#this might be their best sweatshirt release yet

[f3ralbadomens]

this sweatshirt goes so hard

[grapejuicestyless]

I’ll Love You, Forever.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst

Summery: Conrad wants to become a doctor. Why should you stop that?

The platform near the train was nearly empty. It was so early, not even the early risers were up yet. It was the first train of the day but it was nearly night with how close the clock was to midnight.

My left hand clutches onto my coat, holding the collar between my knuckles tightly. I have too many shirts on. A tank-top, and a sweatshirt thats grey with the the words, Brown University, scribbled across the chest. The bottoms of my jeans are too long, so the dew wets the hems until they are soaked around my ankles.

“I’m proud of you.” I tell him, watching how his face, previously turned towards where the train will inevitably pull up turn to look at my face. He hangs his head, he’s taller and the wetness from his hair leaves tiny droplets on my skin.

I don’t really mind this. Our clothes clinging to our bodies because we ran through the passing rainstorm. How its so cold this winter that our fingers sting and our noses are numb.

“I want to help people.” He says it like he needs a reason. Like he’s thinking of staying. But he won’t, I wasted the last of my gas to get here. My car is stranded in the parking lot.

“I know.” I can feel his heartbeat under his coat when I put my hand over his chest. I can feel the cold nipping at his skin when I place it over his cheek.

When the cry of a horn sounds in the distance, he becomes aware just how limited our remaining time. He doesn’t understand just how little we have left though. I know it, but he never will. That’s how I want it.

He looks away from me, and the sigh that releases from his mouth is shaky.

“Don’t be discouraged. I’m right here. Promise.” When he looks back at me, he’s lowered himself even lower. Partly by himself, and partly at the mercy of my guiding hand that’s slipping from his cheek to the nape of his neck.

While we stand like this, I let my lips place their mark on his forehead. His eyes are fluttering shut, but I can’t find it in me to let the darkness in. I have so much time to wander within in, befriend it. I want to cement this moment in my memory forever.

I won’t be here when he gets back, I know that. I knew it when he first called me in last December talking about transferring to a medical program. I knew it in August when he told me he was going to Stanford. And I know it now that the train is pulling up, ready to take him halfway across the world.

“I’m not angry at you for leaving.” I tell him. I know he doesn’t quite get what I mean. He thinks of it one way, but within the next few months, I hope he’ll understand what my words really meant. I hope my disappearance won’t discourage him from his dreams. I hope he becomes the greatest doctor to ever live. I want that so badly for him, I might fool myself into thinking I want it more.

“Do great things, okay?” When he finally stands straight, the doors have opened. The seats are emptier than the train station.

He waves goodbye and whispers back, “I love you.” And his eyes have never looked so vibrant.

“I’ll love you, forever.” I whisper back, letting the doors consume him. He sits on the empty seat directly across from me. His eyes trace me until I’m gone. I feel them leave, I feel him leave.

I don’t know why I never told him. Maybe it was because if I told him I was dying, I knew he wouldn’t have gone. He wouldn’t have left my side, just like how he never left Susannah. I don’t want him to drive for miles, wondering if I’m still breathing.

He’ll hold it against me forever. How I never let him say goodbye, never let him try. I hope he knows just how happy I am for him. Even if he can’t see it.

I made him promise to do great things, but he already has. He gave me the best life I could’ve asked for. So I feel no regret leaving it like this. I feel no pain when I go.

[groovesnjams]

“Somethin’ Bout You” by Mickey Guyton

DV:

Someone smarter than me could probably say a lot about how Mickey Guyton spent the past two years releasing heartrending songs about being a Black woman in America and has now - ahead of an as-yet-unannounced sophomore album - released a song about how nice it is to be in love. Maybe about how the country establishment - and fandom - had a brief window where it seemed like both just might reckon with entrenched racism and bigotry, but that window swung closed shortly after Guyton performed at and cohosted the ACMs. In that context “Somethin’ Bout You”  sounds like a savvy retrenchment, but that context is complicated by the way these kind of songs have always been a a good part of Guyton’s lane: straightforward narratives about love and breakups that have just enough detail in the songwriting and excess passion in the vocal. In that sense, “Somethin’ Bout You” is almost a return to form. The slant rhyme on me/tee-shirt is charming as hell, and the way her vocal phrasing bounces and bounds over the production: fantastic. The way that production sounds like a Casio keyboard’s “country” setting: less so. Generic production has always been Guyton’s weak point, and when she was leveling up in songwriting and vocals it was an easy one to forgive. But at this point, knowing what she’s capable of, it’s hard not to wish she’d find collaborators more interesting and capable than a Florida Georgia Liner.

MG:

In the same way that I can’t really hold it against the high volume of art featuring nude or semi-nude goddesses -- the majority of which is not making any profound statement, just confirming that, yes, titties -- I also can’t be upset with Mickey Guyton that her comments on love aren’t deeper than smiles and a well-fitted tee shirt. As a species, we like what we like, and most of it is so ubiquitous that when you put it plainly it sounds like worn cliches. Country is not the proving ground of niche or marginal desires, it’s the rock concealing all the worms and decay. In that way, the best thing country music can do is to keep chronicling the lust for soft faces, basic wear, natural settings, and coupling because by virtue of sheer heft, it confirms the status quo. Obviously, there is room to be perverse, there always is, but to expect it of Guyton is unfair -- as DV points out, schmaltz is her lane. “Somethin’ Bout You” is both rote and pleasant, forgettable and comforting, dull and robust. As much as I yearn for something dynamic to take place, I have to remember that Guyton doesn’t want dynamics, she wants the familiarity of a decades old sweatshirt or the absorbing warmth of a freshly filled bathtub. This song is devoid of tension on purpose but the neutrality is so carefully considered that I almost don’t miss it.

[biffsposts]

2023 Best Of

Old Head Favorites

Damien Jurado came out with three albums this year but my favorite by far is Motorcycle Madness. It might be one of my favorites all time by him. It is hard to describe but it has a real jazz noir feel to it, yet it is warm and inviting like getting dropped into the recording sessions with the musicians. I can’t recommend it enough but it might take a few listens to truly appreciate. The National came out with two albums this year and I loved both of them but Laugh Track is the better of the two. Not as monochromatic as Frankenstein. Yo La Tengo’s This Stupid World was the first album I fell in love with this year. I describe albums like this as comfort food but this one is your favorite sweater album, warm, familiar and comfortable.  Aselestine is gorgeous.  Cate Le Bon reinvigorated Wilco with some studio weirdness that they’ve been lacking since A Ghost is Born. That is not to say I haven’t loved other albums since but it is refreshing to see an opener like Infinite Surprise. Cousin has a bite to it. A reinvigorated Blur is great too. The Ballad of Darren is my go album to when I don’t know what I want to listen to. It is consistent all the way through and its great to have them back.

Rap

Rap did not have a giant release that hit this year. I am more than fine with that.  I’ve been digging the underground for years and there is not a better underground rapper the past ten years then Billy Woods! The man is poet and sage. His rhymes are so dense and rich with double and triple meanings that it takes many, many listens to unpack but his flow and cadence is always instant so every listen including the first are very rewarding. Kenny Segal is an amazing producer and he and the Alchemist are the two best in the game right now. Segal mixes up the production from Acid Jazz Frenzies to drone loops and Woods handles each curveball deftly and confidently. His other album We Buy Diabetic Test Strips with his partner Elucid as Armand Hammer also deserves your time as well as features like the opener on my next favorite rap album of the year, The Aux by Blockhead. If you want to know how strong Rap is right now just listen to this album. It is a who’s who of the underground rap scene. With Woods, Aesop Rock, Navy Blue, Danny Brown, Bruiser Wolf, Open Mike Eagle you can’t go wrong on a single track. The production is incredible and if I said Segal and Alchemist are tops, Blockhead is not far behind if not behind at all (as I write this I am convincing myself that this album is on those two’s level production wise). Speaking of The Alchemist his hidden album with Earl Sweatshirt was finally revealed and it lives up the hype and exceeds it.  Earl is in his bag on this album and he is lively and warm, fatherhood has done him well! I love short Rap albums that play like punk rock albums and this one is the best of them this year 2-3-minute songs, 11 songs under 30 minutes is my jam. Vin Skully is one my favorite songs of the year. Black Thought continues his reign as the most consistently solid emcee of my generation.  With every output he cements himself as a top 5 rapper of all time, this time teaming up with the amazing El Michels Affair. This pairing is perfect and feeds my need for the rap I grew up on while also sounding current and vital. Navy Blue rounds of the top five with Ways of Knowing. I have loved watching Navy grow with each release and this is his best to date. The live instrumentation adds a warmth to his reflections on family and life.  I love the positivity and gratitude weaved throughout this one.

Jazz Hybrids

I am getting more and more into jazz with every trip around the sun. I know I’m getting old when I crave hot dogs, McDonalds cheeseburgers and can watch almost every Dodger game from start to finish, now throw in Jazz and I’m almost officially retired.  However, these are not Jazz albums in the purest sense they are rap, electronic, blues hybrid that meet jazz in an abstract way.  McKinley Dixon’s Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? is another under 30-minute rap meets jazz album that I absolutely love. Conscious hip hop meets jazz almost in the vein of Guru’s Jazzmatazz records but this one has more of a theme centered around three novels by Toni Morrison. The album is concise and dense and being under 30 minutes leaves listener wanting more. Sparkle Division’s Foxy was a very welcome surprise this year. Jazz meets electronica. Apparently, this album is about a hangover post a debauched Hollywood evening but I don’t get that in fact I would welcome hangovers if they felt like this. Astral wanderings are how I’d describe it, getting lost in introspection and losing track of time and space. A great jogging album.  If you liked the instrumentation on To Pimp a Butterfly but wish it was even jazzier and out there then Kassa Overall’s Animals might be for you. Now I’m not saying this album is on that level but it is in that vein. Danny Brown featuring on Clock Ticking is a top ten song this year. Another cosmic adventure in this jazz hybrid feature is Spirits’ The Circling Sun. Piano, Bass and drums are the backbones of this album but the flutes, keyboards and other instrumentation provide the fuel this album uses to take you on a lovely trip.  Finally, we have Lonnie Holley who blends jazz, blues, spoken word poetry to create a lush history lesson.  It is important to never forget this country horrific past in regards to slavery, racism, and oppression. Oh Me, Oh My is a beautiful reminder of that struggle that offers hope and beauty, and how art is our way to reconciliation. Art and beauty connect our humanity and if we focus on that, there are many bridges that can be repaired.

