through the tangle, pupils narrowed into slits with none of the good humour or charm he was used to seeing in them. If the vampire weren’t wearing Thanatos’s clothes — or, rather, what was left of them — he’d almost believe it wasn’t Than he was watching at all. Thanatos’s eyes showed no recognition, only wary apprehension, as if he were waiting for Mariano to reveal threatening intent. Was he too far gone to realize who they were?

Mariano continued to approach, slowly, giving Thanatos time to track his movements. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “It’s just me. It’s Mariano, you know me. Bastian’s here too. Let him see you, Bastian.” Bastian approached as he was told, but Thanatos backed away, which pulled taut a thin wire around his ankle. The metal had cut into his flesh to the point that white bone was visible amidst the mess of pink and red. “That hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Let us help you. We’ll get that off of you and get you somewhere we can treat it, okay?” He could only hope that their potions would work on a vampire. It didn’t look at all treatable otherwise.

Thanatos remained silent. That was the weirdest thing about it. The Thanatos Mariano knew rarely stopped talking: his presence was a constant stream of words about everything and nothing, almost as if he were afraid to stop. Right about now, he would usually apologise profusely for needing to be rescued at all and be on the verge of composing an epic ballad about their combat prowess, maybe a little worse for wear but trying hard not to show it. As Mariano approached, all he could hear were the harsh exhales forcing themselves through the vampire’s nose. That it wasn’t broken was a miracle, considering the state of the rest of his face. Thanatos did a good job of not looking like a corpse most days, but the bruising mottling his cheeks and over his eyes appeared distinctly post-mortem. Tear tracks, long dried, were visible under the blood and dirt. And yet, through it all, he looked not fearful exactly, but… vigilant. Distrustful. He hadn’t given up at all. He was just waiting to see what else he would have to endure.

Mariano tried again. “Thanatos? Bastian’s gonna get that cord off of you, okay? And then you can just come to me. We’ll take you somewhere safe.” Thanatos still didn’t seem to hear, but Bastian’s approach certainly got his attention, eliciting a growl from deep within the vampire’s chest.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants our help,” Bastian murmured, slowing, but not stopping.

“He’s just afraid.” This was a sound like a cornered animal, not like a predator, ready to fight if he had to, but wanting to avoid it. “We can’t just leave him like this. He’ll understand once the wire’s gone.” At least, he probably would. “It’s okay, Than. Come to me, you’ll be safe. You trust me, right?” Mariano could only hope Thanatos did. It certainly seemed like it, given how quickly he’d started to account for the mage in his plans. Would that trust be able to cut through whatever was going on with him?

The growl became louder as the distance between Bastian and Thanatos closed, and escalated into a hiss when he got close enough to touch the wire. It was Mariano’s turn to fill the air with words, anything to distract Thanatos long enough for Bastian to do his thing. If Than tried to run again, he’d probably make everything worse. “Eyes on me, Than, that’s it. I know you’re scared. He won’t hurt you. We’re friends. You know that. You remember us. We’re going to get you out of here, and then we’ll make your leg stop hurting.” Mariano extended a hand toward his injured friend, proving that he held no weapon and no ill intent. It was up to Thanatos to believe him, if he even could right now.

Everything happened at once. A rush of dragon fire, the twang of metal parting from metal. Thanatos lunged toward Mariano at lightning speed, covering the distance between them before Bastian could even shout a warning. White-hot pain, a burst of warm blood, wet, lips, tongue, breath, a dull thud, blackness.

part 2 up tomorrow!

taglist: @athenswrites, @albatris, @thethistlegirlwrites

[its-me-your-bicon]

Three is Company - MCU

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes.

Summary: There’s trouble in paradise, so how will the situation shift when you receive some unexpected news about yourself?

Word count: 3456.

Warnings: Avenger!Reader; Pregnancy talk; References to abortion; Mentions of injuries.

No pronouns used for reader, but AFAB implications.

Author’s notes: Oh hey, it’s my first poly fic and my comeback to writing.

I want to acknowledge that I’m aware of how things are regarding abortion laws in the states, and that this fic was created way before that. I just never got around to finish it. So in case it wasn’t clear enough, I’m 100% pro-choice. Fuck policing people’s bodies ❌❌❌

“I told you to wait.”

You hear Sam’s angry voice for what must have been the fifth time today. And as much as you know it comes from a place of concern, enough is enough.

“And I told you I could handle it. How many times should we go over this?” the exasperated side glance you give him says it all.

“It’s not on you to make that judgment. I’m—”

“The one in charge. I know!” You stop walking. Sam follows suit, both of you letting out a frustrated sound at the heat. “And you sure have a funny way to show it.”

That does it for him. Not in the way you expect a guy to lose his temper and say something harsh, but more in how his chest tightens at the meaning behind that. First, he has to see you take onto more troops than you can handle on the duo mission, trying to deploy, to distract them, so he could succeed and come unscratched. But by doing so, you disobeyed him, got hurt, and tired yourself out to the point he found you vomiting the moment he was able to rush to your side to take it from there.

And now you imply that this goes beyond the field.

The mission was barely a success. Your actions were key to that, but not in a way Sam considers sustainable. He doesn’t see your life as less or more disposable than his. To him, you’re his equal. But if he has to use his new title as Captain America to avoid casualties like this, or for him to take the bigger burden... He will.

“Oh. So you think it’s easy being the one to call the shots? Because it’s not, and you’re wrong. Almost as much to think you can go around dropping hints and thinking it isn’t going to affect us out there.” he says dead serious. “For God’s sake, Just say what you are thinking. If you refuse to retire to the infirmary, then that’s the last thing we can do to sort this out.”

You grunt in frustration, not liking how he turns this on you and keeps giving you orders.

“You wanna know what I think? Sure. Let’s start simple. You are a hypocrite if you think you’re the only one who can make sacrifices, and I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to accept your worries until you realize that I have my own too!” You say in a bit of a rush. “If we can’t put our emotions aside, maybe we shouldn’t work together at all!”

“So that’s it? That’s your big plan?” he retorts, incredulous. “Putting people at risk in hopes that we never cross each other in the field? It won’t do. If we have a problem, we work through it. ’Cause once we’re out there, it isn’t about us—”

“BUT IT IS ABOUT US, SAM! IT’S ABOUT ME.” You weren’t expecting to retort into yelling, but the situation got the best of you. “You think it’s no big deal seeing you risk your life for people who would have you replaced the moment you die? That I should be near by every time you’re sent off to the end of the world and pretend that’s a normal relationship? I GET IT! We are FAR from ordinary, but I’m tired of not talking about it.” Seeing Sam’s conflicted expression as he shakes his head brings you back to yourself. And as much as you want to feel regret, the main thing you focus on right now is how tired you are, finding the closest wall and letting yourself fall as the adrenaline wears off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t.” He kneels down to do a quick check-on on you. “It’s fine. You’re hurt.” He whispers. “I can’t tell you what to do, but please. There’s a medical team in the building. I may not be your favorite person right now... But let me help.” You don’t answer with words, accommodating him to hold onto his shoulders instead and walk side by side.

“What you said back there, I—”

“I said it was fine. We don’t have to talk about it now.” He finishes instead.

You try to laugh it up.

“I was just going to say... That I don’t play favorites. So don’t stress about it too much while you do the paperwork.”

Against his better judgment telling him to remain serious, he snorts. Not expecting you capable of jokes now.

“And here I was thinking you chose this gig because you liked me best... I’m heartbroken.” He pouts jokingly.

