#when they look tired and haven't slept in four days >>>>

[ichorai]

fuck the tits or ass debate, i find eyebags sooo attractive. your exhausted, sleep-deprived, mildly haunted aura has bewitched me body and soul

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Moving in with you and Everett was the most natural thing Bradley could have done. He felt loved and comfortable, and he hoped the two of you felt the same. But it took a night out drinking at the Hard Deck for you to mention some things that Bradley would have preferred you told him when you were sober.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Do you even own anything?" you asked, looking around Bradley's beige apartment. There was a stack of about ten moving boxes, two tubs of baseball cards, and some laundry baskets of clothing. "This is alarming. I'm marrying a man who doesn't own anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes at you. "I tried to tell you we didn't need Molly and Bob to come help. I could have done this with Everett." He had explained to you that his apartment came fully furnished and he had claimed that he didn't own much. But this was next level.

"Listen, Kitten," he added, wrapping his arms around you while Everett tossed Bradley's baseball caps into one of the laundry baskets. "I haven't really had a home since I was in high school. Barracks and fully furnished apartments were it." Your heart melted as he added, "Thanks for inviting me to live in your home."

"It's about to become yours, too. You can do whatever will make you happy and comfortable."

Just then Molly and Bob showed up, and Bradley's eyes lit up. "Everett!" he shouted. "We're getting a Phillies room!"

"What?" you sputtered, laughing at his excitement. "I didn't say-"

"A Phillies room!" Ev chanted, pumping his fists in the air.

"Shit," you whispered as Molly came up behind you and gave you a hug.

"This is it?" Bob asked, looking around at Bradley's stuff. "You needed my truck for five boxes?"

Bradley shrugged. "I tried to tell her not to bother calling you. Actually," he said, turning toward the refrigerator, "can you help me finish these beers?" He opened four bottles and handed two of them to Bob.

"Ladies?" Bob asked, but you both shook your heads. 

You and Molly dropped down onto the couch together while the three boys messed around in the kitchen, talking about this theoretical Phillies room. She looked a little worried, and you didn't like the way she had been chewing on her fingernails. "What's wrong?" you asked her softly. 

"Nothing," she replied immediately with a smile so fake, you were shocked she even tried it on you.

"Maybe Bob still believes that smile is genuine, but I know better. Tell me what's up."

She sighed and stretched out on your lap. "I'm so tired from work. I don't like the one douchebag doctor who works day shifts. He keeps giving me a hard time."

Your skin started to prickle. "What did he do? Did you tell Bob?"

"Yeah," she groaned, closing her eyes as you rubbed her shoulder. "I told Bob. The doctor just hates me and acts like I'm incompetent. No biggie. I know I do a good job."

It was a fight to calm your breathing down. "You actually save people's lives before the doctor even shows up in the room."

"See? You get it," she mumbled, and then she fell asleep while the guys loaded the Bronco and Bob's truck with Bradley's meager belongings. 

She slept until it was time for Bradley to lock his door one last time, and then she stood to use the bathroom. You popped up and pulled Bob into the completely empty bedroom, but before you could say anything, he was talking.

"Is Molly mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes sad and searching yours. 

"Oh, Bob," you gasped, reaching for his hand. "I don't think so. But she seems a little stressed out, doesn't she?"

He shrugged helplessly. "She keeps telling me it's because of work, but... I'm afraid she's been so quiet because she's tired of me."

You gasped. "No!" you whispered in a harsh voice. "She loves you!"

But he just looked at the floor and held tight to your hand until Bradley walked in and asked, "Ready to go?" If Bradley thought it was strange that you and Bob were holding hands and that you hugged him so tight he groaned, he didn't say anything.

"You'll tell me if she says anything to you?" Bob asked quietly as you and he followed Bradley out to the living room.

"Of course," you replied. But when Molly came out of the bathroom, she went right for Bob's arms, and they both looked immediately happier. They were fine. They had to be fine.

"Mommy? Can I ride in Bob's truck?" Everett asked, and Bradley looked scandalized.

"I thought you liked the Bronco!" he said, tossing his hands in the air in exasperation. 

"I do, Dad! But I wanted to see the truck, too!" You pressed your lips together as Bradley scooped Everett into his arms and kissed him.

"Okay, but you can't end up liking it as much as the Bronco, alright?" he asked, ushering everyone out of the apartment.

"I won't," Everett promised, and Bradley carried him down the stairs and out to the parking lot. Then he switched Everett's booster seat to the second row of Bob's pickup truck and helped him get buckled. 

When you and he were finally alone in the Bronco, you asked, "Going for dad of the year?"

He looked smug as he kissed you and said, "I'm already Coach of the year and fiancé of the year. I'm going for broke. Plus Bob drives like an elderly person. Ev will be so bored."

You laughed as he pulled out onto the main road and headed toward your house. His house too, now. "I was thinking about... changing my last name when we get married," you told him as he changed lanes.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing at you with eager eyes as he drove. "Really?"

You groaned. "I still have Danny's last name, so I think I'd like to change it to Bradshaw if that's okay with you."

He reached for your hand immediately. "Hell yes! It's more than okay with me, Kitten! I just didn't want you to think I'd be upset if you didn't."

You wanted to say something about Everett. You really wanted to tell him about Danny and the child support and the fact that the papers had been served. But you just couldn't. Not right now. Because he was parking a little crookedly in the driveway and reaching for you, and you were in his arms and his lips were on yours.

You were moaning with his hand up your shirt and underneath your bra when you heard Bob's truck.

"Told you he drives slow," Bradley grunted. "Could have fucked you real quick before they got here."

You burst into laughter as you climbed out of the Bronco and went to get Everett. When he bounded toward Bradley, you heard him whisper, "It was fun, but not as fun as the Bronco."

Bradley tousled his hair and said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Then you and Molly sat on the porch steps with some cookies while the guys did all the work. 

---------------------------

A few days later, Bradley was waiting next to Bob in their matching Navy Waves uniforms. The first game of their season was about to start, but none of their promised spectators were there yet. "Did Molly get hung up at work?" Bradley asked him, checking the time again on his phone. 

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "I don't know, Rooster." He looked miserable. "I guess. Maybe."

"Well, did you text her?"

"Yeah. She didn't respond."

Bradley paused for a moment. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know," Bob sighed, running his hand over his mouth. But then Bradley saw you and Molly running from the parking lot with Everett leading the way.

"There they are!" Bradley said, lightly hitting Bob's arm before he headed toward Everett.

"Bradley! We got stuck in traffic!" Everett said, running into his hug. Bradley, Coach, Dad... he liked it when Everett called him any of those things. 

"We were missing you," Bradley replied, kissing the top of his head as you hustled up next. 

"Good luck!" you told him, kissing him softly as you were out of breath. Then Bradley realized that all three of you were wearing matching white and navy blue shirts. He looked at the back of Molly's as she headed toward Bob, and he noticed that it said Floyd along with the number 30 on it.

When he spun Everett around in his arms, he laughed. "Bradshaw shirts? I love it!" Then you turned for him as well, and he got such a lovely view of your ass in your denim shorts along with his name on your back. He'd be taking all of that clothing off you later.

"Go," you told him, turning back around and pushing him toward the dugout. "The game is about to start!"

Bradley collected Bob from Molly and dragged him down to the field for the game against the Army Rockets. Bob seemed to have perked up a bit, and after the national anthem was played, Bradley took to the pitcher's mound. 

After he struck out the first three batters in a row, he stood there, shocked. "Hell yeah, Bradshaw!" the left fielder said, as they switched to offense. Bradley batted fifth, and the Navy Waves managed to score one run. 

And the whole time, Bradley could hear Everett shouting for him. When he looked up into the stands, you waved to him. Every single time. He could even see the light catch your ring. "Fuck," he groaned, trying to stay focused on the game. But he was so in love with you now. He loved living at your house and using all your cool body washes in the shower. He loved the way you woke him up with kisses in the morning. He loved tucking Everett in at night. He loved making pancakes in your kitchen.

You were the best kind of distraction. As the game progressed, he kept pitching pretty well. By the last inning, The Waves were up by five runs, and even though Bradley was tired, he told the coaches he'd be able to finish the game. 

When he struck out the last batter in the ninth inning, Bradley heard Everett screaming over the rest of the fans. And he made sure to collect one of the game balls to take home.

"Good game!" Bob told him, gathering up his gear as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Molly like he was afraid she was going to vanish. 

"You too. Nice double play," Bradley replied, following him up into the bleachers. 

"I've never felt more patriotic than I do right now," Molly said with a laugh. "A military themed baseball game. Americana at its finest."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bradley replied with a laugh as he handed the baseball to Everertt. 

Molly rolled her eyes so hard, Bradley feared for her vision. "Really, Bradley? You're the most patriotic thing here." Then she cleared her throat and puffed out her chest and tried to imitate Bradley in a deeper voice. "Hi, I'm Bradley Bradshaw. And I'm in the Navy. And my dad was in the Navy, too." Bradley couldn't contain his laughter, and neither could you and Bob as she continued. "And my mom was red, white and blue striped. And I'm so patriotic, I could only propose on Independence Day. And I'm going to rename my son Everett the Bald Eagle."

Bradley was doubled over in laughter. "You're obnoxious," he told Molly, but she just smirked at him.

"Where's the lie?" she asked, snuggled up against Bob as he laughed too.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to change Everett's name. At least not to that," he mumbled, following everyone as they made their way to the parking lot. When you wrapped your arm around Bradley's waist, he groaned. "I'm so sore."

"Poor thing," you crooned. "You want a backrub when we get home?"

Home. Bradley was going to drive home. Where he lived with his family.

"Are you offering?" he asked with a grin, but all he got in response was a sassy shrug. He loaded Everett and all of his gear into the Bronco and followed your car home. 

And it's not like he ever meant to take over your job of parenting your son, but Bradley absolutely loved helping with Everett's bedtime routine. So he told you to go relax while he got the bathtub ready. Bradley sat on the bathroom floor against the wall, chatting with Everett about baseball and summer camp. He let Everett ask him a million questions and promised to teach him how to keep baseball statistics.

"You should teach my mom, too," he said. "Since she's really good at math."

"We should get her a stats binder for her birthday."

"We should get her a lot more baseball stuff, because she doesn't really have any."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "We wouldn't want her to look ridiculous when we're all decked out in Phillies gear and she's not."

Everett started to drain the tub while Bradley handed him a towel. "Do you think she'll let us paint the extra bedroom red when we make it a Phillies room?"

Bradley winced. "I don't know, kiddo. Let me discuss that one with her."

Bradley followed him into his room and got out some pajamas, but once Everett was changed and tucked in bed, he gasped. "Dad! I left the baseball from your game in my booster seat!"

"I'll go get it," Bradley replied, heart swelling.

"Can you autograph it for me, too?"

A strange emotion took over Bradley's entire body, just like it always did in these moments. He felt like laughing and crying at the same time. "Sure, Ev."

By the time Bradley retrieved the baseball, signed it and came back upstairs, Everett was sound asleep. So he left the ball on the dresser and kissed his forehead.

And then he walked into your bedroom. Well, the one that he shared with you now. And you were sitting in the middle of the bed wearing one of his oversized tee shirts. You had removed your makeup, but you still looked beautiful as you reached for him.

"Pulled out a big win today, Coach. Let me rub your back."

"Somehow I keep winning," he muttered, quickly undressing and tossing his baseball uniform into the hamper. You coaxed him into bed, on his stomach, and Bradley groaned softly as you straddled his lower back and sat on his butt. "Feels good, Kitten."

Your soft laughter filled the room. "I didn't even do anything yet." But your lips met the back of his neck as your hands worked at his stiff right shoulder, and Bradley was melting into the soft bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as you worked at a knot with your elbow. 

"Does it hurt?" you whispered, taking a break and kissing that spot.

"No," he replied. "Keep going." But you kept going with your kisses instead of your massage. You gently grabbed his biceps and kissed along his spine and back up again until he was panting. "Kitten."

"Hmm?" you hummed against his shoulder blade. Then you licked his salty skin, and Bradley let you pin his wrists in place on either side of his head. You whispered something filthy in his ear. "You're getting me worked up, and you're not even the one doing the touching, Coach. I'm gonna need you to fuck me."

But when he tried to move, you were firm with your hands, so he stayed put, feeling the throb of his erection against the mattress. You licked along his neck and behind his ear, and Bradley had to keep from bucking for relief. He was gritting his teeth against the sensation of your mouth brushing the shell of his ear as you said, "Your back is sexy. How is your back sexy?"

"Baby, please let me fuck you," he begged before you climbed off of him and stayed on all fours. Bradley slipped himself inside you with one quick thrust that had you moaning, and he slipped his fingers around your necklace chain. Very gently, he pulled you closer to him, careful not to harm your little paw print charm. Your back was arched deliciously, and he pushed the tee shirt up to your neck and caressed your tits.

"Bradley," you whined, but he didn't go any faster. Just languid thrusts, his cock brushing every sensitive spot inside you. He watched your pretty pussy take him as he yanked a little more on your necklace. With one hand on your ass, he guided you through a slow buildup to an orgasm that had you moaning his name for a solid two minutes. 

"Oh hell," he growled, spilling himself inside you, eyes closed and head tipped back. He released your necklace, and let you collapse onto your belly. You squealed as he pressed himself on top of you and kissed your upper back. "You're sexy here too, Kitten."

You giggled as he ended up giving you a back massage instead. "Ugh...your hands are so big."

"I pitched a full game, and I only got a two minute massage," he complained.

"Your fault for getting a boner," you replied, clearly enjoying the way he was touching you. 

Eventually Bradley took a shower and pulled on some clean underwear. You were nearly asleep when he climbed into bed, but you said, "I've been thinking about our wedding."

"Go on," he replied, kissing your scrunched up nose. "I'd love to hear more."

You yawned and whispered, "I think you'll like my idea." And then you told Bradley what you wanted to do. And then you said you wanted to do it in the next month or two. And he had you on your back, smothering your face in kisses while you giggled. 

"Wait," he said, pausing his kisses to look at you. "Is that even possible? Can we actually do that?"

You nodded. "I think so. If you know the right people. You wanna do it?"

"Yes, Baby. One hundred percent."

--------------------------

Thunderstorms had rolled in overnight, and you woke up to find Everett in your bed with you and Bradley. It had been quite a while since a storm had sent him into your room, but this one was particularly loud. Everett was curled up in the middle of the bed with Bradley's arm wrapped around him and his head on Bradley's shoulder. They were both sound asleep.

You gasped at how sweet they looked and grabbed your phone to take a picture. And then you checked under the covers to make sure Bradley was wearing underwear. Okay, great. You'd have to remind him to keep doing that. 