Shoegaze adjacent

I don’t know what Shoegaze is anymore but I do know if it is a descriptor I’ll give it a try.  Wall of sound, crashing and sweeping distorted guitars, propulsive rhythms are all things I like and these albums have different elements of shoegaze but are probably not all shoegaze by purists’ standards.  Slowdive’s everything is alive might be the album I listened to most this year. I have always loved this band and it amazing that they keep getting better 32 years since they first started and with a 22-year break before it second to last album. This album shimmers and shines with joy and peace.  It is the sound of how I want to age with grace and some new surprises that keep things fresh.  Prayer Remembered is a top ten song of the year. Speaking of coming back from a long hiatus Drop Nineteen return with their first album in thirty years. Full transparency I had never heard of this band prior to this year but I’m glad I was introduced to them this year. I know nostalgia can be a dirty word but this album is the best sense of the word. Hard Light intertwines Shoegaze elements while the lyrics celebrate past glories with a current sound invoking a sense of longing and reflection but grounded in the present and embracing it.  Hotline TNT’s Cartwheel and Dogears’ Blockbuster bring a more poppier sound to this group, like emo meets shoegaze. My friend Antony described Blockbuster as Clarity meets 100 broken windows and that was all I needed to dive in and I’ve been swimming with it since August. Hotline TNT is like No Joy or Clairo meets Siamese Dream. Dreamy atmospheres, textured guitars and introspective lyrics. Speaking of Dreamy atmospheres Parannoul’s After the Magic is as dreamy as it gets.  I’ve been a big fan of Parannoul’s shoegaze bliss since I first heard To See the Next Part of the Dream. His new album, although still very shoegazy, adds more melody and bedroom pop into the mix.  The lyrics are entirely in Korean and like Sigur Ros I have no idea what he is singing about and I really like that aspect of this album, the vocals are just another instrument.

Experimental (I Guess)

Experimental is a very loose term to describe these albums, but I don’t know how else to label them.  Avant-Garde might be a better term as they take traditional genres and push and stretch them into new directions. Los Angeles by Jackknife Lee, Lol Tolhurst (The Cure Drummer), and Budgie (Siouxsie and the Creatures drummer) is a great collaborative album. Many guest singers including James Murphy, Isaac Brock, The Edge and Lonnie Holley provide variety to the percussion, electronic grooves of this album.  My friend Aaron described it as LCD meets Fugazi meets Blur or U2.  If that is your jam check this one out, it does not disappoint.  Young Fathers’ Heavy Heavy combine elements of indie, rap, funk and soul to create a great groove album. I put this album on every time I want to be put in a good mood, I can’t help to dance when this one is on. Algiers’ Shook like Los Angeles is collaborative effort. This album reminds me of a patchwork quilt with different pieces yielding to one overarching blanket, every guest adds some different textures but it is still Algiers dark yet hopeful view of the current and the future. Green Iris is a top ten song of the year. Yves Tumor, like Prince before them is genre unto themselves. For this album they tackle their own Gospel with some Shoegaze and elements of soul and glam. It really is something you have to hear to understand and decided if it is for you.  It is fascinating to me and plus they put on an incredible live show. The final album in this Category is Maria BC’s Spike Field. This is an avant-garde folk album in the same style as Grouper. The out of tune piano is featured in most songs and the lyrics are brooding contemplative.  I have fallen asleep to this album more then any other this year and it always yields strange dreams.

[alstyle]

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[pilgaardday57]

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[silverdelirium]

So it's like this Fluffy fic where we lose our virginity to Draco

GODDESS | D.M

summary: soft!draco taking your virginity

warnings: corruption kink?, loss of v card, soft sex.

———

you didn’t know if it was the way he was running his hands down your hair all the way to your back or just the thought of being so close to him that had gotten you like this.

and it seemed like a scratch you couldn’t seem to reach no matter how much you squirmed in an attempt to get rid of it. draco, your boyfriend of 2 months now, took notice of it, growing concerned that you might be hurt.

“baby, you alright?” he piped in a soft yet concerned tone.

“i don’t know- my stomach is feeling weird.”

draco shot up at that, cursing himself internally for not doing anything sooner. you squealed at the sudden movement, since you were laying on his chest, he brought you up with him.

he turned you by your waist so you were straddling him. his eyes searching your face and body for any type of bigger pain. “what does it feel like, love? tell me. i’ll get someone to bring you something” he soothed, trying his best to keep you happy.

“i-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, looking down at his hands that were settled innocently on your thighs, your breath hitching. “it feels all fluttery and tingly right here.” you mumbled, rubbing your lower belly.

oh, thought draco. his dick perked up at this in his trousers. he gave a mere chuckle and said, “darling... i can relieve that. but i have a question to ask first.”

you beamed and nodded at him to continue.

“has somebody ever touched you here before?” he asked before cupping your clothed cunt. the material soaked. you gasped at this, the feeling unfamiliar, you weren’t even aware that you were... wet. you obviously knew what happened when someone gets aroused, but it had never crossed your mind fully. too caught up in schoolwork and the people around you, you never got some time to give yourself some time. draco knew this and made it his mission to help you relax in your own thoughts when you started dating.

“i- no.” you admitted shyly. face heating up by the second. “baby, look at me.” he demanded, tone still soft, he let go of your sex and brought his hands to your cheeks instead, making you look at him. “is this okay with you? will you let me help you feel good?”

you wanted this. of course you did, but... what if you didn’t meet his expectations? you never did this before and according to what you’ve heard it could’ve made you bleed, people say it hurt! you didn’t want that for draco or yourself for that matter.

“i just- what if i’m not exactly what you expect me to be draco? what if it doesn’t feel good?”

“are you asking if it won’t feel good for me or for you? because i assure you that the sight of you alone could bring me more pleasure than anything in the world” he replied, tone now a bit harsher, almost offended that you thought of yourself that way. yes, draco had done things before but they didn’t mean shit to him. he could go his entire life without any sexual relief if it meant you were pleased.

“both” you muttered, head dropping down in embarrassment.

“sweetheart, if you really want to do this, let’s do it. i’ll be with you every second of it and if you’re not ready then i could wait a lifetime for you.” said draco, once again grabbing your face and bringing it up to his eyes. heart swelling at the mere sight of you.

you looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity in them. so you gave it no more thought and nodded with a small smile. making him smile back at you and delivering a sweet kiss on your forehead before traveling down to your lips.

and as you continuously made out, he flipped you both over and laid you down on the soft pillows of his bed. disconnecting his lips from yours to kiss down your heck, sucking gently enough to leave hues of a light purple on your neck.

he tugged at your sweatshirt and broke contact with your neck. “y/n, are you completely sure?” he asked, needing to hear you say that you were okay with this.

you nodded, desperate to get on with it. “i want words my love” he demanded, yet the soft tone not breaking and gave your waist a reassuring squeeze. “yes draco” you whispered in a breathy tone. draco gave you a small smile and kissed your forehead as he lifted your shirt up, chucking it behind him once it was completely off, he sat down on his knees and took off his shirt too, as to give you some type of calm.

he swallowed hard and tried not to immediately dive in between your breasts but instead leaned down and kissed you passionately while he took of your skirt. you finished kicking it off your feet and broke the kiss for a moment to take a breath. and at the same time you saw draco look down at his girl in only your underwear. you gave herself a pat in the back for choosing a nice set for today. his eyes were blacked out with lust, pupils dilated more than ever. you was shaped like a greek goddess in draco’s eyes and he was willing to fight anyone who thought otherwise.

“sweet merlin” he breathed out. his trousers straining now more than ever. but he knew how to control himself, for you.

he lifted his gaze up to his girlfriend’s gaze and saw how her expression was more flushed than usual around him. he leaned back down to pepper kisses on her chest, reaching behind her back which she slightly arched, giving him the consent to unclasp her bra. and he did with a few fumblings here and there.

draco pulled back a little to get a good view of her bare breasts and jesus-

she truly was a goddess.

“baby you are so damn gorgeous, i’m the luckiest man alive” he mumbled, massaging gently her tits and giving the nipples experimental kisses, which were rewarded by sweet whimpers and heavy breaths of y/n.

“can- can i take them off pretty girl?” he asked, hands at the waistband of her panties. “yes, take them off please”

he got them down slowly, throwing the soaked material at the sight. and draco was sure he could’ve easily just came right then and there, but this was about y/n, not him.

“my god, baby” he grunted as she spread her legs lightly, craving those praises. he could now fully see her naked body, pretty tits, gorgeous figure and dripping pussy, all for himself.

he caught her lips with his as his hands went from playing with her soft breasts to travel down to her heat. her breath hitched as he got closer, yet managed to continue to make out with him, his tongue lovingly exploring her mouth.

and as he finally reached the place she needed him the most, he pulled away from the kiss and leaned down to suck on her nipples, making her release a soft moan as she ran his hair in her hands. his hands found her clit easily and drew gentle figure eights on it, her legs spreading wider and a firm moan passed her lips, making him almost pop out of the coffins of his pants.

“shit dray- just like that” she moaned out as his pointer finger continued playing a bit faster with her clit and his middle went lower to tease at her entrance, his fingers now covered in her juices. he slowly inserted his middle finger inside her, grunting lowly at the tightness.

