#you said to go hard on the nightmare and i delivered

[oh-snapperss]

hi for no particular reason and prompted by nothing in particular i'm begging for ethubs fluff. cmfort. occzy. cozy. pelase. please. pleas sfot. sfot comfy cozy soft please

anyway love you laurie <3 looking forward to totally NOT being carnally emotionally injured by your words in the very near future <333333333

omg hii shep. you asked me for a nightmare/comfort fic and uh. oh boy! i hope you like nightmare scenes!

this fic is based off the new half alive song, high up<3

Words: 3013

Read on AO3

CW: blood, nightmares, dead person (only in the nightmare), some unreality/disorienting scenes, general horror vibes?? i swear this is comfort in here LMAO

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

Things start out quite simple. The dark surrounds Etho. Etho waits to respawn. It’s nothing new, he must’ve been in the void between respawns a hundred, no, a million times.

As more time passes, and no respawn happens, Etho finally feels a spark of fear. The darkness of the void hasn’t ever been particularly appealing, especially since he’s been falling in it for hours. There’s no wind, no melody, no noise at all to help break the crushing feeling of the void.

Is he trapped here? Where was he before this? How long has it been? Where is Bdubs?

he is falling and alone and falling and still alone and falling and falling and–

“Wake up, wake up!”

His shoulder is being shaken, he’s not in the void, he’s… he’s lying down. There’s a quilt over the lower half of his body, twisted in such a way it’s clear either him or Bdubs has been thrashing about. There’s a snuffed out candle on the nightstand beside him, and the room is swathed in shadows and a stillness only found in the middle of the night. Chest heaving, heart pounding, it’s all he can do to keep himself from–

Bdubs.

He flips around, quilt still tangled in his legs, and comes face to face with a dead man.

Blood drips from Bdubs’ shoulder, and Etho knows the warmth on his side is more blood seeping into his shirt from the second arrow wound in Bdubs’ side. Bdubs’ grins, two teeth missing, and his black eye is… well, it’s certainly not comforting.

“Bad dream, sweetheart?” Bdubs croons, and his voice is all wrong. It’s not his Bdubs. This Bdubs has a smile too wide. “Bad dreams, when you couldn’t even keep me alive? When you were too selfish to care?”

This Bdubs reaches a hand towards Etho, caressing his cheek with a gentleness Etho is certain he shouldn’t possess. But then Etho feels a stickiness against his cheek, and registers the warmth of blood on his face. Etho scrambles backwards, unable to help the gut reaction of panic and disgust and get that off NOW! He falls off the bed, trapped between the bed and the wall. Grasping at nothing, he tries to fly to his feet to run, but the quilt is still twisted around his legs. It holds him there, a sitting duck and keeping him from getting OUT-

He pulls upward with the nightstand, and…

The blanket is gone, along with the bed. He’s in the woods. There’s a splish-splash of running water nearby, and Etho heaves a sigh of relief at the thought of washing the blood off his face. The moon overhead is full, casting the jungle with more light than most nights.

Etho moves towards the water, although as he draws near, he realizes it’s flowing a lot slower than any creek he’s ever seen. Kneeling down, twigs pressing into his shins uncomfortably, he reaches down towards the dark liquid, mesmerized at the red color. Somewhere in his mind, a warning bell sounds. Is water red?

Something is wrong.

“Etho?”

“No, no, no, no-” It takes less than a second to turn around, stumble backwards, away from his husband, away from the stench that can only come from a decomposing body. Bdubs limps forward, and the leaves around him turn red from the blood still dripping from the three arrows embedded in his body.

“You could have stopped this, cutie,” Bdubs smiles again, and Etho wants to throw up at how disgustingly un-Bdubs his expression is.

Etho keeps scooting backwards, unable to tear his eyes away from his lover, from… the thing his lover has become.

“Urgh!” Etho yelps as his hand dips into the creek. It’s not cold or refreshing, it’s warm, and as he throws himself further back from Bdubs, his other hand gets covered too. When he stands, breaking into a sprint, a cursory glance downward almost makes him scream. His hands are covered in blood.

“Wait for me, don’t leave me again.”

God, he doesn’t want to, he wants to turn around and be brave, but there’s no saving Bdubs in his state, and–

And Etho is a coward.

And it’s Etho’s fault.

When he trips on the vines he’s hardly surprised. The jungle always did seem sinister (was he in a jungle before?), and as they wrap around his legs, forcing him down to the ground, holding him still, tightening around his waist… it's all he can do to keep struggling. He pulls and pulls at the vines, but they wrap around his hands too, forcing him still to face… face his own…

“Don’t run away, my dear!”

Etho snaps his gaze up from the vines now reaching his waist, and there he is. There’s more blood on Bdubs now.

“‘Dubs… I tried to save–” Etho begins to plead, but Not-Bdubs cuts him off with a snarl, and lunges forward, hands outstretched and–

And…

The vines release him, and it’s… he’s not in the jungle anymore.

It’s still night, but he’s in the shopping district now. The place feels silent, but Etho knows it must be late. Huh. Maybe he should go home? Etho’s never been one to fall asleep randomly, but… he must have been out just slightly too late and exhausted himself. Man, he’s not even sure what project he was working on today.

Okay, bed time.

Etho reaches for his rockets, and then realizes he doesn’t have any. That’s odd.

Wait, hang on… this is the wrong season. He’s in the Big-Eyes shopping district, and… and the ground is shaking.

Glancing up at the sky, Etho realizes.

It’s the end of the world.

Chunks of grass fly into the air, followed by rocks and bits of builds. Etho’s pretty sure there’s a flying pig. The ground shakes, and it takes a second for him to regain his balance. He grabs onto the nearest wood pole to keep himself from tripping over, then clutches it for dear life when he feels himself float upwards towards the ginormous moon in the sky.

There’s fires breaking out, and Etho can hear the distant screams of villagers and animals as meteorites crush them before the moon itself can. One of the shops nearby breaks into pieces, and his arm is grazed by a flying bit of wood. Etho winces as his feet hit the ground with more weight than needed, but then he’s tearing down the steps and toward the water. He’s gotta get out of here.

BOOM. Etho stops short at the wave bearing down on him from whatever just hit the sea, and just manages to avoid being soaked through and crushed by it.

Was the water… was it red? Why was the water red? Why is he even here? Hadn’t Bdubs been the only one left when–

“Bdubs!” gasps Etho, and this time he hears it.

Beyond the screaming, the spray of water, the sound of the literal apocalypse, there’s a jukebox playing.

This time, Etho doesn’t run.

The familiar tune guides him, feet carrying him to the place he’s only ever been told of. Bdubs had told him what happened, once, with tears on his face and fear in his eyes. He stayed because Etho had promised he would be there.

His feet move on their own. Etho knows where Bdubs was at the end, and as his feet carry him around the final corner, he’s proven right.

His husband stands alone, facing away from Etho and towards the moon. The jukebox is beside him, and… and Bdubs flinches when a rock hits the ground at his feet.

There are three arrows sticking out of him still. All of them are in his back, and the blood dripping down from his body makes a grotesque pool at his feet. Something keeps Etho from stepping any closer, and yet he can’t make himself flee.

“He promised he would come,” mutters Bdubs, and his fingers turn white where they clench the moss cloak Etho has come to associate him with.

I’m here, Etho wants to scream, I wanted to save you, I would have come–

“No you wouldn’t. And you didn’t.” Bdubs turns to face him with soulless eyes and an expression devoid of life. “You weren’t here, you didn’t care, don’t lie to me.”

Etho sinks to his knees, because Bdubs is right that he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there and Bdubs was alone and died and it’s all his own fault, it’s Etho’s fault, and–

“Go on and run,” Bdubs commands, and there’s something in his unforgiving and emotionless tone that sets Etho free. “Go and be selfish, go home, Etho.”

Etho glares up at the sky, in time to see the moon fill the entire sky.

It doesn’t crush him, but he’s helpless when it crushes Bdubs, burying him under rock and rubble and broken promises.

“Etho? Etho!”

The sound of screaming fills the air, and Etho thrashes to get away, get away from it, run–

(There’s a snuffed out candle on the bedside table. The room is cast in shadows not unlike before.)

“Etho, hey now-” A familiar voice comforts him (comfort? No, that can’t be right), and a hand lands on his shoulder. Etho can only move backwards get AWAY–

He wheezes, unable to catch his breath. “No, please, no–”

It’s his fault it’s his fault Bdubs died and it’s all his fault he could have saved Bdubs but he was too selfish.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine, what’s wrong?” Bdubs stares at him with far more concern than Etho deserves. The screaming has stopped, and Etho realizes belatedly it was his own cries.

It’s then he realizes that this Bdubs isn’t covered in blood, and is real, although Etho’s legs are tangled in their quilt just like before. He kicks away the quilt, sending it tumbling over the foot of their bed with too much force.

Bdubs is in front of him, breathing and alive. His lip is trembling slightly, and there’s no sign of the arrows or black eye… and it’s not–

“Moon big?” Etho croaks, and Bdubs eyes widen. His arms circle himself, tugging at his sleeves. It’s a nervous habit Bdubs picked up at some point when Etho wasn’t around, and already Etho wants to kick himself, he knows better than to–

“No… moon is small tonight,” Bdubs confirms, as though to reassure himself. Etho sags in relief, before stiffening again. He’s got no right to feel fear at the moon when it was Bdubs who died by it.

“You gonna tell me what–” Bdubs gestures at him, “--all this is about?”

Bdubs is right, Etho’s in a state. Between his haggard breathing, shivering violently against the cool breeze coming from the window, and general panic, it’s obvious Etho isn’t ok.

He doesn’t have a right to comfort though, does he? Not when he left Bdubs, he let him die not once but multiple times, he broke his promises and Bdubs suffered for it.

“...’m fine,” Etho chokes out, and he forces back the tears still growing at the edge of his eyes.

“You’re lying,” Bdubs says, frowning at him. Etho wants to rip his hand away when Bdubs takes it between both of his, gently massaging it. “What’s goin’ on?”

But he can’t, he can’t speak, he should be comforting Bdubs, hell, he shouldn’t even be in their bed after the way he’s betrayed Bdubs, he doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

A strangled noise makes its way out of his throat, and as much as Etho wants to be held, he pulls away.

He ignores the hurt in Bdubs’ eyes. He deserves to hold someone better.

And yet, Bdubs just sits there, legs crossed on the bed and waiting. He lets Etho breathe for a few more minutes, hands still hovering where Etho pulled away.

“Etho…” Bdubs tries again. “You know… you can tell me anything?” He reaches forward again, wrapping his hands around both of Etho’s hands. Etho is too weak to pull away. He wants to be held, he wants it so badly and he’s so selfish for it.

“You’re still cryin’, sweetheart,” Bdubs squeezes Etho’s right hand, then drops it to move his hand to Etho’s face. He wipes at Etho’s cheek, wiping away the tears that Etho hadn’t realized were still rolling down his face. “Whatever happened, better to talk about it, don’t ya think?”

“I shouldn’t,” Etho whispers, and he knows he’s right. His chest aches and aches, and it’s deserved. His own to bear.

“Why not? I wanna hear,” Bdubs blinks at him, and the corners of his lips turn upward into a mimicry of a smile. “You know I love you?”

“But you shouldn’t!” Etho bursts out, startling Bdubs into lurching slightly backwards. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to–” he cuts himself off with a groan and a hiccuping sob.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Bdubs recovers quickly, and moves his hand back down to hold Etho’s and thumb over his palm gently. “What in the world are you talkin’ about, me not supposed to love you?”

Etho clamps his mouth shut, determined not to make himself seem like the one deserving comfort. Minutes and more minutes pass, and Bdubs hums the same tune that played in Etho’s nightmare. Etho recognizes it now for what it is–it’s their song, he’s heard it a thousand times and danced to it with Bdubs almost as many. Soft, comforting notes that typically help Etho relax and feel safe-–this time it does little to calm Etho. But then Bdubs traces letters into Etho’s hands, declaring love over and over into his palms, and Etho can’t help but shift forward slightly. It does not help him keep his resolve to stay silent.

Bdubs’ hums trail off into silence, and Etho finally speaks.

“I… I’m so sorry.”

He can tell Bdubs is looking inquisitively, but he won’t look at Bdubs’ eyes now (just in case he finds them to be as soulless as in his nightmare).

“I should’ve saved you… I could have, I could have given you that life… there was no reason not to and–” Etho chokes on his own words for a moment before continuing. “I left you and betrayed you and–”

Bdubs is already shaking his head in denial, and squeezes Etho’s hands in reassurance. Etho keep going.

“And… and I left you alone on season eight, and you were alone and waited for me and I was just off doing nothing useful on my own world because I’m selfish and I didn’t wanna face you after I caused your death, and… and then you died again and it was my fault!” Etho tries to pull his hands away, but Bdubs’ grip is too strong.

“You shouldn’t love me, Bdubs,” Etho chuckles humorously, but sounds more like a sob. “You deserve someone who isn’t selfish and a betrayer and a killer.” Your killer, something whispers into Etho’s mind, and he can’t argue with it.

The death grip Bdubs has on his hands loosens.

That’s it, then, and Etho moves to leave their bed, but then…

“You’re stupid if you think that,” Bdubs’ voice is steady, and before Etho can back away, Bdubs reaches forward one more time, arms outstretched. “Etho, look at me.”

He doesn’t. He can’t. How could he look into the eyes of someone he’s practically been the death of? What if Bdubs’ eyes are dead and empty, and–

“Etho… please look at me,” Bdubs repeats, and Etho catches the tinge of hurt in his voice this time.

He can’t hurt Bdubs anymore.

Achingly slow, Etho raises his head to finally look his Bdubs in the eyes. He’s expecting them to be empty, uncaring, and probably full of deserved hatred.

Instead, he’s met with the same warmth Bdubs has always reserved for him, the same adoration Etho first recognized back on another world. Big brown eyes gaze at him, filled with more love than Etho has ever deserved.

“You’re stupid if you think that I’m just gonna stop lovin’ you,” Bdubs smiles, slightly watery, and Etho feels the same ecstatic rush he always does when Bdubs’ looks at him.

He shouldn’t, oh, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t deserve it at all.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Bdubs nods encouragingly. “Let me love you, please.”

That’s what makes Etho break, makes him lurch forward into Bdubs’ waiting arms. It’s not the first time he’s had a nightmare, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. It’s not a perfect hug, but he curls his fingers into Bdubs’ shirt, falling into his arms desperately. Bdubs tilts Etho’s head up, and Etho feels like he’s flying in the sky with the way Bdubs looks at him so utterly filled with love. There’s no hatred to be found, and Etho knows despite his imperfections and selfishness and mistakes, Bdubs still loves him.

Bdubs shifts so that one of his hands can rest in Etho’s hair, and he runs his hand through it, detangling the strands from where it’s become knots and a mess. Once he’s done, Etho can feel him playing with a part of it, forming the tiniest braid at the nape of his neck.

It’s been a long time since Bdubs has done that. Etho knows Bdubs should have a braid of his own, around the back of his head. It’s a promise, and Etho knows that this time he’ll keep it.

He’s high up, higher than his imperfections, and it hurts to know the love Bdubs has for him. It consumes him, he doesn’t deserve it, and yet–

Etho thinks he can learn to live with it, and he lets Bdubs love him, lets Bdubs press his lips against Etho’s in reassurance.

but when you look at me i’m lifted high up

higher than my rain clouds

sitting on the mountain now i’m high up

never wanna come down

when you look at me i’m lifted

…

you saw me cowered in the corner

& offered me a second chance

now every night i wrestle Love

didn’t know that it could hurt this much

[onewingeddove444]

★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry

word count: 1.1k

Alex:

-would probably not even notice you're crying at first

-his expression would change so quickly

-😀😦

-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇

-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))

-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol

-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"

-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying

-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again

Elliott:

-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer

-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."