The giggle that you share afterwards is nice, but it’s not enough to dissipate the tension that ensued moments before. And as much as that’s usually Sam’s job, you wished a certain third part was there to set things right, even when he had to submit himself to hear two versions of the same fight.

###

The room they put you in wasn’t half bad, but it felt cold once you were left alone with strangers. Sam having decided to give you some space.

The patching didn’t take very long, but your symptoms, combined with the difficulty to get here on your own despite not having big visible injuries, earned you a few extra tests. Having to wait for quite some time before getting a full diagnosis, you rub your face in an exasperated manner.

Your worry would’ve increased after the third hour if not for the knock on your doorframe.

“Heard sparks were going high today.” Says Bucky in a static pose while you roll your eyes at his lame attempt to cheer you up. Sam must have called him. Still, you accept his affections as he comes closer to place a kiss on your head, rubbing your back slightly. “How are you feeling, doll?”

“Who wants to know?” You smile in his direction and rest your head on his body. “The doctors haven’t told me everything, but I’m here in one piece. So that should count for something...”

“Oh, I’m sure. But how are you feeling?” He catches your eye, making sure you know what he’s really asking you about.

You sigh.

“So you heard... Why am I not surprised?” He shrugs, smiling again as he holds your hand. “I’m... Alright, I suppose. Feeling bad about Sam and how I treated him, most of all.” you avoid his gaze, not sure of how much he knows.

He muffles a sound of amusement.

“I don’t think Sam even has the time to feel bad about himself. I wouldn’t worry.” You look at him, confused.

“But I still do. I shouldn’t have treated him like that. He was right. I should’ve told him what I thought. Told you both, really.” You expressed, closing your eyes.

“And what would that be?” says Bucky, trying to weigh in for both of you. Worried that this was bigger than the three of you, somehow...

You let the silence lingers for a bit before voicing an answer.

“I haven’t been feeling so well lately, and I think it shows on my performance... Today was proof of it, I’m sure.”

“Weren’t you ambushed, though?”

“That wouldn’t have stopped me before! I know what I’m talking about, Buck.” You raise your voice a little, immediately remembering earlier and trying to calm yourself by resting your head back on the bed. Not wanting a repeat from before.

“Hey... I believe you. Just trying to understand, that’s all.” He sits in bed with you, trying to comfort you. “What do you want to do about it? How did it affect your fight?”

His interest sparks something warm in yourself, and you can’t help the caring eyes that meet his when you look at him. Bucky gives you the time you need to enjoy the intimacy, and starts caressing your hand and wrist with his own flesh. The simple action has you ignoring everything but his touch. And although you are certain you could fall asleep to it despite all else, you know he’s waiting on you to tell him the facts at some point. And It's better to do it while you feel the moment is right, so you start.

“I told Sam we shouldn’t work together anymore... Mostly because my reason for taking missions lately is the two of you, and I don’t want you risking your lives alone with how things are... Despite the pain, despite everything.” Barnes wants to ask further on that last part but senses there is still more to the story.

He is correct, so you continue. “But... in my head, if Sam isn’t willing to accept my sacrifice, then it defies the purpose, y’know? But how could he? I... wasn’t telling him— Telling you about any of this.” you take a deep breath, realizing something as you speak. “Maybe it’s time for me to step out completely.”

Bucky goes stiff, and you feel it immediately.

“That’s a big decision, don’t you think? We’re talking retirement?”

“Maybe... Ugh, I don’t know! But what else can I do?”

“I...” he shakes his head, sealing his lips before voicing anything else. “Can’t make that decision for you, and I’m sure Sam would feel the same.”

You look defeatedly at your lap, expecting that kind of answer.

“We can, however, just wait for a while.” he invites your head to rest back on his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. Go back to the root of the problem and think… We probably won’t find the answer in this room, anyways. So let’s just make sure you’re alright, okay?” You still seem sad at his words, but the nod you give him before pecking his lips has Bucky feeling a little more at ease. The way your foreheads stay connected afterward is a close second when it comes to things that can effectively calm him down in a matter of seconds.

However, the moment is cut short by motion in the background.

One of the doctors comes in, not really acknowledging the partner currently by your side. Bucky takes this as his sign to leave after sensing he’s not needed for what it’s to come. You catch onto his thoughts without words, and look at his apologetic stare.

“You’ll be alright by yourself?”

“Yes, just go.” He nods, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he promises to meet you outside.

Dr. Anat offers you a smile.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” She asks, thinking is a little too late to ask, but you shake your head nonetheless. “Good, because I’m cutting straight to the point and would prefer to deal with one soldier at a time.”

You furrow your eyebrows, opening your mouth to question her, but she beats you to it again.

“You are pregnant.”

You freeze. Hoping nothing more than to zone out and for time to stand still as you once imagined could happen to most people in this exact situation (as if you were in a movie...). But obviously, that doesn’t happen. You are painfully aware of where and who you are with right now.

More importantly, you are mindful that the two men you treasure with your life might have to get this news from you (should you decide to involve them). Judging from the fact that the woman in front of you is having a hard time looking you in the face. Fixing her glasses as she stares at the corner of your bed instead.

“For how long?” you trembled.

“10 weeks is our guess for now.”

“How is that possible?! I haven’t been missing periods for that long!” You start getting exasperated as the reality of the situation hits, no matter how surreal it might have been moments ago. Everything since the blip has felt like a blur in your head. Yet, you still feel the need to defend your case, as if that could change anything.

“Have you noticed anything different about your discharge? Such as quantity or color? Implantation bleeding gets confused with period blood quite often. It might explain why—” You don’t hear the rest or really pay attention to the information she’s providing you from her tablet. You pretend to, though, trying to be polite. The poor woman it’s trying her best to address the situation, knowing damn well what this could mean for you and the world depending on how you proceed with this pregnancy. All the while trying a little too hard not to mention anything involving the father. Fully aware of your situation (as most people from the inside were).

On the last point, you can meet halfway with her… The only thing on your head being the burden of delivering the news, and wishing you could ignore it as you weighed your options and decided not to keep this between you and the cautious Professional.

###

Bucky is shocked, to say the least.

Knowing he was across the hall was all you needed to target him first. Others could have handled it differently and tell both at the same time, but you couldn’t lie to his face the moment you set foot out of that room.

Whether he was open to admit it or not, his initial lack of response was very much on character. But his urgency to insist you should sit down as you explained everything... That he takes after Sam, and you can’t help but grin at the comparison.

“What—? I’m serious! You’ve been through hell these past weeks. I can’t even fathom how a literal child is growing inside of you right now.” His eyes widened, unable to look at anything but your waist every now and then. You roll your eyes at him.

“First off, I know you’re old, but we don’t consider embryos as literal children in this century.” He blushes at your words, remembering how often you lecture him on terminology these days. “Second of all, you said it yourself! After everything I’ve been through, how would it be possible for me to tamper with this pregnancy by just standing around?” You ask, genuinely incredulous as him until an idea crosses your mind. Bucky reads your expression immediately.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but something just occurred to me and— Oh god, you have every right to discard the idea but... Would it be possible for cells to take after the serum? You know its properties better than me, and it might explain how... Y’know...”

You lower your head at the implications. Bucky’s eyes widening again at your words, not really having an answer for you.

“I don’t know.” He simply states. “I wouldn’t put it past us completely, but you might just have a stronger than average body in general. We know that… Better to spare those details to Sam, though.” he laughs nervously, trying to wave the tension.

“Spare me from what?” Both of your heads turn in a rush to the source of a voice you know quite well, hoping to guess how much he heard. Judging by his approaching steps and bewildered expression, not much.