“ah! yes draco fuck!” she cried out when he started to move it inside and out repeatedly, increasing the speed by the second, his pointer finger now joining the middle one slowly as his thumb took over the stimulation on her clit. “i- dray my stomach-”

he detached his mouth from her tits and looked up at her. she looked absolutely flawless, mouth agape and pretty sounds escaping it, eyes slightly hazed and brows furrowed.

“cum sweetheart, let it go for me” he rasped out. and she came without hesitation, all over his fingers, drenching them on her arousal.

y/n was brought back to reality from the state of bliss to the feeling of her boyfriend peppering kisses on her cheek, trailing down to her collarbone. “how was that my love?” he asked, voice laced with adoration. “i-it was good”

“you did a great job baby”

“dray i- i want to go all the way please��� she admitted, tone slightly laced with nervousness. “are you sure princess, you know i can wait.” he said, moving to press a kiss on her forehead while massaging her side with his other hand.

“i’m- i’m sure draco please” she pleaded, moving to grip the hem of his pants, doe eyes staring up at him.

“your wish is my command” he smirked, tossing his pants off.

he positioned himself on top of her again, his hands on either side of her face, her legs were tightly closed, the anxiousness of not being enough for him slowly coming back.

“can you spread this pretty legs for me baby?” he questioned, one of his hands coming down to massage her thighs. “i- draco.” she said, voice slightly shaky.

draco took notice of this and removed his arms from beside her, instead sitting up on his knees, grabbing hers and placing a kiss on them. “what’s wrong baby, do you want me to stop?” his tone full of concern.

“what do i do if it hurts?” she asked, fumbling with the bed sheets under her with a cute frown on her face, not meeting his eyes. “baby i’ll be gentle. i’ll never hurt you you know that.” he stated.

she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts together. “you know what. yes, let’s do it, just be gentle please”.

“of course my love” he said before reaching for her hands and interlacing them together and once again bringing them to the side of her head.

y/n spread her legs wide enough for him to fit in, his painfully erect cock now in line with her opening, twitching slightly.

draco reached in between them and took his cock, pushing it inside her tight cunt slightly, she gasped at the stretch. he looked up and she gave a reassuring nod, draco pushed in more and watched as her back slightly arched. once he was further inside she released a small whimper, the first tear falling, yet she brought him down by his neck, smashing their lips together.

“move” she mumbled out between kisses, but he heard her clearly, moving in and out slowly, she gasped at this and bucked her hips up. the pleasure increasing every time he moved. subsiding the pain.

he then found a rythm and started to thrust into her gently, yet enough to pleasure them both immensely.

“dray-” she moaned out. “that’s right baby, say my name.” he grunted, eyes greadily watching her face contorting into pleasure. she moaned louder when he reached for her clit, amplifying the pleasure, her legs slightly shaking. “fuck yes, just like that!” she whimpered, back arching when she felt that bubbling sensation close again.

he gave a moan of his when her walls clenched around him. with the sight of before imprinted in his mind and the feeling of now, he wasn’t gonna hold much longer. “shit- are you close my pretty girl? gonna cum on my cock?” he asked seductively. she gave a weak mhm, not trusting her mouth to give a coherent answer. “then cum baby, wanna see you fall apart for me” he rasped out.

she came for the second time that night with a loud cry of his name. him following behind as he quickly pulled out. still stimulating her clit to ride out her high. he quickly came on her stomach at the mere sight of y/n cumming.

once they both climbed down from their high, he landed beside her, breathing heavily. but quickly recollecting himself and reaching for y/n, carrying her to the bathroom as he peppered kisses on her head.

he sat her down on the toilet so he could fill up the bath.

he sat her down on the tub, him behind her.

“you did amazing baby” he murmured in her ear as she collected the bubbles. her face heated up as she mumbled a thanks.

“once we clean you up we can go eat whatever you want and then cuddle for the whole day, hm?”

“yeah” she chuckled, face still heated up as he massaged her scalp with some shampoo, pressing kisses in her shoulder every now and then.

“my goddess” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his cheek against her head.

———

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[cherienymphe]

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

~

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere. 

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear. 

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw. 

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle. 

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous. 

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?” 

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised. 

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​​ @gotnofucks​​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​​ @doozywoozy​​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​​ @ksjksjkv​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Eight (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

Sorry for such a long delay!! It’s my little boy’s first birthday this week so I’ve been running around making arrangements and picking up last minute presents! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. It’s only 3K words, but it is a build up ready for the next chapter which will contain smut! Not full blown smut (I don’t think Mycroft is ready for that yet!) but still smutty nonetheless!

I will separate the smutty bit enough so that you can skip it if you want, but it will be referenced later on in that chapter!

Word Count- 3062

This morning differed from the last few that you had experienced since staying at Mycroft's home, namely because Mycroft had awoken before you this time, but also because it was the first morning you had ever been awoken by long fingers prodding at your forehead. That and also because, despite last night's late events, you managed to arise at a reasonable 9am.

"Did you know there are a lot nicer ways to wake somebody up?" You questioned, opening your eyes to see Mycroft staring at you with a slight frown to his brow. He retracted his hand slightly and shifted to sit a little higher.

"You know, Sherlock as a child once woke me in a similar way. I felt small scratches on my eyebrows and woke up to see him crouched over me with a smug little grin on his face. As it turns out, he had slipped sleeping pills into my cup of tea before bed and in my slumber covered my eyebrows in toothpaste." You covered your mouth with your hand and snorted slightly. "He'd come in to see if there was anything left beneath them, which, of course, there wasn't.. claimed it was just an experiment. I'd like to laugh and be more dignified about it upon looking back, but I struggle because he was only six and already a sod."

"Okay, you've proven there are in fact worse ways to wake up." You didn't make big deals out of it, but every time Mycroft welcomed you a little more into the stories of his youth, you can't help but feel your heart warm. It may not seem like much, but coming from Mycroft, a very private man who hasn't been treated the best over the years, it meant everything. You stretched and moved your hands up to rub your eyes, flinching a little as your fingers brushed against the bit of your head above your eyebrows. "Bugger." You winced, poking again and feeling a small lump.

"I was going to warn you but you laughed at my traumatic eyebrow removal story." You groaned and recalled your memory of last night and where you believe the bruise originated from.

"I jumped into bed last night sulking a bit that you wouldn't talk to me and uh.. misjudged.." Mycroft snickered slightly from your side, you swatted his arm. "Tit. I'm blaming you. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't go all Han Solo in carbonite on me." You spoke playfully, letting him know you weren't truly peeved.

"I thought you said it was cute?"

"That was clearly a concussion talking." You stretched once more and climbed out of the bed, walking over to a mirror above a dressing table and rolling your eyes. "Might need your special government powers to clear out the cafe else Ms Woodall will think we've had a domestic." Bernice Woodall, owner of one of your favourite little cafes settled on the outskirts of St James' Park was a very.. particular lady. She could have a good laugh one moment, and start a quarrel with a customer over the amount they stir their tea the next. But, you'd have to admit, she has one hell of an all day breakfast menu; you could practically taste one of her omelettes just by thinking about it, making your stomach growl loudly.

"I would but, if I am to be very honest, she genuinely scares me a little. I think she could overthrow MI5 so I daren't even try." You stood and moved into Mycroft's bedroom, grabbing your bag of clothes and picking through a few of the pairs of your jeans Anthea had brought and scanning through the t-shirts. Your fingers brushed over the creases of the shirt that had formed from being stuffed in the bag and frowned.

"Perhaps it would be more suitable for you to pop those in one of the chest of drawers? I'm sure I have at least one drawer empty.." Myc's voice came from behind you and you fell from your crouching position, clutching your heart.

"You and your bloody spy legs, you just scared the shit out of me." You stood back up, your pile of today's clothes in one hand and the bag of the rest in the other. "Giving me a drawer in your place already? Ooh Myc you are serious." You grinned playfully, following him as he guided you to a set of drawers in the opposite corner of the room. Mycroft halted and opened his mouth to make some kind of comment but you cut him off, placing your folded clothes inside the Edwardian furniture. "Only teasing.. I'm just glad you haven't kicked me out yet. Though I don't think my own bed will ever feel as comfortable as yours. I might not want to go back now you've spoilt me, you'll just have to be blunt when you're bored of me." You winked at him and carried your outfit into the en suite bathroom to get ready. Mycroft headed over to his wardrobe to pluck out his own clothes, electing to remain somewhat casual for your trip to breakfast with a pair of navy chinos and a lighter blue button up before muttering slightly under his breath.

"And if I never am?"

In the rare parts of his life where he allowed to imagine himself getting into a relationship, Mycroft had never expected himself to be overwhelmed with so much emotion so quickly, but with you it was almost as though he had no control; as though there had been so many pent up feelings over the years that they just seem to have exploded without any rational thought behind it. And whilst these were all new to Mycroft, and how he still wasn't entirely sure about everything that he felt when it came to things with you, the only thing he was positive about was that he didn't want it to go. And that meant not wanting you to leave. Which was ridiculous. You had just under two weeks left together until you would be needed back at work, and he would have to return to fighting on Britain's behalf, but the thought of you not being at home to greet him when he finished, or him not being able to pick you up in one of his cars from the Yard to take you both home made him feel a sense of disappointment. He shook himself from his thoughts when you emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.

"On second thoughts, I may take the risk. I'm not sure I can have members of the general public associating me with a Sex Pistols fan, no matter how humerous you may believe that top to be." You walked out proudly wearing your 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt with a grin. "You are aware tha-"

"That when the Sex Pistols released their song 'God Save the Queen' in 1977 it was around the same time of The Queen's silver jubilee and thus it was banned for a while on the premise of being 'bad gross taste'? You've only mentioned it every time I wear this shirt.. Though if your research extended enough then you'd know Paul Cook said it wasn't written specifically FOR the jubilee.. So if one of Lizzie's spies catch me in the act, I shall make a very sincere apology." Mycroft took his own clothes into the bathroom to get ready himself and scoffed.