-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭

-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear

-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision

-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad

-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him

-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))

-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book

Harvey:

-man....😭

-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao

-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu

-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore

-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions

-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️

-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))

-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁

-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week

-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))

Sam:

-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him

-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“

-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it

-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(

-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"

-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up

-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))

-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube

-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))

-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))

Sebastian:

-freezes immediately

-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭

-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that

-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more

-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself

-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))

-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything

-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching

-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏

-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating

Shane:

-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️

-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc

-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)

-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that

-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭

-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"

-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again

-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again

-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)

-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader ft. Hongjoong TW : angst ; childbirth ; reader has to have a c-section ; very traumatic labor experience ; Chan turning point moment ; fluffy at the end ; Word Count : 4.9k Request : I'm sure that in my 98 requests there are some regarding this so I'm gonna say yes, it is a request A/N : Back on that good shit, HELLO!!!

It had been four months since you left, riding off into the sunset with Hongjoong, at least that’s the way that Chan looked at it. In reality, you sat in the passenger seat crying your eyes out in the parking lot of the McDonalds while Hongjoong worked tirelessly to console you to no avail. 

Four months since the last time you had even heard from Chan, too busy with work still to even realize what he had lost… At least that’s the way you looked at it. Back at home, he couldn’t even get his brain to focus on anything but you, the words you had said before he had pushed you away. Work always came first in his life, it had always been that way, but you had needed his attention too, more then than ever before. He had screwed up, and now he was too scared, too ashamed to even try to get in touch with you. The fear that you had finally moved on to someone who would treat you and the baby better, it ate away at him like a parasite and it was killing him to not know how you were doing, but he felt that he deserved it. 

Even Hongjoong, who felt that his acts of kindness were purely innocent, was filled with a sense of guilt, feeling like he was the reason for what was going on right now. No matter how much you told him that he wasn’t to blame, that you would never blame him for it, he couldn’t let himself get rid of the shame. It turned into you consoling him for the better part of two months, and when it seemed like he was finally getting better and coming to terms with that fact that this wasn’t his fault, he would run into Chan somewhere and those feelings would come rushing back full force. 

All in all, the last four months have been absolute hell for everyone involved, but no one really talked to one another anymore, so that only worsened the feelings that everyone had. You were lonely, trying to get through the remainder of your pregnancy without thinking too hard about the fact that you’d be a single mother basically, that the father of the little girl that you were carrying had angrily kicked you out and wouldn’t even call to check up on you. Chan was depressed, not knowing anything that was going on with his daughter, not even knowing if you had delivered the baby yet, not knowing how you were doing, and being away from the love of his life and the mother of his child was essentially destroying him. Even those that weren’t directly involved in what was going on, they were being affected too. Members of both groups had to deal with the negative moods of both men and no one knew what to do. 

It seemed like the four months would never end, each passing day felt more like deja vu, waking up and reliving those moments over and over again, wondering what could have been done differently, what could have been said to try to change the outcome. It was a never ending nightmare it felt, but no one could have guessed how bad the nightmare would get. 

You flipped the page on the calendar, the small box that read “due date” with little pink balloons surrounding it was fastly approaching now. For the first time, it felt like a new day, like you could finally breathe even though your daughter felt like she was kicking at your lungs constantly, you could take a deep breath. You were beginning to feel like maybe, just maybe, with the birth of your daughter, you’d be able to leave the door to your past behind you and start a new journey in life, a new chapter. 

“How are you feeling today?” Hongjoong asked, meeting you in the kitchen with the world's best/worst case of bedhead. You felt awful that he had demoted himself to sleeping on the living room couch just so you could comfortably sleep in his bed, but he had insisted, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Is she ready to come out yet?” He smiled tiredly at your stomach which felt like it was about to burst any minute now, but your daughter had no plan on leaving yet. 

“I’m feeling good… It’s a good day today.” You murmured, giving him a genuine smile, something that you hadn’t done in a while. The sight of it had Hongjoongs eyes lighting up, and you were hoping that maybe he was feeling the same way. “She definitely isn’t ready though. I think she’s actually comfortable being all cramped up in here.” You joked, running your hand over your stomach, and you felt your daughter move beneath your skin, just slightly, but enough for it to feel like she was agreeing with you. 

“What if you’re overdue? What if she never leaves?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes at the questions. There was no way in hell that you’d let that happen. As much as you loved being pregnant with your daughter, your back and your legs were killing you, your stomach was covered in stretch marks that only seemed to be getting bigger and darker every single day, and you’d love to be able to go at least an hour and a half without having to run to the bathroom. 

“Don’t jinx me.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair before turning to the fridge and grabbing a drink. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I cannot wait to get my period again.” As if on queue, and maybe even being slightly insulted by your words, your daughter kicked quite hard, hard enough that it had you choking on and coughing out the water that you had just taken a sip of. 

“She mad at you.” Hongjoong continued to tease all while rubbing your back and intermittently asking you if you were okay, to which you nodded your head and told him you were. And it was the truth, you were okay. It seemed like forever since you were able to just be okay with everything that happened. Maybe it wasn’t that you were actually okay with it, more like you had just come to terms with the fact that you’d probably never hear from Chan again, that he’d never want anything to do with you. It hurt more than anything to come to that realization, to really let it settle in that the two of you were no more, but you also knew that holding onto a false sense of hope for that relationship to come back would only cause more damage to yourself emotionally. 

“You wanna go out for lunch or something?” You asked once you had finally got the air back into your lungs and the tears wiped from your eyes. The last time you had gone out for lunch with Hongjoong was when you were still living with Chan. It had been guilt keeping the both of you from doing something like that again, but you were turning over a new leaf, it was time for you to live your life and let go of the anchor that was holding you back, keeping you emotionally docked to a man that clearly didn’t want anything to do with you or his child. 

Hongjoongs eyes widened for only a second before he nodded his head. Maybe he was beginning to feel the same way. To him, it was clear that Chan wasn’t coming back, and the guilt that had previously kept him from doing anything even remotely close to the likes of dating was beginning to fade away. “Of course, anything you want.” He said, a smile creeping up onto his face as he said it. This was normal, or at least the new normal for you, and maybe in the process there would come new love along with the new life that you were bringing into the world. You could only hope that that was the case. 

“And then Wooyoung and San-” Hongjoong was continuing his story from across the table when you felt it. The sharp pain that you knew wasn’t a kick or a punch from your little girl. It had you momentarily blacking out and seeing stars as a sharp gasp replaced the scream that threatened to pour from your lips. “Y/N?” Your name rushed out of Hongjoongs mouth as he got up from his chair, so fast that it tipped back, but he was by your side before it had even hit the floor. 

The wetness that pooled between your legs was sign enough that not only was your body, but she was ready to come out. “Hospital…” You breathlessly said the word, your eyes prickling with tears as you looked up at Hongjoong, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises that you had learned in the lamaze class that he went to with you. It was harder than you thought when so much seemed to be happening at once, you could barely even focus on your breathing, let alone the breathing that someone else had taught you to do. 

“Right… Yeah… Of course… Oh shit.” Hongjoong stammered out the words, looking around the small restaurant in a state of panic, as if one of the unfortunate people who were now watching you would know what to do. It didn’t take long for a couple other women to come over and try to help you, some of them were on their phones already asking for an ambulance. “Thank you…” Hongjoong whispered to the women, thankful that he could now turn his attention solely back to you while you both waited for the ambulance. 

By the time the ambulance did come, there were so many people surrounding you and Hongjoong, trying to comfort you, console you, calm you, literally anything as the pains got worse and worse. Contractions, as you were told, were painful, and the only thing you could really do was try to breathe through them until they stopped. The only problem was that they came so frequently that you didn’t have time to catch your breath before another one had you doubling over and gripping onto Hongjoongs hand even tighter. 

It wasn’t just the contractions though, there was something else, something that you couldn’t even fully understand, but you just knew… Something was wrong. You could feel it, or moreso, you couldn’t feel anything. You thought that with the amount of contractions and everything that was going on that your daughter would be moving around just as frantically as everyone else in the room right now, but you couldn’t feel anything. “Please… hurry… There’s something wrong… Please…” Was all you managed to say to the paramedics as they helped get you out of your chair and onto a gurney. 

“Everything is alright.” One of the paramedics said, but they didn’t know, they weren’t you, they weren’t going through this right now. You hated how they tried to make everything seem okay when it wasn’t. You weren’t stupid, and you knew your body better than anyone else. There was something wrong, and they needed to get you to the hospital as fast as possible instead of trying to fill your head with false hope. “We’ll be there soon, just keep breathing.” As if you had any other choice… It was all you could do. Just breathe until you get to the hospital, and hope and pray that your feeling was wrong. 

The baby is in distress. We have to get her out quickly. Set up the room. Get her ready. 

Hongjoong stood off to the side watching as doctors and nurses circled around you like vultures. He couldn’t watch as they poked you and prodded at you like some kind of lab experiment, and the only thing he felt was anxiety at the pure chaos that seemed to be unfolding around him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears and while he wanted to stand next to you and be there for you and hold your hand, every time he even got remotely close he’d be pushed back and replaced by another doctor that needed to check you over. 

“Call him…” You said loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, and while the doctors didn’t even pause to let you talk to him, he had heard you through the noise and the commotion. He knew what you meant, and he knew exactly who you were talking about. He wasn’t sure why you’d want him to be there, unless you truly thought that something bad was going to happen to yourself, the baby, or the both of you, but he knew that, out of respect for Chan, he had to do it. 

He nodded slowly, hesitant to step out of the room, but he knew that there wasn’t much that he could really do from inside the room either, and it’s not like he could make a phone call with all the noise, so he silently slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. Would Chan even answer his phone? Even if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d be alone, and if something horrible did happen, that would be something that Chan would have to live with for the rest of his life. 

The ringing lasted for a good bit, or maybe it was just the fact that time didn’t seem relative in this situation and a second seemed to last for an hour for Hongjoong, but when the ringing finally came to a stop and he heard a soft sigh through the speaker on his phone, he knew that Chan had finally picked up. “Y/N is in labor… She wanted me to call you. It’s not… going well… She wants you here.” 

It was vague, but it got the point across. To be honest, Hongjoong didn’t have the slightest idea of what was truly going on back in the room, he heard the words, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them, they made no sense to him. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Chan shakily asked, and while everything around Hongjoong seemed to be moving in slow motion, the sounds coming through his phone made it seem like Chan was in a world in double speed. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know anything. She just wants you here. She wanted me to call you. She’s scared, I’m scared… I’m sorry, hyung.” He whimpered, tear drops spilling over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks. “Please come fast… I think they’re moving her…” They were both crying, that much was obvious, the sound of choked off sobs only slightly muffled by the car engine that rumbled through the speaker. 

This felt a great deal like karma, although neither of the guys knew who it was coming after. Was it Hongjoong for unintentionally stealing away the family of another man, or was it Chan for being so oblivious to the blessings that he had been given that he let them be taken from him? Why would it go after you though? You and the innocent baby that didn’t know anything about what was going on around her? None of it made sense. 

Silence filled the call, neither men speaking, but soon that silence was interrupted by the door being pulled open and the commotion that Hongjoong had temporarily removed himself from now flooded into the hallway. “These are your scrubs, follow us.” A doctor hurriedly handed Hongjoong the blue suit and then turned their attention back to the hospital bed that was being wheeled out of the room. Nurses followed behind, carrying the IV bag that you were still attached to, but now there was an oxygen mask over your face, although it wasn’t connected to anything, not yet at least. “There isn’t much time, hurry.” The doctor said, looking back at Hongjoong who was in a state of shock seeing you like this. 

“What’s going on? I’m almost there… Hongjoong?” Chan finally spoke up, but there was nothing that Hongjoong could say. He still didn’t know what was going on, but now it felt like he was on limited time, and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the phone with Chan when he could be spending this time with you, or beside you… He should be there for you, and maybe Chan knew this, or maybe he just didn’t want you to go through this alone. “Go… I’ll get there soon… Don’t leave her…” 

Sitting in the waiting room was Chan who had run through the hospital doors like a bat out of hell, pushing through people just to get to the front desk only to be told that he couldn’t even go back and see you. He was left with so many questions and no answers, fears that clouded his mind and made the sound of the television right above his head seem like nothing more than a low drone that was everything but calming. 

There was no comfort found in the pristine white walls or the nose burning bleach smell from the overly sanitized floors. There was no solace felt when looking at the scenic paintings that hung along the walls. There was only a sense of looming dread that hung over him. To lose everything before he had even gotten it, to not even have had the chance to enjoy the time with you and his unborn daughter because he had so carelessly given it away just to chase his career.

“Sir…” Pulled from his thoughts by the low, almost mousy voice of the receptionist, he finally looked up at her. “You can go back now.” Was this a light at the end of the tunnel, or was it just the high beams of a car racing through only meant to give him some sense of false hope before he was crashed into? 

Every step was slow, giving him time to prepare himself for whatever it was that he’d walk in on. Would you be okay or had he lost you? Had he lost his daughter? Were you both gone? Was he only allowed to come in just to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be sick? To be led into a room where everything that he truly loved lay lifeless and cold… He wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wasn’t even able to handle the thought of that. 

Hongjoong stood outside a door, his hair disheveled and his eyes reddened from crying. His cheeks and his nose looked raw, and his lips were chapped… But he was smiling. There was no sadness in his eyes, he wasn’t wearing the look of someone that he just witnessed something so horrifyingly devastating that Chan couldn’t even think of it. “They’re sleeping…” Hongjoong whispered, letting out an exasperated chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair for presumably the thousandth time today. “But they’re okay… They’re okay.” He repeated the words as if he himself needed the reassurance. 

“Wh-... What happened?” Chan stammered, still left with a whirlwind of questions, but did it even matter what had happened? As long as you and his daughter were alright, that’s all that was important to him. “Is the baby in there? Can I see her?” Hongjoong shook his head no, and for a moment Chan thought that he was saying that he couldn’t see his daughter, but Hongjoong quickly motioned down the hall with his head. 

“They have her in the nursery right now… They still want to check her over, make sure that there’s no issues. I… I wish I could tell you what all happened but… I couldn’t even ask questions and… I was so scared. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t make it in time to see it… I never want to see something like that ever again…” Hongjoong rambled, his head shaking so fast like he was trying to rid his mind of whatever images now plagued it. How bad had it been? 

“Can I go in the room?” Chan asked, and Hongjoong paused, looking between Chan and the door before nodding his head. “Thank you… Thank you for taking care of her, and being there for her… And giving her everything that I failed to give.” Chan murmured, his hand freezing on the doorknob, eyes welling up with tears as he dropped his head. “You’re a better man than I am… And she deserves better… So does my daughter…” 

He didn’t give Hongjoong time to respond, he wanted to get in the room and see you, make sure you were okay, and then go see his daughter to make sure she was okay as well before heading back home. He didn’t intend on staying, not because he didn’t want to, but he was sure that you wouldn’t truly want him around now that the nightmare was over. He had hurt you and pushed you away, he didn’t even feel like he should be there. 

“Hey…” Your voice was soft, not intentionally, but you were groggy and tired, as he expected you to be after going through this. “You finally made it… Took long enough.” You scoffed, and Chan could only sigh. If only you knew the amount of accidents that he had dodged, the amount of tears he had shed just to get here, just to wait for the clearance to come into the room and see you. He would have argued it, but he found no point in fighting against you, not right now. “Did you get to see her yet?” You asked, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as his top teeth sank down into his bottom lip. “Did I interrupt your work?” 

Were you truly questioning it or was it just a jab at the fact that he had chosen work over you and the baby in the beginning? He wasn’t sure considering your voice didn’t really give way to any emotion other than exhaustion. “No… You didn’t interrupt anything. I was at home.” He said softly, and it felt like he was walking on a thin layer of ice. Any wrong move and he’d fall through. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.” 