As you swiped through a bunch of texts from Molly, you cringed. She had sent them at three in the morning. She wasn't getting enough sleep, trying to transition from overnights to daytime shifts. You knew she needed to take better care of herself. "Oh, Molly," you sighed, climbing out of bed, leaving the boys to sleep a little longer. 

Bob and I are going to that Navy bar tonight. You and my future turd-in-law wanna come?

You snorted as you turned on the coffee maker. Maybe Everett could hang out with Maverick tonight? You'd have to see if that would work. You also needed to make a ton of phone calls at work today. When Bradley and Everett never surfaced, you had to go back upstairs and wake them up for work and summer camp respectively. And then you had to listen to them both bug you about turning the extra bedroom into a Phillies room. 

You just shook your head until they were both starting to whine. "I don't care!" you finally said with a laugh. "Do what you want, but you need to keep the spare bed in there."

Then they rushed out to the Bronco together with just enough time for Bradley to drop Everett off and still make it to North Island on time. You were being outnumbered. You were being overruled. They were teaming up against you. But honestly, you didn't even mind. They could have a Phillies room. Because now that Bradley was living with you, your life already felt less hectic. You felt like you could breathe with the way he did things like take control of bedtime and breakfasts. 

You practically floated into work. You even waved to Frank, with your left hand so hopefully he'd see your ring. Then you got settled at your desk and made a few phone calls. And it turns out, you can have the wedding you want if you just drop the right names. And it was a good thing you saved Jake Seresin's number in your phone. 

While you were desperately trying to finish up one of your projects that was precariously close to becoming overdue, Molly started texting you again. 

ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?! Bar tonight?

"Chill," you whispered, texting Bradley instead to try to find out if Ev could play with Maverick for a little bit at his hangar. When you left work that afternoon with the reassurance that Bradley would take Everett to hang out with Mav, you went home to get ready to go to the bar. 

It was amazing how you had the time to do your makeup and hair. You even tried on several outfits before settling on your black bodysuit and some denim shorts with sandals. Bradley was definitely going to like this. You just had to make sure he enjoyed it later and not right now, because you could hear his key in the door as you ran down the stairs. 

"I told Molly we'd meet them at the bar in twenty minutes. There's a plate of leftovers in the fridge for you. And I planned our wedding."

Bradley was in his flight suit, frozen just inside the front door with his keys hanging from his hand. "You planned our wedding? And you're wearing your kitten bodysuit?" he asked with a small smile. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his cheek and unzipping his flight suit as you pulled him toward the kitchen. "We have a wedding date."

His smile grew. "You gonna tell me when that might be, Kitten?"

"September third."

"Sounds perfect. And you gonna let me play with you and your kitten costume?"

You bit your lip. "You're really just going to be okay with getting married in a few weeks?"

"Of course," he rasped, kissing your neck. "I'm ready."

"Okay, Coach. And if you're really good, I'll put on my ears and whiskers after we get home later. Now eat your dinner."

---------------------------

Bradley had seen you drink before. But he had never seen you drunk before. It was highly entertaining. You and Molly were truly a sight to behold, both wearing skin tight tops and giggling. Even Bob looked like he was enjoying himself more than he had the past couple days as Molly clung to his side and kept tucking her hand up the hem of his shirt. 

"Those sailors keep buying me drinks," you whispered so loudly, Bradley had to laugh. Sure enough, there were some guys at the bar who were buying drinks for all the women, hoping one of them would stick. "I've had like four whiskey sours," you said, holding up three fingers.

"You're so fucking good at math, Kitten," he replied, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

When you giggled next to his ear, Bradley briefly considered taking you to the bathroom for a quickie. But to his dismay, he saw that Molly and Bob seemed to be on their way back there already. 

"Well scratch that idea," Bradley murmured as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

"Rooster! Come play pool!" Nat called, and you started to push him toward the pool table. 

"Go play with your friends," you insisted. "I'm going to get another drink and then look for Molly."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that just yet," Bradley said with a grimace that he was sure just went right over your head. "And don't flirt with too many sailors, Kitten."

"I'm not, Coach," you insisted, patting his abs through his shirt. "But they are just so friendly. They won't let me pay for anything."

Bradley shook his head as you weaved your way back to the bar. He kept an eye on you as Penny served you another whiskey sour, and then he saw Molly and Bob stumbling back as he took a shot at the pool table. Bob's cheeks were flushed, and his hair and glasses were a mess. Bradley had never seen him look happier. Molly kissed Bob and then made a beeline for you, and Bob definitely wasn't the only one watching her walk away.

Bradley was laughing as Bob made his way to the pool table. "They're okay over there with those guys, right?" Bob asked, jerking his finger over his shoulder.

"You afraid Molly's going to ditch you or something?"

"I mean..." he started, adjusting his glasses and fixing his hair. "I didn't give her a ring yet. You're a step ahead of me. So honestly, I'm always a little afraid something like that's gonna happen."

"Bob. Get real, man," Bradley said, chuckling as he watched Nat obliterate him at pool. "She just rocked your world in the bathroom."

He stuttered for quite a while before he managed to say, "Yeah, but look at her. She's gorgeous."

"Give it up, Bob. You're stuck with her now."

"Hi," you said, wrapping your arms around Bradley's waist from behind. You managed to make that one word sound like it had about seven syllables while you laughed. 

"You having fun?" he asked. "Not getting into trouble?"

You were swaying on your feet and laughing. Even Molly wasn't this bad, nursing her glass of wine and whispering something to Bob that was making him blush again. 

"I'm being so good," you promised. "Jake bought me a drink."

"Of course he did," Bradley replied when Jake handed you a beer. "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you whenever I bring you here. And you might not be allowed to wear this next time." He ran his knuckles along your bodysuit that fit you like a second skin, and you sighed. "The sailors can look, and they can spend their money on you, but they can't touch my Kitten."

"That feels good," you gasped, and Bradley kissed your nose.

"You'll feel even better when I get you home later."

You handed your beer to Bradley and sunk your fingers into his hair, leaving him standing awkwardly with the bottle in one hand and his pool cue in the other. 

"I wish you were Ev's dad," you whispered against his lips. 

He set the cue against a stool and wrapped his arm around you. "Me too, Kitten." Truly, he would love that. But he didn't need it. He already had the two of you which was more than enough. More family than he ever thought he'd get. 

"You'd never force my hand like Danny is," you added softly, looking up at him with unfocused eyes and a soft smile. "Never."

He could feel the goosebumps on his arms as he asked, "What do you mean, Baby?"

"You know," you sighed, rubbing yourself against him. "I'm paying for a lawyer, and what good is it going to do? I can't get Danny's name off Everett's birth certificate. I can't get full custody and parental rights. I can't have anything except child support, which I don't even want, because he's going to be a complete jerk and contest it until I'm ready to scream. And I'll have wasted 

thousands of dollars on nothing when we could have taken a vacation or something."

Bradley was stunned. This was way more information than you'd given him about what was going on. "Kitten, if you want to go on vacation, I'll take you and Ev anywhere you want to go. Or I can pay for your lawyer."

"You sound just like Molly!" you complained, booping him on the nose and squishing his lips together. 

Bradley tried not to laugh as Molly looked up from kissing Bob. "Did you call me?" she asked, and you started laughing hysterically. 

Bradley checked the time and shook his head. As the designated driver, he should probably round the three of you up and get everyone home and pick up Everett on the way. But now you and Molly were both over by the jukebox, dancing with Bob to whatever song was playing, and Bradley just didn't have the heart to break it up yet.

But thirty minutes later, he was carrying you out to the parking lot while Bob and Molly stumbled along as well. And now he was mentally planning a family vacation. Maybe to the mountains over Everett's winter break? Disney World in the spring? He didn't know what the two of you would want to do, but he'd make it happen. Hell, he could even take you and Everett up to Los Angeles for a weekend. Whatever it ended up being, it would be perfect. 

And Bradley would let you know when you were sober that you were by no means finished with the conversation about Danny. 

--------------------------

Coach Daddy Bradley has moved in. And the boys are getting a Phillies room. And they have a wedding date! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 28

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[slutforleeminho]

Finding you again • Bangchan

(angst, comfort)

"Why?" You screamed at the top of your lungs; the neighbors were probably filling a noise complaint at this very moment. "Tell. Me. Why."

Is this what couples do? Go to sleep feeling alone and cold because there is no one beside them to keep them warm? Eat their meals in silence, on the rare occasion you even ate together? Scream at each other until there's no more breath in their lungs? Pick a fight as soon as the person they're in love with walks through the door, barely having enough time to take their shoes off? Because that's what yours and Chans relationship is like.

"I'm really not in the mood for this right now, y/n. I'm tired and I haven't eaten or slept in the past twenty-four hours. I don't even know what you want from me. I bust my ass to make sure you have a roof over your head and food to eat and you treat me like this." He looked perfectly fine to you though, refreshed even.

"I treat you like this?" Your blood was boiling. " You treat me as if I don't even exist. You stay gone all day and night and when you do come home you barely even acknowledge my presence. It's like your annoyed I'm even here half the time." Tears pricked the back of your eyes, but you refused to cry right now.

"Because you always have something to nag about. I'm always working too much or I didn't do the dishes or take the trash out. It's always something with you, I can never just rest when I'm here. That's why I'm always at the studio-"

"Oh, cut the shit Chan. We both know you're not always at the studio." You interrupted him.

"What are you talking about?" He was starting to get visibly irritated with this whole conversation, but you didn't care. you were done pretending like this didn't bother you.

"I know your cheating on me." It was your first time saying it out loud, and boy did it have a bitter taste.

Chans whole demeanor changed, his face fell, and his shoulders tensed. "What?"

"I'm not an idiot Chris, if you aren't getting it from me, you're getting it from someone else. I mean c'mon it's so fucking obvious, you're gone all the time, and you haven't touched me in months," This time a stray tear fell down your cheek, a result of having these emotions stored away for weeks. "If you don't want me anymore just say it, don't torture me like this, I can't take it, I care for you too much." And then it all came crashing down on you at once, the possibility that you might lose him, you might lose the beautiful life the two of you used to share. The late-night movie marathons, the times you'd cook dinner together, laughing at the way he was terrible at chopping vegetables. The walks on the beach where he'd pick you up and pretend to throw you in the water, getting a kick out of the way you'd hold on to him for dear life. The times when he kissed you before leaving for work, and made love to you when he returned, telling you how much he missed you while he was away. How much he loved you.

The next thing you knew you were sobbing into your hands, letting go of everything you kept hidden for so long.

Chan stood there, eyes glued to the floor, mouth agape. You were too busy crying your eyes out to notice the tears escaping past his eye lids too. "Do you really think I'd do that to you?" His voice broke halfway through his sentence.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like I don't even know you." You whispered before finally wiping your tears away and raising your head to look at him. You were more than surprised to see his bottom lip quivering and his whole body shaking, in a silent cry. You didn't know how to react; you'd never seen him cry like this before. You wanted to lunge at him and hold him close, to take all his pain away and tell him everything would be okay, but he should be the one doing that for you, not the other way around.

"I'm so sorry," He sobbed. " I have no excuse to be so distant like this, but I'd never cheat on you. Like it or not, you're the only person in this world for me, and now knowing that you thought that was the reason I haven't been here hurts like hell, but I don't blame you, I don't even know why I've been like this, it's like I'm on autopilot, working until I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Anything would have been better than the silence."

"I don't know, baby." A broken cry leaving his lips, but the pet name warmed your heart, and you couldn't help yourself any longer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you than he has been in weeks. He immediately responded, hugging your torso and burying his face into your neck. If you had known he was feeling this way you wouldn't have sprung this whole thing on him the way that you did. "I just feel so numb, so I did the only thing I know how to do." Which was make music. Because that's what he did, poured every ounce of his emotions into the beats that he sewed together to make something beautiful. "I don't know what's wrong with me." You held him as he cried and explained how tired and confused he was as to why he couldn't feel anything. He had drained every last drop of himself into his work, that's why. He always put the members and fans first, inconveniencing himself every time someone asked him of something, picking up the other members and staffs slack just so they could meet their deadlines. He doesn't know how to pace himself; he goes, and goes, and goes until his body and his mind can't take it anymore. he can't feel anything because he's felt enough. He has nothing left to give.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. everything's going to be okay."

~

And so, for the next few months he was going to work on himself and rest, to regain what he once had. After that night you made him take a few days off from work so he could rest, in which he used the time to make up to you by making love to you several times a day. He set up a steady schedule for work, making sure he didn't stay any longer than nine to ten hours a day and taking the weekends off. He even stopped doing the things that the managers and staff were supposed to do, which resulted in them falling behind on many things, and made for a hectic couple of weeks. But in the long run people started to realize that Chris wasn't letting them use him as he was before, so they pulled their shit together and finally did their jobs correctly. This was the first time you've seen him so happy and comfortable in his own skin, and you hoped that it'd never end.

taglist: @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukis wife @seung-mine @sungprotector @favieeerrrr @soephiphanymain @z4ir3 @minnieslover

[lostarchivesoforpheus]

Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!

`•- Time for Yourself

pure vanilla cookie x fem reader

summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?

warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((

a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.

Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.

That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.

You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.

He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.

When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.

"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.

As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"

You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.

a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao

[gingiesworld]

Family is Forever

Chapter Seven

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Attempted SA. Violence

Taglist: @fxckmiup @ginnsbaker @gb12d @angrywhisperslove @louxbloom @casquinhaa @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @wandanats-goodgirl @forthelesbians @the-ox-fan20 @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

Since Wanda left Y/N's apartment weeks ago, she hadn't really spoke to them. Even when it comes to dropping the twins off or picking them up, she would remain in the hall. This was something that Y/N had found strange.

"I have a business trip in two weeks." Y/N informed her. "Pepper wants me to lead the meeting at the Manhatten branch."

"Ok." Wanda nodded as Y/N watched her curiously.

"What is going on Wanda?" They asked her.

"Nothing." She spoke bluntly as Y/N looked behind them as they waited for the twins.

"Come on Wanda, talk to me." They spoke tenderly as she shook her head.

"I can't do this right now Y/N." She spat just before the twins came to the door with their bags in hand, both hugging Y/N goodbye.

"I will see you at the decathelon." Y/N told Billy who beamed. "I will make sure I am back in time for it." They reassured him as he nodded with a smile. Y/N watched as the twins followed Wanda out of the hall. A sigh leaving their lips as they turned around and headed back inside.

As the hours ticked by, they decided they didn't want to sit on the sofa and wallow in self pity and hatred. So they decided to grab their jacket and keys and headed out. Sending a text to Maria, hoping she would be up for drink and a chat.