Bucky clears his throat, giving you a look that can only express something such as ‘he’s all yours.’

Oh, to hell with that.

You punch his arm quite hard, letting him know how displeased you are at what he just did.

Sam is growing worried by the minute and decides to approach you first as he originally planned on the way here. Checking on you was his priority right now.

“Everything okay, beautiful?” he softly queries while holding and caressing both of your shoulders with his thumbs. You melt at the beautiful brown orbs staring at your whole being at this very moment, somehow making it easier to confide in him.

You take a deep breath and decide to go for it...

“Yes, I’ll live.” You reassure him, bringing a hand on top of his as you continue. “But there’s something you should know...”

###

Bucky was actually more helpful than expected, being a supporting source for most of the initial shock that overtook your boyfriend at the moment. Sam tried not to show it and give you his full attention, but you could see something small in his eyes hinting that now he was the one in dire need of sitting down.

From one moment to another, though, you find him hugging you with a raw emotion you can’t quite place… You’re a bit confused, but hug him back and feel some tears threatening to go down. Without knowing why… Something tells you this is to keep him grounded while still showing his involvement and support.

And you’d be correct.

It’s not that the former Falcon is scared of how this could go (for now, at least), but rather, he’s putting context to some of your hardships these last couple of months. He feels even more guilty for everything, but he’d be lying to say he is not impressed and admires you more than anyone else in this world.

Bucky and him share a knowing look mid-hug, having to ask something they’re not quite sure how to approach (the former rather than the latter).

“So what are your thoughts on this, sugar...?” He asks, not a trace of judgment on his eyes as he separates from you, still holding your arms. “I know it’s rather sudden, but just know we’ll follow you on whatever you want to do.”

“That’s right. The choice is yours. We’ll be here either way” Bucky backs up, making you somewhat more emotional, knowing his background.

Their support really means everything to you.

Looking at both of your boys appreciatively, you let the silence take over before answering truthfully.

“I’m not sure.” you smile apologetically at them. “I told James I was looking into retirement just a few moments ago but for totally different reasons... This really puts things into perspective.” You pause, thinking about your next words carefully. “Even so, there’s one more thing I need to talk about before anything else.” Taking a step back from Sam, you brush his arms as you go until only your hands are holding his. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to ignore our fight because something else came up, even if you might feel more inclined to forgive me. You were right. Wherever we are, I shall tell you how I feel and expect the same for you… I want to focus on that, no matter what.”

He returns your smile with his own, furrowing his brows and wanting nothing more than to kiss you and tell you not to worry about it. But he’s listening, and he knows you wouldn’t want that. So instead, he says: “I’m glad we are talking about it, about anything really. Sorry if I’ve been dismissive lately. It’s not an easy position you’ve been in— Even before this. And I should have been more considered.” He turns to Bucky, still holding your hands. “I’m here for you guys, and I should know better than to carry the world on my shoulders by now. Please, keep holding me accountable.” He begs in good nature, and although that last part was directed at you, Bucky still meddles in to annoy him.

“Damn right I will. Being the devil’s advocate for you two is getting older than me. Grow up already.” Three different laughs fill the hallway as one of the soldier’s fingers points at you and Sam. It’s hard to take him seriously when he’s lecturing anyone, and you all know it.

“He’s not wrong, though… Should we cut him a break?” you say in complicity as Sam stares at you lovingly, humming in agreement as he goes for a kiss. You accept eagerly. Cutting it short as you look for Bucky again, inviting him to come closer with an extended arm and hugging both of them as he comes closer.

They reciprocate the action, and you start feeling hopeful for the future for the first time in a while. Having them by your side, knowing they’ll be there for each other and vice versa.

“You know I love you guys, right?”

“We’d be pretty suspicious if you changed your mind, given the circumstances.” The captain at your side replies with a smirk and a raised brow. “I love you too, sweetness.”

“Ditto.” says Bucky, ever the speech man.

The tears you were previously holding never come. But the same amount of emotion overcomes you until you can properly enjoy the moment.

Yes, there are big decisions ahead, but you can take them. You are not alone... Far from it, actually.

And you’re starting to feel like it again. What better news than that could have come your way today?

[jessybarnes]

Unexpected But Always Wanted

Fandom - Metallica

Chapter One: Unbelievable News

Ship - James Hetfield x Lars Ulrich

Rating - 18+ Only

Tags - MPREG!, angst, fluff, vomiting, crying, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Word Count -  1k

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

A/N - This story will feature male pregnancy, or mpreg, if that's not your thing, then I will kindly ask that you keep scrolling :)

“Everyone has inside of them a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be, how much you can love, what you can accomplish, and what your potential is!” --Anne Frank

There was one thing James and Lars had wanted since they got together other than each other, and that was a child. That subject came up frequently, but neither of them knew when the right time was. Let alone the fact that both were male and couldn't conceive.

At least that's what they thought.

Before today they never dreamed they would be able to be parents without a surrogate or adoption, but with Metallica releasing a new album they didn't have time for all the paperwork and interviews. They agreed that they would wait until the time was right, but that wasn't right now. Fate had other plans for them though.

In the early hours of the morning on October 14th, James woke up feeling nauseous and dizzy. He stumbled to the bathroom feeling along the wall for support. Barely making it, he got sick until he had nothing left but dry heaves. Lars heard him and made his way into the bathroom rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

"James, what's wrong? Are you okay?" 

Lars looked concerned at James' appearance. He looked pale, clammy, and downright miserable. He wondered if it was something he ate, but upon recalling what they had eaten he realized that it couldn't have been the food. Lars ate the same things and he wasn't sick.

"Lars, I don't know... I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel terrible, but at the same time, I'm starving. Like I have never been this hungry. It's like I haven't eaten in a month. That's not the weirdest part...I want a BLT but with ketchup instead of mayo..." 

Lars scrunched his nose in disgust before offering James a glass of water from the sink. 

"James, don't be ridiculous. It's three in the morning and you want a BLT with ketchup? What are you pregnant or something?" 

James took small sips from the glass using what little strength he had to flip Lars the bird. 

"Fuck off man, don't joke about that shit. You know how bad I want us to have a baby. If I had a test to piss on I would take it just to see if they really work, ya know. I have always kinda wondered how those things can determine if women are pregnant or not." 

Lars rolled his eyes and turned to reach into the closet that was next to the shower. He began digging and moving stuff around while James watched in confusion. 

"Lars what the hell are you doing?" 

After practically climbing inside the closet he held something out to James. 

"Here, you wanna see if they work? Now's your chance." 

He stared wondrously at the little plastic package before looking back at his Dane. 

"Lars where did you... why do you... how...?" 

Lars chewed on his bottom lip considering his thought. 

"Well, before you and I got together, Connie and I were trying to have kids, and she kinda bought tests in bulk. That is left over from what she bought. Now, will you pee on the damn thing so we can get back to bed? I'm cold and wanna cuddle you." 

James smirked at Lars before tearing open the package with his teeth. He wouldn't admit it outside their home, but Lars loved cuddles, and he especially loved to be the little spoon. 

"Okay, but don't get your hopes up. Last time I checked I was a man, which was yesterday." 

Lars crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. 

"Very funny Hetfield, now will you pee already? It's like Antarctica in here." 

James loved when he got cranky. He always thought it was so cute. His little Danish spitfire. 

"Alright alright! Don't get your panties in a bunch." 

James removed the protective cap from the end and carefully aimed until he covered the end thoroughly. He placed the cap back on and set it on the counter before taking a seat on the toilet lid. 

"So how long do we have to wait to find out that I'm not pregnant?" 