“You’re a busy person… I understand that you can’t make it.” You said as nonchalantly as ever, as if you were just talking about the weather. “You should go see her before you have to go again. I’m not sure when your schedule will free up so… If you want me to send pictures of her to you I will…” You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes gazing far off into the distance, out the window of your little room. Was it because you’d get sad if you looked at him? Or would you just get really angry? How was it so easy for Hongjoong to juggle both his work and his life? Why was it so hard for Chan to do the same thing? Did he even have a chance to try to prove to you that he was sorry or had Hongjoong already made his way into the space in your heart that Chan thought was reserved for him? 

“I never stopped thinking about you… About the baby… I never stopped thinking about how much of an idiot I was for leaving you… For letting you leave.” Chan began, and he saw your tongue push against the inside of your cheek, something that you did when you were thinking just a little bit too hard. What were you thinking about? “And I know that right now isn’t the best time to be coming to you and telling you this. I should have come to you the day after you left… I shouldn’t have even let you walk out that door. But I love you, and I love our baby… And that dream that we created together… I still want that with you. I want to be with you, I want to have a family with you… I want so much for you to just be home again.” He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to hide the fact that he was getting teared up. “I want our home to be the home that you bring our daughter to when you both get discharged… But I know that I’m too late…” 

For the first time since he had walked into the room, you looked at him. Your head turned slowly to let your eyes, filled with confusion, fall upon him. “What do you mean you’re too late? I’m not dead, Chan. I had a c-section… and while it still feels sore and I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch later… I’m still alive.” You said it as if that were the only thing he should be worried about, but he knew that Hongjoong was just outside the door, and maybe you were just trying to play dumb to protect Chans feelings, although he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like that considering the hell that he put you through. 

“I know that you and Hongjoong are together… You don’t have to hide it or pretend…” Chan mumbled, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before letting out a loud, heavy sigh. “He’s better for you anyway. He was always there for you… He was there for the baby before she was even born… There’s no way that I can compete with him. I understand that he took my place… But I do love you, and… if it’s okay with him… I would like to still be in her life… I want to watch her… grow up… I want to be there for birthdays and holidays and-” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” You cut him off with the question, your eyebrows arched and your face had shock written across it. “Hongjoong and I aren’t together. Holy shit, Chan.” You let out a scoff that sounded more like you were trying to hold in your laughter. “Is that why you didn’t try to get in touch with me? Because you thought that he and I were… together?” You quizzed, and Chan mumbled out a sheepish yes in response. “So you’re telling me… We could have been together… through the better half of the last portion of my pregnancy… But we weren’t because you thought I started dating Hongjoong?” 

Chans hands flew to his face and his head fell back as he let out a loud groan. “Yes. Yes! I was stupid! I let my assumptions get the best of me and I missed out on the birth of my daughter because of that. Is that what you want to hear? I’m stupid!” His head shook before he let it drop down, his eyes lingering on the lines between the floor tiles. “Why didn’t you message me though? What was keeping you from reaching out… Not that it was your job to, considering what had happened… but… If you missed me and wanted me there for all of that… Why didn’t you text me or call me?” 

Now it was you who grew quiet, your hand that was free of the IV running through your hair as your eyes bore into him, and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel the heat of your gaze from across the room. “Because you told me to leave… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was devastated that you just let me walk out, and it made me feel like you wouldn’t care if I tried to get in contact with you anyway. I was pregnant, and I never felt so alone in my life, even with Hongjoong there to help me. All I wanted was you. But I was scared that you’d tell me to leave you alone and… I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection, not from you.” 

His heart sank at the revelation of how you truly felt, and he couldn’t believe how far it was from the truth. He still had one more question though, one that seemed to be burning brighter now that he knew how you felt. “Why did you call me today? Not that I’m mad about it but… what made you want to see me now?” 

The sudden sound of you sniffling filled the room, and you fumbled with the edge of your blankets as you took a few shaky breaths. “Because… I thought something was wrong… That something would go wrong and… Even if you hated me, I needed you here. I was scared that I would die… That she… You know… And I just needed you.” Your voice broke at the end and the sniffles turned to full sobs as your head dropped and your hair curtained your face. 

He ran over to your bedside, grabbing your hand, for the moment completely forgetting that he hadn’t been around at all, the only thing he wanted now was to be there for you, to show you that he loved you. “I’m here now… You’re okay, she’s okay… I don’t want you to think of those things anymore… okay?” He whispered, petting his fingers over your hair and tucking it behind your ears before tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through… But I want to be here now, if you’ll give me that chance. Just one more chance… Please…” 

Perm Tags :

@whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin

@his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67

@randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix

@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @karlitaburrito @laylasbunbunny @chimicurri-a

People who asked to be tagged in this fic specifically :

@chanssmiles @hanschimpmunk @zerefdragn33l @aloverga @minciel93 @aeikly @possumy @clausatur @pinkies-things @vickyyoon @jaquisos

[katiexpunk]

Nightmare Before Christmas | Pairing dark!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

This story is a gift fic for @xdaddysprincessxx as part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. You wanted dark and I hope I delivered. Merry Christmas, babe.

Summary: As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.   Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~3.6K Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Tommy and Joel are not nice guys in this one. Escorting. Non-Con. Guns. Knives. Kidnapping. Spitting. Ropes. Chloroform. Alcohol. Degrading pet names. Joel calls reader kitten. Reader jumps out of moving vehicle. Blood. Rope burns. Unwanted creampie. Conflict on pleasure. Fingering. Explicit/rough penetration. Breeding kink. No major physical descriptions of reader/graphic is for visual purposes only. No specific age gap mentioned. No use of Y/N. No happy ending. Authors Note: Special thank you to @kewwrites for lending me her brain on this one. Additionally, thank you to @toxicanonymity for writing dark content that I had to binge-read to put me in the headspace to even write this lol. And thank you @sydneyinacoma for holding my hand as I wrote this one. Also submitting this as part of @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event. Merry Christmas? Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications Extra dark smut below the cut.

As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. 

Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  

Most of the time. 

Tonight is not one of those times. 

++++

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re in the bathroom of your sleek apartment on the twenty-fifth floor in the heart of Los Angeles, preparing for another evening of playing the part of whatever and whoever your client wants you to be. 

Sometimes you’re the arm candy, sometimes the new girlfriend, and sometimes you’re just something to look at. It wasn’t always easy, not at first, but the rewards are well worth the endure.

You slept with a handful of your clients early on, only because you needed the money, but now it’s your hard line. You ensure your prospective clients know your rules before you agree to go out with them, and for the most part, they don’t try to cross them. Sure, some try, but all it takes is a quick threat of I’m leaving and they’re happy to fall back in line. You think half of them are convinced that they’re charming enough to make you break the rules, just for them, but none of them ever are. 

You stand before the mirror in a chic ensemble that accentuates your curves without revealing too much. Wear something black and don’t make it trashy, his instructions said. You run your fingers through your hair and give it a final touch before fastening a pair of statement earrings that sparkle like the lights on your Christmas tree. 

The gentle chime of your phone signals a new message. You pick it up, the screen illuminating your face with a soft glow. Your client for the evening, a successful entrepreneur named Tommy, confirms the details for the evening and informs you that a car will meet you at the agreed-upon location at 8:00 pm sharp. 

You check the time and still have another 15 minutes. You meander over to your bar cart, pour yourself a nip of vodka over ice, and sip it while you kill time. You’re not usually nervous, but tonight feels different. 

Not before long, you take a deep breath and head out the door. 

++++

The night air is crisper than usual for LA this time of year, but you ride with the windows down anyway. Your destination is a trendy rooftop bar where Tommy has chosen to meet. He hasn’t told you the occasion or why he’s hired you, but your best guess is that it’s some swanky holiday party or circle jerk between a bunch of rich people. 

The car pulls up to the entrance, and the driver walks around the vehicle to open the door for you. You adjust your dress with sweaty palms as you step out and head into the building. 

The rooftop offers a panoramic view of the city. Much to your surprise, nobody is there, except for the waitstaff and a man far from the entrance. Tommy is seated at a corner table, engrossed in the cityscape. You approach with grace, and as Tommy turns to greet you, your eyes lock in silent acknowledgment. 

The night unfolds as most of them do. 

There’s nothing strange about it. He orders a bottle of Dom, and you share a meal over casual conversation. He tells you that he rented out the entire rooftop because he wanted some privacy. Which isn’t unusual, you figure he might be some high-profile figure, or maybe he’s married, but you’ve come to learn it’s best not to ask. 

There’s nothing inherently different about this client than any other.

But for whatever reason, you can’t shake the pit of lead that’s settled in your stomach, and the gnawing little voice inside your head that’s screaming danger.

He touches your bare knee under the table and gives you a dark look, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise to stand. The gnawing little voice might as well be an opera singer at this point. 

You clear your throat and take your phone out of your purse to check the time. Fuck. You test your luck and try to excuse yourself early anyway. 

“Well, this has been lovely, but I –” you start to say, but you’re cut off by his dark eyes. 

“Nuh-uh, you’re mine for another two hours, doll,” he says in a raspy low voice. 

You watch as he slips a few $100 bills on the table. As he silently rises to stand, you catch a glimpse of the handgun that’s fastened on his hip beneath his suit jacket. Your pulse quickens at the sight. 

You follow him to the elevator, and he presses the lobby. Standing next to you, you realize how much bigger than you he is. He’s broad and built, he looks like he could rip a phonebook in half with his bare hands. 

Stay cool, stay cool, stay cool. 

On the ride down, you feel him snake one hand behind you and he hikes the hem of your dress up and runs his cold fingers up the back of your thigh and over the curves of your ass. 

“Tommy, I don’t sleep with my clients. Please stop,” you ask, your voice firm. 

He turns to face you and cages you against the elevator wall. He’s so close, you feel his hot breath on your lips. Your eyes glance over at the screen above the numbers, and you still have another 15 floors to go until you’re at the lobby. Your stomach drops. 

“You’ll do whatever I ask you to tonight, doll,” Tommy rasps, his voice cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel a hard metal pressed up against your ribs – the gun. “Do you understand?” he asks, not questioning. 

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, and your adrenaline courses through you like an F1 car. When you don’t respond, he presses the barrel of the gun harder into your ribs. Ow. “Better answer me now, Doll, or this isn’t gonna be fun for you,” he threatens. You manage to rasp out a shaky “I understand.” 

Just as you do, the elevator signals that you’re in the lobby and the doors open. He steps back from you and you slump down the wall for a moment, utterly terrified. He nudges his head toward the exit and walks closely behind you, the gun now positioned on your lower back. There’s a dark suburban waiting at the entrance of the building.

You slip into the vehicle, the cool black leather cold on the backs of your legs, and he follows in behind you. There are three other men in the car, two in the front, and one in the far back. They’re all dressed in dark colors, most of them covered in tattoos, and you’re willing to bet that all of them are armed. 

“Ooo, she’s a pretty one. We’re gonna have fun with her,” the one in the back says in a heavy voice. 

“Fuck you,” you yell back, spitting on him. It lands on his face, and a terrifying look crosses it.

He wipes the spit from his eye before he grabs the gun from his side and holds it firm against your temple. Your breathing catches in your throat and your heart freezes mid-beat. 

“You better behave you little cunt, or I’ll make it hurt more than I’m already going to,” he rasps and you let your eyes go glossy as you stare out the window, silent. He removes the gun from your head and sinks back into the seat. 

As they drive off, you consider your options. You could fight them, you think, but that probably wouldn’t end well for you. You consider trying to grab the handgun from Tommy, but he’s so much bigger than you, that probably wouldn’t end well for you either; plus you’re not even sure you’d know how to shoot it. You could grab your phone and try to call 9-1-1, but Tommy would notice you rummaging through your purse for it. 

As they’re driving, you notice that they failed to lock the doors. You’ve never kidnapped anyone, but even you know that’s a rookie mistake. You watch the road blur behind a road of tears, and then it dawns on you – your only option is to jump. You clear the tears from your eyes, set on your escape plan, and wait for the perfect moment. 

Once the car is at a reasonable speed, or so you guess, you don’t know how fast you’re going, and there seems to be no car directly behind you, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You swiftly pull the door handle, and do your best imitation of a duck-and-roll. 

You hit the pavement with a loud thud, and roll a few times, completely fucking up the skin on your knees and palms. Giving yourself no time to think, running on pure adrenaline, you stand up, abandon your heels, and make a run for it. 

“FUCK!” Tommy yells, “God damn it, man, turn around, we gotta go get her!” he yells to the driver.

You have no idea where you are or where you can go, but you allow your legs to propel you forward. 

Don’t stop, just run. 

You look over your shoulder and see the suburban making a U-turn, and you assess your options once again. You see a Taxi idling in the distance. You don’t think, you just pound on the glass for a quick second before opening the door and slipping into the vehicle. 

You’re panting, out of breath, and borderline hyperventilating. You scream “DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE.” The Taxi driver looks back at you, eyes wide, noticing the blood that’s dripping down your legs in thick streams. 

“Did you hear me!? Drive, please they’re going to find me,” you scream. He turns his head back to the windshield, pulls the lever into gear, and hits the gas. The back wheels of the taxi spin out in the gravel as he deftly pulls out into the road ahead.  

With your breathing still erratic, you look behind you through the rearview mirror and are pleased to find that nobody is following you. 

Holy shit. You escaped. 

You sit back normally in your seat and hold one hand on your heart, and the other on your stomach. You assess your hands and legs, noticing you’re covered in blood and gravel. You go to reach for your purse, but shit, you must have lost it when you jumped. 

“What the hell was that about?” the taxi driver says in a raspy low tone, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You don’t respond, your hearing still muffled and ringing from the adrenaline. 

He drives for a few minutes and then turns into a dark alley. 

“Wh – what are you doing?” you ask, keyed up, running on fear. Your hand instinctually finds the door handle, like you might need to jump again. He unbuckles his seat belt and whips around to face you, the leather of his seat squeaking a little as he does. 

He’s big, you can tell he has broad shoulders and thick biceps. Salt and pepper curls grace his head, and he has a scruffy beard to match. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows and a rugged handsomeness to him. 

“You haven’t told me where you want to go, and you’re not listening to me. ‘M not driving you anywhere until you tell me what the fuck that was about. And ‘sides, you’re bleeding. Can’t have you getting blood all over the back of my car,” he says. 

He turns back around and opens the driver's side door. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, voice shaky. What the hell? 

“‘M grabbing the damn first aid kit out of the trunk,” he retorts, a tinge of annoyance to his voice. You’re not sure why he’s being so rude in the first place. You hear the trunk pop open, the sound of ruffling like he’s grabbing something, and then the sound of the trunk slamming shut.

He rounds around to your passenger side door and opens it. 

“Look I’m fine, I don’t need you to –” he shuts you up with a thick rag pressed firm against your face. 

You swear you see him smirk before your vision blurs and fades to black. 

++++

The air in the dimly lit basement hangs heavy with dampness, and a faint odor of mildew lingers in the stale atmosphere. As your consciousness slowly returns, you realize you’re standing and tied up against a support beam in the middle of the room. 

Your wrists are bound with coarse ropes above your head in a tight knot, causing them to lose circulation. You try to wiggle yourself free, but your body is pinned firmly against the wood by ropes that also extend across your legs. You try to scream, but there’s no point. A thick strip of duct tape covers your lips, muffling even your loudest of efforts to cry out. 

You frantically observe the room around you. It’s illuminated by a single flickering light bulb overhead, the walls are concrete that have been stained with age. The only audible sounds are what you assume are footsteps in the house up above. You try and wiggle yourself free, but it only exhausts you. 

You float in and out of consciousness. As your eyes fall closed, you hope that when you wake up you’ll find that this was all just one big fucked up dream. A nightmare before Christmas. 

++++

You awake to the sensation of cool metal on your cheek. You groggily come to, and once your vision clears, you see the face of a man – the taxi driver. Your eyes bug out and you whimper beneath the duct tape. 

“Shh, shh, hush kitten,” he coos, running the flat blade of the knife over your soft cheek. “You’re okay, ‘m gonna take real good care of you, I promise.”

Hot tears well in the corners of your eyes, your eyes now bloodshot. You whimper something that sounds like a muffled “please,” under the tape and you see his pupils dilate. A devilish smirk crosses his face. 