"But I AM one of 'Lizzie's Spies'." He mused, leaning slightly against the doorframe after settling the outfit on the counter. You turned around on your heel and stood up on your tiptoes, pushed him more forcefully against the doorframe and placed your hands on Mycroft's cheeks, pressing your lips softly against his. His shock subsided before he kissed you tentatively, his hand resting on your lower back. You pulled away after a moment and ushered him into the bathroom to get ready, closing the door behind you and leaving him still slightly red faced and confused.

"Consider that my sincere apology." You headed over to the dresser and began to tie up your hair. "But hurry up, I'm starving." You called, moving the hairbrush too low and brushing against your bruise, making you wince loudly. From the bathroom, you heard Mycroft's voice before the sound of him brushing his teeth.

"Head?"

"Well I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast, but who knows what the day will bring." You heard the sound of Mycroft choking on his toothpaste and wished to whatever deity out there that you could have seen his face. Yes, you had promised to try and be less overbearing with your comments but he walked into that one. You grinned and sat down on the side of the bed, briefly scanning through your phone before Mycroft emerged, his face still burnt a red as deep as the burgundy sweatshirt he had paired with his outfit. The fact he had come out at all at least let you know that your joke hadn't taken it too far.

"You're a minx."

"And you wouldn't change it. Now let's go!"

---

Only 20 minutes later had you both be found sitting comfortably in Ms Woodall's cafe, tucking into your respective meals- with you noticing, but not commenting on, Mycroft eating comfortably until the last bite of toast was gone, a sense of pride warming within you. Not too long after, Bernice herself headed over to clear up your tables.

"I trust everything was up to standard?" She asked, piling your plates onto her little trolley and offering top ups on your drinks.

"Splendid as usual, Ms Woodall." Mycroft smiled, accepting his new cup of tea and cradling it comfortably between his long fingers.

"Still proving to be our favourite place for breakfast." You praised, your hand reaching out to fondly brush against Mycroft's before taking your coffee into hand. Bernice watched your movements and raised her brow knowingly.

"Took the pair of you long enough. I had been half tempted to abstain from feeding you here until I got one of you to say something, it had started making me feel a bit sick watching you eye each other up each time you'd get up to order something." You rested your elbow on the table, hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh.

"Yes, well, I can't promise you the ogling will stop on my behalf." You teased.

"And why should it? Mr Holmes in those posh little outfits is enough to make anyone swoon." And with that she had headed back out into the kitchen again.

"There you go, Myc. Should anything happen to me, my replacement is only round the corner."

"Mmm, and she does make a rather good cup of tea. Perhaps I shouldn't wait that long." His lip raised slightly in a smirk as he took a sip of his hot beverage.

"Oh really? Need I start getting possessive; stand my ground?" Before Mycroft could quip back, Ms Woodall had returned with a plate of biscuits in hand.

"Means you've already answered my next question, anywho." She hummed, placing the plate down between you and perching on the corner of the table beside yours. The pair of you gave her a questioning look and she continued, pointing up to her own forehead. "Tony and I were just as bad at the start of our marriage. Anywhere and everywhere we could get our hands on each other, I ended up with bumps and scrapes from alleys, the backs of cars, even in that one restaurant toilet that time.." You choked on your coffee and Mycroft all but dropped his teacup. "Oh don't act so ignorant, even us oldies had sex in their time." Your eyes caught Mycroft's and you could see him stifling down a laugh, biting softly on his knuckle- which, in itself, shouldn't have been as attractive to you as it was, but it is what it is.

"And with that thought, we best be off. Got a movie date planned." You commented, coughing down your own laugh as Bernice continued.

"Though to be fair it never stopped, all that spontaneity. Even towards the end, he could be like a lad of nineteen with how it was. God the positions, you'd have mistaken me for a gymnast and he could last for ages. I'd just lie there wondering 'will this pleasure never end'?" You could feel tears prick at your eyes as your laughter began to break through. "And then of course once Tony passed a couple years ago it all stopped. Shame really, all those years together, ending how it did.. Though sometimes I'm not sure if it's him that I miss or his massiv-"

"Ms Woodall we really should be going, thank you for breakfast." Mycroft hastily threw a few £20 notes on the table, far too much to cover your meal but enough to distract Bernice while tugging your hand and beelining for the door. Once safely distanced from the apparent nymphomaniac cafe owner you had to stop in your tracks to let out a laugh, Mycroft's hand still in yours as you doubled over.

"I can't believe she said that! She's so open."

"Evidently." Mycroft's comment set you off again, his laughter following, ignoring how you caught the attention of a few people passing by. "I do hope you are in no rush for breakfast there again any time soon, I don't think I can look her in the eye for a good while."

"Still so sure on replacing me with her so soon? I think she'd break you."

"Or turn me into a whore." You snorted and settled back to walking.

---

"Drink?"

"Please. Tea, hold the sexual history."

"I'll try my very best, though, much like my tea, I imagine my list would be abysmal in comparison to old Ms Woodall." You flicked on the kettle, eager to replace the half drunk coffee you had discarded on the cafe table in your escape from listening about pensioner sex. "Will you load up the movie?"

"No. But I shall get the film ready to go.. How the American dialect found its way back to England will never fail to disappoint me." You had followed him into the room shortly after, mugs on the table and settled on the sofa beside Mycroft.

"You know, typically, when people elect for a movie day, they don't choose the tenth movie in the series to watch first." You grinned, tucking your legs beneath your body in an attempt to get comfortable. You continued your shuffling movements and heard Mycroft's voice.

"I believe we both agree that Carry On Cleo is the superior of the 31 movies for, well, a multitude of reasons." He trailed.

"I shan't object. It's sweet that you remember it's the first one we watched together.. Had it not been for you hearing Kenneth's famous 'Infamy, infamy' line persuading you to come over, I fear that I'd have been set up with one of Greg's mates by now, sitting in a pub nursing a G+T."

"I never said I remembered that."

"You didn't have to. You and I both know that your favourite was always Carry on Camping."

"Yes, well.. Opinions change with experience."

"Is this our equivalent of a patronus? Yours has changed and matched with mine? Very cute, Myc. Might I expect you in a 'Never Mind the Bollocks' shirt next week?" You teased, electing to lay down with your head lightly using Mycroft's thigh as a pillow, feeling grateful when he didn't shove you off with a comment about ruining the linen of his trousers, and instead took to softly brushing his fingers over your head, narrowly missing the purple bump each time.

"You'd have better chances of catching me running naked down the street."

"Is that a promise?" A flick to your forehead.

"Just play the bloody film."

---

By the time the film had finished, your cheeks had hurt from smiling and your eyelids had felt heavy. Whilst getting up at a reasonable hour had felt like an achievement this morning, the lack of sleep from the previous night was beginning to catch up to you.

"Myc? Would it be entirely improper to nap on the sofa when there are multiple reasonable beds upstairs before continuing our films?"

"Only about as improper as it is to have a midday nap when you're not a young child." You shifted your head from his lap and sat up, ignoring the fact that you actually did end up ruining the linen of his trousers with the crease of your skull.

"Let me rephrase. Mycroft, would you be willing to break your proper posh boy streak and nap with me on the sofa?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to deviate from one's usual behaviours in order to satisfy those one holds dear."

"That's a yes, right? Good, lay down, else I may just collapse right at this moment." Mycroft's sofa certainly was a significantly bit bigger than those usually found in somebody's front room, but it was still nowhere near wide enough for two people to lay with distance. Even still, he followed your request and rotated his body, lifting his long legs to rest down the side of the sofa while you slid into the gap beside him. He eventually circled his arm beneath you and rested his hand on your hip, your face softly brushing against the comforting material of his jumper. "If you drop me, I will be holding you accountable." You mumbled, shifting your body closer to his. He merely hummed, his hand slightly bunching in your shirt and his arm tightening. "I'd always hoped you were secretly a cuddler."

"Make a point of it or tell Sherlock and I'll throw you off." You couldn't even think of a witty comeback before your slumber had taken over, the smell of Mycroft and the sounds of him breathing overstimulating your senses. Mycroft being a secret cuddler hadn't been as much of a shock to you as it probably should have, but you welcome it completely and feel incredibly thankful that he trusts you enough to let you be that close to him, to feel his body in such a way. And you would embrace that- and him- as long as he would let you.

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧| 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

Alright, just want to put out there that I do NOT SUPPORT cheating. I'm going to write one where I might just lash out at OMI. Hmm, I don't like cheating for personal reasons, but I just don't think it's right.

So, for my previous post, I want to clarify that he did not full-on kiss the close friend but maybe like a lip to lip touch only; that was what I was going for initially.

Now, I want to write something that really hurts because I'm just reminded of something.

But, this post might be triggering and sad.

Warning (s): mentions of cheating, strong language, hospitals and breakups.

a/n: omg i didn't know i was going to write this long. just's a heads up, i used the she/her pronouns!

Enjoy...

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You felt like your relationship with Sakusa was slowly breaking down.

It was becoming toxic for you and him; it was not working out like last time.

When you guys fought in the past, you two would make up the next day, but these days, he stays out and comes back once every few days.

You tried calling him and even staying up to wait for him, but he never came home.

All the stress from your work and your relationship problems were becoming troubling for your body.

Still, you want to make this relationship work. You have been together with Sakusa for five years, almost half of your youth.

You two have been with each other through ups and downs; you guys can work this out.

Or so you thought.

It has been weeks that you tried to meet him and call him to have dinner together so that you two can have a proper conversation and makeup.

He never replies to your texts or calls.

When you are out at work, he only returned to the apartment to collect a change of clothes and belongings.

You noticed that his stuff was slowly getting removed, and you dread the worst.

Hell, you really wanted to confront him and ask him for the truth.

How did you two end up in this state?

You confide in your best friend that you consider as your sister from another womb. Since you only have brothers.

Your boss was being extra generous and gave you half a day off, considering that you have been overworking and decided to make his favourite dinner.

You bought tons of food so that you two can bond again and work the problems out.

It was a good day, and you were feeling hopeful.

Oh, hell no.