Lars smoothed out the wrapper and mumbled to himself while looking for the directions. 

"Says here we wait about three minutes for the results to take place." 

The clock on the wall was the only thing making noise as they waited. James with his head in his hands to try and stifle his sudden case of vertigo, and Lars leaning against the door frame chewing on his nail. 

"That's it I can't take it anymore... It's been long enough!" 

James snatched the test and turned it over. 

"Well, what does it say? Tell me so we can go back to sleep." 

James furrowed his brows and handed it to Lars. 

"I don't know man, there are too many lines on this damn thing for me to tell. I'll never understand how women read these damn things." 

Lars was completely silent, staring wide-eyed at the test. He barely breathed, and his hands were shaking. 

"C'mon Lars, stop fuckin' with me. It may be early as fuck, but you still can't trick me. Even when I am dog ass tired." 

Lars looked at him with fear and shock before stumbling out a reply. 

"Jamie... I don't... it..."  

Lars' eyes filled with tears and James snapped his head up to his lover. He never called him Jamie unless something was wrong or he was scared. Not even when they were joking around. 

"Lars what does it say? Baby, c'mere what is it?" 

Lars pawed at the tears that escaped his eyes and collapsed to his knees in front of him. James engulfed his tiny figure into his arms, and his voice was even smaller as he whispered against his bare chest. 

"Jamie... it says you're pregnant..."

[glowbug252]

Tnmtober Day: 15

Prompt: Try Again? Generation: 2012

Tw: Bugs, body horror, vomiting (not in graphic detail), implied murder... via eating... (I promise it sounds worse than it is!) 😅

Raph and his brothers crept quietly from shadow to shadow in the abandoned amusement park. Even though it was night, and the park was supposedly abandoned, you could never be too careful. They were here because Donnie had been noticing an alarming number of reports for missing people around the park. Teenagers and maintenance workers alike had been venturing inside, either for dares, or to prevent the rusted machinery from getting too much structural damage, and they simply weren’t coming out. 

They had quietly debated on the way there on what or who the culprit might be: The Kraang? The foot? A mutant? Leo didn’t think the Kraang or the Foot would care about an amusement park, but Donnie had argued that it might just be a cover for something more, and they were simply removing witnesses. Mikey was just excited at the prospect of going to the amusement park, and was hoping it was just a mutant, because they were easier to deal with and would leave plenty of night left for messing around in the park. Raph hoped it was the Foot, because their Footbots were plentiful, stupid, and easy to smash. A recipe for a good time in his eyes…

The problem was, that they had been there for almost two hours now, and not one of them had noticed the slightest thing amiss, or any sign of any missing people. It was strange. And frustrating. Raph was cold and angry, the growing October chill on his bare skin, doing nothing to improve his mood, and his hopes for the evening a letdown. The Foot would have ambushed them ages ago if it had been them, and now here they were, slowly and quietly creeping around every corner of the park for the third time, and seeing nothing suspicious at all. 

Raph groans and hisses to his brother: “Donnie, are you sure all these missing people didn’t just get lost and find their way back home? Because I’m starting to doubt your research abilities. There’s nothing here!” 

“Nothing?” Mikey asks, surprisingly -and annoyingly, if you asked Raph- chipper. “Look at all these cool rides! And all the stands! And the games! Man, I’m just dying to try them all out!”

“Quiet down!” Leo whispers. “We’re not here to have fun, Mikey! We’re here to investigate! Although, Raph’s right. I’m not seeing anything out of place at all. Donnie, are you sure-”

“Yes! For the hundredth time, yes, I’m sure of what I read!” Donnie snaps defensively, his words accompanied by an angry cloud of his breath, visible in the cold air. 

“Then why isn’t there anything here?” Leo asks. “There should be some evidence. Even a footprint. But there’s just- not.”

Donnie looks down and sighs. “I don’t know.” He admits. 

“Great!” Raph snaps. “So we’ve been prancing around in the cold for hours for no reason. Amazing!” 

Donnie lets out a frustrated growl and opens his mouth to retaliate, before Leo steps between them. 

“Ok, this isn’t going to get us anywhere. Let’s just take a break, try to gather our thoughts and then come back to it. I think it’s clear now that there’s nothing for us to hide from, so we’ll see if it’s more obvious from out in the open.” He rallies, his own voice tight and exhausted-sounding.

“Sweet!” Mikey adds. “Does this mean I can play a game or two while we take a break?” He asks hopefully. 

Leo sighs. “Go ahead, Mikey.”

Raph looks at Donnie for a second longer, frowning, but when he notices the way Donnie’s expression sinks, Raph’s own expression turns gentler. It might suck to be out here for so long in the cold, but Donnie hadn’t been planning on it either. He was upset about it too.

“Come on, Donnie. Let’s take a break.” Raph calls. Donnie looks up and his expression eases slightly. He nods and goes over to sit on the curb beside Leo, who was stretching out his bad knee, and massaging it with frozen fingers. 

Raph moves to follow Mikey to the rows of carnival-style games, watching as his eyes excitedly scan the choices. Then, at the same time, both brother’s eyes land on a smaller rectangular shape in line with the game stalls, covered in a faded cloth for protection. 

“What’s that one?” Raph asks, and Mikey’s already walking towards it to check it out too. 

“I don’t know,” Mikey responds excitedly, “But it’s covered up, so it must be good!”

With a flourish, he grabs the cloth and pulls it away dramatically. Underneath is a worn-down boxy machine. There’s a square glass window on the top half that’s cracked in a few places, leaving a couple small holes in the glass, and a coin slot in the front. In peeling gold lettering, the machine declares: “Hear your Future be Told by the King!” Inside, visible through the glass window, is a wooden-looking puppet. It’s worn and chipped, but wearing fancy noble’s clothes and has a faintly glittering gold crown on its head. Strings are attached to the puppet’s limbs, leading up, and to the top inner mechanics of the machine.The puppet sits limply in the box, its face turned downwards, but Raph could have sworn he had seen a dark glint in its eyes. 

“Awww,” Mikey sighs. “It’s not even a real game! It’s just one of those fortune teller thingies!” 

“Well, don’t you want to see if it still works, at least?” Raph asks, leaning over the counter of a different stall and rummaging in its cash register for the money needed for “The King’s” coin slot. 

“Yeah, ok.” Mikey surrenders. “As long as you’re paying!” He adds jokingly.

“Just for you, little brother.” Raph teases, sliding in the coins. 

They both take a step back to watch expectantly. Raph frowns in anticipation, expecting some form of lights or music to emanate from the machine, but there’s nothing. After a silent second, Raph begins to turn away in disappointment. 

“Guess this hunk of junk is-”

“Raphael.” A strange voice whispers. Well, not really a voice, but more like thousands of tiny ones, speaking in unison. He can’t identify where it’s coming from, or they’re coming from, and it’s alarming. He had grown up learning the art of ninjutsu, and that meant being able to pinpoint your opponent’s location from the smallest amount of sound. But yet, this voice- these voices, were eluding him. He feels goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

He whirls around, first looking at Mikey, maybe to see if he’d heard it too, but Mikey’s not even looking in his direction. He’s staring instead in the direction of The King’s machine. Raph distractedly follows his gaze to the interior of the machine, looking through the glass window, and freezes. 

The puppet- The King, had actually stood up, its head still tilted at an ominous angle. It’s mouth hangs open, slightly ajar. 

“Oh my god.” Raph whispers under his breath. But no. These two events can’t be related, they just can’t. 

“Raphael!” The voices repeat, louder and harsher than before. And- the puppet’s mouth moves with them. 