“Oh my kitten has manners, does she,” he rasps, dragging the knife down the razor edge of your jaw, over your sternum, and down the valley of your breasts. “Say it again for me,” he says. You’re a full-blown factory of tears at this point, and you muffle out another masked please. You tug on the ropes and stare back at your captor. 

You flinch as he uses the knife and cuts your dress down the middle. Your perky tits spill out of the tight fabric, and he looks at them with hungry eyes. He sheaths the knife and uses his thick hands to rip the rest of the fabric off of you until you’re completely bare before him, minus the thin scrap of your underwear. 

“Well shit, baby. Look at you,” he takes a step back and admires your body, bringing his hand to palm at the growing bulge in his pants. 

You turn your head so you don’t have to look at him, trying to focus on something, anything but him. You hear the clanking of his metal belt unbuckling, and the faint sound of his zipper coming down. He drags his pants and underwear off of his body, and stands before you, fully hard, his large cock throbbing and red. He looks down at it and spits. 

Massaging his length in one hand, he stares at you and tells you, “Look at me, kitten.” 

You don’t. 

A deep growl escapes his chest, and he steps closer to you. Still massaging his cock with one hand, he uses the other and grips your jaw tightly, smushing your cheeks together, forcing you to look at him. “There she is, my pretty girl, that’s better,” he taunts. 

“See what you do to me?” He says, nodding down to his cock, his jaw slack. “This is what you’re gonna get for tempting me,” he darkly adds. He continues to work at his cock; to him, you may look like you’re watching him, but you’re doing your best to blur your vision, to think about anything else. 

His hand leaves his cock and comes to rest on your chest with his palm flat. He trails it over your breast and cups the weight of it, rolling your nipple to a stiff peak between his index finger and thumb. 

“If you promise you’ll be a good little kitten for me, I’ll make this feel good for you,” he says. All you can do is whimper and cry as he uses you. 

He drags his flat palm down your body, over your tummy, and cups your pussy over your underwear, feeling the warm heat of it. He growls and hooks his fingers under the fabric until the tips of them are nudged into your slit, near your hole. He dips the tip of his middle finger into your cunt, and you flinch. 

“Good little kitten, already wet for me,” he says, and then plunges the length of it inside of you. You gasp, and he smiles. He drags the length of his finger, now covered in your slick, up the seam of your pussy until it lands on your clit. He begins to draw tight circles there, and you can’t help but moan at the sensation of it. 

A low growl reverberates through his chest as he works at you, his dark eyes trained on your face. You try to suppress the need to come, and he can tell. “Filthy little girl, pretending you don’t want to come for me. Go on, baby. I know you want it,” he says darkly, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

He alternates between fucking his fingers into you and rubbing your clit. You don’t want to come, but you can’t stop it. Can’t fight it. As much as you hate it, you’re at his mercy. You’re scared to admit what it might mean if you were to come under circumstances like this, but you’re so tired, you just want to feel something good. “Be a good little slut for me, kitten. Come on my fingers, know you want to,” he says, and shit. Your vision goes white, and for the first time tonight, you don’t feel anything except pleasure. 

He collects the slick that’s formed as a result of your orgasm and uses it to coat his hard cock. He watches you and admires the fucked out look on your face. 

“Gonna free your legs now, kitten. Don’t go getting any ideas or I’ll find another way to use my knife other than cuttin’ these ropes, got it?” he rasps. He ducks down, pulls the knife from his back pocket, and uses it to saw the ropes until you’re free before once again tucking it away.  

He drags your now-soiled panties down and off your legs. You know he’s going to fuck you. And as fucked up as it is, and as much as you don’t want it, there’s a little tug at your low navel, a thread of arousal that tells you otherwise. 

He uses his hands to grab your hips and he tugs at them until your back is slightly arched against the beam. Your wrists hurt, the harsh rope burning your skin, but it pales in comparison to the thick stretch of him in your cunt. 

He fills you in one thrust, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him. He holds you up, your legs wrapped firmly against his core, and he fucks into you. He fucks you hard, his thick cock punching against your cervix with nearly every thrust. You whimper from the intensity of it. 

“That noise…keep making it,” he begs, his voice wrecked. You fight your hardest to stay silent after hearing that. “Need to know, kitten – are you on birth control? IUD? Anything?” he asks, and you think if you tell him the truth, maybe he won’t come inside of you. Stupid, stupid mistake. You shake your head “No,” and he groans. 

His hips slow and stutter. “Fuck, fuck – yeaaaahhhh, kitten. Fuck, you’re mine,” he pauses with himself buried to the hilt deep inside of you as he pumps his seed deep inside of you. 

“So good for me, kitten. You’re so good,” he says, caressing your cheek with his thumb, still inches deep inside of you. He rips the duct tape off your lips in one swoop, the tearing sensation causes your eyes to water. He plants a soft kiss on your lips, before biting your bottom lip hard enough to bleed. 

“Taste good, too,” he adds, licking your blood off of his lips. 

He pulls out, leaving you completely wrecked, and his cum smears all over your thighs. 

“Names Joel by the way,” he says, his voice impossibly dark, “just thought you might wanna know the name of the man who’s gonna make you a mother.” 

END 

Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”

Nico shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The light in the infirmary is low, and strangely soothing. It’s almost hard to keep his eyes open. But he manages, rubbing his knuckles under the curve of his eyesockets, and searches in the dark until he finds what woke him up.

Will stands a couple feet away from his bed, figure curled and shadowy, owlish eyes wide and almost unnaturally reflective in the dark.

“‘S’okay,” he mumbles. “Couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly Nico feels warmer where Will has stepped closer. “You in pain?“

“No. Just bad at sleeping.”

“Hey, me too.”

Surprise at Will’s easy admission and a little bit starstruck at the bright flash of Will’s grin, Nico doesn’t have the chance to beat himself up over being so flippantly open. His teeth seemed to glow as much as the whites of his eyes, which would be creepy, except it’s hard to feel anything but calm as a cool night breeze wafts the scent of lavender from the sill planters in every inch of the infirmary, and it’s hard to think of Will as anything but warm. Especially the hand he places, briefly, on the curve of Nico’s knee.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that.”

“Still. Sorry for waking you up.”

Nico hums, fiddling with his skull ring. “Why were you up, anyway?”

“Oh, I won’t have time to sleep for another couple days.”

There’s a mellow cracking sound, and then all of Will’s knuckles begin to glow a soft, sunset yellow. Nico startles.

“Apollo thing,” Will explains. A smirk is now visible at the corner of his mouth, forcing a dimple on his right cheek. In his hands, almost hard to see under the glow, are three small vials of something Nico doesn’t recognize. “Getting meds and salves in order.”

Hesitantly, Nico drags his gaze away from the clinking glass bottles, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes. They’re ridiculously bright. Is that an Apollo thing, too?

“Why does that mean you can’t sleep?”

Will gestures to the myriad of occupied beds outside the curtains Nico has pulled up. “Shitton of injured, man. I got way more people than I got stuff. I prepped for the Romans beforehand, obviously, but I didn’t have a good hand on their numbers and didn’t prep enough. I’m short on supplies. Haven’t slept since Gaea did.” At Nico’s look of alarm, he quickly assures, “But don’t worry, I had Cecil brew me something strong. It’s disgusting, so I think it might be his Coffee Redbull Matcha Heartstopper Special, With A Shot Of Crushed Caffeine Pills For Good Measure, but I’m not sure. Hands are only a little shakey, though, feel.”

In a mirror of a few days ago (fuck, Nico hopes he’s kidding; how long can people go without sleep?), he darts out and rests his hands under Nico’s. Sure enough, they’re trembling, although nothing nearly as bad as before.

“Dangerous levels of sleep deprivation aren’t as bad as delivering a baby, huh.”

Will shudders. “Don’t even joke.”

He looks so genuinely horrified that Nico can’t help but laugh. All they’ve seen, all they’ve suffered — and golden boy is gagging at the miracle of life. If Nico wasn’t so sure that he’d seen at least as many gory nightmares as Nico, if not more, he’d tease him for being squeamish.

…Actually.

“What kind of school nurse wannabe is squidged out by birth?”

“Nurse?” Will squawks, snatching his hands away (Nico finds his own hands, strangely and suddenly, cold). “I didn’t go to seven years of med school to be called a school nurse wannabe!”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You didn’t go to med school. You’re fifteen.”

“As I said.” He grins teasingly. “I didn’t go.”

It takes Nico a second, but when he gets it he cannot physically hold himself back from kicking him. Solace, weak from muffled laughter, stumbles sideways into a lamp.

“Ay! Be careful, you wanna kill the camp’s only brain surgeon?”

“If he’s being annoying,” Nico bites back. He can’t quite stop smiling, and he’s embarrassed about it, but thankfully the darkness hides his face. “There’s no way you’ve done brain surgery.”

The shitty cot Nico’s been coerced into camping on for the next three days creaks as Will perches on the edge of it.

“Have so. In the woods, two years ago, removed a brain tumour. Stressful as shit.” He flashes another sideways grin. “Couple dozen more medical emergencies under my belt, and I might actually be as qualified as a nurse in this country’s garbage medical system. Thank the gods for them, honestly. They do a shit lot more than a lot of doctors claim to.”

Sensing the topic change for what it is, Nico doesn’t press any further. “That what you wanna do?”

“Aw, man, I don’t even want to think about it. The idea of someone else running this infirmary gives me a stress ulcer. Y’all do a lot of stupid shit and frankly some of the procedures I have performed exist in no medical textbooks anywhere, medical or no.” He snorts. “Anyways.”

His hands are blazingly warm again, almost like sun through a maginifying glass, when they pat his shin twice. He stands, stretching — more bursts of light appearing along the length of his spine, lighting what his fading knuckles leave out.

“Try to sleep again, Neeks. You’ll need it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to say that to you,” Nico says. Will waves his hand dismissively, and in a fit of impulse Nico reaches out and grabs it, meeting his raised eyebrow with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I mean it, Will. No one’s awake right now. I just woke up. Why don’t you crash for an hour or so? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Will hesitates. “If anything happens, that’s on me. It — I can’t let it be on me.”

“Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. Of course Will doesn’t trust him, Nico let someone die in front of his eyes, Nico is the bringer of death and darkness, why would he —

“Yeah.” Will sighs. Nico looks up, startled, but the medic is eyeing one of the few spare cots, face screwed up in consideration. “You’ll wake me?”

“Immediately,” Nico assures hastily. He nods his head at the bunk next to him. “Sleep, man. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, well, just what I’ve always wanted to hear from you. You look stunning, by the way.”

Nico knows it’s a joke, but he flushes anyway. Thank Hades again for the dark infirmary, and the length of his hair.

“Whatever. Sleep or don’t.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

In seconds he’s out of his flip-flops, slightly-scratchy blankets turned up and wrapped tightly around him all the way up to his neck.

“Thanks, Nico. I owe you.”

In the next breath, he’s out, all that’s visible of him the flutter of his light eyelashes and the tangled mop of blond hair. He snores, slightly, with every puffed exhale; a tiny, stuttered sound, not unlike a cat. It’s kind of cute, and Nico’s smiling before he realising.

“You don’t owe anybody shit.” He shakes his head fondly, leaning back onto his pillows to keep an eye out. “Goodnight, Will.”

[rinniereads123]

One-Shots

SOME OF THESE STORIES ARE MATURE! READ THE WARNINGS AND TAGS BEFORE YOU READ!

★ - personal favorites | masterlist

Little Bookworm - @heytheredelulu

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Anywhere Away With You - @thevillainswhore

Old ghosts from your past threaten to disturb the peace you’ve made with your new life. Will temptation steer you away?

★The Ties That Bind Us - @thevillainswhore

Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.

Warrior/Worrier - @delaber

After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Pink in the Night - @d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n

Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Love Hurts - @urdepressedslut

You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time) - @mellowsaturns

When the Avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of Hydra was destroyed. One unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but Bucky knows it. He could recognize those eyes anywhere.

I Hate You - @ellemj

After ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with.

One More Night - @marvelouslizzie

You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

The Things We Carry With Us - @pellucid-constellations

You were injured on a mission and didn’t tell anyone, leaving your already rocky relationship with Bucky crumbling. Was it really hate he harbored for you, or was it something else? 

Control - @bucky-bucket-barnes

John Walker makes the dire mistake of messing with Bucky’s girl. This misstep causes a major fight to break out between the two, ending in nothing but blood and rage.

I Can Save You This Time - @pellucid-constellations

It’s the 4th of July and you’ve never been more sick. Turns out you aren’t the only one in the compound that stayed home from the celebration.

Shaken Up - @jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

Steve and Bucky find their girl passed out.

Under Pressure - @banditthewriter

Y/N hides a nasty injury from the team until they know everybody is safe, and then they collapse. Bucky worries about Y/N.

Injuries - @flowinglocksofbuck

you get injured on a mission and Bucky freaks out

Wicked - @str-spangled-banner

You were injured during a mission two weeks ago and put to much pressure on your healing wounds, doing more damage than you thought possible. Bucky fears he will lose you.

Necessary Evil - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Y/N gets seriously injured and Bucky takes care of her.

fingers fantasy fulfilled - @purple-babygirl

If Bucky's doll wanted his metal fingers then that was exactly what she was going to get.

Lavender - @wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know. 

Give Me A Sign - @lostgirlmuseum

Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Fulfilled Fantasy - @sergeantbarnessdoll

Y/N admits to Bucky that she wants to have a threesome so he has Natasha help fulfill her fantasy.

Hottest Night of Your Life - @bossbtch1

Bucky and Steve joined you for a night out at the club, but things took a dark turn when a stranger spiked your drink. Bucky and Steve were more than willing to "take care" of you.

Sharing is Caring - @sad-not-glad

Soft Dom! Steve x Sub! Bucky x Dom! reader

My Queen - @adrinktostopyourthirst

The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there's a willing soldier at your disposal.

all the apple cider and no more haunted houses - @witchywithwhiskey

you and bucky barnes have a love-hate relationship—you love him and you believe he hates you—but when your friends insist on going to the scariest haunted house attraction in the area, the experience ends up forcing your real feelings for each other out into light

my everything - @mrsbarnesblog

The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

you were mine just yesterday - @notafunkiller

It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

[jackles010378]

"SUPE"R Flexible

(Soldier Boy x You)

Billy Butcher forces you to babysit Soldier Boy. Ben doesn't know you're a supe, until one night you have a nightmare and things get quite heated between you both 🔥❤️‍🔥

Warnings : Contains SMUT (of course it does, it is soldier boy 😆😜)

(I laughed so hard at one of the lines I came up with {sad I know} let's see if you guys can figure out which one it is 😂🤭)

When Billy Butcher showed up at y/n's door, it was like a bomb going off in her quiet life. He had Soldier Boy in tow, a weathered and battle-worn soldier with a haunted look in his eyes. With his gruff voice and rough exterior, Butcher asked her without any pleasantries to keep an eye on Soldier Boy for him. Bewildered and taken aback, y/n reluctantly agreed, uncertain of what she had gotten herself into. "Don't worry sweet cheeks, you won't even realise I'm here" Soldier Boy commented as he pushed past her and plopped himself down on her sofa.

In just under an hour, Butcher had a few things delivered for Soldier Boy, which mainly consisted of booze, drugs and pornos. She turned a blind eye to all that. She knew what Soldier Boy had endured before he was put in that chamber over 40 years ago. As long as he didn't trash the place she left him to it. She only occasionally got annoyed with him when he wouldn't clean up after himself, or that he would just decide to walk around the apartment naked most of the time. Although she really didn't mind the latter part, he was easy on the eye after all.

The first few days after Butcher left seemed like an eternity. Y/n and Ben, which she now called him after a much heated argument, her telling him she wasn't gonna keep shouting Soldier Boy all the time. They managed to avoid each other as much as possible, their interactions limited to awkward greetings and fleeting glances. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and unease whenever she caught glimpses of the man she was now responsible for. "Why don't you take a picture doll face, it will last longer" Ben said to her as he could feel her stare at him. Smiling to herself, she got her phone out and took it. He glared back at her as he heard the camera go off. He yanked the phone out of her hand "hey, you break it you will buy me a new one".