"You know, it has been way too long since we hung out." She teased them as they both sat at the bar.

"Well, I just need to get out." They told her as she gave them a sad smile. Accepting the beer from them with a smile. "I just, I have realised that I am truly alone."

"No you're not." She told them softly, already noticing how tired and thin they look.

"I am. Without Wanda and the twins I am nothing." They told her honestly. "I ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me and I can'r fix it because now Wanda won't say more than two words to me."

"Maybe she needs to adjust to this new arrangement too." Maria reasoned as Y/N shook their head no. "Nat has told me that she isn't doing the greatest either. She misses you but the two of you are too stubborn to talk."

"I don't work as much as I used too." Y/N informed her. "Pepper informed me that they were cutting back on my load because of the screw ups I have made." Y/N chuckled dryly. "It's funny how when I have more time, Wanda wants a divorce." Maria just watched her best friend, listening as they spoke, getting everything off of their chest. "Therapy is pointless because all they want to do is prescribe me medication, saying I'm depressed. I know I'm depressed and I don't need a doctor to tell me." They flagged down the bartender to order another two beers. "As well as sleeping tablets because I haven't really slept since I moved out of the house. I get at the most four hours a night if I am lucky."

"I am so sorry Y/N." Maria spoke tenderly. "But you will always have me if you need to talk."

"Thank you Maria but I will be fine." They told her before they changed the subject, wanting to hear about her life and what they have missed.

Y/N spent the majority of their week getting ready for the work trip with the help of Pepper. Making sure they had everything they needed, hotel bookings and everything before they headed to Manhatten, driving for a couple of hours before they reached their destination, hoping to get this job sorted out before Billy's big day.

"So, they have gone a work trip." Natasha stated as Wanda hummed. "Maria was the one who told me about it Wanda, and that you have completely froze them out."

"Nat, I appreciate you coming around but I have a study date." Wanda told her tiredly. "The twins are at Pietro's and I have my final exam in a couple of weeks."

"Wanda." Nat gave her a disapproving look. "You aren't even divorced and you're moving on already."

"I am not!" Wanda yelled as she placed her cup down. "I am not moving on. It's just Simon and I studying and going over what we have learned in class."

"Ok." Nat gave a her a curt nod as she pursed her lips. "If you need me, call me and I will come running ok."

"Ok." Wanda sighed as she watched her friend leave. Having the water bottles on the table ready with some snacks as the doorbell rang.

As the evening wore on, Wanda had her folders and books all around her as she sat on the floor, a pen between her teeth as she read over a paragraph.

"What's the deal with you and your well, I don't know what to call them." Simon questioned as he looked up at the picture of the four of them together.

"It's complicated right now." Wanda told him.

"Are they here?" He asked as she shook her head no.

"They are on a work trip in Manhatten." Wanda informed him as he hummed, something flashing in his eyes as he approached Wanda who just looked up at him confused.

"So you have the house to yourself?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

"I do. Why?" She asked him confused as she took a step back from him, her whole being was on fire, telling her that something is wrong.

"Well, we could maybe do something more." He gripped her hips, pulling her into him as her hands went to his chest.

"No." She tried to get him off of him but he was stronger than her. Forcing her onto the sofa as she hit out and kicked at him. "Please stop." She cried as he moved to kissing and sucking her neck as he roughly groped her chest. Not realising that a car was pulling up, knocking on the door and getting no answer. So they decided to use their key, hearing the cries and the struggle coming from the living room.

"Just be a good slut and let me fuck you." Simon told her as she cried for him to stop and leave her alone.

"HEY!!!" They yelled as they ran towards them and tackled him from her. Wanda quickly shuffled to get off the sofa and stand against the wall. The tears falling as she sobbed loudly as she watched Y/N punch him repeatedly before both Maria and Nat came running in.

"Wanda." Nat looked at the broken woman as she pulled her to the kitchen. "What happened?" She questioned as she got Wanda some water.

"Stop Y/N!" Maria was yelling as she finally pulled them away.

"No!" They yelled as Maria pushed them against the wall. "He deserves more than what he's got for what he did."

"Let the police deal with it." She told them sternly. "You have kids to think of Y/N. And their mother." She watched as Y/N nodded, breathing heavily as they watched Simon struggle to sit up.

"Your wife wanted it." He said as he spat on the rug. Maria had to throw Y/N into a headlock as they tried to run passed her.

"Y/N, I am warning you now." Maria told them sternly. "I don't want to have to put you in a cell."

"Make it the same one as him." Y/N growled as their eyes remained on him.

"No." Maria spoke calmly as Nat and Wanda watched the two of them. "I've called Steve and Sam, and they will take care of him." Maria told them as she pushed them back before she grabbed her handcuffs. She glared at Simon as she cuffed him. "You make me sick." She seethed as he just spat in her face, in time for Steve and Sam to walk in.

"I guess we missed a party." Sam joked as the four of them just glared at him.

"Just get him out of here before I kill him." Y/N told them as they soon disappeared up the stairs. Nat on their heels as Maria stayed with Wanda as she gave her statement.

"Why did you come here?" She asked them as they grabbed a file.

"I forgot about this file." They told her. "I have a meeting tomorrow and this is last years stock readings for the New Jersey branch and I need it to compare with the Manhatten branch." They sighed as they stood up looking through the window. "I just never expected to see someone take advantage of Wanda like that and I just lost it. I just." They took a deep breath. "I will apologise to her." With that they walked passed her and headed down the stairs. Watching as Maria cleaned up before they headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Wanda asked them.

"I have to drive back to Manhatten." They told her without turning around.

"Your hand." Wanda stated as Y/N looked down at it.

"It's ok." They shrugged as they walked away. Wanda felt bad for how she froze them out but as they had defended her. Her heart dropping at the realisation she had screwed up the one good thing she had.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Hello my maggots 💕 I woke up from my sleep and I'm sure I'm better. I hear you were worrying on the Discord server and I promise you don't need to.

Basically day before yesterday, after therapy I was stressing out so much about college and finances that I wasn't in the most uh present state of mind. I ended up falling down half a flight of stairs. Which is NOT a lot, it was like four steps.

Because I didn't break the fall with my hands, my wrists were fine and i could type, so I didn't really care about my legs. This turned out to be one of my less intelligent decisions. It got swollen and painful. That's all (I swear).

I got yelled at by a bunch of you (I love you maggots) and so I took my arse to the hospital. I was sobbing there because I was stressed about college (I had to explain to them that no, it was NOT paining that badly, I was worrying about other stuff) (I mean come on I got through the whole bleached hair chemical burns thing without crying why would I cry here).

Anyway, I got X-rays of both my legs and then I fell fast asleep. I don't remember what happened much after that, because I was dazed, there was a diclo injection and the doctor said something about no fracture, just a mild haematoma. So it's all good. Then I got back and slept.

OH AND. At the hospital, I cuddled the Good Omens book and slept. It reminded me of you all and of Crowley and that there's a whole world out there that isn't the shitty one I live in. I read one line of it, where Crowley at the birthday is cringing in contact embarrassment at Aziraphale's magic and it made me smile.

Look, it's me just after the X-ray. I was exhausted but I read the Crowley line 💕

"What about Internet safety Asmi???!" I am far too tired of everything to care, my loves.

I just want you to know that I'm okay, and that when I was miserable and sleeping at the hospital, what comforted me was the book because it reminded me of you.

I love you all so much. I hope you're all okay. I'm sorry to everyone I haven't replied to on dms here or on discord or the notifs I haven't got to. I'm really trying, and I'll do better.

Take all the love in the world.

Asmi 💕

[whatsthethinking]

Hi can I request a Tonowari fic where his female mate is exhausted and can’t wait for him to come home as she wants to be in his arms and when he does home she jumps into his arms and he wraps his arms around her holding her close asking what’s wrong, she says nothing just that she missed him nuzzling her face closer to his warm chest, he laughs and rubs her back before moving them to the ground and he sits down holding her in his lap stroking her hair and kissing her softly with her arms around his waist, he talks with her and asks her questions she doesn’t respond eventually he hears her soft purrs and even breath letting him know that she’s fallen asleep on him with her head resting on his shoulder snuggling into his warmth, he kisses her hair and lies down with her stroking her back? Thanks 😊

Here With Me

Tonowari x Fem!Reader

❥ Word count: 1.1k

❥ Warning: n/a

❥ Note: Helloooo, this is my first request and I am open to writing more, so if you have any requests, feel free to send them to me. As of right now I am open to writing for any character.

Life on Awa’atlu is always so calm and peaceful; oh how y/n wished she could agree. For months now, she has been training to be the clan’s Tsahik. She knew it would happen eventually but the time seemed to arrive quickly. Every day, she would sit with the clan's current Tsahik, her mate's mother, and they would train. She would be quizzed on anything she had ever learned.

Y/n understood why this was necessary; being Tsahìk was not an easy job to have. You had to have the most profound connection to Eywa, and have the trust of the people, but as time went on, y/n felt more and more exhausted. She was beginning to doubt herself.

Y/n couldn't complain; she knew that this was what would happen when she agreed to mate with Tonowari. He was to be the next Olo'keytian, and she will be his Tsahìk.

Tonowari was away on a hunting trip with his father, the current clan leader. This was not anything new; since they were children, the Olo’keytian would whisk his son away to train him. The father and son duo had been away for almost a week, and y/n was missing him terribly. She missed having him there to talk to. Missed having him there to reassure her, encourage her, and listen to her. Yes, she had other friends to talk to, but this wasn’t the same. Tonowari was her best friend before they became mates, telling each other everything.

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” Tonowari’s mother said, placing her bowl of herbs to the side, seeing how tired her son’s mate appeared.

“Once I've finished this.”

“No, I’ll finish it, go and rest, child.”

Y/n nodded and slowly stood up, not going to miss the chance to be alone.

Making her way out of the healers marui, y/n slowly walked towards the beach, needing time to relieve stress before she returned to her empty marui.

Sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest, y/n closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, she felt someone sit down beside her.

“Hello, miss Tsahik.”

A tired smile appeared on y/n face, “my dearest Ronal.”

“How’s it going?”

Turning to face her friend, y/n nodded tiredly, “Good, it's going… Good”

“Good? You look like you haven’t slept in three days.”

“Four, actually.” Y/n joked.

Ronal smiled at her friend before standing up, brushing the sand off her legs and holding out her hand, “Let’s get you to bed then.”

Y/n slowly took her friend's hand and stood up, Ronal brushing the sand off of her too.

“It’s too early for bed; I haven't even eaten.”

“Shh, it’s never too early for bed. Get some rest; I'll make something and bring it to you later, once you've woken up. Can't have you sleep deprived when Tonowari returns.” A smirk appeared on her lips.

Y/n smiled bashfully, her face heating up at Ronal implication but nodded, allowing her friend to guide her back to her marui.

The two girls spoke briefly before Ronal left, reminding y/n that she would come by later with food. Once y/n was alone, she sighed, looking around the empty marui. She missed Tonowari deeply, wishing that this trip would end so she wouldn’t feel alone.

Tonowari and his father walked up the beach just as the sun was starting to set. Residents of the village greeted them with smiles, but Tonowari couldn't see the one person he was looking for. His y/n. Excusing himself from the crowd, he walked to the healer's marui, thinking she would be there but, she wasn’t.

As he turned to leave, he came face to face with Ronal. Before he could speak, she shoved three leaf packages into his chest.

“Those are for y/n.”

“Where is she?” 

“Asleep. Hopefully. Bye”

With that, Ronal had walked off. Tonowari stood dumbfounded at the very brief encounter with his mate's best friend before letting his feet carry him to their shared marui. Stepping inside, he noticed a bundle of woven blankets against the far wall. Putting the packages down gently, he walked over to the bundle to see the top of his mate's head poking out.

Tonowari smiled sweetly at the sight, going over, getting down on his knees to kiss the side of her head. He could tell that y/n would be asleep for another hour or so, so he sat on the other side of the marui, sorting through the assortment of shells and rocks he had collected on his travels. Thinking of how he can make them into gifts for his loved ones.

As time passed, Tonowari heard a change in y/n breathing as she turned over, indicating that she was waking up. Slowly she opened her eyes, Tonowari giving her a gentle smile.

“You’re back,” y/n scrambled up and leaped onto her mate, still seated on the floor, her arms circling his neck. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Tonowari circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. 

“I couldn’t; you looked so peaceful.”

Squeezing, y/n pulled away, sitting on her knees so that she was somewhat eye level with her mate. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Tonowari cut her off.

“I missed you,” he said sincerely, which made her heart flutter, 

“I missed you too.”

Tonowari gently pulled his mate forward and turned her so she was sitting with her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head again. Y/n turned her head, smiling up at her mate. Tonowari smiled down at her, placing a small kiss on her lips, followed by a second and a third. The pair grinned at each other before y/n turned back around, leaning her head onto her mate’s chest, and Tonowari placed his chin on her head.

Their pair asked each other about what they had missed being apart. Tonowari spoke about what he had seen while hunting, how he and his father stayed with another clan on a small island not too far from where they are now. Y/n hummed every once and a while to let him know that she was listening.

“How was your training this week?”

But Tonowari didn’t get a reply, peering down at his mate. He noticed that her eyes were closed and her breathing even. Smiling softly, Tonowari carefully lifted her, taking her to the sleeping mat and blanket. Setting her down gently, he laid beside her, pulling the blanket over their bodies. Tonowari wrapped his arms around her as her head rested on his chest.

“Sleep well, my love.”

[crownmemes]

Tired Sentences, Vol. 1

(Sentences for muses that desperately need a break. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Can't I just sleep?"

"I think you should rest. You're not really making much sense."

"I don't think I can deal with him right now. Make something up for me, will you?"

"Have you slept? You're going to make yourself ill."

"I think could sleep for a week straight."

"Could you just talk... Less please?"

"I'm not tired. I'm just... Exhausted."

"Have you been up all night?"

"How does one rest when the mind refuses to sleep?"

"What are you still doing here? Your shift finished ages ago."

"I'm too exhausted to even think straight."

"I haven't taken a day off in four years."

"Listen, you're making terrible decisions right now because you're not thinking clearly!"

"You're going to stay up all night again, aren't you?"

"Is this just confusing because I haven't had my coffee yet?"

"I don't have enough caffeine in my system to understand you right now."

"What the hell are you doing here this late?"

"Can't I ever have peace?"

"I can't keep my eyes open any longer."

"Life has a way of draining you, doesn't it?"

"Have you ever been so tired that sleep seems like a luxury?"

"You know, Chernobyl, Exxon Valdez, Three Mile Island - they were all linked to sleep deprivation."