But- why couldn’t Raph tell where the voices were coming from?

“Mikey,” Raph asks, his voice strained and shaky. “Are you hearing this?!”

Mikey turns, the grin on his face and in his tone fading as he speaks, fully taking in the expression on Raph’s face. “Hearing what? Mr. King must be broken. There’s no sound coming out.” His eyes narrow as it fully sinks in.“Raph? Why would you ask me that? You can’t hear anything either, right?”

“I- I-” Raph stutters, clutching his face in panic and taking a step back.

“What’s the matter, Raphael? Didn’t you pay for a fortune?” The voices laugh, as does the puppet. The sounds still coming strangely without a source. 

“I can hear it.” He whispers. “I can hear it but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from because it’s coming from inside my head!” His breathing comes in shallow gasps. “It’s in my head, Mikey!” 

“What? Raph, that’s silly! Puppets can’t talk in people’s heads! You’re ok!” Mikey tries to reassure, but he’s glancing back at the mechanical box. Raph knows what he’s thinking: ‘We’ve been through so many more crazy things, is this really that much of a stretch?’ Even his reassurances almost sound forced. 

He takes a step closer, looking around the machine, but Raph can’t get himself to follow. He’s rooted to the spot. 

The puppet moves closer to the glass separating them, its hinge-like mouth lowering again. 

“Your future, Raphael, is bleak.” The voices whisper inside his very ears. “You may try as many times as you like, but you will never be an asset to your brothers. You will never make the right choice. You will fail. Again, and again and again. You and your anger will tear apart the team. You’ll never improve. You’ll be stuck as a pawn, belonging to another as long as you draw breath. You are a failure! You are weak! You’re impulsive! You hurt your family with every chance you have! You’re too angry to ever-”

Raph’s heart is pounding faster than he ever thought possible, his blood almost boiling. He takes step after step forward, faster and faster until he’s approaching the machine at full speed, so intent on shutting that thing up, of stopping it from ever calling him anything like that ever again, that he barely notices the way Mikey retracts in shock from investigating the machine, spotting something that makes his green skin go pale: the machine had a plug, that was its source of power- but- it wasn’t plugged in. It had never been plugged in. Raph notices none of this, however.  All Raph cares about is destroying that stupid puppet and the stupid mechanical box it sits in.

He crashes into it with a noise so loud it rivals the angry ringing in his ears. He smashes his fists into it over and over, shattering the glass and leaving the puppet at his mercy. He holds the broken machine still with his foot, grabs the puppet, and pulls, breaking all the strings attaching it to the mechanics in one move. Then, he raises the, now freed, rotting, limp wooden figure and smashes it onto the ground, cracking it open like an egg. 

Of which, to Raph’s surprise and horror, appropriately hatches. 

But what pours out, all over Raph’s arms, his legs, in his face and in his mouth, wasn’t a baby chick. 

It was roaches. Thousands of them. Crammed into the puppet like a single mass entity, controlling it. Now forced out of their puppet, and onto a new puppet. Onto Raph. 

Roaches that had no doubt been exposed to mutagen, making them into a hivemind.

Roaches that also tended to like to eat human flesh, something that could possibly cause a few missing people. 

And roaches that were now a writing and pulsating mass, scattering in every direction, but especially all over Raph’s skin, and in his shell and under the fabric of his mask. 

Raph screams, causing one of the bugs to come out of his mouth. He gags, doubling over, disgusted, clutching his retching stomach with one hand, the other desperately swatting and smacking every inch of skin he could reach. They were all over. Crawling on him. Nothing he could do would make them stop. His fear and panic reaching levels he didn’t even know were possible, his awareness of anything other than the feelings of little bug feet crawling over every inch of his body too much to bear.  

Was he still screaming? He couldn’t even tell. He thinks he would rather be dead than experience this, his fingers desperately swatting and scratching at his arms and legs and shell until his skin starts to get raw and bloody.  

From his mind, the puppet’s voice, the hivemind’s voice. The roaches’ voices- whispers: “See? Failure. No matter how many times you try, that’s all you’ll ever be.” The swarming bugs pause in their motion for a moment. “Too bad! You got a bad fortune! Will you: Try Again? Insert more coins to continue!”

Raph screams.

Based off an old horror one shot I wanted to write but never did. Here's some sketches of the Bug King if you're interested. (As you can see, the secret idea got scrapped, as did the big fight with each limb being piloted by bugs to fight the bros.)

… ignore the math review key I drew them on lol, I needed a reprieve from studying for finals last year! @tmntober-2023

[the-wayside]

i came across your blog today, and your vp metas are so on point. this one in particular (post/688766706507776000/vegas-breaks-when-pete-says-he-doesnt-even-have) had me nodding all the way. this is going to be a long ask, mostly because i have only discovered the show like a couple of weeks ago, and i have a lot of feelings, so i hope you don't mind my word vomit. i personally think everything that happened up to the safehouse can't be seen as love. i think even vegas recognize that when pete broke down, but he's selfish and most likely obsessed with this guy who is exactly his match, hence why he begged pete to stay. despite pete's growing feelings and all the things he has come to adore about vegas, getting out is vital to, as you said, his autonomy. even i as an audience did not (would not?) see the connection they had at the safehouse as love, mainly because vegas is a master manipulator and would lie to get what he wanted; there was a possibility that he said all he said prior to pete's escape to manipulate pete into staying to enact some nefarious plan or other. and pete i think needed assurance that vegas was honest, and he would not get that assurance as long as he remained a prisoner. it wasn't until the eating scene that I believed vegas, because he's alone, behind closed doors, he had no audience to manipulate... and yet his breakdown was so visceral and raw and painful to watch. it was probably then that he realized he was in love. gosh. i apologize for this ask. i hope it's somehow coherent and i didn't annoy you.

I love to hear anyone's thoughts about the show, so thank you for coming to me!

I think that Vegas knew from the moment that Pete gave himself over that there was a prospect of more. Vegas lives in a very violent world where his literal home is a battleground. There is no calm, there is no peace, there is no safety. Until Pete. Pete offers Vegas a slice of kindness and he latches onto it like he's the one chained up and starving...because he is. Pete nailed him when he basically said he was starved of affection. It's easy in that first rush and blush to believe that everything is beautiful and fanciful and more than it is (rose tinted glasses) and we see that with the food. He believed and hoped that Pete would come back or stay as he did before. But he also lets go in that moment, lets go of the idea of holding him, because that isn't real, returned love and he knows it. The easy answer would be to recapture Pete and force him to stay which he doesn't do. I think Vegas was always on a knife edge with falling in love because his reactions are twisted by the nature of his life and that's why it's that much more meaningful that he sits back and lets himself hear Pete once they're out of the room. Vegas falls in love like he tortures people, all in and all at once. So I think in his own way, Vegas does fall in love inside the room but the proof of his love is how he reacts outside of it.

I think Pete is the harder of the two to pinpoint because there are things he cannot love and cannot accept. Rightfully so. But that's why the scene at Hum Bar is so important. He's full of wounds, emotional, physical, some harking back to his own abuse by the hands of his own father (to live with an abuser you lose yourself to please them) and all of these things mean that Pete should never love Vegas but he cries because he does. Faced with him again, it shoves the reality back in his face. I don't think Pete confesses his love right away. Not even when Vegas is in the hospital. One evening when they're having dinner and it's calm and quiet, completely on his own terms, Pete will tell Vegas he loves him because he's sure of him and himself. I digress. I think what we sometimes gloss over is that Pete questions himself and why he liked it, which can mean the sex, but I think he's also talking about his feelings, the way he feels when Vegas is how he is and how he likes what they have together. Pete naturally makes allowances most people never would because his threshold for acceptable behavior has been skewed by his own father. The thing he cannot abide, cannot live with, is having his self taken away. To have his needs be unmet because they have both lived that way and he doesn't deserve it. No one deserves it. He doesn't exist to prop someone else up. So he needs to leave to protect himself. His needs. His wants. He could have easily stayed and "loved" Vegas in that place, but at what cost?