She watched in amusement as Ben studied the object in his hand. She knew she had to teach him about all the changes that had happened over the last 40 years he'd been "asleep".

He agreed reluctantly to let her show him all the new things like how smart TVs work, a laptop and obviously a mobile phone. He wasn't going to let on that he was enjoying spending time with her. Ben still had a lot of trust issues, he was let down by what was supposed to be 'his' team. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that he could trust y/n though.

Butcher had failed to mention to Soldier Boy that y/n was a supe just like him. Though to look at her you wouldn't tell she was one. Her frame was tiny although she was quite tall and she didn't have the muscle structure he had. Her powers were more to do with flexibility. If needed, y/n could squeeze herself into any small space or through the tiniest of gaps no one else could. Her bones were like elastic, making her able to bend into any shape she needed to.

Y/n, like Ben had been through a rough time. When Butcher found her she was so close to death he thought she would never make it. He didn't know of her powers until he took her to the hospital and they did all sorts of tests on her. Telling him she shouldn't have survived what she had endured and that it was a miracle she'd survived at all. It was then he asked starlight to do a little digging. He sent her a photo of y/n and asked if she could get info on her. Starlight found y/n's file at Vought HQ and told Butcher she was made into a supe. She was supposed to be a part of Homelander's team but she refused. Resulting in him torturing her endlessly till she caved, but she never did.

Nights were the hardest for y/n. Filled with restless sleep and vivid nightmares, she found herself tossing and turning, unable to find solace. And then one night, Ben heard her screams of distress. His instincts kicked in, and he rushed to her thinking she was being harmed.

Ben shook y/n awake, some concern etched on his weary face. Startled awake, she went into attack mode to begin with, but as soon as she realised it was Ben and looked into his eyes, in that moment something shifted. There was a connection between them, a spark that ignited a passion deep inside of her that she had never felt before.

Ben backed away from her as she regained her senses and breathing pattern. He stood in her doorway, staring at her. "Why don't you take a picture it will last longer" she shouted out at him making him laugh loudly. "What's so fucking funny Ben, You never seen someone having a nightmare before" she shouts at him, getting up from the bed ready to have yet another argument with the stubborn supe.

The air was thick with anticipation as Ben and Y/N exchanged smouldering glances across the room. What happened next surprised y/n. With only a couple of steps, Ben was right in front of her. His chest heaving as he tried to decide whether he wanted to fight her or kiss her. "What the fuck are you doing......." Before she could finish, his lips were attacking hers with a force that knocked her off her feet. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist as she tried to fight the kiss. As much as she tried, she felt herself melting in his arms, kissing him back with as much force and passion he was giving to her.

The apartment became their steamy playground, each corner serving as a canvas for their passionate encounter. The living room became a shrine to their love, with every piece of furniture playing a role in their fiery dance. He practically threw her over the arm of the sofa, taking her from behind. Every drag of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy made her moan. Her walls pulsating and squeezing his penis tight.

After he finished with her on the sofa, y/n found herself pushed against the wall, her breath catching in her chest as Ben's hands roamed her body with urgency. His touch was electric, igniting a wildfire within her. She surrendered to him completely, allowing him to conquer her body in the most untamed ways. He grabbed her ass and lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, his erection thrusting into her hard and fast once again.

They moved them from one room to another, fuelled by a fierce hunger that knew no boundaries. The kitchen countertops bore witness to their unbridled passion, as ingredients and utensils were forgotten in favour of more sensual indulgences. Y/n took Ben in her mouth, sucking and licking the underside of his dick, taking him fully in her mouth almost gagging as he thrust deep into her throat, making his cum shoot down her esophagus.

The bathroom became a sanctuary of pleasure, steam masking their fervent exclamations. Water cascaded over their entwined bodies as they abandoned themselves to a raw desire, their moans echoing through the apartment like a symphony of ecstasy. Ben sunk to his knees, his face buried deep in her pussy, licking and sucking at her clit, his tongue plunging into her core.

With the bedroom as their final destination, their union intensified. The sheets twisted beneath their weight as they moved with a primal rhythm. The room became an arena for their love, sweat-slicked bodies colliding in a chorus of gasps and cries. With one final thrust and an orgasm that he thought would nearly kill her, Ben collapsed beside y/n. He looked over at y/n noticing the satiated look on her face "well, you've surprised me doll, didn't think you'd be able to take all of what I just did to you. I'm impressed" he said quite smugly.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him. She got out of the bed and tied her robe around herself "I see Butcher didn't tell you everything about me then" she said whilst not looking at him. Ben quirked an eyebrow at her as she turned round to face him. "I'm just like you Ben, I'm a supe". Ben shot up in the bed and crawled over to the side y/n was standing grabbing her waist "well yeah he kinda failed to mention that. Why didn't you tell me". He seemed annoyed and a little angry. Y/n's hand caressed his cheek pulling him in for a kiss "well you know now".

He pulled her back onto the bed and hovered over her "so, what's your super power then" he asked as he nipped at her neck and collarbone, "let's just say, I'm very, very flexible" Ben's head shot up to look at her face, a small smirk playing on her lips. "How flexible are we talking" he asked with a look on his face that gave y/n shivers "oh honey, you could bend me like a pretzel and it wouldn't hurt me" Ben growled at that comment and was ripping the robe from her body "shall we put it to the test then". For the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning Ben had had y/n in every imaginable position he could think of.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99 @deadlydivergentgirl

[bettyfrommars]

nightmare!eddie x reader

a Nightmare Factory blurb

I had several smut blurb requests to do with Eddie working his magic to give us a wet dream, including one from the lovely @jo-harrington that I will probably do something with separately, and it's literally all I could think about today, so I spit this out.

18+ONLY, somnophilia, smut, unprotected sex, squirting, reader receiving oral, pet names. Okay so, this is somnophilia because reader is actually asleep, but it's also...a dream. This is a consensual relationship, and they've been together for a while at this point (for those following the story, this is a time jump). It's a wet dream, but there is also evidence that they really had intercourse. wc: 1.3k

masterlist

authors note: I've decided we are going to jump around a bit in theis series because the non-linear way is more fun, I think. I still have a Headless Horseman Eddie coming soon, but this one felt very important xoxoxox

-------

Eddie got to work early that day and threw a sheepish grin down the hall at Kevin before plopping down in his chair for the group safety meeting to do with falling from extreme heights in dreams.  

He hadn’t been able to see you in weeks and—my god—he missed you so much it made his heart hurt.  

You’d been keeping your nightmare boyfriend a secret from your family and friends, but it was hard not to mention Eddie when you’d made sure his face was a fixture in your life.  It started out as a few sketches when you first woke up, trying to keep his image fresh, but then it progressed to paintings and even a few sculptures.  You had a whole journal full of notes and different ways Eddie had appeared to you, dating back to before you ever knew who or what he was.  

“Last night, he came to me as ghostly whispers that swam in my head, and sang to me a haunting melody.”

You weren’t afraid of anything anymore, especially not your nightmares.  Being chased by a masked killer? It was just Eddie, strolling by to say hello.  A glimpse of a shadow monster behind you when you stood at the bathroom mirror? It’s just Eddie, coming around on his way to another job.  A clawed hand grabs your ankle from under the bed? Of course, it’s Eddie—-he wants to tell you a story about something that happened at work before he forgets.

Two months ago, things had become more intimate between the two of you.  There had been some yearning kisses before that, a bit of hand holding, but it was always a gamble because he said he didn’t want to mess up and get “taken off your route” completely, as if he were delivering newspapers or soliciting magazine subscriptions.

That afternoon, you took a nap, and woke up in the throws of a wet dream so fierce, you were barely able to touch yourself before you were cumming so hard it made you shake.  When the wave subsided, you rolled over and looked at the ceiling with a smile spreading across your face: “Eddieee, was that you?”

You took that as a sign that he would return that night, and so you slept naked, ready to tempt him.  The anticipation made it hard for you to drift off to sleep at first, but it wasn’t long before you felt his calloused hands moving up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, waiting for you to acknowledge him.  “Did you miss me?”

You moaned, still half asleep, but cognizant of his presence in your dream.  

Your lower back bucked off the bed when his tongue sank between your legs, making your cunt throb.

“Damn, I love how wet you get for me,” he kissed your inner thigh and ran his nose along your slit, darting his tongue into your aching hole. His tongue was…longer than you remembered, and you could feel it fill you up and twist inside of you like a big snake on the run.

You whimpered and twitched, making him smile against your engorged pussy as it dripped for him and only him.

“You came so hard for me earlier today,” his whispers were far away but also right at your ear.  One mouth sucked at your nipples and licked them while the other latched onto your core—as if there were two of him.  “I need to taste it this time.”

Under your closed lids, your eyes moved from side to side and your jaw went slack as a long groan escaped.

You were close, and Eddie knew it.

He could feel your arousal bloom in his mouth, and he rutted it in the air of the celestial sphere the two of you were existing in.  

Your whole body stiffened as you came, gasping, hips bucking up to meet his mouth, to let him suck every last drop from you.

“God, I’m so crazy about you,” he mumbled against your slit as he lapped you up, licking all the way back and teasing there a little bit. 

You could feel your eyes fluttering open and you worried that you were waking up, “no no no no…” you repeated, becoming aware of the infinite blackness around you.

You saw Eddie’s head pop up from between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Eddie,” you breathed, relieved. You wanted to put your arms around him, to spread your legs wider so that he could be inside of you, but your limbs had minimal strength. “Where are we this time?”

It looked like you were floating in a dark night sky surrounded by a sea of bright, blinking stars. It felt like you were on your bed back in your room, but there was not a trace of anything familiar.  

With a grin still wet from your gift, he crawled up on top of you to plant a few sweet kisses on your face.  “We’re in the same astral plane with the rest of the soul suckers and the sex demons.  I’m doing my best to lay low, so the head Incubus doesn’t know I’m here.”  

Talking to your boyfriend and kissing him was great but you were suddenly hit with another blast of horniness so strong it made you clench.

“I need you, Eddie,” you whined against his mouth, finally able to move your hands up to undo his belt.  “Inside of me this time.”

His clothes were off in a split second, as if he’d never been wearing any to begin with. Your hole gripped at nothing when the tip of his hard length rubbed against it.  

“That’s it —fuck—just like that,” he held your hips up and sank in deep as your eyes fell closed again.  You drifted in and out of the astral plane as he made you his with long, slow strokes first, hitting that perfect spot inside each time.

You chanted his name as he worked his fingers in the right spot, just like you'd taught him to the last time you were together.  "You're doing so good, baby," you hushed. At one point, you felt like you were being lifted off the bed—becoming weightless—while he kept a steady pace.  

He hesitated abruptly, pausing there, and you managed to open your heavy eyelids to look at him. 

His expression was a serious one. “I’m about to cum, baby, but I wanted to tell you that I think I…I think I…”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence and your head rolled back as he continued, cursing at how good it felt.  

Your second orgasm hit with a sense of release you’d never felt before, and you cried out, trembling, as sunburst exploded at your core and a velvet whip cracked.

“You’re cumming…all over me…oh my god,” and the sight of your release spraying onto his cock made Eddie pour himself into you on the spot, stuttering as your walls milked him, each of you babbling incoherent words of worship to the other.

In the aftermath, he took you in his arms from behind to spoon you close.  He could feel your breathing change, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you left dreamland through the magical door.  

“I think…” he started again, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear.  “I think I’m in love with you.”

—---

You took your time waking up, guiding yourself through another orgasm as the remnants of the dream lingered.  As always, you tried to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as possible, gasping his name as you came again, and your head lolled from side to side on the pillow.  

Once you were fully awake, the all too familiar sadness set in; the realization that he wasn’t really there, with you, like you wanted him to be.  

Your spirits soon lifted when you felt his seed drip down your leg on your way to the bathroom, elated at the realization that you had successfully kept a piece of him with you. 

One day, you’d figure out a way to keep all of him.

[radiant-reid]

300

him in cult episodes >>>>

Summary: Reader recalls something Spencer told her months ago when he’s taken hostage by a cult (based on 14x01)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

Content Warning: mentions of most of spencer’s trauma

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist | Navigation

Everything’s a mess.

Y/n’s used to the BAU lifestyle, and today is not the first day a team member has been abducted. It’s not even the first time that it’s been Spencer’s life in danger. Last time it was a three-month-long nightmare that seemed never ending during his time in prison.

It was different now. After what he said, everything between them changed.

She’s not expecting anyone when Spencer slides open the door to the balcony, and she whips her head around to see him.

It’s late in the evening, and she’s escaped the ground floor of Rossi’s mansion, where everyone’s partying, to a quieter balcony upstairs. Cicadas chirp in the spring night air, and there’s a faint beat of the bass of the music from downstairs. Rossi lives far enough outside of DC that the stars are bright, shimmering in the dark sky.

The balcony has a comfortable outdoor couch and armchair, perfect for sitting there and tuning out the world. She needs to do that. Spencer, her fellow BAU team member and friend, has been out of prison for a month, but the stress hasn’t dissipated completely. If she thinks about it hard enough, she’s back sitting at the round table while Penelope reads over an arrest report from Mexico, feeling completely helpless.

“There she is.” He greets her with a kind smile.

His smiling is something she seriously missed when he was away. “Hey.” She replies.

He holds out her jacket that she’d left downstairs, helping put it on her shoulders. “I thought you might be cold up here.” He explains the thoughtful gesture. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” She shakes her head, nodding to the armchair she’s not occupying. “Sit, please.”

He accepts her offer eagerly. Then he follows her eyes out over Rossi’s perfectly maintained yard to the sky. “Wow.” He comments.

She hums at his tone. “I know.” She agrees. “Has everyone else gone home?”

Spencer shakes his head. “No, but they’re onto karaoke.” He informs her, laughing before his following statement. “Very alarming sounds.”

She chuckles slightly. He wouldn’t believe it, but he’s funny. She appreciates their time together more now, having gone without it for three long months.

“They’re missing out on your singing.” She jokes, smirking at him.

It’s mostly in reference to karaoke at The Benjamin all those years ago, where they sang all night long. It seems like a long time ago, and so much has changed, but despite what he’s been through, Spencer’s glow never diminished. He’s still the guy who somehow knew how to deliver a baby when he needed to.

“They don’t need to hear that.” He assures her, chuckling. “Again.”

“I thought it was great.” She admits or teases: she’s not sure which. “A highlight was Bohemian Rapsody.”

He cringes, shaking his head at the foggy memory. “I was hoping by then you’d had enough to drink.”

“Oh, I had.” She assures him, earning a confused look from the genius before she reminds him of something he had happily forgotten. “Hotch videoed that whole night.”

Spencer does something he rarely does then, sharing the feelings in his big brain. “I miss him.”

Y/n does too. She’d never missed someone more than she missed Hotch when Spencer was in prison, knowing that his skills as a prosecutor would have been insanely helpful.

“Me too. I’m happy he’s spending time with Jack, though.” She reminds them why it had been his time to go. “The kid deserves it.”

Spencer agrees, but he doesn’t feel the need to say anything, so they sit there in silence. It’s the most peace he’s felt in a long time.

“Y/n?” He asks, briefly getting her attention when she turns to look at him.

“Mm?” She replies, prompting him to continue.

It’s now or never. He draws in a deep breath, preparing for what he needs to say. There’s been so much weight on his shoulders for the last month, and this confession will lift some of it off. One thing he’s learned since prison is that he needs to say what he feels before it’s too late.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He admits, voice wavering slightly. “I think I was always meant to be in love with you.

There’s a beat of silence. And then another. One more.

She’s taking the information in at a slow processing speed, and the words don’t reach her mouth.

He takes it as his answer. He didn’t tell her expecting anything, like her to love him back, just to feel lighter, which works. “I just- I need you to know that.”