You felt your stomach dropped as you noticed the familiar pair of heels and that customised sneakers.

You heard giggles and moans.

There he was, half-naked and full-on making out with your best friend that you consider as your sister.

She hurriedly stops Sakusa when she noticed you.

Your knuckles were turning white from your grip.

"So this was why you have been avoiding me? I see two of my best friends hooking up. Ah, you must be glad that I was a fool so that you two can fool behind my back, huh?" You let out a bitter laugh and took a deep breath.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked the two of them.

"Six months."

They have been seeing each other for six months, and you spend all your tears on these two people you trust the most. They were your world.

"Was it fun? Hmm, Hanari? Tell me? How was it fucking your best friend's boyfriend knowing all of our relationship problems? Six months...I can't believe it. I must look like a fool where I pour my heart and tears to you about my relationship, and you two were fucking behind my back." Your eyes have gone completely dull, and the tears were threatening to spill.

"Kiyoomi, I was the one trying to work things out and trying to make this relationship work. What about you? I know that you are tired from your practice, and you could not even bother trying in this relationship?

How about me, huh? I am exhausted from taking care of patients and trying to please you. Was this relationship all about you?

Hanari, I know you like him since high school but just didn't have the balls to confess before I did. I felt bad, but now, I don't. But, as my best friend, how could you?

I am over this. Enjoy my sloppy seconds, Hanari. I hope you two are happy. Thank you, you assholes."

You flipped them off and turn your back on them. Before you even reach the door, you felt a sharp pain on your right cheek and taste blood in your mouth.

"Well, I guess you can't even handle words that you need to resort to physical violence." You threw her a nasty glare and walks out of that apartment and both of their lives.

Once you reach your car, you collapse on the car seat in excruciating pain.

It started when you confront them, and you felt the sharp pain in the lower right side of your abdomen. You could not raise your voice at them as it worsens the pain.

Your hand trembles as you reach for your phone to call someone to come and get you as you can't drive due to the pain.

"Oh, why are ya callin' me? Did ya miss me?"

"Tsumu, can you come to the parking lot in my apartment building? It's urgent." You requested, trying to pace your breathing.

"What's wrong? Are ya okay? Hey, I'm comin', hang in there."

You ended the call and laid back on the seat. It hurts so much that you feel like fainting.

Though it was only a ten-minute wait, it felt like ages for you.

"Oh lord, I'm glad I pull Samu along. Can ya walk?" He asked you, and you shook your head. He tries his best to make a minimal movement, but he sees you grimace at every small movement he makes.

Osamu got behind the wheel, and Atsumu cradle you close to his chest.

You whimpered in pain and clutch on to his sweatshirt tightly.

"Where's Omi? Didn't he went home earlier to get ya?" You shook your head, tears slowly trickling down your cheeks.

He knew something was wrong but decided to not probe you anymore.

You were immediately wheeled in, and Atsumu were left to handle your paperwork. Osamu sighed and started contacting his girlfriend that he might not return back today.

Hearing that you were hospitalised, she told Osamu that she would be driving up there.

Atsumu tries not to show his nervousness, but as his twin, Osamu clearly knows that he is distraught for you. Your boyfriend was supposed to be here, taking Atsumu place, but instead, he was nowhere to be found.

You were in so much pain that you could not even drive and had to ask Atsumu, who is an amateur driver.

"Doctor y/l/n requires immediate operation since she has a ruptured appendix. May I know who is her next of kin?" The assistant doctor asked and Atsumu followed after him to wrap up the paperwork for you.

Atsumu watches you slowly breathe in and out in a constant manner and gently brushes your hair away from your pale face.

He called and informed Sakusa about your hospitalisation, but his teammate just told him that he was just exaggerating and you were just down with the flu.

You were still in a deep sleep from the anaesthesia.

"Hey, how is she?" Mira, Osamu's girlfriend, asked Atsumu.

"She just came out from surgery about three hours ago. So, she's still asleep. Her brothers are coming tomorrow." Mira lets out a sigh and gently holds your hand.

She heard about Sakusa from Osamu and almost wanted to storm to his apartment and drag his ass here.

"I think the two of them broke up. She called me and asked me to pick her up, and she was hunched over in pain. Sakusa left practice early saying that he was going to pick her up, but it was a lie."

Mira lightly pats your hand and heads out of the private ward.

After Mira left, you squinted your eyes and grimaced at the faint pain on your right side.

"Oh, thank the lord you're awake! Do you know how worried I was? What happened between you and Omi?"

"We broke up. He cheated. I'll be fine." Even though you say that you would be fine, you can't help but feel the hot tears spill.

Atsumu pulls you to his chest and pats your back gently.

"Hey, I'll be here for ya. Don't ya worry, 'kay? Don't waste yer precious tears on someone who doesn't deserve it. Take care of yourself, 'kay?" He gently wipes the tears away from your cheeks and places a light kiss on your forehead and heads out of your ward for you to rest.

It's all going to be okay, you still have other people that care for you.

He never came to the hospital to check on you after you collapse in the parking lot. In fact, he released an announcement about the breakup.

Your brothers held back a lot when they went to pick up your belongings.

Atsumu offered for you to temporarily to stay at his place until you find a place for yourself.

You knew that Atsumu has been by your side this whole time and his feelings for you, but you just need to confirm it.

"Hey, ready to go?" He arrived just in time.

"Tsumu, I want to ask you something and you have to be honest with me." You pats the empty space beside you. He sat down beside you and you took his hand and held in your small hands.

"Do you have feelings for me?"

He froze and blinked at you.

"I know. Since a long time ago." His face fell and he braced for the rejection that was going to happen soon.

"Loosen up. I'm not ready for a relationship yet but if you can wait, I'm taking that confession."

Atsumu's expression lights up and he threw his arms around you, careful to avoid your stitches area.

"I'll wait! No matter how long it is, I'll wait for you!"

Alright, I hope this does not change your mind about Omi. ITS ALL AN IMAGINATION. I love Omi with all my heart but I had to break to y'all the harsh reality. Being cheated is never pretty and with the right support system, everything will all work out fine.

This has been the alternative ending that I would have written for my previous post.

Thank you for reading.

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

[naniwa-archive]

ViVi November Issue (Snow Man cover)

Solo Q/A interview

Nishihata Daigo

Q. What do you think about sharing clothes with your significant other?

A. Wonderful, absolutely amazing! Since I am not as tall that's why it might be a bit difficult but, I want her to nervously say “this is too big”. I guess it's a nice feeling for your significant other to wearing your own clothes? Well, I am not sure since I don't have any experience in dating (laughs)

Q. Have you actually shared clothes with someone?

A. Only with my father. With members, rather than sharing, we have matching outfits more. Just the other day I copied and wore the same t-shirt as that of Michieda-kun, I also have matching rings, t-shirt and bags with Ohashi-kun. Good things are good afterall.

Q. At what situation with what kind of girl would you like to share clothes?

A. The first thing that came in my mind is, at home date. I want to do classic things, something like, my girlfriend saying “this is a bit big~” while wearing my sweatshirt (shy). If a girl who is usually calm and caring let's herself be spoiled only by me it'll definitely make my heart race. Also since I am from Kansai, I want to joke around with my lover. Is the hurdle too high? Its totally fine even if she can't make a come back (to my jokes). As long she laughs at my jokes!

Q. Can you straightforwardly tell “cute” to your lover?

A. Of course! I can even say things that'd make one feel shy with no problem. That's why on the contrary, if it's someone who isn't good with this kind of thing, it might be a problem. Is this what they call occupational disease?

Onishi Ryusei

Q. What do you think about sharing clothes with your significant other?

A. I completely love the idea. Getting caught by “Isn't it your boyfriend's?”. It looks cute when the girl takes the clothes to wear. I adore conversations that goes “Ah, please lend me that clothes” “Sure~”.

Q. What is good about girls wearing men's clothes?

A. The little loose creates a relaxed vibe. You get to be fashionable even without being too fancy.

Q. Where would you go for date with your girlfriend who is wearing your clothes?

A. Park! I want to go to a park. I have an image that we will be in a relax mode as that of living at home, while eating home made bento we will have a laid-back conversation. We will also bring our dog. Uwaa~ That'd be so nice~.

Q. Would you borrow your girlfriend's clothes?

A. If I were to go out wearing girlfriend's clothes, in case I feel her smell on them, I might get excited (laughs)

Q. Do you have a type you are interested in?

A. Someone who likes to exchange meaningless texts, I guess? If I receive texts with dumb contents at random hours, I might think it as cute.

Q. With which Naniwa member would you like to share clothes with?

A. Ohashi-kun. Because his clothes usually have a calming smell to them (laughs). Also he is quite particular about shoulder width or size in general. He is a fashionable person who has a lot of oversized clothes. I want to wear Ohashi-kun's clothes ♡

Nagao Kento

Q. What do you think about sharing clothes with your significant other?

A. If my girlfriend says “I wanna wear it” then it's completely fine but, I won't recommend her anything by myself. Ah, but if my girlfriend is complimented when wearing my clothes then I'll go “You're welcome”. Since I prefer ladies pants more than the normal ones, if I try then I might also be able to borrow my girlfriend's clothes. As I am a man who has plaid skirt, heel boots and such, I absolutely have nothing that I don't like!

Q. The fashionable Nagao-san, are girls who are into fashion your type?

A. No No, there's nothing like that. If we have common interests and hobbies the conversation might extend, but it's okay even if it doesn't match my taste. Rather, I might apologize for being obsessed with my own fashion while not paying any attention to the other person's clothes  (laughs). At the end, it's all about self satisfaction. As for the significant other, I would like her to cherish her own colors.