This is my long winded way of saying that they both felt varying degrees of something but the nature of the conception meant that it couldn't be real until it was tested. Until they could live and breathe as people outside of that moment and confirm proof of concept.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

As Long As I'm Here - Robin Buckley (One-Shot)

Prompt: "As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you."

Pairing: Robin Buckley x You

Genre: Childhood friends to lovers

W.A.C Winner: @stanseventeen

Auth. Note: Thank you so much for the love and support of my work! I hope you enjoy this special one-shot just for you!

She looked cute today. Nervous as all hell as she stared at herself in the mirror; fluffing her hair and tugging at her clothes ranting a mile a minute to the point you'd just pretty much zoned out on what she was actually saying. Her flustered state had nothing to do with the way you were looking at her of course; she never noticed before and just like now she didn't see the way you're eyes scanned her form from head to toe admiring the leggings that hugged her long legs just right and the way the dress she wore fell just barely to mid-thigh in soft cotton; the cinch round her waist made her hips a little more noticeable than the mom jeans she normally wore. Plainly put, the new style made a difference in her appearance. Long gone were the tomboy clothes and boyish nature of her being. She hated being feminine, that much was obvious but she was making an effort. Effort for the wrong reason and effort for the wrong person.

"Are you listening to me?!" you blink up at her from where you lay lounged in her desk chair; shoes dragging along her carpet to stop the spinning chair that was making you dizzy.

"Yes, Robin. I am listening to you. But for all the words vomiting from your lips I wouldn't say what you're talking about makes much sense babes." you reply resting an arm on the back of the chair to stare at your childhood best friend with a lazy expression.

The girl threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Damnit, Woman! Just," she growled under her breath in frustration as she ruffled her hair only to realize what she did and freaked out even more as she spun back around to her mirror to try and fix her short blonde brown hair.

Rolling your eyes you unfold your frame from the chair and walk over to stand behind your friend in the mirror. Your eyes watching with a distasteful scorned look in them. Why did Robin have to put effort into being someone she wasn't? Robin wasn't a priss and she was definitely not the most feminine style-wise. She was a nerd; a pretty nerd, but a nerd nonetheless who played in the marching band for Hawkins High and wore clothes more on the boyish sides than anything else. Yet here she was standing in the mirror acting like a girl. She really didn't realize just how perfect she was without even having to try, that was seriously the saddest part of it. Not the fact that you're best fucking friend in the world was getting dressed up to confess her feelings for another person and that person wasn't you.

Okay, let's rewind this morning. After hours of talking in the wee hours of the morning while the moon still shone in the sky, you'd somehow convinced Robin to pull her big girl panties on and finally confess her feelings for her crush. The crush being none other than Tammy Thomas, a girl that thought she was perfect, a singer in the making despite her voice sounding like a chicken squawking when she sings. Another girl from the school who your best friend had a crush on for the longest time. That wouldn't have been an issue to you if there were not 2 things seriously wrong with this plan. 1 being that Hawkins was not a town that looked fondly on same-sex love prospects. Things had gotten a little better over the years but there was definitely more against the idea that there were pros for it. And number 2 was the fact that you'd been in love with your best friend since you guys were young. You'd grown up with Robin and had known you liked girls before Robin ever did. But you'd kept mum for the very reason that number 1 was presented. And perhaps because you were scared to ruin your friendship with the only friend you had. But you guys weren't kids anymore and you'd both grown up and almost graduated to go to college for Pete's sake! But now that Robin finally got the courage to say how she feels to her crush; you knew your chances of speaking up were mummed. Hell, Robin didn't even know that you liked girls. She'd always thought you liked Steve Harrington which only became a stronger alibi for you since you sort of started hanging out with Steve more towards the beginning of the senior year in high school. So, yeah. You could tell why Robin might think that but she never ever expected to think that her best friend was in love with her. She didn't even look at you that way and it sucked sure but you were selfish when it came to Robin. You'd let her live in her little oblivious state regarding you as long as it meant you could see her happy.

"Just breath Robs." you sigh rubbing her shoulders and resting your chin on her shoulder looking at her through the mirror. "You look beautiful." granted, you preferred her not dressing up where she felt uncomfortable but your words were genuine. She did look pretty it just wasn't her style.

Her hands came up to grab yours on her shoulders and her face softened. "Thanks, you're always so supportive. I don't know what I would do without you," she said softly and all you could do was plaster a smile on your face and squeeze her shoulders a second.

"You're my best fucking friend Robin. I'll always be there for you babes," you tell her honestly even when your heart broke a little at the thought that she may never be yours.

When you finally arrived at school you made a beeline for Steve who was talking with another classmate by the lockers as Robin left your side to go in search of Tammy Thomson. Your face said it all and Steve knew it the second his dark gaze turned from his classmate to look over their shoulder at your figure as it stalked across the hall towards him.

"Shit," he muttered as he excused himself and quickly met you halfway; hand grasping at your arms as he saw the look on your face. "She seriously doing it?" his voice was soft so no one else could hear. Steve knew all about Robin's plan to confess thanks to you calling him this morning before your bestie woke up.

"Yeah, she fucking is!" you mutter looking around feeling the bubbling of emotions all over the place. You want to be supportive you really do. But you also wanted to cry because frankly, you couldn't bare the thought that you're the best friend that you've been in love with since you were like 13 and had the possibility of being in a relationship with someone else.

"Shit sweetheart I'm sorry. Maybe she'll be turned down and then you can be there for her you know? All hopes not lost you just gotta keep it positive." bless his soul for wanting to be supportive but as a straight man himself, Steve just didn't understand the lesbian language of emotion. But you gave him brownie points for at least trying.

But it didn't last long. The day had taken its course and you hadn't yet seen Robin or heard anything of what was going on until halfway through the school day during lunch when you and Steve were on the way towards the bleachers to eat outside together when a figure rushed past them towards the girl's bathroom. Her clothes were trashed with whatever cafeteria food and drink were on the menu today was now all over her pretty outfit. At first, you thought 'what a poor soul' thinking another classmate just got bullied but when those blue eyes locked tearily on yours just seconds before the figure disappeared inside the bathroom you felt your heart stutter. That 'poor soul' was Robin. Steve confused and worried tried calling out to you as you shoved past everyone in favor of making your way into the bathroom.

At first, you didn't see Robin but you could hear her. The sound of crying from the farthest stall inside the bathroom was a dead giveaway but at least she was alone; that much you were thankful for. Taking a few steps in you called out to her to let her know you were here.

"Robin, honey are you okay?" you say concerned as you walked further inside the room. You paused in front of the locked stall door and rested your hand on the cold surface. "Baby, can you let me in? Please?" you plead softly, trying to coax her to open up.

It was only a few seconds but it felt like forever as you heard her shuffling and moments later the stall lock was slid open and the door swung outwards towards you allowing you to fully see the damage done. Your mouth dropped seeing the goop of whatever the hell was lunch smeared in a gross-looking pattern all over her sweater dress and her hair was mostly damp with what was probably milk at one point. The mascara she'd applied so mechanically that morning was smeared beneath her eyes and spilling down in black streaks down her face along with the tears. She looked wrecked and heartbroken that much was evident by the gleam in her blue eyes and slump of her shoulders as she hugged herself.