She should kiss him. It’s the right thing to do. Not right as in socially acceptable, but right for herself. In her heart, she’s meant to be with him and now is the perfect opportunity. A literal confession spoken to her. There’s no room to worry about him not returning her feelings and their friendship souring. He’s in love with her, and she can’t reply.

More silence, and he decides that it’s getting awkward. He spirals about making her uncomfortable, so he stands up, walking back to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

She wills her legs to work, to run after him and catch him on the stairs, eagerly jump into his arms and kiss him like she’s wanted to do since she met him in front of Rossi’s expensive artwork. 

She doesn’t.

It’s what she’s thinking about on the jet. Maybe it’s selfish when everyone else goes over where the cult could have taken him, but she’s replaying that evening. How his hand felt when he grazed her bare shoulder, the sound of his shoes as he shuffled away, and how sweet the air tasted that night compared to the bitter resentment she tasted after she didn’t follow him.

“He told you the truth, huh?” JJ asks, sliding into the seat across from her before she even notices someone’s focus on her.

“You know?” Y/n asks in reply, slightly shocked. Sure, they’re best friends, but she didn’t expect Spencer to be spilling his romantic feelings about a colleague to JJ.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know for so long.” She remarks, met with a confused look from her friend. In her mind, Y/n had assumed Spencer had been in love with her for a few months, maximum. “He’s been in love with you for years.”

Her heart sinks in her chest. Is it wrong for her to feel warm? Knowing Spencer’s out there alone- hurt, from what Penelope said- it seems inappropriate. “He has?” She repeats. 

“Since he met you.” She answers before amending her speech. “Maybe a week or two after.”

So about as long as she had loved him. And she might never get to tell him. 

She can’t help but think about how she might stand over his casket and cry next week, wishing she had told him that night, back when everything was perfect.

JJ sees the panic, how her face goes pale, and she reaches out to touch her friend’s arm. “He’ll be okay.” She promises. She has to have that faith, too, if she’s going to be able to function.

Y/n nods, willing herself to keep it together. “I know. Let’s get him back.”

She must have spent most of the flight before JJ came to sit with her in shock because soon the plane’s landing, and they’re in SUVs driving to the cult’s compound.

Her heart races in her chest, pulse thumping once they arrive, and Emily initiates the infiltration plan. They’ve got to be quick and quiet, knowing the cult will claim Spencer as their 300th victim without being talked down. To them, his being there is a decade in the making. It’s spiritual, and there’s no way they’ll let him go. 

He’s completely tied up onto a structure, standing upright, when she gets a peek at him, his hands strapped by his side, legs tied, and a band wrapped around his head to keep his head in place. It’s very sacrificial with The Messiah and Agent Meadows standing around him. 

He’s bruising, too, red marks around his face that will develop into a deep purple. She can’t see into his mind, but she wonders if he’s formulating an escape plan because he looks like he’s accepted it, conceded defeat, and come to terms with dying. Even from far away, his eyes are watery and his breathing steady, like he’s finally admitted to himself that they’re not coming to save him. 

It’s easily the most terrifying expression she’s seen on anyone’s face. It’s bone-chilling.

They move in quickly, knowing he has seconds, not minutes. Y/n dashes to Spencer with JJ, the cult members around her getting shot or arrested being blocked out of her mind. 

His face softens when he sees her, fingers flexing as she and JJ untie his restraints. When his hands are free, he falls forward onto her, clutching her tightly, one arm over her shoulder, one under. 

It’s the tightest she’s ever been hugged, his grip making her feel like she’s his lifeline and he’s coming back to life. He pants out a breath like he hasn’t breathed since he was tied up. His hands spread out on her back, he buries his chin in her neck, and they rock side to side. 

“Y/n.” Spencer whispers, closing his eyes and focusing on holding her. “You came.”

“Of course.” She replies. “Always. You good?”

“Can I have another minute?” He asks, practically begs. Even if she’s not his, he needs to hold her for a bit longer before he can’t ever again.

She squeezes him tighter, assuring him it’s okay. “Always.” She repeats. 

It feels like it’s just the two of them, despite the chaos behind her. She takes in his cologne and how right it feels to be comforting him. Her feelings for him are much more straightforward in her head than they were that night at Rossi’s. 

His breathing calms down, so it’s not erratic hyperventilating, and he loosens his grip around her, more than ready to get out of there now that he feels alive and whole again. 

She loses him after that, keeping some distance while he hugs everyone else and thanks them in true Spencer fashion. There isn’t an opportunity to talk to him when they’re on the jet home since Emily is. She just sits and watches him, reminding herself that he’s okay.

She can’t stop thinking about his expression from the cult compound when she saw him, how unafraid he looked despite knowing he was about to get sacrificed. Maybe he knew they were there, like something deep inside him told him he’d be okay, but he looked prepared to die.

There are more hugs when they get back to Quantico, Penelope practically unwilling to let him go or out of her sight. The case has to end, and exhaustion falls over them when the adrenaline wears off, despite a new day dawning. 

That night, she runs after him like she should have done at Rossi’s, barely making it to the elevator before the doors shut. 

He looks surprised to see her. “I thought you went home.” He says.

She couldn’t. She’s not sure she’ll be able to leave him in the BAU ever again. “I didn’t.” She reports then immediately feeling like an idiot because that much was obvious.

“Why?” He asks caringly. 

“You were still here.” She admits honestly, looking up at his gentle brown eyes. They’re always more golden in the morning.

“I just had to do a psychological counseling thing.” He explains.

Her eyebrows furrow, confused about why someone would make him do that only hours after he was saved. “This soon?” 

He nods. “Damaged goods.” He says, like it’s his label. And he fully believes it. 

“You’re not.” She firmly tells him, mostly angry the FBI would subject him to something invasive so early.

“Y/n.” He says in a tone that sounds like he’s begging her not to sympathize with him falsely. 

Y/n shakes her head, eyeing him with fiery irises as she dares him to continue speaking negatively of himself. “You saved yourself, Spencer.” She informs him sincerely. “Are you hungry?” She asks.

The change of topic disorients him, but it seems a better conversation than arguing over how much of a mess he is. “Starving.” He answers. He didn’t have much time to think about it, with being abducted by a cult, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, if you can call a packet of chips lunch.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” She offers before quickly retracting any implications her suggestion could have. “Unless you just need some time alone or don’t want to hang out with him. I won’t be offended.” She wants to tell him, needs to confess what she should have before, but he’s in such an emotional state that she would hate to take advantage of that.

She couldn’t get further from the truth. Spending time with her, specifically, has always made things easier. “I’d really like that.” He admits, sending her a soft smile. 

They barely speak on the drive into DC. There’s a lot of tension in the air, words left unspoken, but Spencer needs time to look at her. He’s at a point where he knows nothing will happen between them, but there’s still a life he imagines when he needs a quick spike of dopamine. She, and an imagined future between them, is his drug of choice now.

He orders pancakes, copying her, rather than getting his usual meal of eggs, bacon, and toast. He ditches coffee in favor of juice, knowing he’s going home to sleep after breakfast when the rest of the adrenaline wears off. 

No deep conversation gets brought up at breakfast, either. Instead, there’s laughter, and every time she looks up at him, Spencer smiles. 

He’s used to going home alone after any trauma in his life. Even after prison and Mr. Scratch, he returned to an empty apartment. After he was abducted by Tobias Hankel, when he got out of the hospital after getting poisoned by anthrax, and even after he got shot in the neck in Texas after Alex dropped him at home, he was by himself.

It’s better with someone else -he decides while they’re sitting there- because he can not think about it in favor of thinking about her.

He eats like he’s been without food for a week, even getting a refill of juice, although everything he’s been through would make anyone hungry.

And he pays, despite her telling him she would, so she drives him home through the traffic-less streets, thanks to everyone being at work.

He hesitates before he gets out of the car once they arrive at his apartment. “Do you want to come up?” 

She accepts, following him up the stairs. It’s a good time to do it, now that they’re alone and in private. 

His apartment is lighter than when she saw it when she went with Penelope once to water his plants while he was in prison. It’s neater with the curtains open, and he might have added even more books to the impressive collection she previously noticed.

Unsure of how long she’s staying, Y/n takes off her shoes on instinct. Spencer’s not sure why he invited her up other than wanting to spend more time with her, so he’s not sure what to do now that she’s there. 

She speaks before he can offer her water. “Were you scared?” She asks before realizing the insensitivity of her question. She doesn’t want to sound like a shitty Bureau psychologist, just his friend, haunted by a snapshot in her mind of his expression. “I just mean... we were, and Penelope was when she came. JJ was because you’re her best friend. You weren’t even shaking. Sorry I didn’t-”

Spencer cuts her off before she can spiral. “I wasn’t. Not when Penelope was safe.” 

“Why not?” She asks. It makes sense, his wanting to protect Penelope, but she can’t understand why he wasn’t scared when he was moments away from death. She’s thought about it enough without coming up with an answer for it to be necessary to ask. 

“Because, Y/n, what I told you that night at Rossi’s.” Her breathing hitches at the mention of the best, or maybe one of the worst, nights of her life. “If that’s the last proper, non-case-related discussion we have, I’m okay with that. I couldn’t die without you knowing I love you.”

She shakes her head, eyes tearing up at the confirmation of his acceptance of dying. “There’s more for you than that.” She says, hoping he knows it. 

He does. 

He’s got three perfect godsons, he’d love to go back to Paris, he’s always wanted a family, a wife and a big house, there are still books he hasn’t read, there are still sequels being written, there are classes yet to teach and profilers yet to train, there are chess games to win and to lose, and old friends left to see. 

They both know his life isn’t close to be finished. 

“You knowing is what mattered.” He repeats. “Right from when I realized I wasn’t going to get out by myself, I knew it would be okay since you knew.”

“It wouldn’t be okay!” She says a little too loudly, close to crying. “You can’t be okay with that.”

There’s more in her head, and he’s reluctant to push her to find out, but he does. “Why?”

She sighs, feeling small standing there in front of him. “Because if you died, I couldn’t have told you I love you.” She reveals one of her deepest fears that she hadn’t realized until recently. 

“Oh,” Spencer says, jaw going slack. He’s rarely speechless. “Recently or...” It’s the only thing he can think to do: establish a timeline.

“For a long time.” She admits. “I just- I froze that night. I couldn’t say it, but I felt it.” 

He senses the apology that’s about to spill and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He believes it when he says it and walks closer to hold her hands in front of her. She’s surprised by the contact, but it’s nice, even if his hands are slightly cold.

For a moment, they just stand there, and she admires his gorgeous cheekbones and those honey-colored eyes that make her weak when he looks at her so intensely.

He doesn’t rush his next move. Slowly, he drops her hands and cups her cheeks, smiling softly. Then he leans forward, giving her what she’s been waiting for for a long time. His lips are soft on hers like he’s testing the waters, giving her a chance to pull away before pouring passion into it. She matches his pressure while basking in the glow of kissing Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid, who loves her. 

They share a matching fond look when they pull back. 

Then he’s laughing, and it’s the cutest thing in the world, along with being confusing. The slight, amused frown on her face causes him to explain. “You love me, and I love you.” He says like he can’t believe it. “Wow.”

She knows that reaction from when she had it at Rossi’s, and he looks adorable experiencing it, grinning so hard his face might split. For a long time, he’s wanted to be loved by someone romantically, and now he is. After everything he’s been through, Spencer thought it wouldn’t happen, and for the first time in his life, he’s glad to be wrong.

“What are you doing today?” He asks when he’s collected himself.

“Well, I was going to go home and sleep.” She answers, wondering what he’s going to suggest they do while knowing she could be persuaded into almost anything by him.  

“Sleep here.” He says quickly. “Not like that.” A blush fills his cheeks. “If you want. Then we could go to dinner, lunch, a movie theatre, or the park, wherever you want.” 

She’s nodding before he finishes. He could ask her out on a date to watch paint drying in his spare bedroom, and she would eagerly accept. “Yes.”

Tell me what you think

Taglist

Join here

@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @doctorspenceryeet @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @morganwilliams  @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc  @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @idkbubs @mochionly  @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @sassymoon @nomajdetective @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup  @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17  @tanyaherondale @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @lovingsherlockmolly @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore  @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @jakiki94 @narryl0ver @justreadingficsdontmindme @hobireasns @goldentournesol @kbakery @kaitieskidmore1 @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @kbakery @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @geekykeen @thisbitch-6 @andreead @kayleea122 @xoxospencerreid @dirtytissuebox @xoxospencerreid @jaydahlynne @sultrypotter @awhoreforspencerreid @sprinh @doe-eyed-fallen-angel @kamilaxq @beans-beanz @malindacath @halloween-is-my-nationality @kenny-0909  @mexicosuitrry @lucyysthings @iheartfinnthehuman101 @vane28282 @mente-sindescanso @lucyysthings @tatespillows @cecethoughts @manuosorioh @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @barbietiingz @grandhideoutavenue @feelinlento @i3k2ts @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @sanaz1dlol @ant-mans-tacos @mente-sindescanso @yumuramma @bubblebuttwade @bellarkeselection @spenceswifewhore  @barbiekatz @itseightbeats @neptunes-curse @sucker1-1punch  @nyx2021 @stilinski-void-04 @dirtytissuebox @daydreaminrry @mysticfalls01 @furiousladyking @gildedstarlight @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidsmexyconverse @scargarcia-magshotchner @wdytminy @rio-reid-whoreee @lovelyxtom @b3ast1706 @slvdsjjk @beenz-beenz @alltoowell-lilysversion @la-reine-des-enfers @mochi-moons @itzliyalupin @queenofrandom @ryswritingrecord @ynbutbetter @thxtmarvelchick @allthingsfashionn @justlivinginadaydream @liltimmyst @catertotshitposts @max-mml @crynroom @sugarcoated-lame @lilibet261 @bts-sugaplum @dezibou @a-marlene-s @crynroom @tracysnook @spencersprettyslut @alexxavicry @reidingspence@melonmochi @thicksexxualtension @haylexo10 @rosaliedepp @bport76  @dirtytissuebox @itsmekarlam @saintnourah @liltimmyst @mikkelsenlover @spencer-reid-wonderland @dirtytissuebox @esoltis280  @berenicexd @lyn07 @crynroom @taysatlantic @alphabetbarnes @4margaritasalex  @namelesslizz @allisonslibrary @suckmyass-things @jasminesacademia @littlemoon-fairy @lucy @waywardhunter95 @neptunes-curse @rayrayfrommindless21 @regulus-black-223048 @dingusfreakhxrrington @sluttt444slashersss @little-miss-blinder @fdl305 @feltonswifesworld87 @sunsetlarry @lovelyvante @rintheemolion @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @dashneydanger @namelesslizz @malindacath @sleepy-enby16 @itzteaganbitch @baubarbie @rippl3s @kokoterainonago666 @mizzysx @princess-of-the-snake-pit @cvrosstuff @coldheartedmar @fudge13 @mushy-mushroom04 @live-laugh-love-spencerreid @crazy4chickennuggets @lundenloves @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sapphireplums @no-soy-fer @haleyshue97 @rippl3s @writingliv @poppetbaby02 @not-feeling-so-good @mizzysx @reidssweatervest @gabxbyr @tayswozle @mslowlife @spencybear @brightlilith

@happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog  @lover-of-books-and-tea  /  @bunny-script    / @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @ceeellewrites /  @randommmguerr / @sinnxagain / @goofygubler7 / @alotdreamers / @resident-boygenius / @nibb  / @coffeemochicat / @tyblackthornsheadphones @gublerstwilight @iamreallytryingiswear @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @actingchica @illegallygingerr @uhuhuh  @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420  @one-sweet-gubler @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @ummvengers @parahmur @whovianayesha @love3babies @simonsnowsblog @geekykeen @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @flipperpenguins @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @altogeek16 @nervous-plant @safespacespence @maraudersminds @bakugouswh0r3  @ilovespencerreidmarryme @fangirling-galore @ah-blossom @matthewgraygublerlover @happypixy380 @alohastitch0626 @nyx2021   @assemblemotherfuckers @hwngslove @helen-with-an-a  @sia2raw @hufflepuffwhore13 @pastelbabygirl19 @chazubagi @spencerreidsmommy @blomfildsbeauty @urbestgrrl @hagridsmomma @alexxavicry @eichenhouseproperty @langcvn @paperbackprettyboy @spencersprettyslut @devilslilbabysblog @padf00ts-l0ver @pancake2603 @lonnie2390147 @nyenye @mrshoranhmm @honey-stark @an0bra1n @jordierama @bellenotthebeast​ @darkenwolfie @jellycolors @obviouslyfred @neptunes-curse @cloudxxs  

[whynot-tryit]

Angel of Small Death

Chapter 2

Summary: You start working on helping Ghost fix his sleep schedule and make slow but steady progress. The captain takes notice and decides to go to you to help him with the same problem

Word count: 4,627

Warnings: medical inaccuracies, talk of insomnia, talk of nightmares, elusion to masturbation, elusion to sex, touching, ummm I think thats it lmk if theres something I missed.