"Even my bones are tired."

"You look absolutely terrible today."

"You were rambling and you told me that you loved me."

"I'm here, but I need coffee."

[n30nwrites]

the lost boys with male reader who loves naps and is always so sleepy, falls asleep anywhere and gets whiny when the boys tell him he can’t nap cus he sleeps too much n it’s not good for his health <3

Hand in Hand; Comfort mixes with Safety

Summary: Heading to the pier, you can't help but Fall asleep, that's what happens when you finally find your safety.

a/n: Yk I love my lost boys soft, i don't do that manipulative shit (also it drains me). This is short. I don't even know when this request was sent so sorry if it's been a bit.

Word Count: 1.0k

Reader: Male, 2nd person. Use of nicknames but they are genderneutral for the most part, He/Him pronouns are used.

Warnings: Fluff, Surf Nazis, Mention of murder and othr Lost Boys stuff but nothing gone into detail. Reader wants to sleep but boys are worried.

Disclaimer; i do not own The Lost Boys Characters nor Story line nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any images used.

Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are appreciated.

It was easy to fall asleep around them. Not that they were boring, they were quite the opposite actually. But once you had felt safe with them, being around them just felt so calming that you could close your eyes and rest.

And you did that, often.

You loved them, just a little but more than you loved naps. You were always tired, and with your trust in the boys, you knew you could fall asleep at any point and they would protect you.

You never got sleep, you just had naps. Which you preferred. A few hours of sleep made you feel better than sleeping for 8 hours.

Like now, you were napping. You were in the between stages of awake and sleep, your body slowly going numb as your eyes kept fluttering close, your jacket was zipped up to prevent the cold and you were laying your head on David's back.

You were falling asleep, holding onto David on the back of his motorcycle while you and your boys were heading to the pier. The boys could hear your heart beat slowing down, and Marko and Paul looked at each other.

Sleeping on the back of his motorcycle whilst the boys drove at high speeds was dangerous, and David faltered when he felt your grip loosen, his foot slowly lifting from the peddle and slowing down, he readjusted his hands.

"You gotta wake up Darling." David drove with one hand, the other gripping both of your wrists, holding you tightly. "Can't fall asleep on the drive, you'll get hurt." Still human, still fragile, he hated it.

"i'll be fine..." your voice came out soft, as your whined and dug your face deeper into his back, and through the rushing wind if they were human you wouldn't have been heart at all.

"Gotta stay awake, not good for you." He rolled his shoulders, disturbing your comfort more for the sake of keeping you awake. You just huffed at his words, groaning and just turning your head, now facing Dwayne instead of the terror twins. "Don't ignore me."

"We'll be there in a few minutes, just let me sleep until then." It was almost hard for him to argue against you. Out of the four of them, David liked spoiling you the most, anything you wanted, he was willing to give to you. David's one hand that was steering the motorcycle quickly left to gently slap your thigh, "Few more minutes, for me?"

"Love you." Your hands grabbed his shirt, as you put your head on his shoulder, wind blowing in your face so you could stay awake. David returned to his normal speed, which was illegally fast, and it wasn't long before they arrived at the pier, and immediately received dirty looks from the onlookers. You continued to lean, except this time on Dwayne as he was the quieter and stood still better than the blondes. "What are the plans?"

"Terrorize some surf nazis, eat some food because, you, Darlin', haven't eaten at all today and I'm not even sure about yesterday." You weren't with the boys yesterday, work tired you out more than usual and you slept throughout the day, only waking up to do some chores, which they had no idea about. Paul wrapped his arm around you, pulled you away from your human pillow, tugging you to the rides and the food, the sweet smell filled the air.

Nothing really stopped you from your tired state though. While Paul pulled you ahead, Marko, Dwayne, and David followed behind, a few steps away as they spoke to each other.

"It's not healthy for humans to be sleeping this much, right?" David asked.

"Not really, especially with the way he forgets to eat." Dwayne watched as your steps stuttered, slightly tripping over yourself.

"We need to turn him."

"He doesn't want to yet, we're lucky he's fine with everything else." Marko wasn't just mentioning the fact that you knew they were vampires. It was the fact that when David would do anything for you, that meant killing for you, and the other three wouldn't have opposed doing so in your name. And you were aware of that, just that your mind often was imaginative and the one time you had stumbled upon them whilst they were killing, you hadn't exactly been fine with it all. You knew they killed, seeing it meant something else though.

"His health will only get worse if he continues like this."

"Not like he'd actually get it checked out."

"Come on Boys!" You called for them, as Paul was quickly walking to a food truck and grabbing you something. It didn't take long for him to come back, probably because he cut the line and despite his aura, Paul was threatening. You ate quickly, as Marko had insisted that they should head to the Ferris wheel, your eyes were heavy but you tried your best to stay awake.

That didn't last long.

Hadn't even reached the top and your head was slumped against Paul's shoulder. You said you were just resting your eyes but that was a clear lie to everyone that knew you. When you reached the top you were out of it, and the boys just watched, staring as your chest relaxed and your stomach slowly went in and out, your heart beat being the one thing they were focused on.

When the ride ended, Marko was the one to try to wake you, he put his hand on your thigh and gently shook you awake. "Stop..." You dragged out the 'p' as you gently pushed him away.

"We gotta get off."

"Don't wanna," You slurred your words, "I'm tired, Paul's comfy."

"You think all of us are comfy," They were getting closer, and whilst they would be fine with threatening the worker and making the teen just skip them, the boys still had to eat. "We gotta go, time to feed."

"Already ate."

"Not you Mi Corazón."

"Oh." You took your head off of Paul's shoulder as the door opened and Dwayne stepped out. The four followed after him, as they headed towards the beach for a bonfire.

"You've gotta stop sleeping so much, completely ignoring the party all night we got going on." Paul joked, laughing at your playful scowl.

"Plus it's not healthy." Marko adjusted his arm to wrap around you. Another thing the boys did, constant touching. It didn't have to be all the time, but just one of them needed to be touching you.

Comfort, that's what you all felt around each other.

[alastrrz]

perhaps write what an argument is like with blake/yumi? some angst perhaps :3

sure. it might get a little intense but i promise there's some comfort!

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 FIGHTING ; BLAKE

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; hurt/some comfort

type; blurb

a/n; read with caution! this includes yelling, crying and flinching. there is some comfort, but probably not as much as you'd like.

read below!

Blake was normally one to yell. But, y'know, for views. He never yelled at you, he never has, and you honestly thought he never would. Until the night he stayed up for LTLVC. He hadn't slept in 33 hours, but hey, he just won fifty thousand dollars.

You had to deal with him screaming and yelling and making all kinds of different sounds throughout this year's LTLVC. You hadn't lived in the Group House until this August, so this was your first time seeing all the shenanigans first hand. It was definitely interesting.

You also wound up turning into your boyfriend's maid. Bringing him everything he wanted or needed, like water or a snack. Hell, you even kept the guys company whenever Blake had to go to the bathroom.

After waking up for what you assumed would be the final time during this LTLVC, you could tell.. Blake was losing it. He was talking about random shit, it basically looked like he taped his eyes open. It was him and Larry sat in the vc along with Isaac. The final two. Then, suddenly, you hear your boyfriend, "KICK HIM! KICK HIM! DISCONNECT!" And that's when you knew, Blake just won this year's challenge.

You smiled wide, jumping up from Blake's bed. "You won?!" He smiled at you, "I WON! I FUCKING WON!" You stayed by his side for a bit, waiting for them to finish up the recording. After about five more minutes, you guys were in the clear. Blake stretched and groaned loudly, "My.. GOD!" He sighed out, his limbs shaking from how much he was stretching.

"Baby, you just won fifty thousand dollars!" He stood up, "I know." His demeanor suddenly changed. "Blake? You okay?" He swatted his hand toward you, "Not now." He walked to the bathroom, very sluggishly, so he left you puzzled. He just won his first LTLVC, and now he's in a horrible mood?

"Blake?—" He groaned, "Oh my GOD, what?! What? I haven't slept in 33 hours, what do you fucking want? PLEASE just let me fucking sleep!" You immediately raise your hands in defense, as you've never had your boyfriend yell at you. At least, not in a serious way.

"Nevermind." You sighed, heading towards his bedroom door. "Don't fucking be like that, what's the problem?" Blake spoke through gritted teeth. You rolled your eyes at him, "I said nothing! I'll be in the living room. Bye." Blake rolled his eyes in response to you, "Whatever! Go sleep on the couch for all I care!"

Ouch.

Huh.

He's never said that one to you before. Was he serious? "Are you serio—" He nodded, "Yes! Now please get the FUCK out so I can sleep!" He slammed his body down onto his mattress, almost immediately falling asleep. You strolled out of his room, spotting that Nick was in the living room. "Hey, Nick?"

Nick looked towards you as you made your way down the stairs, "Hey! Heard prince charming isn't being too charming?" You sighed, "I don't know why he's being a prick." Nick laughed, "I know why. He hasn't slept, He hasn't had a proper meal, and he's just really, really tired."

"He told me to come sleep on the couch." Nick hissed, "Oooh.. Rough. He'll get over it. Promise. He'll be splitting that fifty grand with you in about.. four business days, he'll be asleep for the four days." Nick handed you his untouched cup of coffee, "Want some?"

"Y.. Yeah, sure. When should I go check on him?" Nick shook his head, "No, no, he'll come down here when he's ready, promise. He'll regret everything, try to make it up to you." You started softly crying, your blurry eyes focused on whatever was playing on the TV. "I'm just scared I made him really mad." Nick shook his head again, "Nope, Y/n.. Look, he gets like this after every year's last to leave. This year's just so much worse, because he won. He is tired."

You nodded while sipping your coffee, "Thanks, Nick." He nodded at you, "Yeah, sure. We can stay down here and watch whatever you want until you fall asleep down here?" You nodded, "I'd like that."

[sillyguy99]

* don't look now, but i lost my shoe.

(Undertale Sans x Reader)

Chapter One: * what's with these homies, dissin' my girl?

[Index | Next]

Notice:

(This story is nearly 5 years old, and though it doesn't show my best work, I decided to post it, just because I stopped it at chapter 18, when there were only 2 more chapters left to finish it. So... I'm gonna give it another shot – making minor edits to make the plot less dramatic and angsty, lol.)

(***Also, since Tumblr has a more limited format: italic texts are from you, the reader, and bold texts are from others.)

• • • • •

You've changed.

The best thing your boss did was to give you that warning.

You shouldn't keep working for the law if you're just gonna be a traitor.

How am I a traitor?

You work 9 to 5, sometimes 8 to 6, for the benefit of monsters.

Now, all of a sudden, our sex life goes down the drain.

I haven't slept with you since you got that promotion, and that was two whole months ago.

I'm supposed to be your husband, but you've left me in the dry.

I'm tired.

And I refuse to sleep with someone who won't support me in my new job.

Or should I remind you said I wasn't a real detective?

That my degree's 'worth shit', simply because of the field I'm working in these days?

               The rest is an ongoing, fruitless conversation you can't bother yourself with.

               Through reading those texts for what has to be the twentieth time today, you sigh, hiccup, and close your eyes tight, lifting your face slightly to avoid letting tears fall. 

               Barely two hours are left until he comes home to drop off your child, and the mere thought that you have to sleep with him five hours after that makes your stomach twist and churn. You don't want to imagine him naked: panting, heavy, and on top of you again, doing whatever he pleases with little regards to your own limits. Nausea takes over – violent, making you open your eyes and suppress a gag.

               You really, really don't want anything to do with him anymore.

               Yet, he insists you should remain married until your child reaches their eighteenth birthday.

               “At least wait until they're grown up,” he said. “Cuz what's six more years? Be honest with me.” Then, he chuckled. “As ugly as you frown when you see me, I doubt you hate me that much.”

               That had been a year ago.

               Would you really have to wait five more years until your freedom?

               The thought sends chills down your spine.

               While he was a good father, that adjective didn't really fit next to husband. 

               At the beginning of your marriage, yes – he was the best spouse you could ask for.

               Now?

               You'd rather eat drywall than have to spend a single second near him – without your child around, of course.

               With your newest agreement, it felt more as if your husband were a client, his payment being not making your life hell, and your service what he claimed was something a wife should be willing to give twenty-four seven.

               You shake your head and search for a distraction amongst the people surrounding the bar, aware you can only end up worse if you continue to dwell on the subject. The air presses down on you hot and heavy, a feeling that only increases the more time you stay seated without doing anything for your growing aches. Your sole companion is your mind when you realize you're too overcome with emotions to talk to someone without scaring them off. Chatter drowns out coherent thinking and sensory overload begins to show by how difficult breathing becomes. Seeking an escape route, you hold the bartender back with a raised hand and an 'excuse me'. Then, you ask him for some bottled water – the only kind he could touch willingly. Small embers flutter around the air as he turns around, leaving you alone with burning cheeks and a pounding headache. 

               Groaning, you pinch the bridge of your nose and blink through your blurry vision. Then, you adjust your glasses – despite knowing the excess shots have pretty much screwed you over already. The hour marked on your phone surfaces a sigh. How fast time seems to be going makes you notice you currently only have around an hour left before your husband arrives with your child. They would be staying with you while he went off to work, and the least you wanted was to look washed up for his arrival.

               "need somethin' else, pal?"

               You jolt at the new voice, deep and hearty.

               Reluctantly, you cast your gaze up to see a skeleton monster standing behind the counter, now glossy with polish. His face is tough to make out with the blurriness, yet you can tell he's looking at you. From the way he stands behind the counter and the stuffy look his suit gives off with its pristine and exaggerated formality, you figure he's a new employee. His newbie appearance doesn't erase the warm and welcoming aura most bartenders appear to carry by default, however. Instead, it makes his smile and words more genuine in his approach.

               It takes you a while to respond aside from shaking your head – mind hazy and disoriented. You thank him and sweep the water bottle off the counter, then turn the lid open, breathe in deep, and take a series of long, greedy gulps. Finally, you set it back down, more than half of it already gone.

               One more screw up, and you were out of your job at the law department for good.

               It doesn't help that you're currently hanging out at a place strictly and utterly forbidden by your boss: a hole-in-the-wall bar and grill establishment open to all, kept family-friendly during the day and becoming more daring during the night. It has been long since you ever drank alcohol of any sort, and it's beginning to show. You can hardly sit without tumbling pitifully to the side.

               “hey.”

               You're snapped back toward reality through the feeling of someone resting their arms over the counter, facing you and waiting for your return. 

               You frown and look up from the water bottle to see the same skeleton – his previous stuffy appearance appearing more natural now that he's taken off his tie and left two of the shirt's buttons unfastened.