"She called me a freak…a-and disgusting because I liked girls…" her voice was soft almost inaudible with how much she was mumbling over the words.

Anger flared up in you at that and you shook your head as you reached out slowly as if testing to see if she'd be too scared to be touched but when your fingers grasped her upper arms you were relieved that she did not pull away and you guided her out of the stall in favor of leading her to the sink. You didn't say anything at first, instead silently tugging off the sweatshirt you wore over your T-shirt and holding it out to her.

"Here, go ahead and change into this okay? I got some gym shorts you can change into also." you placed your bag onto the sink counter and dug into it to grab the pair of green and white gym shorts and handed them over. She looked hesitant as she held the items

"But my clothes-" you hush her with a shake of your head and carefully helped to peel off her sweater dress from her body. Trying to be respectful as you saw she wore nothing but a camisole underneath her dress and you absently thought the silk looked nice against her skin but you quickly look away in favor of grabbing the soiled dress to dunk it underneath the spray of sink water as you turned it on and thus allowing Robin to change from her leggings and into the gym shorts provided.

As she changed you used the sink and soap to wash as much of the stains you could from her clothing. After ringing out the access water you plopped the clothes off to the side before turning to look at Robin who stood behind you with her arms wrapped around herself. You sigh reaching out and rubbing her arms as a way of comforting her.

"Come here babes." you tug her towards the running water and instructed her to bend over. You did the same thing as you did with her clothes by ringing her hair out under the cold water and using the hand soap to get the crust from the strands of her hair and once you were satisfied that her hair was as clean as it was going to get without a proper shower you helped dry her hair with loads of paper towels.

"I'm sorry that happened Robs." you finally speak up as she hopped up onto the counter; absently kicking her bare legs out in front of her as you grab another paper towel and soaked it in water before you slotted yourself between her bare thighs so that you could wipe her make up away.

"I should have known better. Our time in age doesn't approve of such things." Robin shrugged but it didn't help the fact that her heart was broken and her soul humiliated.

You hated Tammy Thomas in that moment. You never really liked her in the beginning but now you had every reason not to like her even more. But you didn't say any of that and instead finished wiping away the makeup and leaning over to toss the crumbled paper towel away before turning towards your best friend with a look so earnest you had to tilt her chin up so that she was looking at you.

"Fuck it," you said simply with a shake of your head. "Fuck it all. Fuck this school, Fuck the opinions of others, Fuck 'em all. They don't matter. Stop worrying about the opinions and words of others who never had your best interest in mind in the very beginning. So what if they don't approve? Time and age will continue to move and evolve with or without them but that shouldn't stop you from taking risks and loving yourself even if it means putting yourself out there." you tell her seriously as you cup her face and peer up into her blue eyes; a soft smile playing at your mouth as you notice her own turning up into a soft half-heart smile.

"Since when did you get so wise?" she quipped trying to be a little bit chipper despite just what happened. You wouldn't know it but you being here with her meant everything to the girl.

"I've always been wise, people are always surprised when I give advice. The problem is I don't often follow my own advice." you shrug with a small smile. "Perhaps I should more often huh?"

Her head tilted into your palm and you couldn't help but lick your lips; watching as her gaze fell to them at the movement of your tongue, you noticed she didn't look away for a hot minute and your lips pulled up into a small smile. "And what advice are you not following?" Robin asked softly looking back up to yours.

You hum with a slight smile and shrugged. "All of it I guess. See, the truth is I never liked Tammy Thomas. You wanna know why?"

She hummed in reply and in question as she absently continued nuzzling into your palm. "Why's that?"

"Because she had everything that I wanted." you scan her face wondering if she would get the meaning behind your words. She didn't, of course, she didn't but if the world was showing you anything today it was that you sometimes had to take the risk so you went for it.

"She had your attention, your devotion, and your love. You talked about her in ways that I wish you'd have talked to me about. You looked at her the way that I've always wanted you to look at me…" your words were softly spoken seeing the realization dawn on her face along with the blush that graced her cheeks that you could feel the heat of them under your hands.

"W-what?! Since when?" she spluttered eyes wide in awe.

"Since we were 13," you confess with a slight laugh as your head drops to her chest. "I've been in love with you since we were 13. Probably longer to be honest, but I knew when I was 13 that you were all I ever wanted and it fucking killed me when you're eyes would look at other girls the way that I always craved you to look at me like that."

"All that time…shit…" Robin whispered; her breath tickling the top of your head as she leaned her cheek against your hair. You laughed a bit and nodded.

"Trust me I know…I've wanted to tell you for so fucking long Robin trust me…I almost did but I was always afraid of ruining our friendship…afraid of what it'd mean if I found myself unable to have you by my side in whatever compacity." you confessed further and finally raised your head to look at her. She didn't say anything for a moment and you were starting to get nervous.

"Say something please…you're kind of freaking me out right now with the staring." you lick your lips nervously but your tongue barely had a chance to disappear back into your mouth before Robin leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours.

You froze for a split second as your brain tried to comprehend that your childhood best friend was kissing you. But only for a second. Not long enough for Robin to pull away even if she wanted to because goddamnit you'd been waiting for this moment for years. So you did the only thing you could think of and that was to pull her closer by the back of her neck with one hand while the other grabbed a handful of her plush thigh; trying to pull her as close to you as you could because the taste of her lipgloss was addictive as much as the feel of her beneath your hands were. The kiss was almost desperate even when it wasn't rushed. Many years of pent-up longing pour deeply into the act of physical love as you try to convey just how much Robin meant to you. It was different, sure you had kissed boys before. During your phase of trying to get over Robin when you thought she would never look at you twice like that. But it never held a candle to finally being able to express the love and devotion that you held for this smart, funny, and goofy girl in front of you.

You wanted to take things deeper. You wanted to hold her and kiss her, you wanted to cradle her so close to you and cuddle her at night; never leaving each other's side. But you knew that you weren't going to do any of that. Not until you heard her side of things. So, with a regrettable longing, you pull away to study her dazed expression. You licked your lips; tasting her on them along with the smear of lipgloss she'd applied that morning as you studied her. Giving her a moment to open her eyes and gather her wits.

"That was….wow." there was a sort of giddiness about her face and for a second you thought you kissed her dumb but her eyes focused again on you and you waited with a raised brow and curious eyes.

"I didn't know I needed that…" she mumbled studying your face. "For the longest time, I thought I needed to look elsewhere for someone who loved me…but I guess I should have been looking in front of me huh?" you chuckle slightly and shake your head.

"Look babe, I don't want you to think that you need to give me an answer now or if you don't feel the same that's completely fine. I don't want you to think you need to choose me."

"But you're a perfect choice…" Robin's arms wrapped around your neck to pull you closer. "It's not just me saying this because you're my best friend…you've always been my best friend and you've always had my back. Always there for me when no one else would fight for me." you try to shrug it off and you looked away from her imploring gaze but she wouldn't let you. Instead, she nudged your face back to look at her and there was a softness about her features.

"I love you. And not just as a best friend…I guess I always have just took me until now to actually realize what I needed was right in front of me all along." Robin pressed her forehead against yours and smiled at you. "Forgive me for not seeing it sooner?"

Your eyes rolled a bit and you wrapped your arms around her waist to draw her closer. "Nothing to forgive birdie." your fingers wiggle against her sides making her giggle as you gave her light tickles.

"Thanks for always being there for me…You always were there to pick me up when I needed it." Robin giggled and your features softened at the sound.