——————————————————-

It’s been closing on two weeks of you working with 141, the long corridors of the base have become somewhat familiar. You’ve slowly but surely been making your room fit to your standards, some low lighting from some candles and lamps, you hated the overhead lights that came with the room. Some soft blankets and pillows. The candles were strictly against the rules but they were your little secret, not like you were inviting people over to be able to snitch on you about it. 

The boys have made you feel at home, inviting you to eat with them during meal times when you weren’t bound to your office trying to organize all their medical records and setting up a timeline for check ups and routine vaccines and tests. 

Soap was the talker of the group, filling the silence most times and making actual intellectual conversations the other times. Gaz was still not that much of a talker, mostly coming out of his shell to agree with something one of the other boys had said or to call out Soap on his bullshit. Ghost was basically a shadow- he was there physically but not there in any other sense. John didn’t usually come to meal times. He was almost always in his office, you had never even heard any of the boys mention his living quarters which made a knot grow in your stomach when you thought about it. Did he live on base? He had to, most likely. Did he sleep in his office? He was still a stranger- a handsome one at that- but the thought made you unhappy to even think about. 

When you had originally met with Ghost you had made somewhat of a game plan to try to aid him with his insomnia. You had come to learn that he had issues falling asleep, staying asleep, and avoiding nightmares. You were glad they weren’t night terrors, that would’ve been even harder to help him with. Most of the meeting was taken up with a number of questions of things he had previously tried that surprisingly got you a deeper look into who he was. 

He had tried tea, but found the taste of chamomile to be sickening. Lemon balm tea was too strong for his nose, along with peppermint tea. He had liked lavender tea but found it hard to buy it out of the sight of his teammates, finding it embarrassing. He slept with his mask on, regardless of the heat and never under any blankets- no matter how cold. His adamancy about not resorting to drugs held you back quite a bit but you reassured him you’d try your best. 

You started with black out curtains, courtesy of the small fund the medical bay was allowed to use. You had delivered them to Ghost’s room yourself, the look in his eyes when he had first opened the door for you was almost enough to send you running but you stood your ground. He was thankfully handy enough to be able to install them himself. While in his room you had taken notice that he had not moved the furniture in the room at all, the bed located against the middle of the wall you are faced with as soon as you walk in the room. It took a lot of convincing but you got him to move the bed in the corner, he would sleep facing the door- easy to spot an intruder, and safe enough to not have to worry about someone sneaking up behind him. 

That same visit you had brought him another surprise, a kettle and three boxes of lavender tea. Ghost was deeply touched by the action, he hadn’t explicitly told you about the embarrassment of going to the kitchen on base at two or three in the morning to make himself a cup of tea. The smell would waft through the halls on his way back and there had been multiple times he had made the whole walk just to get himself a cup of water instead once he realized how many men were there. 

“I can buy them for you, the boys don’t need to know.” 

He responded the way he usually did, the way he had since you first met him- with silence. You’d have to admit that you would usually have to see someone's whole face to be able to read them but Ghost’s eyes were surprisingly loud. The gratitude, the hesitance, the timidness that he’d stare at you with were enough. You had set up the kettle and boxes on his desk, now he didn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen to make himself a cup. “I know it’s not a proper cup of tea but hopefully it's enough.” 

“It’s enough.” His response was airy, almost like the ending of a chuckle. It ends up being the first night that he only wakes up once in months. 

You can see his shoulders are less tense and the bags under his eyes- when not covered in black face paint- look better after a few weeks. You get him a decent pillow next. It wasn’t a medical diagnosis on your part, men were known to have unbearably flat pillows, like the fluffiness of then had been beaten out of them. So after noticing that Ghost was one of those men, who owned such pillows, you had bought nice fluffy ones- just two. Sturdy enough to where his head would still be above his shoulders when he laid on his side. You made sure to get ones that had that cooling stuff, so that his mask wouldn’t make him overheat while he was asleep. 

The gift was left by his door, you had been in a rush and didn’t have the time to knock and come in but Ghost knew it was you, the next step in your treatment for him. It's the first time he falls asleep in less than an hour in what seemed like years, maybe.

At this point it was nearing over a month that you had been there. Ghost had been going from multiple cups of black coffee to an occasional one with maybe a pack of sugar here and there. This stark difference did not go unnoticed, especially from the captain who often made his next cup of coffee a few feet away from him almost every morning.  

…

John’s eyes watch over the hulking masked figure as he shakes out a sugar packet before ripping off the top and dumping it out into the mug of dark liquid. He sets a hand down onto the counter while the other brings his own mug up to his lips as he takes a sip, brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you liked sugar in your coffee, lieutenant.”

Ghost grunts, “I don’t, but the coffee tastes like shite more than usual.”

That earns him a chuckle from the captain before Ghost makes his way to a seat at the wooden table a few feet away. He takes the seat at the end, keeping a distance away from Soap and Gaz who are slowly but surely picking away at their food. John watches the boys for a second, his eyes finding their way back to Ghost. He seemed chirpier than normal, at least as much as he can get. He hadn’t reached for the bottom of his mask to chug his coffee before pouring himself another one like normal. The mug still sat in his hands, situated in his lap. Almost like he was nursing it, savoring the taste instead of biting the bullet and drinking it for the sole purpose of the energy boost. 

You had made it a habit to join the boys for a cup of coffee, talking about what your plans were for the day before you went to the med bay. You round the corner and make your way to the counter, in the same vicinity of John to make your usual cup. You liked sweet things, always have- although you saved your guilty pleasure until you really needed them but coffee was the one thing you indulged in at least once a day. You put a heaping amount of milk until the liquid was a light brown color before grabbing two sugar packets and shaking them out. 

“You gonna have any coffee with that cup of milk, love?”

You giggle, “Wow, never heard that one before, Cap” You give him a small side eye before ripping off the top of the sugar packets and dumping them into the concoction. You take a finger and swirl the liquid around until you feel like it was mixed together enough for your liking and bring the finger up to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit- the taste of the sweet coffee hitting your taste buds. You pull your finger out of your mouth with a pop before looking over at John. “Probably tastes better than yours anyway.” 

He watches your retreating figure as you find a seat by the boys, easily slipping into conversation with them. John’s eyes look over the four of you, settling specifically on you- watching you silently sip on your drink.

Thoughts of you had been plaguing him for weeks, going over the interaction between the two of you. You technically didn’t work under him, you worked with him- helped him. You gave him a sense of comfort that went far beyond what was in your job description, that had to mean something. Maybe that's what you're doing- all that you’re doing, being nice. The hesitance of him acting on his feelings have been holding him back. He’s finally had time to look over your file, you’re younger than him by a good amount. Maybe you just saw him as a sweet old man, your captain but nothing more. It’s been keeping him up at night, at least more than his other problems usually do.

Price had been lost in his thoughts for a bit, when his eyes finally focused on the group Soap and Gaz are getting up- nodding a goodbye before walking out. You shift yourself in the chair to whisper something to Ghost with a small smile, the mask seems to shift over the lower part of his face. The exchange of words doesn't reach Price’s ears and his brows furrow. What were you guys talking about?

You seem to end the conversation with a final word and rise up to your feet and throw a small wave over your shoulder to John, making your way to the door with the mug still in your hands. Ghost seems to sit for a few still minutes before pulling up the edge of his mask to take a sip of his coffee. 

“What was that about?” John had made his way over to the table, taking a seat and spreading his thighs. Ghost grunts a questioning sound. 

“What were you and the Doc talking about?” John didn’t want to pressure the man to talk but he was interested. Ghost pulls his mask down after another sip before opening his mouth to speak. “She’s been helping me out.” John’s eyebrows raise. Is that why he’s been drinking less black coffee? He had seen Ghost acting a lot more friendly than usual, chuckling at something Soap had said, less aggressive criticism while training, and overall a lot more awake. He wasn’t bouncing off the wall but his eyes looked better, the bags under them improving as well.

“Are you sleeping?” The question is almost whispered, lower than most of the words they’ve exchanged so far. John had known Ghost for years. He’s seen his face on some occasions and was given the opportunity to know his real name. Brothers, almost- rather than just teammates. There had been multiple times- on missions- when they were a mere few feet away from each other and had woken up in a sweat due to their nightmares. It came with the job.

Ghost fiddles with the mug on the table, “I sleep better than I did before, I’ll say that much.” 

……………………

You had briefly asked Ghost if he had used the pillows you had left for him. He had kindly but quietly said yes, and a small brief thank you. It was actually the first real thank you you’ve seemed to have gotten since first moving to the base. You worked somewhat side by side with the rest of the medical team but they were often rude and rushed. You somewhat had the feeling that they were upset with the fact that Laswell decided to bring someone from outside the base instead of just picking someone on base to work with 141. The feeling hasn't exactly been proven but it was still there, hiding in the shadows of your thoughts.

There was a small office space that had been given to you on the outskirts of the med bay, almost like your own little doctor's office. You loved it, it was small but in a way you were fond of. Most of your time since getting here had been to go over test results, Gaz had tested for anemia and was put on a supplement, Soap’s hearing was only a decimal under average, and well Ghost seemed like he was finally getting sleep. The captain, who had been taking up most of the space in your brain, in a completely unprofessional way- didn’t really have anything to attend to in a medical way.

You place your pen down on the desk and run your hands over your face before placing them under your chin, elbows resting on your desk. You were thinking about it again, about him. There would be moments where you would find yourself smiling to yourself, thinking of him. Or you’d stare off into that small piece of peeling wall paint in the corner, going over the small interaction again and again. Maybe if you could come up with something that would get him into your office, something he could complain about enough to come and talk to you about. You let out a sigh once the thought hits you. This is so unprofessional.

But God, the things you wanted to do to that man, the things you wanted him to do to you, were definitely not professional. You wanted to ram your head straight into the wooden frame under you just to get it out of your head.

 A soft knock bursts you out of your thought bubble and you turn your head to look at the doorway. John still has his hand slightly raised to the door but slowly puts it down before giving you a friendly smile. Fuck me.

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

You splutter out an of course. “Is there something I can help you with, John?”

He takes a couple steps into the room before coming to a halt and crossing his arms across his chest, void of his tactical vest. You try not to stare at the way the ripples in his shirt stretch over the expanse of his shoulders and chest. “I was speaking to Ghost earlier, you’ve been helping him?” 

You’re sitting in a slightly more comfortable stool than last time but still pretty low, you have to crane your neck just a little to meet his eyes. You start to fiddle with your fingers. “Yeah, just some home remedies and stuff, to help him sleep.” 

Since the captain hasn’t been wandering around the base, you take it he’s quite a busy man- you haven’t updated him on any of the treatments you’ve been giving to the rest of 141. A part of you wonders if that's what he’s here about. “I’m sorry if that was something I was supposed to keep you updated on, you seem like a busy man. I didn’t want to interrupt you in your office.”

Your fidgeting becomes even worse, picking at your nail beds with your hands in your lap. John glances a look down at them, he feels a tad bit of guilt for making you nervous. He moves to take a seat in an abandoned chair in the corner, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “You’re alright, don’t worry.” A calloused hand comes up to scratch at the side of his face, through his beard. “I was actually here about something else.”

It’s like a flip switch in you. Your training kicks in and you use a hand to push yourself away from the desk, slowly coming to a stop a few feet in front of him still seated in your chair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, love.” He chuckles. “It’s the same thing as Ghost, not as bad though.” You hum before scooting an extra foot or two back. “Stand up.”

John’s eyebrows raise in a look of surprise but gets up, his arms idly staying by his sides. Should he put them in his pockets? The thought itches his brain and he starts to move them to do so. 

You stand, now crossing your arms. “Do you have nightmares?” The question hangs in the air for a couple seconds while you slowly make your way around John. You circle him, trying to get a good look at all of him- trying to find anything that you can use to help him. “Not usually, especially after a glass or a cigar.” He’s tense, your eyes are tracing him- from his shoulders, to his back, his fitted waist in the cargo pants he’s wearing all the way down to his feet. You let out a light laugh before you come up in front of him again. “Are you having problems falling asleep or staying asleep?” 

You look him directly in his eyes while you ask him the question. “Falling asleep.” He gives you a tight lipped smile. Your feet start moving again, walking in a circle around him once more. John was strong, his stance told you that much. His shoulders were tense, your eyes trail down his back. “Do you have someone at home helping you when you can’t sleep?”

John turns his head, trying to catch a glimpse of you behind him. You take notice of his neck, he doesn’t seem to be able to get a good look behind him, at least not without turning his whole body. He seems surprised by the question, trying to get a coherent thought out of his mouth to answer you. “Don’t have anyone waiting for me if that's what you’re asking me, love.”

You had asked the same question to Ghost when you were doing your initial interrogation, it was quite awkward but it was essential in your treatment. You don’t know if that was gonna be a good thing or a bad thing with John.

“I have to ask you.” You feel a heat run up your neck and into your check and you try to fight a smile while you finally are in front of him again. “What's your sex life like?” 

John's chest shakes with laughter, it's the first time you’ve heard the real thing. It's like it's coming out from deep within him and you have to bite your lip to not let out the same sound. “Don’t have much time for that.” His eyes are still crinkled, those crows feet peeking out at you yet again. “Well are you at least getting it out of your system?” 

“Why would you like to know, love?” 

You have to clear your throat a little because of the look he’s giving you, his eyes are boring right into you- arms now back to being crossed. “It can help you fall asleep, especially if the reason for you not falling asleep stems from anxiety or stress.” It takes almost everything in you to hold his eyes with your own. Your face feels like it's on fire.

“I’m alright in that aspect, love.” John is fighting off another smile, it’s adorable seeing you this way. He wants to see it more.

You lick your lips before resurfacing to the conversation to add another question. “Do you get any headaches?” You slip your hands into the pockets of your scrub top, anxious to do something with your hands while his eyes are still on you. He gives you a hum as a yes. “Are they usually towards the back of your head?” 

“Yeah, does that mean something?” 

You slowly make your way slightly behind him and raise a hand, lightly touching the base of his head, almost the start of his neck. “Right around here?” 

Besides the time John shook your hand and you had touched his neck, there wasn’t any physical touch when it came to the two of you. Did you really have to touch the area to ask him if if hurt there? No. Did you want an excuse to touch him? Yes, a hundred percent yes. Was that probably unprofessional? Most likely yes. 

You add a little pressure with the tips of your finger into the tense spot and John winces. You let out a small sorry but slowly tiptoe your fingers down the back of his neck, follow the trail of muscles until they reach almost to his shoulder blade. You add the same amount of pressure as before but now in a new spot and you hear John let out what almost sounds like a sound of relief. His arms have slowly uncrossed and his shoulders slump a little at the feeling. 

“I thought you said massages were part of the deluxe package?” John says with a chuckle. 

“Let’s call it the captain treatment for now, just until you upgrade.” You move to grab the stool you were previously sitting on and motion for him to take a seat. John does so, his head comes to rest just at eye level with your chest and you try to stop your stomach from doing somersaults at the seemingly innocent occurrence. You move to get behind him and continue the little massage. 