               "i’m no expert on humans, but you look like you could use someone to talk to."

               You feel hazy again.

               And whether due to the drinks or the heat, you're not too certain of.

               But – right now – you're positive about one thing. 

               “U- Um…”

               As you wipe a tear off your cheek and burst out half a sob and half a laugh, you realize you really could use someone to talk to.

               “Thank you.”

[persage]

FORGIVEN- Brian Otis Zvonecek

Summary: You and Brian haven't seen each other for months, distanced by pain and resentment, but the past comes back to knock at the door a night like any other (but not without the help of Brett and Joe )

Warnings : Mention of Panic Attack and past abusive relationships

17.30 PM

"For the last time, Sylvie: I don't intend to come at any double date with... her." It's been about ten times that Otis has told her this, yet his friend hasn't stopped pestering him since the morning.

"It's not a double date!" Sylvie replies "You are just coming to the the Street Food Expo  with me, Joe and y/n."

"And I bet it's a coincidence that we are four people and two of us are a couple and then there's me and y/n. If this isn't a double date..." He mutters, shaking his head.

"Come on," She pleads "if you'll come, y/n won't be hanging around me and Joe all the time but at the same time she won't be in danger being alone at home. You know, since she has broken up with that asshole, Marcus, he follows her everywhere. He has even stopped by my apartment a few times, we haven't opened the door but it was scary as hell."

Otis tries to ignore the painful pinch in his chest at the mention of Marcus and the fact that he is now your ex. He tries to stop the anger that boils in his veins at the idea that someone could even think of hurting you. "Right, and you can't ask anyone else?"

This is not how he wants to say it, he doesn't know why words escape his lips like this. "No Otis, I can't and you know it too. You were her best friends, you still are." He shakes his head again, Brett nails him with an accusing look. "Come on, I'm begging you. If you don't want to do it for her, do it for me."

And truth is, Brian would do anything for you.

He has already done it, everything.

He has tired to save you for two years from that toxic and wrong relationship you got yourself stuck into, getting a door in his face and a broken heart in return. When Marcus has forced you to choose one day, you've chosen him.

"I don't even like the expo" He replies but now he's already convinced to come and Brett knows it.

"Pick us up at half past eight, be punctual and..." "But I do not -"

"Be on time and wear something nice, okay? You never know what can happen" After lingering for several seconds and insulting himself with at least fifteen different offensive expressions, in fact, Otis sighs and gives up.

"Alright then."

"Oh thanks!" Sylvie throws her arms around his neck, euphoric

"Thank you, thank you, tha –"

"Let's be clear about one thing, though" he interrupts her without breaking away "first: you owe me a favor, and secondly... You are aware that if this is a move to clarify things between me and y/n it won't work, right?" Brett giggles in amusement, pulling away but still holding him by the shoulders.

"Don't worry Otis, this night is for me not for you."

And Brian doesn't know why, but when Brett leaves a strange feeling pushes between in his chest and throat, something like an itch that he can not soothe. "But if you still want her, I'm sure y/n needs you"

This perhaps makes him feel almost worse.

9.15 PM

Friday night is almost as sacred to you as Christmas to your mother. Although practically everyone thinks of you as a pub girl, you love to spend Fridays at home, on the sofa wearing only a tank top, bra free, with sweatpants, a glass of wine and Marcus by your side back during the good old days, when he still was the guy you fell in love with in high school.

There was another time then when your Friday nights - but also your Saturdays and Tuesdays - were the Mollys.

Brian, to be more specific.

Your Fridays has been Brian at one point. When with Marcus it was all ups and downs, all messed up and sad and pathetic, you have found yourself there more and more, with that sweet, nice fireman you had slept with once, during one of the many breakups with Marcus, and who then somehow had became your best friend.

A friendship you've always  paid dearly for.

A punch once. A kick in the ribs. A glass on the head yet another time. Every time Marcus has remembered that Otis was still  part of your life, it has gotten worse. And you have accepted everything, without saying anything to Brian, because you were sure that if he knew that what you were going through was somehow his fault - of his texts and his calls-  then he would have felt guilty forever and you didn't want to. Also he was going to kill Marcus, and you didn't want that too. He would have tried to save you. Indeed he did it to be honest, after two years of friendship, after two years of lies and subterfuge, after two years in which you swore you had left Marcus so many times.

"It's really over" but then you always came back to him and Brian could only watch you self-destruct in the name of your sick love, of a life you didn't deserve, a man who have convinced you that you're worthless without him.

And that's how you feel now: worthless and pathetic.

Brian has tried to save you, even putting Antonio in the middle and reporting Marcus.

He did it without your knowledge, while you were still unconscious in a hospital bed, after Marcus threw you down the stairs.

A concussion, bruised face, broken rib and arm. Even that wasn't enough to make you give up.

"I fell" You have said to the police, saving his ass again one time.

"You didn't have the right" you have yelled at Brian, later, with an IV still in your body. He couldn't look at your swollen and pale face, he couldn't touch your cold skin. He couldn't accept that the best person he knew, the only woman in the world from whom he had willingly accepted a friend-zone because he would have wanted you in his life in any way, the person he called at the end of every difficult shift and  knew how to calm him like no one else in the world, you, his precious y/n were a mess of bruises, tears and broken bones.

In his heart he blamed himself for everything, because he should have stopped it, he should have killed Marcus, he should have asked you out after your first -and only- night together instead of waiting days just to find you with him again.

He should have understood sooner that he was the right man for you, gathered courage and stepped forward.

Brian could not understand that you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

"I can stand up for myself"

"Oh I. see it. Fuck I'm tired of finding you like this, I'm tired of standing still while you let that son of a bitch kill you."

He raised his voice and waved his hands in the air gesturing in a way that for some reason scared you and covered your face to protect yourself.. Your body instinctively reacted to the only thing it knew by now: violence and Brian looked at you with the biggest eyes in the world, scared of himself.. He brought a hand to his face, trying to hide how much that gesture of yours struck him, then he leaned towards you and gently as if you were made of glass, he embraced you.

It was the last time.

When you met again, Brian was at your door. When you met again, you had just discovered that no, he hadn't given up on the Marcus investigation and had continued to put Voight and his bloody cop friends in the middle.

"I did it because I'm your friend y/n fuck"

You opened the door just enough to see his face collapse as you yelled.

"Then maybe you shouldn't be. I don't need you"

It's been four months. Somehow you found the courage to leave Marcus when you saw him try to lay hands on Sylvie, one evening when she came by to see how you were doing. 

You've moved in with her, you've taken your life back in your hands . You've never seen Brian though.

"Hurry up y/n" Brett intimates.

"Take it easy, Joe will surely be late anyway" You reply, putting on your lipstick.

"There's been a change of plans," Syilvie says hastily, pulling on her black boots.

"Joe and Otis will be picking us up in a bit."

"When were you going to tell me he's coming too?" you scream, your voice  high-pitched, smearing lipstick in your cheeks in anxiety. You clean yourself quickly, so hard it feels like you want to peel off your skin and you try not to notice the way your heart has started pounding at the mention of his name.

You tell yourself that you can do it, that it's okay, that you're ready to see him again even if you know it's not true. For a moment a little voice whispers in you ear that you shouldn't go with them, but you can't: the idea of being alone still scares you.

"Please wipe that depressed look off your face" she begs.

"You know what's depressing? The fact that you have invited him because I can't be alone, at my age. It's all so absurd."

You shake your head, trying to smile

"Of all the people in the world you had to invite him? You couldn't invite... I don't know, Kelly? Dawson?" You ask, putting on your favorite jacket at full speed.

"Because he's your best friend and you miss him more than you care to admit and he's the only one you wouldn't be ashamed to tell what Marcus is still doing to you. Besides, I know he's the only one you could bear to spend some time with right now, he's special to you." she replies, bringing out the best of her innocent expressions, while you roll your eyes and just pray that it will end quickly.

You like less and less the fact that deep down you know how right Sylvie is: Brian Zvonecek is without a shadow of doubt the only person in the world who has managed to understand you, he was also the only one to touch the deepest strings of your heart when you thought it was made of stone after all the years with Marcus.

He has crushed your soul in a way no one had before and he did it with kindness and delicacy, without having to do anything more than be himself.

He has taught you to still believe in good people and in true love, the one made of caresses, of sharing, of sweetness.

You've figured it out too late and repaid him treating his like he didn't matter, like he wasn't important.

You know it's his greatest fear, being abandoned, being left behind, being less important to others, being the last wheel in the cart and you hurt him in the worst way.

No matter how much Sylvie and Joe keep telling you that it's not true, that in cases like yours it's a normal reaction, that Marcus has manipulated you for a long time, that Otis doesn't see it that way and that he will understand if you talk to him: you just can't look at his face now.

9.45 PM

"I still don't understand why I can't be in the front sit." Otis mutters, turning to look out the window at the Chicago nightscape.. It's just the beginning of the evening and he's already tired of the palpable tension between you two, he's tired of having to keep his head turned away because he can't bear the sight you, he's tired of feeling your eyes on him.

"Come on man. Sylvie 's my girlfriend it's normal that I make her sit here, Have you ever heard of gallantry?" Otis shakes his head. "Yes right, gallantry"

Sylvie turns towards you, she gives you a look to give you courage but you don't speak, you remain silent, you throw a few glances at Brian from time to time that he doesn't reciprocate and you are here, still, to torture your hands wondering if you should have stayed at home.

He hates you.

He hates you and you can't stand it.

When Cruz's car stops suddenly to avoid colliding with another car you are thrown forward hard. It's an instantaneous gesture, so quick, fast and natural that he doesn't realize it and maybe not even you. Not really.

In a second the fireman's arm is in front of you, as if to protect you, keeping you in your place, avoiding any kind of danger.

You don't even hear Joe and Sylvie's curses, you and Brian are still in your moment, still In the instant in which after so many months your bodies are touching again, and under layers of clothes you can both feel a shiver shaking your bodies .

"Everything Okay?" He asks, his voice shaking, realizing what he's just done. He withdraws his arm slowly, reluctantly. He hates to admit it, but he would like to stay like this forever.

This little contact, it seems enough for him and he feels like a fool.

A poor idiot in love.

You nod. "Everything fine?" You ask, looking directly at his face for the first time. You've missed his dark eyes so much that you can't quantify it in words, so much that the world exists only in his gaze and you wonder how you haven't realized before all this, how wonderful and big his eyes are.

How much you need his gaze on you.

He reciprocates with an intensity that scares you, that doesn't seem real. Marcus has never looked at you like that. Not even once.

Not even at the beginning.

Brian, he has looked at you like that all the time.

If he's still looking at you like that then maybe he doesn't hate you.

But then, as soon as he comes to his senses, his gaze returns hard, cold, distant, all hope is lost.

When the car starts again, he turns around and puts a distance between you two. The world is suddenly colder. He shifts his eyes to you, again and again, being careful not to be noticed.He thinks you are beautiful. He thinks you're beautiful and you seem better off without that asshole.

He can't help but be happy about it.

"It's going to be a long night," Joe murmurs softly.

I'm sure of that too, Otis thinks, still looking at you sideways.

He's never been lucky with love, of course, but with you it's something that goes beyond love, beyond friendship, beyond everything. Something he can't describe or name, but still hurts terribly

10 PM

Brian doesn't hate y/n, at all. He could never, not even when you  have decided to cut all ties. What makes him angry is never being able to fully understand you.

You are a mystery, even though he knows you so well. One second you're a strong and independent woman, the best he knows, the most talented, the liveliest and nicest, the next you're Marcus' puppet, silent at her side, submissive, afraid and dull.

Sure, it's not your fault, but he can't help but get angry to see how you let an ordinary man shut down someone as amazing as you, it angers him to know how little  respect you have for yourself to think you deserve something like this. No matter if it's over, Brian will carry this anger with him forever maybe.

Brett goes out of the car, clutching Cruz's arm, announcing that they're going to go for a walk on their own.

"No" You say instinctively. "I mean, I thought we were supposed to be together." You continue then, hoping you haven't offended Brian.

"We need to discuss something, then we'll catch up with you" Brett replies winking at Otis and walking away before he can reply.

Cruz doesn't know if his friend has the  strength to do it anyway. He is confused and upset to have you here again, Joe knows this and isn't entirely sure of Brett's plan.

"You're crazy" Joe whispers.

"They both need it, I can't take it anymore"

"You realize we're pretending to still be together just for them, Sylvie, you're crazy"  Joe shakes his head.

"it's crazy that those two don't talk to each other anymore"

Brian watches you, the way you bite your nails tense, the way you move your knee, and bite your lip. You are agitated and something more: scared. "Everything Okay?" He asks, his voice hoarse.

"Yes, yes, don't worry, it's just that I haven't imagine a night like this"

"And how have imagined it?" He asks. You shake your head, smile just letting your hair cover your face red with embarrassment.

"I didn't expect to see you Bri, I wasn't ready"And he almost wants to yell at you that you drove him away, and he doesn't need to talk. You know the face he makes when something makes him nervous, recognize it and remain silent. "I think we should go" he says he points to the stalls.. He starts walking then he stops and turns to you.

"I knew you'd be there, but it doesn't make it any easier"

You nod. "I'm sorry, I'd give anything to..."

The words dies in your throat.

"Me too y/n" he replies, hinting for the first time a smile under his mustache that you like so much.

"Come on, let's go get something to eat" he whispers.

You walk behind him.

It's not all solved, but it's a start and for now it already seems almost a miracle.

10.15 PM

You see him everywhere, it takes your breath away.

Marcus is in every shadow, in every man, in every corner and you can't help but tremble with every step you take. Your hands are shaking, your legs are limp and you're breathing hard but you don't want Brian to notice.

Marcus is in your head, just in your fucking head.

"Do you prefer ketchup or barbecue?" Brian turns to you, wallet in his hands, an almost serene expression on his face. It takes you a while to answer, to understand. You remember that you're at the hot dog stand, that everything's fine, that you're talking to Brian and Brett and Joe will be back soon and it'll be even better.

"I ... Nothing" You whisper, your voice trembles, your eyes move from side to side looking for something that can justify your fear, the shiver down your spine.

"You sure? Oh girl that's fool" He comments, giggling. You place a hand on his clutching wallet.

"No Bri, there's no need"

You don't want him to pay. It's not right.

"Look, it's okay. I'm still mad at you, but I'm also happy to be here and it won't make me broke" You don't even smile, you keep looking around you and you feel the air getting heavy, almost oppressive.

"Dude" One of the guys from the truck intervenes."Watch out for your girlfriend, she doesn't seem so well" Otis doesn't bother to say that you're not his girlfriend, he gently pushes you out of line as soon as he realizes you're shaking like a leaf and looking paler than ever.