Squeezing her sides a bit you looked up into her pretty eyes and smiled softly. "As long as I'm here. No one will hurt you. I promise." you whisper before tipping her chin up so that you could kiss her again.

A knock at the bathroom door broke through the moment and it began to open. A hesitent Steve peeked his head around the door with his hand over his eyes. "I'm not looking but are you guys okay?" he asked.

"Yes Steve." you laugh a bit watching as his hand fell from his eyes in relief and surveyed the scene in front of him. His brows popping up on his forehead as he saw the pair of you. "Oh just say it." you quip feeling a smile tug at your lips even when youe words were meant to sound annoyed.

"I totally told you so."

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[slaughterbeachdogma95]

The Box Car, Looking & the Song for the Moon. 08/03/24

TW: Suicide

Last night, as i sat down after contemplatively standing at the edge of the road where freight trucks went by like charging bison, and a friend listened to me ramble, lending an ear, a small sharply boxed shaped car drove backwards in a perfect line right past us. No hesitation in its steer. Perfectly parallel to the sidewalk I was sunk in.

Two days ago it was my final night on my trip to Vietnam that I took with 7 others. As I had planned (loosely), I took 4 200mg Tramadol’s, had roughly 2 and a half beers, hoping that night I would fall over on the side of the road, or sit down by a lake, and not get back up again. It took a couple of hours of fumbling about before I vomited up 2 of the pills, and ultimately, lived.

I was comforted by those around me, and I cried, but the ever expanding unknown within me that drove me to do what I did didn’t leave. It usually does after I attempt, it’s happened a handful of times in the past year. And so I was sitting there, cupping strings of words in my hands, trying to pull together a tangible thread of a sentence that might explain, or justify.

But the backwards driving box car completely blanked me of any will or reasoning to make any sense. It was such an abrupt and surreal pause to such a vulnerable and intense discussion, something I don’t do often.

I saw myself, literally and figuratively, in the box car. I saw myself always spouting absurdities and unfunny bullshit to keep spirits high and alleviate- no, distract from ANY possible conflict. A poor, weak trait of mine. I saw myself behind the wheel, looking out the front window as I soared backwards down the wrong side of the road. Not even trying to kill myself. Just for the bit. Something to be remembered for.

There are now 2 things in the world that can completely halt my racing mind;

1. In that moment, the box car, and

2. The moon.

I don’t always see the moon, but I am always looking for her. And whenever I am down on my luck, scraping pennies, sitting in uber’s that cost fourty dollars and trapped in my own head letting all my worst fears and anxieties become realities, I always end up looking up, and she is there. As if to say, “Quiet now, shut the fuck up. Nobody else is here, it’s just you and me. We don’t have to talk. I already know. Just look.” And god I love to look.

Looking is one of my favourite things to do. When I love a person it brings me unmeasurable joy to give them everything I physically can, even to my own detriment. And I do horrible things to myself for love. But a way that I can love, love everybody, without hurting myself, is to give my attention, to sit and listen, and look. The weight that anchors me to the unknown shifts into my heart and comes out of my eyes.

And her eyes are so beautiful. Corny shit.

When I don’t have anyone that I can give to as much as I so desperately desire, I look at the moon, and I can do it for hours. Completely absorbed. No judgement, all knowing, two absurdities sitting in absolutes.

I wrote this poem for the moon, I don’t think it’s particularly my best work (I don’t think i have ’works’ im not particularly a writer), but I am lazy and I don’t know how to finish this piece. But I think it’s sweet, and I mean what I wrote wholeheartedly.

Thanks for reading

song for the moon

One day I will write my song for the moon and it will be quick and it will be easy

and I will have enough platelets in me to be able to spill over for her

I would sing about all the songs already written for the Moon

and how nobody is quite as fond of her as I am

O Moon! Everytime sentences in my head begin to overlap

I always remember to look up and find you

And when I do you aren’t always there

But nevertheless you give me the time i need

there isn’t a waking second where i am not thinking about how beautiful you are

[too-young-to-be-too-old]

Ethan

I only ever really come on here whenever I feel like shit has hit the fan and I need to word vomit but don't have anyone to word vomit on to. I recognize my melancholia as superficial but this is my feed so I don't give a fuck let me simmer in my sadness like a soup salted with tears.

Context: my boyfriend, partner, person I fell in love with, Ethan, broke up with me on Saturday. I, for whatever godforsaken reason, thought that if I bought him flowers and made this big speech about wanting to try again and putting in the effort to make things work that he would take me back. He told me that he was feeling "unfulfilled" since October and that he didn't realize it but thought that our relationship was "short term." I met this man on July 30th, we went to plant stores, the river, many coffee shops, book stores, his hometown, my hometown, his retreat in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, etc. I loved this man. I still love him with every fiber of my being. I'm now going to rant about the newfound situation.

He called me his best friend when we were breaking up. Obviously, he was mine, too. We've been texting almost as much as before, just less hearts and "good morning"s and cute things like that. We've hung out twice since breaking up. The first time being right after my failed attempt and the second time being today.

when I tell you the way that looking into his silvery blue eyes with their little stepping stones of brown cascading throughout makes me feel like my heart has found its voice again after an eternal night of waiting...

he hugged me in the way that every human deserves to be hugged, holding on to my very being as though I were a monarch butterfly he was afraid was mid-migration...

I imagined a life with him. The constant fear that I have for the future is dulled when I imagine that he is there standing beside me. He was there for me when I was ready to give up on everything. I wish I could give him what he needs now without it desecrating my soul.

Taylor Swift recently released Midnights with the last song on the album entitled "Mastermind." In it, she describes careful planning that will give her what she wants: love. "No one wanted to play with me as a little kid so I've been scheming like a criminal ever since / To make them love me and make it seem effortless." I am confronted with the mortality that is my love and I feel like if I do not create a meticulous plan to bring Ethan back then I will lose my hope for this world.

Ethan was the Nick to my Charlie. The golden retriever to my black cat. The confident, self-assured, kind-hearted bozo to my anxious over-thinker.

He told me that if given some time he might realize that we were better off together and that in a few months he may want to come back to us. I told him I wouldn't get my hopes up because I want to respect what he wants and I can't force love. I can't force love. I can't control what he does. But my heart hopes and longs for a time that may never exist again. To make them love me and make it seem effortless. If I stay in his life, if I remind him of the joy that we had, the companionship that I afforded him, maybe he will return to me.

(i mean he did touch my butt today)

I am journaling now because I recognize my own insanity and I wish to burden no one else with it. The last time I tried to Mastermind my way into someone loving me it only ended with me crying myself to sleep listening to the same song on repeat. Well I'm already at that point since Ethan broke up with me so what else do I have left to lose.

I'd tell him of my plans if only they didn't concern him. We've schemed together. How to show up and make the best entrance possible with who was there to perceive it. He's hot, how could he not be a show stopper? I have to put in all the effort to be even close to his level.

I don't know what my next move is. I think I need to just stay in his life, as close to his partner as I can. He recognized me as his partner, and I don't want that to change. I'll text him, analyzing every word because my anxiety will tell me that he's mad at me or thinks I'm weird even though the only thing he ever kept from me was something he didn't even understand. I'll hang out with him, feeling the pull to hold his hand and rub his back when he's sad. I'll be there. He deserves that.

Of course on this day, the first time meeting up with him since deciding I wouldn't give up, the universe puts us in matching/complimentary outfits of boots, black jeans, and light beige sweaters.

God, I'm psycho. But I don't know. I'm just sad and I miss him. We were a team.

I feel numb. Goodbye.