Q. Do you talk about clothes with the members?

A. Not really. I talk with my clothes loving friends from my hometown. I also often talk with salespersons of clothing shops with whom I'm close with about release information of new clothes, new brands and such. On top of that, I am the type who doesn't want to match outfits with the members. Yet it troubles me as I would often match with them! If my favourite pair of sneakers matched with anyone then my excitement would go down like “Ah..”. I don't mean this in a negative way. I mean, when you go and hang out with the members if you see someone wearing the same outfit as you, won't it ruin your mood? No matter how close you are! kinda (laughs)

Michieda Shunsuke

Q. What do you think about sharing clothes with your significant other?

A. I think it's really good! The little oversized-ness is cute, also whenever my girlfriend would try to borrow my clothes in my absence I want to tell her things like “What are you doing, geez~”. I want to fool around while feeling all fluffy inside (laughs). Imagining it alone is fun!

Q. Have you actually shared clothes with someone of the opposite sex?

A. As a child I once wore my sister's clothes without her permission, that time she was quite mad at me, so now we no longer share. On the other hand, now when my sister wears my clothes I really can't think of that as cute (laughs).

Q. If you get a girlfriend would you prefer thing to her way or your way?

A. Since I will not hold my partner, if she prefers to wear the things she likes the. I guess I'm fine with it. But if she's not really careful about wearing clothes that are quite revealing then my eyes might have trouble figuring out where to look at! If I receive requests from my significant other like “I want you to wear this kind of clothes” then I'll try my best to respond to her request.

Q. Finally, what is your type?

A. If we are talking about appearance, a girl with natural makeup and bob to semi long hair. As for what's inside (personality), someone who is able to attract elegant people with her soft atmosphere. Also, If I make any mistakes or there is anything wromg in that case I want her to tell that clearly to me. On the other hand, I dislike girls who likes to control. It's fine to act all cutesy to be perceived as cute but as we can't see her true intentions so that's still a bit... Though personally I can't usually recognise such actions at all. Amongst the members, not only is my score low in terms of love, I think I'm quite simple as a person (laughs)

Nishihata and Nagao: Micchi sure is naive!

Takahashi Kyohei

Q. What do you think about girls who wears men's or unisex clothings?

A. It's my first time hearing that girls wear men's clothes! There has been times when I wore slender ladies pants but, there's an opposite pattern as well... Eh, you don't mean room wear, right? Well~ that's something unknown to me (laughs)

Q. What if your girlfriend asks you to lend your clothes?

A. I am sorry but, I wouldn't prefer it. I would constantly think if my clothes have weird smell to it. I'm totally fine with matching though.

Q. What kind of fashion do you like on girls?

A. Something that's pretty in general. Style like, tucked in t-shirt with flare pants, I like outfits that have a refreshing silhouette to them (laughs). Especially flare denims are the best. Previously I used to like skinny pants but, I graduated from them when I became an adult.

Q. What is your ideal personality type?

A. Someone who's funny. Not funny like actual comedians, for example, someone who is really pretty but has a weird laugh, has a strong tone when speaking, if someone who has a gap that you wouldn't think of would really make me interested in them.

Q. What if your significant other requests “I want you to wear this”?

A. If my significant other dresses as per my ideal form then I would do the same. Anything is fine but I don't like showing navel! Even then if there's a request to show muscles, I will say “sure, at the beach” (laughs).

Fujiwara Joichiro

Q. What if your girlfriend asks you to lend your clothes?

A. I'd totally lend them to her. It'll have this “In return lend me something too” kind of feeling (laughs). Doing things like, lining up all the clothes on bed, like how they do in drama and saying things like, “What should I wear today?” “How is this one?” “Ah that's no good” kinda. Isn't that super good? (laughs)

Q. What do you think about girls who wears men's outfits?

A. Normally, when a girl who usually wears ladies outfit wears men's clothes then the form and atmosphere in general will change, right? That change compared to usual will make men's heart flutter. It's the contrast after all, you know? (laughs)

Q. Where would you go for date with your girlfriend who is wearing your clothes?

A. It's a place that is particularly really admired by the people of Kansai but I want to go to a cafe in Yokohama (laughs). We will take pictures there which are different from our usual ones. Later when we will look at the pictures, I want to talk about memories like, “We did it that time. That was the first time when we exchanged clothes!” (shy)

Q. Do you have any ideal type for girls' fashion or make up?

A. Instead of black hair, I prefer girls with dyed hair. Your eyes will follow the girl who has an  intriguing hair color, like “What's up with that color!?” kinda.

Q. What is your ideal personality type?

A. The type who prepares food first, suddenly buys present saying “This looked nice” even though it isn't their partner's birthday. Someone who expresses their kindness casually through surprises, someone like that is nice.

Ohashi Kazuya

Q. If you get a special person, would you share your clothes with them?

A. I really want to do that!  I want to share my closet completely like, “It's fine to wear any of my clothes”. If we are at home, then I'd have her wear my hoodie like an one piece, something like, it's an appearance that only I know about ♡ When going outside though, as I'm worried/concerned, I'd have her wear pants (laughs).

Q. What kind of fashion do you like on girls?

A. Street fashion. Something like a big top with loose wide pants, and a knit cap to along with it! If I spot a girl like that in the middle of the road, then I will follow her with my eyes.

Q. What is your ideal personality type?

A. Someone being with whom would calm me down I guess. If I were to refer to a member then.. Nope, there's no one (laughs). I like slightly modest type of girl who is generally seen wearing glasses while studying in the classroom. Along with that if she's actually really strong in fighting then I might give into her gap.

Q. Have you actually shared clothes with a girl?

A. I have! It's with my almost 50 years old mom though (laughs)

Q. Is it true that you have a lot of clothing items that match with the members?

A. There's a lot. The most is probably with Daigo. Micchi often imitates my hats, with Jo-kun it's the pants, with Kyohei we match rings and down pieces, like t-shirt and such.

Kyohei: It's because Ohashi-kun would invite me to shopping saying “Let's match”

No, it's you who invites me! I am sorry, this kid here is a tsundere (laughs).

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

shatter us || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello gorgeous people. this is not the cutesy road trip fic that I have planned - the follow up for a luminous love. but instead just a little sprinkle, little dash of some angst for your casual sunday. yikes, I hope you all still enjoy (still ends fluffy bc I'm not a heathen...yet) 

since I love hearing your thoughts so much, is there anything you’d personally like to see from me, alongside what i’m working on? hit me up and I might just work on some fic for you, got a full week off work so let me know! as always, stay wonderful and come chat! x 

word count: 2166 warnings: we do have a swear and some smashed glass, some sad thoughts but nothing too dark or dangerous - very tame summary: emotional outbursts lead to some much needed conversations

6:10.

There was a lack of chirping birds that morning. The sun stayed behind the clouds, keeping itself out of view. The air cold and stale. Sheets were pulled taught at either end of the bed. Two bodies, usually yearning to be held in each other’s embrace clutching instead to their designated edges.

You were fearful to exhale your breath, one small movement and this frozen moment could all come crashing down around you. As though you were stood at the very edge of a precipice, toes hanging over the side. One tiny blow away from tumbling into a dark abyss.

Before you thought your chest was going to explode from the inside, you felt the springs next to you dip only slightly. The signs of someone moving.

He hadn’t moved all night. You wondered if he’d managed to catch any sleep at all before you felt the bed dip further as he untangled his legs from the sheets, heading into the en suite bathroom.

You reached a hand out from your cocoon, your phone lighting up as you tilted it towards you.

10 missed calls.

15 texts

You’d told your best friend that you’d screwed everything up, unwilling to reveal what happened before you let your tears lull to into a restless sleep.

You weren’t sure at what time Tom joined you. Sighing, you heard the click of your phone locking as you lay it back down.

Tom comes back out of the bathroom, slowing slightly as he sees you curled up in the corner of the bed instead of star-fished or snuggling into his pillow as you usually did when he left the room – resulting in playfighting or cuddles.

“I think we need to talk.”

His voice was rough and scratchy. You slid yourself up against the headboard, pulling your jumper sleeves over your hands and nodding in agreement. You couldn’t speak yet, you weren’t sure you knew how. Words refusing to form as your stomach churned.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs then.” He grabs a hoodie of his own before leaving the room, you could hear him moving through the flat.

You take a few deep breaths, taking note of the room around you. glancing over the space you had shared for the past year and a half. Something told you this could be the last morning you’d wake up here.

Exhaling, you slide your feet onto the golden wood crossing the room to reach the bathroom. You splash water over your face, fluffy towel ready to catch the droplets before finishing up.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself as you push against the sink counter and head for the kitchen.

////

Tom fills up the kettle, unfocussed eyes staring into the distance. He put it back on its stand before flicking down the switch.

A hand ran through his messy bed head of curls. This was all so wrong, all of it. He told you that he wanted to talk but as he routinely made two teas, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to say. But he began filming in four days and you both had to fix this tension between you. For the first time, you were both unsure of what the outcome would be. 

Taking a small brush and pan over to the wall he brushes up the broken glass, hearing it tinkle as he gathers it into the pan, releasing it into the bin, frustrated at his own outburst the previous night.

He’s against the counter stirring the two mugs when you walk in. He motions to the sofa.

He takes you in as you stand in front of him, shyer and more nervous that he’d ever seen you. He hated that you felt like that. Drowning in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, your face was tinged pink and he hoped that you hadn’t been crying in the short time it took to make your teas.

You gave a small smile of thanks at the steaming mug he slid across to you before heading to the sofa. You rolled your shoulders, caressing the mug between your hands - letting the heat warm them.

“I’m so sorry-“

“I’m so sorry-“

You both blurt out simultaneously. His eyes twinkle slightly, as he huffed out a slight chuckle.

“Well that’s a good start at least.”

You nod, stifling a nervous laugh, mouth upturned. He offers you to go first. You take a sip of your tea, letting it soothe your nauseous stomach.

Swallowing, you trace your finger around the rim of your mug. Closing your eyes for a single moment before staring into his, so wide and filled with hurt.

Last night played on repeat in your head.

“Stop saying you love me as a response for when things get too hard - it’s just words Tom! Just because you love me doesn’t mean that I feel loved by you!”

Tom’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he stood transfixed on you. You stared at him in shock, completely taken aback by your own outburst. The room was blanketed in an unforgiving silence, your voice wobbling at the building honesty that had come tumbling out.