He hates himself for not noticing it sooner.

"Ei ei y/n, what's going on?" You shake your head.

"it's nothing, it's All Right"

You can't tell him. You can't reopen this wound. Brian would freak out, look for Marcus.

What if... If he is really here?

He would put himself in danger for you, you know he would. You can't let it happen.

"I just need some air" You move away but Brian, quick as lightning, grabs you by the arm.. The gesture takes you back in time, where the hands holding you are not those of the fireman and they are not delicate at all but mean, cruel. You stiffen and Brian realizes it without you having to speak.

He seems to read your mind, he's always been good at it.

"Sorry" he whispers.

"You didn't do anything Bri. I'm not made of crystal, you can touch me"

You start walking again trying to erase the fear from your heart and he stops you after a few seconds, looking you up with his big dark eyes as if the whole world dependeds on you and you alone.

"Don' t look at me like this"

"Tell me what you have then"

You feel the tears tingling in your eyes when yet another shadow takes the form of your ex and feel your chest tighten and you want to die.

"Why? Damn Brian you should hate me! Stop worrying about me, I don't need you"

The man looks away, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed.

You realize what you've said:

I don't need you.

You take a step towards him and try to grab his hand.

"I...I didn't mean...I" And you wonder how it's possible to mess it all up again so easily.

Otis' hand trembles in anger under your fingers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"I will never stop worrying about you okay? I've tried and I just can't! It would have been wonderful to do it, to forget about you in a hospital bed bacause of that son of a bitch but there isn't a single, fucking day that I don't think about it and there isn't a day where I don't wonder what I could have done to stop it. And God, there isn't a day that I don't regret not making you fucking leave him earlier. For months I've spent every fucking second wondering how you were doing. So no, it's not about you. It's me. I, I need to know. Tell me what's wrong with you." He raises his voice but Brian doesn't scare you.

Come on, he's different and the way he looks at you... he's not angry, not really, it's something different and maybe worse: disappointed, desperate, scared even.

Terrified of realizing how his life depends on you.

"I see him everywhere" You confess in a faint voice, looking at the ground.

"I see Marcus everywhere and I'm terrified that I won't be able to figure out when he's really there and I'm scared of him, and I'm with you and he hates you so much and I'm scared he might hurt you. To you and the others and me.... I just want to erase him from my life but he's everywhere no matter what.

I left him he's everywhere and he'll never stop" Brian pulls you to him without thinking about it, as if months haven't passed, as if not a single day has passed. He squeezes you tight, you melt into tears with your face against his chest, sobbing like a baby.

"I'm sorry for how I behaved"

"Shhh it's okay, it's okay I know, I know don't worry I'm not angry. I swear it's okay"

He kisses your hair, kisses your forehead and every piece of skin he can reach and you've never felt as much at home as with him now.

"Marcus isn't here, and even if he was I wouldn't let him get near you, ever" This is exactly what scares you, but you don't say it, you don't have the strength.

"I don't deserve it" He shakes his head. "No, you don't deserve it. But I would do it anyway, even if you were the worst person on earth. And you're not" You smile as he slides his fingers through your hair.

"I think that Brett and Cruz have abandoned us"

"Actually, I'm kinda cold and I've never finished Galactica you know? " You confess.

He laughs, just moves away from you.

"You're so full of surprises" He fixes your hair and dries your tears with his tumb.

"Wanna go home?" He asks."

"No, I...God I don't know. I...I want to be with you. It doesn't matter where." You reply. You don't wanna rush things. The smile he gives you is priceless, you would spend hours looking at him like this, perhaps all the rest of your life if possible. You only care about him, the way he gazes at you and is so close, the warmth of his skin and the sparkle in his eyes.

I love you, you think.

I love you, Brian.

The realization falls on you like a Boulder. How can you only notice now?

It has always been so clear.

"Oh, seriously?" Laughs Otis "So how about we take a Taxi?" You nod smiling.

"As I said I need to finish Galactica"

"But you hate Galactica"

"But I love you"

[lyssismagical]

we'll all be here forever

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

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

read on ao3

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

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

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

He wouldn’t let them down.

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

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

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

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

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

“High school student slash superhero is more accurate.”

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

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

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

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

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

Tony sighs overdramatically and moves back to his lab bench.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even Flash has been worried about Peter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t understand.”

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

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

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

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

More effort.

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

May’s going to kill him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

“Panic attack.”

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing’s right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe that’s a mistake.

*

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

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

He was in for another long night.

*

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

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

Everything is resting on this.

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

Tony and Pepper won’t be able to retire.

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

Letting them down now?

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

He has to work harder.

He has to do more.

He has to be better.

 He has to.

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter doesn’t know what to say.

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

“I have to get into MIT.”

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

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

“Accident?”

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

“How is that a fluke?”

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter winces. “Please don’t.”

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

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

“Did Flash say something to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to get into MIT.”

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them seem to have an answer for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to do this.”

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

*

“Kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re still spying on me?”

“I’m checking in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly. Who are you to judge?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll figure it out. It’s okay.”

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

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

“I can do it!”

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

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

“It’s not going to happen.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kid-”

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

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

“Go away.”

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

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

*

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

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

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

Instead, he puts on a pot of coffee.

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

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

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

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

They stare at each other for a few moments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are?”

“You’re my kid, Peter.”

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

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

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

*

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

*

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.

*

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

*

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

And then, “I got accepted.”

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

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

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

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

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

Peter pulls him into another hug.

*

Peter doesn’t hear anything for weeks.

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

*

And then he gets it.

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

MIT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dear Peter Parker,” MJ reads.

[lover-girl-estxx]

Nick having some mental health issues, he has these bad nightmares and rarely sleeps good till he meets the reader and falls deeply in love with her and he finally sleeps a bit better when she stays over.

Angst with a lot of fluff

Thank you 🙏🏻

Nightmares

not my gif

| Nick's POV |

I've slept about four hours since Y/n left two days ago, she had a lot of writing to do for her book. It was the third day of no Y/n and every time I close my eyes I wake up in a cold sweat having horrible dreams about I don't even now what.

6:32pm.

M: Mamas?

Y: Nicky?

M: could you come stay the night?

Y: I still have a bit of writing or I would

M: Please? I miss you bring your stuff do it here

Y: I can't when you're cute face is looking at me the whole time

M: Y/n please :(

Y:i'll be there in 30, want me to grab food or us go?

M:Thank you! go

I opened the front door to her bag over her shoulder "hi" she smiled wrapping her arms around my neck kissed me my hands on her waist, she lightly put her hand on my jaw getting my face lean down "did you still up last night?" she asked "yeah playing COD" she pecked my lips "you have to to stop staying up so late" "I know" "i'm so hungry in 10?" I nodded letting her go past me before shutting the door.

| Y/n's POV |

"could you drive?" he asked I nodded he handed me the keys and opened the door for me "thanks!" I smiled. On the way to the taco truck Nick fell asleep in the front seat, I lightly shut the door behind me and went and and got same as we always did. I opened the door "you got food already?" he said running a hand over his face "yeah it was quick today" he nodded "wanna eat here" I nodded.

I was sitting with my back on his headboard his head on my ribs arm around my waist asleep, I couldn't write i'd stop to run my fingers through his hair and rub his back. I only had to write for one hour more so I slowly got up and went to the dining room. "what are you doing?" Nate said coming out of his room to grab a soda "writing I have one more chapter" "thought you only wrote at home?" he took a sip "you're brother really wanted me to come over and I missed him" "he's not been sleep well" "what do you mean?" "his nightmares are back I think heard him yell the other night," he shrugged "got them alot in high school" I closed my laptop "i've stayed here a lot think i've only had to wake him up once" I shrugged.

I set my laptop on his dresser then grabbed my skin care bag getting in bed next to him starting to put it on. his chest started moving up and down breathing heavy sweat building on his forehead, he started to make small noises and moving around. "Nick?," I rubbed his shoulder "Nick!" he sat up gasping "shit," he ran both hands down his face "i'm sorry" "it's okay Honey, Are you okay?" I pushed a piece of his hair "yeah i'm fine i'll be right back" he stood up fixing his basketball shorts.

I sat on the bathroom counter next to him, "what's going on?" I asked pulling him in front of me "just a bad dream happens sometimes" he shrugged "Nate said you've been having bad nightmares...That why you haven't been sleeping?" "no.." "nick?" I cupped his cheeks "..I have nightmare's sometimes..I don't really get them when you're here that's part of the reasons I wanted you to come here" I kissed his collarbone "come on" I grabbed his hand.

His head was laying flat on my shoulder I ran a hand through his hair "what do you dream about?" I asked kissing his forehead "I don't even know" he shrugged "i think it may be from my pills" I nodded.

"sleep baby I know you're tired....I got you" I said, he pulled me in tight "i'm about to be," he looked up at me "thanks for laying with me" he said half asleep "don't even" I pecked his lips "love you" he whispered "love you Nicky". I was up a little later than Nick and through the time I was he'd pull me closer or dug his head into my neck. I could tell something change in Nicks breathing, I rubbed his back kissing his head "it's okay" I whispered into his hair, he slowly opened his eyes looking up at me before pulling the blanket up to his chin "thank you" he rasped closing his eyes laying a light peck on my shoulder "yeah bubba" I laid my arm over his as he started falling back asleep.

[sweetbillwriting]

Love Just Happens

A New Chapter - Part 4

Characters: The future's Bill Skarsgård and others close to him. The rest is my own characters.

Setting: This story is set in the future but because it's hard to say how the world is then (and it isn't that important for the story) the future is similar to our time now, even with fashion and so on.

Warnings: 18+, age difference, smut, ageism, all sorts of talk about pregnancy, mental health problems, alcohol, cheating, porn, manipulation, kinks and fetishes.

His hands had been trembling for two weeks now. Small involuntary movements that didn't hurt but made him unable to do anything like he usually did. He had spilled coffee on their light beige rug in the living room, he had nicked himself when he shaved and he dropped his phone causing the screen to crack. His hands made life tough but it was a small thing compared to what had happened to his wife two weeks ago, what had happened to the both of them two weeks ago.

Bill thought back on the moment he had seen the red stain on Aurora's light pink dress while he sat on the couch in their New York apartment. It was bright and sunny outside but the blinds were down in all of their rooms. It had been night for them since they came home from the hospital.

Aurora had cried and blamed herself at the hospital, first at the E.R. then the private practice they moved to. They had miscarried because of the malformation of the fetus so her body had pushed it away because it wouldn't be able to survive. Several doctors had told her this. Several doctors had explained one glass of wine, a silly jump or her own emotions hadn't done this but Aurora didn't want to listen. She continued to say it was that one glass of red wine, the small climb at the talk show or her mixed feelings towards the pregnancy that had created the miscarriage. When she came home she instead became quiet and locked inside her head and after a few days she didn't get up from bed. She had been laying in bed for four days and Bill hadn't even noticed her go to the bathroom. Then it was him. He didn't know what to feel because right then and there it was Aurora he thought about and when he tried to think through his own feelings his brain shut off and rather wanted to think about the practical things like how to tell his daughters, how they would make it all public and when they would go back to Sweden. He felt stupid for thinking about such things when they had just lost a child and Aurora was still bleeding after the accident.

He had told his family what had happened, or he had told Gustaf and Sam who had told the rest. Sam had even offered to talk with Aurora, explain what had happened so she could stop blaming herself but for now she didn't even want to talk with him, her husband. He had also told his ex so she would know their trip would be longer. She didn't make a fuss over it because she also understood this was something really awful for Bill and his young wife.

Bill rubbed his face with both hands and looked tiredly around in the living room. Once again he thought about the practical things. All the stuff, gifts they had gotten for a new born baby. He must make them disappear from the house before Aurora would be home again.

"Hey…" suddenly said a weak voice behind him. He turned around slowly, like it was a deer he didn't want to frighten.

Aurora stood in the doorway to the living room dressed in just one of his black t-shirts, a similar one to the one he wore himself. Her hair laid messy and greasy around her head and she looked tired even if she had more or less slept for four days. Bill felt she looked smaller than usual but it was probably because of her timid way.

"Hey babe…" he said and really tried to sound calm and sweet. Don’t frighten her. Don’t frighten her. He stood up and dragged his hand through his hair. Aurora looked at him. He looked tired, confused and worried.

"Can I get a hug? Even if I haven't showered for… a week or something," she said. She sounded sad but not anxious as before. Bill felt his heart beating hard and how his hope came back to him. Maybe his hands even trembled less. He didn't say anything, just took her in his arms and let her hug him around his waist, disappearing in his embrace. Aurora pushed her nose into Bill's chest. He had showered that morning but didn't care that Aurora hadn't. She maybe was a mess right now but she was his beautiful mess.

"I don't want to do anything else than hug you, Lou. It's the only thing I want."

"I love you…" she whispered and kissed his chest. "I am so hungry…" she said with almost a giggle before Bill had answered her first sentence. He let go of her slowly and looked down at her.

"Then we fix that. Pancakes?" He said and dragged his hair through her hair even if it was unwashed. She smiled a little and nodded. She took his hand to walk to the kitchen and Bill pulled it up to his lips to kiss it.

"I love you, Lou."

×××

It was an approvement. Aurora sat on the couch staring at her nails after they had eaten. She didn't turn on the TV and he hadn't seen her phone anywhere. Bill didn't want to bother her but still be close so he walked around cleaning and pretended to work on his computer even if he just checked her. He looked at her examining her nails closely. He knew her ways so well now he knew she needed a refill. It probably bothered her, she always had perfect long nails. She continued to look at her hair, the long messy hair that needed a wash.

"Do you want me to wash your hair?" He said carefully and made Aurora smile a little.

"Do you think I need that?"

Bill looked at her deep in the eyes from the armchair he sat in and smirked.

"Maybe."

Aurora sighed but still wore a small smile.

"Okay… She stood up and walked to the bathroom while Bill stuffed his laptop away and checked his phone. He texted with her mother and was happy being able to say Aurora seemed to feel better. It took a few minutes for him to join Aurora in the bathroom and was met by a sight he wasn't at all prepared for. On the counter laid a long dark ponytail gathered with a light pink hair tie. He looked at Aurora who stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. Her waist long hair was gone and instead she had an uneven cut to her collarbones. Bill watched her in horror. Had she lost it? Must he take her to a mental hospital or something?

Aurora breathed deeply and continued to look at herself.

"A new woman," she said and smiled a little. She turned to Bill and looked at his horrified expression. She knew what he thought but it was far from the truth.

"It's okay. I have thought about it a long time. It's okay. I will go to a hairdresser to fix it, I just… Felt trapped by all the hair? Silly maybe but it feels good, like a new start."

Bill nodded a little and started to relax. He looked at the ponytail on the counter. He would miss it, her long, thick, fairytale hair but he would probably never say that to her. Aurora gave him a small smile and walked up to him.

"This is hard… This is…" Bill could see her eyes tearing even if she was smiling. "Fucking awful but I will be okay. You don't need to worry…"

Bill smiled unsurely and looked between her eyes and butchered hair. Even if she looked more or less like she was on the rock bottom he believed her.

They walked into the shower together, standing close to each other, as close as possible and let the water rain over them. Aurora worried she would bleed again but also knew Bill wouldn't care. He would never be so mean. Bill washed her hair while she pressed her cheek against his naked chest. It was easier to wash now. It didn't get as tangled and he didn't need to be as careful. Aurora breathed heavily and let tears fall but it wasn't anything Bill noticed because everything was already wet.

"How are you? Are you okay?" Aurora asked looking up at her husband when he was finished with washing her hair. Bill looked down at his wife with an overwhelmed expression and for a moment wondered if Aurora maybe felt like she had neglected him in her sorrow.

"I'm okay. I think."

He had been crying at the hospital when it happened. Both with Aurora and alone but since then he had mostly just walked around in some worried daze.

Aurora dragged her fingers through the hairs in his neck and looked at his big telling eyes. She could see he had problems finding his emotions so she pulled his head down so he could lay it on her shoulder. It was probably not a very comfortable position but she knew he calmed down when he could bury his nose in her neck. Bill breathed heavily while Aurora started to wash his hair and when she dragged her nails over his scalp he felt the tears slowly escape from his eyes. They had lost a child. It was never made for life, never even a baby but it was theirs. He breathed deeply and breathed Aurora in. In the middle of the sorrow he also felt fear. Aurora would never want a child with him after this.

×××

Bill wasn't really comfortable with leaving Aurora in New York but knew it was probably for the best. Her mother Melinda had come and would care for her while he could go back to Sweden, to his daughters and explain what had happened and why he and Aurora would be in the USA for a while. It wasn't what he wanted, he wanted to go back to Sweden and to be with his girls but he needed to give Aurora two weeks to heal her own way. Even if it also was his child, she was the one who had been forced to push the fetus out and after that go through the pain and changes in her body. Bill didn't want to be in the US anymore but he wasn't the one that needed the most healing and his girls had been away for long periods of time from him before so it would be fine.

Bill only went home to their house to leave his stuff but then he went directly to his ex. It was a Wednesday at the end of February and Stockholm still had quite a lot of snow. He looked at snow on the rooftops while he sat by his ex's dinner table waiting for coffee.

She looked at him a bit worried while she made coffee. He looked tired and sleep deprived and he played with his wedding rings in a nervous way. She knew what had happened but wondered if this was also the end for his marriage with the girl. It wasn't like she hadn't expected it, they were a weird match and the young girl seemed way too immature and sensitive for Bill who was calm and logical and had always been mature for his age. She put down the beige coffee cup in front of him and sat down opposite him.

"I must tell the girls… And it's probably the best if we are here. At home it's… I just know our manager has put a big package in the garage and the hallway is full with baby things… The dogs are with mom and… It's just a mess…" he rambled and rubbed his eye.

"What will you tell them?" The girls' mother asked carefully.

"That…" he sighed and closed his eyes. "That we lost the baby. That they will not get a sibling…"

Just when he ended the conversation his sixteen year old daughter came home along with his eleven year old. They bickered about something while taking off their jackets. They had just come home from school and didn't expect to see their dad by the dining table. The younger of the girls ran up to him and he gave her a bear hug.

"Hey, why are you here?" Asked his oldest daughter when she hugged him. They had always had a strong bond and Bill wondered if she maybe already had a feeling of what had happened.

"Sit down, please. Tell me about your day," he said and smiled but the both of them could see their dad was distracted. They sat down and his youngest started to talk but everyone in the room could feel Bill's emotions and his youngest stopped talking abruptly.

"Dad, just tell us. Is it something to do with Aurora?" Said his oldest. The younger daughter looked at her sister with worry then at her father.

"Are you getting a divorce?" The younger one said and thought about a girl in her class who had a divorce in her family recently.

"Of course not," said her older sister. "But… Is it the baby?" She asked carefully and swallowed dryly. Bill looked up at her fast and then down in his coffee cup. He didn't want them to see the tears in his eyes. To say it out loud was awful but he must do it.

"It was… Sick so we lost it," he said with a low gaze. His ex put a comforting hand on his but he pulled it away and took a deep breath. His daughters sat quietly.

"I'm sorry dad…" said his oldest but with her own tears in her throat. Bill gave her a thankful little smile and then looked at his younger daughter who sat with her face in her hands. Their mother also cried now while Bill kneeled down next to his crying daughter so she could hug him around his neck.

It was a loss for many but none of them forgot who probably felt the biggest loss.

"How is Lou?" Asked his daughter when she had let go of him.

"She's… Really sad right now and she needs to spend some time in the USA. I really want to be with you girls but… She needs me right now. She's so sad and in pain and…" he looked up at the ceiling so his tears wouldn't spill.

"It's just a couple weeks, then I will be home again," he said truthfully but didn't know if his wife would follow him.

He told his youngest an hour later when she came home from her aunt’s. She was eight and could grasp what death meant but the shock made her forget what had happened so five times he was forced to explain to her that the baby already was dead and they couldn't save it now. Maybe it was good for him too, because if he hadn't been able to accept the truth before he had explained it for himself clearly now too. There wasn't a baby.

×××

He left two days after, those two days went to be with his girls and arrange a storehouse for all the baby gifts that had been sent from fans. Aurora shouldn't see baby blankets with handmade embroideries of chubby elephants when she got home.

He had mixed feelings about going back to the USA, especially when she told him she was in Beverly Hills. She had sent a picture of herself in a pool and he hadn't really looked at her body for some time but was shocked at how fast her body had lost the pregnancy curves. She even looked thinner. He wondered again if he needed to worry.

He felt awful for lying to Aurora but he needed just some time alone. He said he would come the next day instead of the day he actually arrived at LAX and then he booked into a modest hotel. He was awful. If he was a good husband he should be with her every moment he could after this sort of thing, instead he chose to sit alone in a hotel restaurant and eat an overdone steak.

"Bill?" Said a familiar voice and he looked up when he had swallowed the chewy meat. It was Hilma. His ex. She looked like she used to, in a black outfit but with a risky deep neckline.

"Oh hey," he said, shocked and tried to sound polite and happy. He stood up to give her a hug and to his surprise Hilma sat down next to him in the booth.

"Oh it's so nice to see you! Do you still live in Stockholm? I never see you," she said and crossed her long model legs. Involuntary Bill looked down at them. He had always liked long legs.

Meanwhile, Aurora sat on the edge of the pool in the backyard of the house her mother had rented. It was a smaller house than she was used to but the pool was nice and heated. She kicked her short legs in the water and looked at the patterns she created on the surface. It was three hours ago she had texted Bill and she felt worried. She believed he was still in Sweden so it was possible he still was sleeping but something didn't feel right. She couldn't put a finger on what, it just felt like something was off, something wasn't like it should be. She looked at her phone again. She missed him. She missed him so much. He was the only one who could understand how awful the miscarriage was and what could trigger her tears and she just wanted him to be there, close, as close as she ever could ever have him.

×××

Bill looked around in the hotel room. It looked like his own but in his room the pillowcases and curtains were deep red, here they were dark blue. He sat on the couch with crossed legs and played with his lower lip while thinking. He could sense a perfume he recognized and let it fill his nostrils. It smelled really good.

Hilma came out from the bathroom and walked to the fridge and took out two beers. She smiled a little towards Bill while opening the bottles for them. Bill smiled back softly even if he felt his heart beating with anxiety. Hilma gave him a beer and sat down next to him, with her legs up on the couch he felt her toes against his thigh and he moved from sitting with crossed legs to spreading them out. It was more comfortable.

"You still haven't told me why you're here," said Hilma with a teasing voice and moved up her feet against his thigh a bit. Bill looked down at her feet and continued to be quiet. He took a big gulp of the beer in deep thought. Hilma thought he was thinking about her question so she moved closer to him. She smiled and looked at his face. Everything she loved, his uneven nose tip, the full lips, the smooth skin. He didn't look his age. They sat quietly, Bill looking between her hand on his thigh and the ceiling as she was looking at his beautiful profile and the bulge in his dark blue jeans. Bill finally took a deep breath and looked at her.

"I'm sorry I should go… But thank you for… just being there?"

She smiled and nodded a little but looked disappointed.

"Bill… Was that all?"

He had stood up and stood now by the door in his jeans and a gray zip hoodie. He gave her a weird look.

"Yeah?"

Hilma smiled, strained and crossed her arms. Bill looked down at the floor. Maybe it was weird. He should have known she wanted more while he just wanted company.

"I'm sorry but… You know Lou is my everything, I just needed a friend," he said carefully and dragged a hand over his phone in his back pocket. Hilma sighed and shook her head.

"You're the same… Just thinking about your own needs. Just go Bill. Just go," she said with a sigh and turned her eyes away from him. Bill walked out of the room without hesitation. He did feel bad, but not towards Hilma, but towards Aurora. Why did he do this? He should just go to her instead of passing the time with random people.

Aurora was everything so she was also the only answer.

×××

She was in the pool again. The doctors had told her to not bathe after the miscarriage but the bleeding had stopped and she only had some pain that felt like the third day of period cramps. It wasn't much so she felt it was safe to just play around in the pool a bit. It was just soothing and calmed her, especially now when Bill acted strange. It took ages for him to answer her messages and she got flashbacks to that time he ghosted her while they were dating. Bill was tricky sometimes because he didn't always say what he felt, not because he didn't want to say but because he didn't know himself what he really felt. Maybe he wanted a divorce now but hadn't understood it himself yet. Maybe it would just take some days for him to realize that?

Aurora floated around in the pool, dressed in a black high cut bathing suit. Her hair was still uneven to her mother's horror. She had tried to get her daughter to go to a hairdresser but she wasn't ready yet to be out in public. Hopefully she would feel better when Bill was there again.

Bill parked on the driveway to the house, it layed in a gated community similar to the one Aurora had lived in when they started to date but didn't have its own gate and was quite smaller and modest. He took off his seat belt but then froze. He didn't know why. He missed Aurora like crazy but instead other feelings took over. Guilt, hopelessness, worry. He knew he would see things more clearly if he just saw her but instead he stayed in the car and looked at his broken thumb nail. It would hurt when the broken piece fell off.

He sat deep in thoughts about his thumb nail until there was a knock on the car window. He looked up and out through the window. It was Aurora's mother who waved at him with a smile. Bill smiled back and opened the door and pretended it had been his plan from the start.

"Hey, she's on the backside, in the pool. How were your girls?" She asked kindly while playing with her handbag in a way that reminded him of Aurora.

"Ehh…" Bill sighed and closed the car door behind him. "They were sad. Of course. But I think they understood."

Melinda nodded but seemed to wait for him to say something more and with a look at her he knew what she wondered.

"All of them asked if we will try again…" he said and lowered his gaze. Melinda cleared her throat and was silent for a moment.

"I don't think she wants that… But she's much better now and maybe after some time she will want to."

Bill still stood with his eyes on the ground. He didn't really want to talk with her mother about this, not when he and Aurora hadn't even mentioned it but he also didn't believe Aurora would want to give it a try.

"I'm going to yoga and will be home in like three hours or so."

Bill nodded a little and when they had said goodbye he steered to the house because that was the only thing that wouldn't make her mother wonder, even if it was tempting to go back to the car.

He walked out to the backyard when he had left his things and drank a glass of juice. Aurora had heard him in the house and supported her head against the edge of the pool while waiting on him in expectation. Bill looked at her with wet hair and the bathing suits low back. She was so beautiful and when she smiled he couldn't understand why he hadn't just gone to her at once. His chest glowed by seeing her and he smiled back.

"Join me," she said sweetly and let go of the edge so he could look at her body.

"I don't have any bathing shorts," he said with a smirk but also with a bit of disappointment.

"You don't need any," she said teasingly and Bill laughed. His girl was back. He stood silent for a while before starting to pull off his clothes. To his liking she pulled off the bathing suit and when he finally pulled off his boxers he was half hard. Aurora gave him a suggestive look and for a while stood Bill still with his hands on his hips so she could look at him.

"Hey daddy…" she said and pushed herself up against the edge so he could see her bare chest. At that moment the nickname was just sexual and neither of them were overthinking it. Bill scooted down in front of her with a leg on each side of her so she had his erection just in front of her. She gave his tip a wet lick and Bill expressed a liking before taking a hard grip around her neck, bending down and kissed her so passionately she moaned into his mouth. When he had released her, the both of them were panting a bit before he sunk down in the water. He wasn’t in the mood for a blow job if he couldn't give anything back to Aurora. Her sex was for now a no go zone and he would rather wait for sex until the both of them could get pleasure.

Aurora laid her arms around Bill's neck and her legs went around his waist in the water while Bill held her there. It was really nice being close again, almost as close as they could.

"How are you?" Bill asked lovingly as he dragged his hands over her back. Aurora smiled a little unsure but shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay, I think. It will be a burden to bear for a long time but I am okay. How are you?" She kissed the little bump on his nose tip and Bill smiled with closed eyes.

"I think I'm okay too. But… It is hard."

Aurora nodded and looked him deep in the eyes. She waited for more. Bill took a deep shaky breath because he was always honest with Aurora and was insistent in telling her.

"I met Hilma… I actually was in L.A. yesterday and we met in a hotel…"

Aurora looked at Bill, seeing him lower his gaze and analyzed his words. It didn't sound good at all. She slowly pulled away but Bill held her hard against him.

"Not like that, not like that! By accident," he confessed when he heard his own words. "Nothing happened, I just wanted someone to talk to. I don't know… Nothing happened, I just wanted to tell you."

Aurora was still wrapped around his waist but she just looked down at her wedding rings, twisted them around her finger. She did that often when they had a fight and it always made him nervous. She nodded slowly and dragged her fingers over the diamond. Her nails really needed a touch up.

"Why don't you talk to me then?" She asked without looking up at him.

Bill licked his lips but pulled her even closer to his chest. He didn't even think about her being naked, right over his cock because he just felt worry and shame.

"I didn't talk to her either. I didn't get anything out but… I guess at the same time I didn’t dare to talk to you either?"