“Wow. I offered to fly you out to be with me before filming officially started for fucks sake! You declined! Was that not enough for you?! Does that not show you I love you? My career is important and I’m sorry that annoys you!”

“That is not what I meant Tom, and you know it.”

His brows furrow, eyes darkening with anger. You wanted to straighten them out with your fingers, lightly gliding over the uncontrollable hairs and press a feathery light kiss in the space between them. Something you usually did when he was tense or frustrated.

“Please, enlighten me then.”

“Fly across the other side of the world to do what?! Sit in silence in a room with you as you read over scripts with Harry. Sit alone in a room whilst you meet the cast and team, stay away so you can go for your lush dinners and lunches. And then fly out when things get underway, that’s unless I want to sit in your trailer day in and day out. I love you Tom and I support you and I think you’re brilliant - I always will think that. But being your hidden girlfriend is exhausting and lonely, and I don’t know if I can do it!”

You’ve never been this vulnerable with Tom before. You’d never let on before how hard it could be sometimes being his girlfriend, how utterly alone you felt. How much of a stranger you felt in regards to Tom and parts of his life.

“Then don’t! If you hate it so much, then don’t be my girlfriend then. Problem solved!”

You gasp slightly, standing completely rigid. Heart pounding in your ears, heat rising through your entire body. You can feel the moisture building behind your eyes, trying so hard to keep it at bay.

“Fine. Wow. Easy fix for the golden boy, got it.”

And with that you turn on your heel and head straight into the bedroom. Door slamming behind you.

Tom throws his beer bottle at the opposite wall. Hands going straight up to his face as he let out a cry of frustration. Glass shards littering the floor.

“Fuck!”

////

“I’m so sorry for saying what I said. It didn’t come out right and I don’t know, I think I was just being dramatic and anno-“

Tom cuts you off with a shake of his head, resting one hand on your leg.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. My response was completely irrational, but you...you were honest and hurt and valid. Do not deny your emotions to make me feel better, that’s not going to fix this. You know I love you, you said it yourself, but you don’t feel loved - and that’s on me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, looking down into your swirling cup. Your heart was beating so fast, it was making you feel almost dizzy. 

“I feel pathetic, please let’s just forget it happened Tom.”

Tom takes the cup out of your hand, planting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulls your legs that little bit closer, your body moving forward, closing the gap between you both.

“I can’t forget it. I’ve been playing it on repeat all night. Please just be honest with me. I want to listen. I want to understand.”

You exhale a shaky sigh,

“Sometimes it’s just so much harder than I ever thought it would be, Tom. I love how much you adore your job, you inspire me every single day as I watch you inspire millions of people. but sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on your life. Instead of feeling like someone you want to share your life with, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate that.”

He nods, his forehead creasing slightly as he takes in your words, and presses for you to continue,

“And take away all that comes with your job. On the rare days when it’s just me and you, you make me feel so alive. I feel needed and wanted and loved. So loved. But it’s not enough for me to have a few gulps of that feeling. God, it sounds so selfish. I hear it from my own mouth and I sound ridiculous.”

You take a pause. wishing for your voice to straighten out. For that wobble to stop as you can see the concern on Tom’s face rising,

“Maybe there’s been a reason we’ve kept it a secret for so long, because you and I both know that the minute this gets out...everything is going to crumble beneath us, and I’m the one not going to be able to handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

When you didn’t start up again, Tom gave a deep sigh, before pressing ahead,

“I’ve been doing this all wrong. I thought keeping you out of things would protect you, we agreed on that being the best option. And in the beginning it was. The sneaking around, the constant phone calls, video calls, surprise visits - we did it all.”

You nod in agreement. Your heart sinking. Even though you’d brought it on yourself, letting your insecurities and loneliness take over - you still weren’t ready for the inevitable goodbye that was coming your way.

“But we’ve grown individually, and our relationship has grown. And yeah, there’s a part of me who still wants to keep you all to myself, I know what press and fans can be like. But you’re right.”

You look up at him through wet eyelashes. He catches a tear with his thumb, wiping it away from your cheek,

“I’m not losing you to my own fear. And you’re not losing me to yours.”

“Wait, what?” you whisper, confused.

“You need to talk to me. You need to tell me when I’m not pulling my weight in this relationship, when you’re feeling low like this. Sometimes I do get stuck in my own world a little...and you’re the one suffering for it.”

“So. You do still want me as your girlfriend?” More traitorous tears fall from your eyes, your body relaxing and therefore no longer willing to keep them at bay.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I do! There’s no still wanting about it, I’ve always wanted you. Never questioned it for a second. The real question is, do you want to make this public? I want this to be your choice. It’s going to be crazy, but I promise you, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way. I won’t make you feel like you’re on your own again, I promise. Or, if you feel like it’s too much…then we figure something else out.”

He cups the side of your face, thumb still trailing after the tear tracks.

“I’m just scared that it’ll break us, Tom. But we can’t keep going as we are.”  

He nods in understanding,

“I won’t let it break us. You have me, all of me, for however long you want.”

You pushed your forehead against his shoulder, his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as you curl into him.

He can feel your body quivering against him as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’d gone through in the past 12 hours, feelings you’d been hiding for far longer than that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I think we needed this. Now we can be better, work harder on loving each other properly. Communicate.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You whisper into his chest, “I thought I’d ruined everything.”

He squeezes his eyes clothes. pressing his lips to the top of your head, releasing soft kisses in between every couple of words,

“No, you’ve not ruined anything. All you’ve done is remind me how much I truly love you. And every day I promise I’m going to show you just how much.”

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

[angelguk]

you guys remember that video of jaykay walking around with his chain swinging from his neck... yeah anon said that video but make it jock!jk. oc is horny and who can blame her. we’re in university now folks. jk being a good friend. not edited (but tbh when is my work ever edited). 1k. listen to art class by beabadoobee.

You cannot recall a single word that has left Jeongguk’s lips in the past five minutes. You should be concentrating though — he’d been kind enough to explain thermodynamics to you. Somehow, despite your widely different majors, you’d both been thrown into the hell that was Professor Kim’s chemistry class. The only difference between the two of you right now was that Jeongguk understood what Gibson's Free Energy meant while you, unfortunately, did not.

“See,” he says, honey gaze locking on you. “It’s not that difficult.”

The huff you release is laced with fury. “Easy for you to say. You understand his horrendous teaching method.”

“Kim isn’t that horrible of a teacher,” Jeongguk returns. You don’t blink as he runs a stray hand through his chestnut curls. He’s overdue for a cut but after your persistent badgering, he’d agreed to grow it out again. The problem was that he looked good with his hair tumbling into his face. He always looked good, to be frank, but the consistent sweeping of his hair back was doing something funny to your stomach. Not that you were willing to acknowledge that.

There’s a fast and dangerous swoop in your gut the second Jeongguk leans into your space, crowding over your huddled figure. “Look,” he says, deft tongue swiping over his petal lips. His finger traces an equation from your textbook but you’re not looking at that. You really couldn’t give a shit about chemistry right now. All because Jeongguk’s chain is dangling before your eyes. It’s a pretty silver pendant, glinting in the harsh fluorescents hanging above, and engraved with something you can’t decipher as it gently sways before your vision. His cologne hits a second later, swathing around you like a warm lazy hug. You nearly give in, eyes fluttering shut as your thighs squeeze together beneath the library table. He’s so close, just one inch forward and your face would be buried in the hollow of his neck. A neck bulked up by years of consistent gym routines and playing match after match of lacrosse. You can’t help the wandering gaze. Even underneath the billowy material of his sweatshirt, you can see how broad he is, wide shoulders and thick biceps encroaching into your space.

It happens too fast for you to muffle the fantasy out. How nice he would feel on top of you, his chain cold against your warm skin as your bodies met, delicate metal swaying gently to the sound of him inside of you, his wide palms pinning you down tight until you felt the phantom of them there tomorrow, the —

“Hello? Y/N? Did you get it?” Jeongguk’s voice is alien, slicing through the core of your longing unforgivingly. 

“What?” And just like that it’s gone, evaporated into nothing as your vision clears, Jeongguk staring at you expectedly as the faint ticking of the library clock reaches your ears. “Huh? Wait — yes I got it. Um, yeah it makes sense now.”

There’s a pause as he stares at you, brown eyes brimming with that tender doe-eyed gaze of his. The one that has seen through every charade you’ve ever attempted to trick him with. He must know.

“You sure?” He says as he cocks his head. Something violently blooms and dies inside of you simultaneously. He knows. He knows and you don’t know how that makes you feel. He must have seen the distance in your eyes, saw how you looked at him. You’d never been good at hiding things, especially from Jeongguk. But your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth, brain incapable of forming a believable lie. What could you say to your best friend when you’d been fantasising about him right in front of him? What is there to say? Sorry for thinking you’re really hot? Sorry for wanting you as more than a friend? 

It’s stupid and you know it yet your mouth is falling open involuntarily. But he catches you, his words blocking yours diverting the path of your relationship from a dangerous ending. 

“I know you’re used to teaching me stuff,” he softly starts, tone cautious. “I get that. But it’s okay not to understand things, Y/N. You don’t have to know everything. I can help you out whenever you don’t, you know that right?” 

If you could scream in the middle of a library you would. But that would get you kicked out and honestly, you need to study. But here he was, thinking your hesitation and lack of focus was from embarrassment. If anyone had a golden soul it was him. And that’s what makes it a million times worse. Because Jeongguk was everything you could never be. Everything and more.

You bite your tongue, head bowed in a shame that he misreads.

“Y/N?”

It takes a minute for the thought to form, a lapse of time in which you think your heart shatters a little bit. “Jeongguk,” you murmur, eyes rising to meet his. “I’d never doubt that you wouldn’t be there to help me. We’ve been friends for too long for me to ever think that. I’m just really frustrated with myself. But I’ve got the concept now. Thank you for explaining it. I appreciate this.”