Aurora looked up at him, deep in his eyes. Chestnut brown meeting ocean green. They were quiet for a moment because they both knew, just by watching each other what this was about. If they would try again. Aurora lowered her gaze again, dragged a hand over her belly that now was almost as flat as before the pregnancy then she looked at her rings again. Twisted them around her finger in silence.

Their wedding had been small, at a vineyard in Italy on a sunny afternoon in early June. To many's surprise it wasn't the princess wedding they had expected from Aurora. Instead she wore a quite modest maxi dress in creme white with a golden tiara in her long wild locks. Bill wore just a white button up with beige linen pants. The only thing that was really extravagant was the food and drinks but they both felt they couldn't have it any other way. Bill thought about that day when he saw her play with her rings. He had never had high expectations about a wedding day, it was hard to get it as good as you dreamt about but it had topped it. Their friends were way too interesting to not do something amazing, great performances, a short movie in their honor and just dancing and silliness until the sun went up. When they found time to be alone they had made out like teenagers and Bill had realized she wasn’t wearing a bra nor panties. She wasn't a virginal bride even if it was what they pretended that night. His little virgin bride.

Aurora let go of her rings and smiled a little. It was obvious she didn't want to talk about it and that night Bill would have even more questions she didn't want to answer.

They had both gone to bed early to have some privacy from her mother and while Aurora was in the bathroom to get herself ready for bed Bill took her iPad. He often used it, he picked up the one that was closest to him but soon realized he was seeing things he shouldn’t have seen and quickly locked the device for a moment. At first he just thought it was regular porno, which surprised him but then he realized it was actually with the Aurora look-alike. She rode a guy and moaned loudly. Bill paused it in panic and looked towards the bathroom but when he realized Aurora hadn't heard he looked through her browser. She had watched several videos but also read about the group Derwin was a part of and gossip threads about herself. He couldn't really see why she looked at these things, especially the porn. Bill became worried again, if it was some sort of crisis but she was behaving so calmly and healthy again. Aurora had never been the one to dwell over things and didn't seem like she would do that now either in Bill's eyes. He didn't put away the iPad, instead let it lay open with the frozen picture from the porno. Aurora came out in just a crop top and panties and her now shorter hair in two low ponytails. She gave Bill a confused look who looked so serious but then she looked down at the iPad, seeing the girl who could be some morphed version of her. Aurora made a U turn when she saw it, walking into the bathroom.

"Hey, hey, hey," said Bill and ran after her. He held the door so she couldn't close it and Aurora gave him a pissed look.

"Can't I just be curious??" She said angrily.

Bill looked at her, shocked by her anger.

"Sure you can, but your anger is telling me there's something more."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "It's just a thing for Bodya."

"Bodya?"

Aurora rolled her eyes again and it irritated Bill so he sighed deeply.

"The group Derwin is in."

"Hang on… He wants you to watch porn?" Bill furrowed his brows and took a harder grip on the door. Aurora looked at her husband with a shameful look. She also heard it could sound weird, especially for a man who was her husband.

"It's about acceptance. That I should watch it and accept it."

Bill was confused but also worried. It really sounded weird and he wondered if Derwin used Aurora's miscarriage to further get her into that weird group. Bill let go of the door and laid a hand over his mouth. Aurora didn't like how worried and sad he looked and pulled on his shoulders so he could lean down and they could hug each other.

"It's just about acceptance…" she whispered and kissed Bill's neck. He nodded a little and kissed her shoulder. Aurora searched for his lips so they could kiss. It didn't take long until they were making out as passionately as they had done at their wedding party. Bill was prepared that she wouldn't want to sleep with him but it was she who took their clothes off and dragged her wet pussy over his erection.

"Fuck me," she whispered while she sat on top of him. Bill sat up with a smile and kissed her. He looked into her eyes so deeply Aurora gave him a blushing smile.

"Let me give you a baby," he whispered. Aurora smiled a little but then she giggled sweetly so Bill's cock twitched.

"Yeah, put a baby in me, daddy."

×

[imanightmarethatlookslikeadream]

THE REMAINERS ( Ghost x Fem! Reader) Part 3 - Last Talk

Summary - You were married to Lieutenant Simon Riley for almost a year. You gave birth and had a baby girl. After the birth, there was a knock on the door of your house, you thought it was Simon, but there were four Russians in front of you. You were kidnapped and the Russian mafia asked for a trade. They wanted codes for the launch missiles in exchange for your and your child's life. The trade was denied and you and your child fell into the hands of the Russian mafia. Simon didn't come to save you. What was going to happen to you and your little girl?

Disclaimer - I do not own any Modern Warfare characters.

Word Count - 1.4K

Warnings ~ Guns, harassment, kidnapping, military, psychological violence, lots of drama and tears, reader is pregnant, fluff,

Warning 2 :English is not my native language; I write them by translating. So if I make mistakes, please forgive me. I hope you like the story.

Warning 3: I named my main character "Serafina" and characterized her as a writer. But it doesn't have to suit you; you can put yourself in its place and adapt it to yourself. I just did it to keep the flow and integrity of the story.

Previous episode:

You put your hands on your 8 months pregnant belly; your little girl was quite active. You were looking at your little princess's room; you did everything yourself. You built it from the crib to the closet, and you even painted the wall where the crib is located pink. This really broke your heart. Simon should have been home by now. But he hadn't come, and he hadn't even sent word on top of it. When was the last time you spoke to him, four months ago? Five months ago? You didn't even remember that. You missed him so much, the way he wrapped his arms around you, the kisses he placed on your head, the compliments he gave you so much. You didn't know what happened to him, was he badly injured so he couldn't come home? Or is he dead? You started to tear up; no, if something had happened, Price would have told you that; you had a right to know. You looked over your shoulder with your teary eyes at the hallway and rooms of the house, Good God, the house looked as if it had been stripped of colour. It was like a black-and-white movie, but without even the white ones. Cold spirits roamed the walls. You needed to clear your head; this stress and sadness could hurt your baby. You started walking to the kitchen to get something to eat, and at that moment, the familiar melody of the phone came to your ear. You don't remember how you ran to your phone playing in the hall; you could even say you flew rather than running. That familiar number... Your heart was beating in your mouth as you picked up the phone, a million thoughts going through your mind per second.

- Simon,

+ Hey, his voice was pretty tired and exhausted.

- My love,

-.. no sound

- Simon, I beg you, talk to me.

+ I have no strength, what happened, was he injured?

- Are you hurt, my love? Tell me what's going on Simon. Your heart was squeezing,

+ I'm not injured, I'm just very tired. I .. I haven't slept in 4 days and I don't remember when I ate.

You couldn't hold back the tears and you felt a tummy ache, baby, just don't mind

- Where are you Simon,

+ away

- How far away, for God's sake, Simon

+ 1 ocean away, love. big fuck

- Please tell me you're with your team, tell me you're safe

+ yes, we are in the shelter, thank goodness,

- What about Simon, can you get out of there?

Your heart was aching and it was starting to hurt in your lower back and groin. You started having trouble standing.

+ Hey, hey, baby, we're getting out of here, okay? This is the safe zone

- you are lying, your voice is shaking.

+ I swear I'm not lying beautiful, I'm really fine and now I'm at a place to eat, but I wanted to call you first. I need your voice, I miss you so much love.

+ I missed you too, we missed you so much, simon. You no longer hide your cry. Simon could hear your sobs over the telephone.

- please don't cry, you know I can't stand it.

+ I can't stand it either, Simon. Your crying got even louder. Do you hear me Simon? I can't stand it, I need you here, less than a month into the birth and I'm not doing it alone. For eight months I did everything a baby needs, I even built that big damn crib and you know what? I waited alone in a doctor's chair for 3 hours for the results of the SMA test and I can't stand it anymore. I CAN NOT STAND.

You were crazy, in a word. It wasn't Simon's fault; he was a soldier and on duty. You had married him at the risk of all this and now you were making him feel guilty, which made you feel even worse. You just wanted to pour your heart out, you had no one to talk to all this time and you were about to go crazy. Your crying got louder and at that moment a great pain went into your stomach. Simon was freaking out on the other end of the phone when you fell to the ground screaming.

- SERAFINA... SERAFINA DO YOU HEAR ME? WHAT HAPPENED? DAMN WHAT HAPPENED? TALK TO ME DAMN TALK TO ME. Simon and the rest of the crew had taken refuge in a bunker after all the fighting in Las Almas. His ears were now sore from the sound of gunfire. He couldn't close his hands, every nerve cell in his body was frayed. He was barely holding on to himself. He couldn't even walk, he was rubbing his feet on the ground. Alejandro and Rodalfo said they would bring them food and told them to take a shower until they arrived. The rest of the team were instantly freed from their gear. All of them had major and minor injuries. So does Simon. He probably had already infected wounds on his back. But he didn't care. He should have talked to you first, home first. It's been a long time since I talked to you. Your voice was still in his ears. "We love you Simon" God. He would be a father. He was going to be the father of a little girl. His heart was burning at this thought. All this time, the only question on his mind was, "Can I be a good father? His throat burned when he dialled your number. A huge weight was lifted from his body when he heard your voice. He had gone to a very far place from the team. He didn't want anyone to hear and give him a pointed look. He just wanted to hear you. "Simon." Thank God. Simon couldn't speak, he couldn't make a sound. He missed you so much, he wanted to take you in his arms. He was very curious about your pregnancy. There was no compensation for this. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she couldn't cry. No, it's not under the mask. It was very special for Simon that you noticed his condition and worried about him. No one would worry about him. The more he talked to you, the more Simon's body relaxed and he sat down against the wall he had slumped in front of. He pulled his legs up and put his head in the middle of his knees Listen to you like this forever could eat. He could sense your voice trembling. He knew you, he knew you had tears in your eyes. And now Simon was out of breath when you started crying. “I can't stand Simon” you were crazy. Simon had nothing to say to that. She was mad at herself and should have retired the first time you told her you were pregnant. But he had gone after that mission, and now he had missed everything. And if things kept messing up like this, Simon would even miss the birth of his daughter. He couldn't allow this. He had a word for you. He would return home. Simon's heart was burning as your crying became more and more intense, and he stood up screaming when he screamed. The whole team turned to him at once, but he didn't care. Something had happened to his wife and he was not responding. In a short time, all kinds of thoughts came to Simon's mind. Did the birth start early? Or just a little gripe? Did you bleed? As the minutes passed and he didn't get a response from you, Simon was getting more and more mad. You knew his face was red under his mask, but you couldn't answer. You were bent over the floor, trying to grab onto the chair and get up, but the pain got bigger and bigger and you let out another scream. Simon had gone mad.

“Answer ,.. SERAFINA... ANSWER THIS FUCKING PHONE”. but you couldn't answer, you couldn't get up, it was hurting so much. You have never experienced this pain before. You didn't know how many minutes you were crouching under the seat, and you slowly brought the phone to your ear and called out to Simon.

-Hey,

-What happened, my love, what happened, Serafina. Simon sank slowly against the wall, tears in his eyes. If anything happened to you right now, he wouldn't be able to do anything. This fact engulfed the thorn ivy in his heart even more.

-It was pain. Just a small gripe, I think I pushed myself hard today.

-Forgive me darling.

-I love you Simon, please come back home now.

-I will be back my love, I will be back as soon as possible and we will hold our baby together. Okay?

- Promise, Simon.

-Promise darling. You will never be alone.

-We love you Simon.

Those were the last words Simon heard from you. He slowly hung up the phone and quickly went to the shower. He tore off his gear and dived under the water. Nobody around him cared. His eyes were on the ground when the water began to flow over him. The hot water touching his wounds hurt him, but it didn't matter, if there was warmer water, he would have washed with it and maybe a little bit of his sins. He looked at the water on the ground. Red filthy water was running out. Simon wanted his sins to go away like that, he wanted to return home a pure man. He slowly sank into the shower. His eyes were filled with tears again, his heart ached. How much more could he lose everything? He had lost his family. He had carried their pain for years. Then he recognized you. His shy girlfriend. He sobbed and laughed. You weren't shy when you first met, but when you came face to face with him again, your face was red with embarrassment and you forgot what to talk about with excitement. He missed every second he spent with you. Now instead of being in this shitty bathroom, he should be at home. “I even built that big damn cradle.” Simon should have done that and you should have sat and watched him. Maybe you could make him some tea for a break and give him a little kiss as you hand your glass. Simon sobbed again. “I waited alone in a doctor's chair for the results of the SMA test for 3 hours”. You didn't have the right to experience this. Simon stood up slowly but was still sobbing. He could not lose this family he had carefully built. It wouldn't happen this time. But he wasn't able to protect you yet, he couldn't do anything as you bent over at the slightest pain. With that thought in mind, Simon threw a quick punch at the shower tiles. His hand was cut off, but he didn't care. He began to watch the blood flowing. He needed to calm down. He needed to calm down, have a meeting with the team, and get out of here.

The rest of the team stared at Simon, who was talking on the phone. “Since when was that damn phone in his pocket?” Price had asked this out. The team looked at each other, but no one knew anything. “SERAFINA… SERAFINA DO YOU HEAR ME?” Serafina? It was a female name, was there someone in Simon's life? How long has it existed? Soap was slowly walking towards Simon, but Price had stopped him. He had shaken his head no. “Now is not the time.” While the team was trying to clean their own wounds, Simon still had their ears, and the last sentence they heard shocked them all, "We're going to hold our baby together. " Baby? wait.. it's a big fuck. Was Simon going to be a father? The team almost had a stroke. No one could speak properly. They had found the explanation for Simon's erratic and angry behavior. The "ghost" who could kill people with his bare hands was now becoming a father. Worry filled Price's heart. These men could not be fathers. What they saw was blood and brutality, what they heard was guns and screams. Being a father was for them a fruit they could not taste in this world. By the time Simon took a shower, Price had gathered the entire team into the common room. Simon needed some alone time.

That was the last phone call you had with Simon. He promised, he would come. But he didn't come. You waited for him for three weeks. You waited for him with your eyes at the door. You didn't turn on the music, you didn't turn on the TV so you could hear him coming. But he didn't come. You were 9 months pregnant, now you were counting the days and your doctor told you to go to the hospital. “There is no one at home to help you, Serafina, you must be here for the birth so we can intervene immediately. “Your doctor was smiling gently at you, but you could see the pity in her eyes. You agreed, you had nothing else to do. You were miles away from your family and besides, who would come to take care of you? You didn't have any friends or family here either. You only knew a few neighbors. You slowly took your hospital bag on your shoulders and walked out the door. You took one last look at your house. Faded. "Please come home, Simon," you begged. You made your way to the hospital with your tears. That's not what you dreamed of. Never.

--------------------------More coming soon----------------------