The smile he gives you could make a cloudy sky clear. “You really sure? I know it’s rushed but I gotta head to a society meeting in, like, ten minutes.”

You nod, clicking your pen because for some reason this hurts. “Yeah, yeah I got it. You should go. Thanks, Gukkie.”

He shrugs, plucking his backpack off the table. Another sweep of his fingers through his hair, a bright smile still gracing his perfect lips. There’s the hint of his dimples peeking through his cheeks. You wish he didn’t look like that. 

“Anytime, bunny. You know I got you.”

And then he’s off, waving you farewell as he weaves through the shelves and out the library doors. You don’t miss the murmurs that follow, the silent whispers of his name. Jeon Jeongguk. The university's star lacrosse player. The president of the Student Sports Committee. The hottest guy on campus. And somehow, the best-friend you might have a crush on.

It’s with a heavy sigh that you return to your assignment, the grip on your pen taunt. Maybe you should look into ordering that vibrator Sieun talked about earlier today. Maybe. 

[sukifans]

May I request a Zuko x Reader with prompt number 2 from the 50 cliché prompts? I'm desperate for some fluff

SWEATSHIRT // zuko

WC: 1.8k

PROMPT: “your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and i couldn’t help but steal it”

WARNINGS: none

A/N: if you want fluff you came to the right place—tooth rotting fluff is my specialty. the title may or may not be a jacob sartorius reference. yall remember when tik tok was music.ly?

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

Living with Sokka certainly had its ups and downs. On the one hand, he always kept things interesting—you never knew what you might come home to find, and he often made you laugh so hard you had tears streaming down your cheeks. He could also MacGyver just about anything that broke in your apartment (usually broken by him, however). You’d only had to call maintenance once, when you’d found him stuck under the kitchen sink, absolutely drenched, and shouting for help as water viciously sprayed from the pipes and the garbage disposal made some sort of ear-splitting shriek.

On the other hand, his mind moved a hundred miles a minute and he often forgot little things, like closing the kitchen cabinets or starting the dishwasher. One such thing he tended to forget was to finish his laundry. Often you’d find his still-wet clothes in the washer or his clean clothes in the dryer, having finished several hours ago. The two of you had worked out a deal: if Sokka did the dinner dishes and bought the snacks for Movie Fridays, you’d make sure the apartment ran smoothly despite his forgetfulness.

That’s how you found yourself dumping a load of his clothes onto his bed after finding them in the dryer while trying to do your own chores. You picked through the shirts and boxer briefs before settling on stealing a deep burgundy sweatshirt—an unspoken part of your deal was that if you found his clothes, you were allowed to steal a t-shirt or sweatshirt of your choosing because he knew you liked to wear the oversized tops on lazy days.

He came back later that night to find you standing in the kitchen, scrolling on your phone while you waited for your tea to steep. Your wet hair hung around your face and you wore the red hoodie with sleep shorts and thick, fuzzy socks.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his backpack on the ground by the door and kicking off his shoes.

“Hey.” You looked up at him as he bustled around the kitchen, tossing something into the microwave. “How was work?”

“Annoying,” he sighed in irritation, making you grin. He turned to you and frowned, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “Where did you find that?”

“I stole it from your laundry, stupid. You left your stuff in the dryer again. I’ve never seen this one before, did you just get it?”

“Uh... yeah. Thanks for doing that for me.”

“Mhm.” You slipped your phone into the front pocket and cradled your mug. “Why do you ask? Do you want it back?”

“Nah, it’s okay. In fact, keep it. Red doesn’t suit me, I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought it.” He had a smirk on his face that made you very suspicious.

You raised an eyebrow while you slowly sipped your tea. “If you say so, Snoozles.” You flicked his arm as you passed him to retreat into your bedroom for the night. “Don’t forget to pick up your bag. And snacks for Friday night!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded through a mouthful of noodles.

You and your friends were gathered in the living room like every other Friday, this week to watch Jurassic Park (yet another classic that neither Aang nor Zuko had seen, much to everybody’s disbelief). Katara and Aang sat together on the armchair, Zuko sat between you and Sokka on the couch, and Toph sat on the floor with her back against the sofa next to her service dog, Badger. You had your legs thrown across the guys’ laps and all eyes (except Toph’s) in the room were glued to the screen. Well, for the most part—Zuko kept looking over at you all night. You tried to keep your attention on the dinosaurs, but you could feel him staring at you. Eventually you caught his eye and raised your eyebrows expectantly. He simply flushed and looked away. You furrowed your brow and turned back to the movie, pulling your hands inside the sleeves of Sokka’s red sweatshirt and sticking them in the pocket.

“Did you guys know that Spielberg wanted the raptors to be taller for the movie and then a few months after they wrapped shooting, paleontologists found a new species of raptor that actually fit the movie portrayal really well? They almost named it after him,” Sokka said with his mouth full of popcorn.

“That’s nice, Sokka,” Katara responded absently, obviously not listening.

“Yeah, and they made the T. Rex sounds with an alligat—oof!” He wheezed when you jabbed your foot into his stomach. “Asshole!”

“Pack it up, IMDB,” you huffed.

“I just thought it was interes—ouch, Toph!” he yelped when Toph punched his shin.

“Stop talking, I can’t hear anything!”

“Just watch it!”

“I can’t!” Toph barked. Sokka crossed his arms and slumped down, grumbling to himself. You and Zuko glanced over at each other and broke out in grins, pursing your lips to hold back your laughter.

As the movie progressed, you noticed the tension in Zuko’s shoulders. He had his jaw clenched throughout the whole scene with the kids trapped in the car with the T. Rex attacking. You nudged him with your knee and he turned to look at you.

“You scared, Zu?” you teased in a low voice, leaning forward to squeeze his bicep. “You want me to protect you from the dinos?”

He rolled his eyes but still lifted his arm, inviting you sit up and tuck yourself into his side. As you leaned against him he seemed to loosen up, settling into his seat and resting his head against yours. Sokka noticed this and looked around Zuko to waggle his eyebrows suggestively and very conspicuously, making your face heat up in embarrassment. Unfortunately, the idiot had caught wind of your crush on his best friend and had been relentlessly tormenting you about it ever since. You glared at him until he sat back, looking disgustingly smug.

After the movie finished, everyone got up to stretch and refill their drinks before the next one started. While talking with Toph in the kitchen, you noticed Zuko standing outside on the balcony by himself. You excused yourself from the conversation and made your way out to him while all your friends hooted in the background. It seemed everyone knew about your attraction to the boy, except for the boy himself.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping outside. He looked around at you and gave you a small smile that made your head spin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “just getting some air. It’s getting hot in there with everyone in the room.”

You nodded and stood next to him to lean against the railing. After a few beats of silence, you could feel his stare on you again. You met his gaze curiously. “What’s up, Zu? You’ve been looking at me all night.”

“Nothing, it’s just—“ he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as if inspecting you “—is that my sweatshirt?”

You frowned. “No, I took it from Sokka.”

“Lying bastard.” His eyes widened at your offended look when you rounded on him. “Not you! I—um, it is mine. I gave it to Sokka the other day and when I asked for it he insisted he already gave it back to me. The fucker gaslit me over a sweatshirt.”

“Sounds about right,” you giggled. “I’m sorry. I’ll give it back before you leave.”

He pulled at one of the drawstrings. “You can keep it, if you want. It’s, uh—“ he cleared his throat “—it looks better on you.”

You stood facing each other now, barely a breath away from being chest-to-chest. “I can’t take your sweatshirt.”

“You take Sokka’s all the time.”

“Yeah, because he always forgets his laundry in the machine. He owes me.” Zuko laughed a little at that, still fiddling with the string. You could feel your heart racing at his proximity. He sucked in a breath and seemed to brace himself for his next words.

“I kind of like how you look in my clothes, though. Might have to start leaving my stuff around here so you stop wearing Sokka’s.” The confidence in his voice was betrayed by the rising blush on his face that surely rivaled your own as you stared up at him with wide eyes.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came out. All you could squeak out was a soft, “Zuko,” when he raised his hand to brush a loose piece of hair back behind your ear. You felt frozen, rooted to the spot, when his fingertips grazed your cheekbone. His hand lingered there, palm radiating heat into your already flushed cheeks.

“I—“ he pulled his hand back and chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly “—sorry.”

“For what?” you asked.

“I don’t know.” You grinned at each other and in that moment it could’ve been just you and Zuko left on the planet and it wouldn’t’ve mattered; everything you wanted and needed was right there in front of you, if you were bold enough to take that final step toward it.

“Zuko—“

“Hey, we—oh!“ Both of you whipped your heads around when the door slid open to reveal Aang standing there. His whole face went red and he laughed in embarrassment. “Sorry! Just wanted to tell you guys we were gonna start the movie, but no rush! Take your time!” He started to back away and you felt yourself release from Zuko’s magnetic pull now that your small bubble had been invaded.

“It’s okay, Aang.” You smiled gently at your friend and started to make your way back inside. “We were about to head in anyways.”

Aang shot Zuko an apologetic look before nodding and hurrying away. Zuko couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter about the ruined moment when you reached out towards him and gazed up at him with those warm, bright eyes. “You coming, Zu?”

“Yeah, right behind you.” He took your outstretched hand and laced your fingers together, squeezing his palm against yours.

Maybe you weren’t the last people on Earth, and maybe you hadn’t taken that leap just yet, but something between you two shifted and finally clicked into place out there on that balcony. Everything would work out just fine—he knew it in the way you kept your fingers slotted perfectly between his as Jaws played on the television, and in the way you quickly rose onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek in the hallway before he left. He couldn’t wipe the dreamy little smile off his face for the rest of the night, even as he laid awake in bed thinking about you.

Yeah; everything would be just fine.

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @simpinforsukka @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula

ZUKO TAGS: @fiantomartell @avatarayeaye @hypercakeiii @sher-lockedmarvel @emeraldpotato @september-ctd