You focus more on the right side of his neck and he cranes his neck to the left to give you enough space. Your other hand comes around to cradle the left side of his face, his facial hair rough against the palm of your hand. John takes a sharp inhale at the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face. “Is this okay?” You don’t mean for your question to come out in the form of a whisper, you’re only a few inches away from his ear, trying to massage the tenseness out of his neck, slowly making your way to his shoulder. “This is perfect, love.” 

John’s voice is breathless, almost gruff and the sound of it makes your stomach flip. You try to swallow down the saliva that's suddenly over powering the space in your mouth. 

You make your way to the left side of his neck, now cradling the right side of his head in your hand while the other one makes work in his tense muscles. John slightly winces and you let out a hushed apology. “I got you.” 

You don’t know why you said it, maybe to provide some sense of reassurance but your small whispered voice hits John’s ears. He fights back a full body shiver from your voice. He gulps and you can feel the action through his skin with your hands. It’s an innocent thing really but the touches seem more intimate than intended, the words adding fuel to the fire. 

The tense muscles finally give away underneath the tips of your fingers and you slowly move them away, already craving the feeling of his skin- his beard underneath your hands again. “That should be good.” You give yourself one more chance and give him a soft squeeze on both of his shoulders, the feeling their broadness almost makes your knees weak. 

John takes a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to feel the new lightness on his back. “Do I have to pay extra to get that again?” He laughs. You come around his body- back to your desk and lean your back against it. “Maybe come back and say please and I’ll think about it.” 

His eyes are soft, gratitude radiates off of him and you feel it, offering him a kind smile. “Let me know how you sleep for the next two or three days and then we’ll see if there's anything else I can do.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” John knows he should probably make his way out of the room, say thanks and push the intimate moment to the depths of the folds of his brain but he can’t seem to do it. He wants to be in your presence longer, hear your voice more, anything with you. 

He clears his throat. “How has the base been treating you?” He almost winces at the stupid question. The urge to punch himself is strong but he pushes it down. 

“It’s alright, I think I’ve gotten the hang of things. The rest of the medical staff haven’t gotten used to me yet but I think they’ll warm up to me soon.”

“They haven’t said anything wrong to you, have they?” The kind look on John's face disappears once he hears your words, a stoic look now replacing it. 

“No, they haven’t.” You giggle. “Plus you and the boys are more than welcoming. I’ll be okay.” 

John knows he hasn’t been as present to your new environment as he’d like to be. He’s cramped inside his office for most of the time, in a completely different part of the base. “Well, you know I’m here if anything. Anything you need at all, love.” 

You glance down at your feet- trying to hide the blush you feel rushing up to your cheeks. Fuck, he’s good at that- making you blush.

“We can meet in my office, go over some of the treatments and preventions for the team.” John’s pretty sure Laswell had mentioned that he should meet with you once a week, maybe once every other week to go over your reports and overall the health of the team. It was one of her tactics in persuading him to look into hiring you. It wouldn’t take a lot out of his schedule, or at least it shouldn’t. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you any busier than you already are.” The idea sounds lovely. Time to get to know him, less time in your office and away from the rest of the medical staff. John pushes himself out of the stool, coming to stand in front of you. “Don’t worry your little pretty head about it. How does next week sound?” 

You probably look like a fish out of water, at least that's what you think. First love and now this? He was trying to kill you.”Yeah, that sounds good.” You sound breathless, rightfully so- your heart is beating out of control- in your throat, your chest, maybe even in your stomach. 

John strides to the door, “I’ll see you then, love. Goodnight.” He flashes one more smile before turning past the doorway and down the hall. You barely have time to throw out your own good night. 

You stand there for what feels like an hour, chewing at your bottom lip. It has to be some kind of crime to be that charming. When you finally regain the sturdy feeling of your legs you gather your things and try to head back to your room for a good night's sleep. You’re definitely gonna have to take care of yourself tonight to make sure you can sleep at all after that. 

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

A/N: I just wanna say thank you so much for all the notes on the first chapter, you guys are so cute and sweet. I added everyone who asked to be on a taglist, some even messaged me directly and tbh I don't know how to answer those without posting it for everyone to see so I didn't wanna do that incase they didn't want others to see their message. I am also so excited for the next two chapters, I have some good ideas planned that I am so excited to share with y'all. I hope you enjoy! Love you guys!

Taglist: @sharkiestory @midwesternwitchery @lavenderhhze @thriving-n-jiving @rivalriotrenegade @bitchoftoji @wasteland-babe @chloepluto1306 @sagewtff @not-so-innocent-now @scuftryo 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Hi there. I'm sorry if I'm doing this the wrong way. I've never requested anything before. (i want to put a trigger warning for self harm)

I was wondering if you could do a Kate Bishop and female reader angst/comfort where they've been dating for a bit. Kate comes home early from duty with cliny to surprise her and finds her self harming. If you can't or its too dark I understand. I struggle with self injury and a story with Kate comforting her girlfriend who struggles with mental health sounds nice.

Scars to Your Beautiful

Summary: You thought you had time to get it under control, a dark secret that not even your girlfriend knew about. But now she knows.

Please read the warnings as some topics in the this story can be triggering for some. As always you are enough and I am here if you need someone to talk to!

Warning: mention of past and current self harm, act of self harm, verbal abuse from parents, anxiety, Kate being a good girlfriend, reader has bad mental health

Word Count: 3.2k

“Sweetheart,” you looked up at your girlfriend’s voice. Her eyes flicked to yours and the small razor blade in your hand. What was she doing at home? She was earlier.

5 Days Ago

You dropped your bag to the ground with a groan. It seemed heavier daily, but you were one step closer to graduating. Then you would be free—free from strict professors, free from anxiously waiting for a paper or test to be graded to pop up on the portal, free from the endless pressure your parents placed on your shoulders to carry on your family’s legacy.

You slumped down on the couch, and your girlfriend’s dog rested his head on your lap. The action made you smile. “Hi, Lucky baby,” you whispered, scratching his head. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. “When do you think your mom is going to be home?” The one-eyed Golden Retriever jumped on the couch and laid on you, forcing you to lay back. “Lucky,” you laughed. “I have to do homework.” Instead of getting up, he placed his head on your chest and closed his. “Unbelievable,” you mumbled, but his breathing soon brought you to an unwanted nap.

Soft fingers running through your hair slowly woke you up. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and saw Kate with a smile on her face. “Hi, sleepy,” she teased. “How was your nap?”

“Good but unwanted,” you sat up and put your arms around her neck. “Your dog held me hostage and forced me to take a nap,” you felt her body shake from laughter, and her arms locked you into place. “Katie,” you whined. “I have to get up and do homework and cook dinner.”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’. “Homework can wait, and I ordered food. So now you can cuddle with your girlfriend.” You huffed, but Kate pouted her lips and gave you the best puppy dog eyes.

“Cuddling does something nice,” you gave in and rested your head on the crook of her neck. Kate reached for the remote and played the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy. You loved these moments. With her training, your classwork, and other extracurricular, it was hard to have these moments of peace. Still, anxiety began to creep into your bones as the seconds ticked to minutes, and the list of assignments was not getting any smaller. Kate touched your neck and dug her fingers into the knots. You melted against her. It was unfair how easily she could turn you into a puddle. You stayed there until the food was delivered and had to part away from the warmth of your girlfriend to eat your Chinese food. She allowed you to change the show to SVU while you ate.

“I leave for a mission tomorrow morning,” you said, dropping the chopsticks you were using. They said it should be about a week.” A week without her would be the longest you both would be apart.

“Whose going with you?” You asked.

“It’s a small team—me, Kamala, America, and Peter.” The urge to ask more died on your lips. Kate never told you what the missions were in the name of keeping you safe. It was hard to wonder, especially when nightmares woke her, and you had to clean her wounds. Instead of rattling off a hundred and one questions, you placed your food on the small table and wrapped your arms around her.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me in one piece.” It was a hard promise to keep, but you needed to hear her say.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she kissed your temple. “You are my home, my one and only. I’ll always come back to you.”

*

The universe must have liked fucking with you. As soon as Kate left for her mission, one bad thing happened after another. You received a horrible grade on a group project you were stressing over because your other members-only did the bare minimum for their part. Pleading your case to your professor fell on deaf ears because you passed. A passing grade wasn’t good enough. You needed to be perfect.

Then, your internship kept piling more and more work on you because they claimed you were the most responsible and could handle the workload. The cherry on top of the shitty sundae was a phone call from your mother.

“It seems that Dr. Narvaez hasn’t received your application,” you rolled your eyes at your mother’s tone. “Is there a reason for that?” Lucky greeted you at the door, making walking into Kate’s apartment difficult. But you greeted the one-eyed dog with a forced smile and a pat on the head. You toed off your sneakers and dropped down at the small table.

“Because I didn’t send it in,” your confession was met with silence. Sometimes, you preferred your parents constantly yelling or belittling you over the silence.

“And why is that?” You played with an arrowhead that Kate left.

“I don’t know if I want to work for Dr. Narvaez,” you said honestly. He was a friend of your father’s and owned a private practice catering to high-end clients. It would be good money but different from the work you wanted to do. You wanted to help people, not rich saps who wanted Botox.

“Are you serious? Your father gave up a lot to secure you that spot.” You bit your lip, stopping the sigh. It was what they wanted, not you.

“I want a break,” you told her and crossed your arms on top of the table. “Kate and I are thinking about taking a vacation.” The Bishops had a cabin up north, and she wanted to take you right there after graduation. She scuffed at the mention of your girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That girl doesn’t know what’s best for you. Not like your father and I,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. It was the same argument every time. “If you do not work with Dr. Narvaez, you will not have a successful future. You will amount to nothing. You will not only be a failure to yourself but your father, brother, and me.” This type of rant was what you were used to with her. Not praise or support or a gentle reminder that she loved you. All she would do was remind you of how much of a failure you were. If she said it so many times, it had to be true. Right?

Your mother’s degrading words echoed in your head. Worthless. Stupid. You were a disgrace. An embarrassment to the family, and you were going to amount to nothing. You were a mistake. A nobody compared to your brother. They consumed you. Everything seemed to spiral out of control. You needed some aspect of it back. It was a behavior you weren’t proud of that started in middle school. For the six months you were with Kate, you had no need to resort to destructive habits. Kate grounded you. She kept all the negative thoughts away. You found the razor blade in your jewelry box. A hidden compartment at the bottom was perfect because Kate had gone through it all the time.

So you sat on your shared bed with your pant legs rolled up. Your fingertips danced over the faint scars that decorated your skin. Sometimes, Kate traced the lines but never asked where they came from. It was second nature as you moved the sharp razor across your skin. The red of your blood bubbled to the surface. The pressure you’ve felt for the past day and a half disappeared. Finally, you felt like you had control.

The behavior continued over the next two days. Every time you brought the blade out, you promised yourself it would be the last time. It never was, but you had time to get your habit back under control. You had three days, then Kate would be home, and you wouldn’t need it anymore. You had to get everything under control, so you thought.

Present day

“What-what are you doing back?” You asked. You tried to keep your voice steady, but panic raced through your body.

“We got done early,” her voice was surprisingly calm. “I wanted to surprise you.” Her hair was damp, and she was dressed in a purple tracksuit. She must have taken a shower at the tower and rushed over here. Slowly, she closed the distance between you and here. There was enough space so you wouldn’t feel trapped. “Sweetheart, can you hand me that?” She pointed to the razor in your hand. On instinct, you gripped the blade, and you felt it cut your hand. “Please, baby, give it to me.” Her voice was firm, but you heard the plead.

“Katie,” you whimpered and dropped the blade into her outstretched hand. The world seemed to collapse around you. Your legs began to shake, and Kate caught you before you hit the ground. No tears fell from your eyes. A blanket of numbness covered your body.

“I’m going to lift you so we can get you all clean, okay?” You nodded, unable to open your mouth. Your stomach dropped as Kate quickly picked you up and walked to the bathroom. Goosebumps formed on your skin when she set you down and turned to get the first aid kit. Her body shook as she exhaled, looking at the new cuts on your thighs. “This may hurt, but I’ll be gentle, okay?” Again, you gave her another nod. You expected the sting of the antiseptic, but you felt nothing. How long have you been numb to it?

“None are very deep so that you won’t need stitches,” Kate explained. You knew that. Even in your mind-numbing haze, you knew to be careful. There was one night during high school when you cut too deep and stole your father’s suture kit. You learned that night your hands were steady enough to become a surgeon. “I’m going to clean your hand now,” without a response, she didn’t reach to take it. “Baby,” you forced yourself to look into her blue eyes. “Can I see your hand?” You nodded and gave it to her. There was a small cut, nothing compared to the ones on your legs. She cleaned it, placed a badge, and kissed your hand. “I’m going to ask you something, and I won’t be made no matter the answer as long as you are honest with me. Are there others?”

You wanted to lie. All you had to do was say no, and when she went to bed, you could clean the cuts that scattered your arms, but the lie tasted like poison. It made your stomach twist and throat constrict. Before Kate, lying about this was easy. It flowed off your tongue so quickly that even you believed it. With a quick nod, you tugged off your long-sleeved shirt. It was one of Kate’s old college shirts. Your girlfriend scanned your upper half. Again, her body shook as she exhaled. “Okay, thank you for being honest with me, baby. I’m going to clean these too.” You nodded as she kissed your forehead.

Quickly, you put your hand on the back of her neck and kept her close. You knew they needed adequately cleaned, but you needed her close. Everything felt so cold. “Tell me what you need,” she said.

“Need you,” you mumbled. “Katie,” you whined. “Please.” Your throat burned as you tried to keep your tears at bay. Kate hushed you and brought you into a tight hug.

“I’m right here, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.”

Once Kate deemed every cut was cleaned, she helped you change into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. She carried you to the living room, sat on the couch, and covered you with a blanket. You whined when she pulled away. “I’m going to order food and get you some water. I’ll be right back.” You wanted to protest. She just returned from a mission, and you should be caring for her, but there was no energy in your body. When she entered the kitchen, Lucky jumped on the couch beside you. You ran our fingers through his fur.

The action was mind-numbing, the repetitive motion of his fur through your fingers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but Kate returned with a pizza box, and Lucky jumped to the ground. He wasn’t far, just by your feet. “Are you hungry?” She asked. You were, but your stomach twisted and turned. Dark thoughts filled your mind of how undeserving you were. “Just a few bites. I got your favorite.” She opened the box, and it was your favorite. You took a small piece, and with every bite, Kate kissed your forehead and whispered positive words in your ear. You had another slice, and once Kate ate, she put her arm around your shoulders and brought you closer. A conversation was on the horizon, but you were in no mood to talk about what led you here. It would only lead you to spiral more.

“I know we have to talk,” your voice was soft. “Can it wait? I want to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” you felt her sigh. “I love you, baby girl. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Katie.”

*

You woke up in your shared bed with Kate. The archer was fast asleep, and at some point, she separated from you in the night. You smiled at how peaceful she looked so different from when she came home. You got out of bed as quietly as possible and went to the kitchen - making breakfast was the least you could do. There was little in the fridge. In your slow mental breakdown, you failed to fill the fridge. Come to think of it, that pizza you ate was your first meal since Kate left for her mission. God, your mother was right. You were worthless.

Deep within the freezer, you found a bag of frozen fruit and decided to make an acai bowl. So you divided the fruit, making sure Kate had more strawberries than blackberries, and placed it in the blender with some Greek yogurt. Thankfully, Kate was a heavy sleeper, and as the mixture was being blended, you started a fresh pot of coffee. Once it was blended, you poured the mixture into bowls.

It was on instinct. You picked up the two still-good bananas and the knife from the drawer. It was an action you’ve done 100 times, but this morning you hesitated.

Your eyes were trained on the knife every time you cut the fruit. It was dangerous to be this close to something sharp after last night. Dark and dangerous thoughts started to fill your head. You wondered how the knife you held would differ from the small razor blade you used. It could be deadly. “Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly and set the knife down as your hands shook. “Sit, please. I made breakfast.” She sat at the table, and you placed the cut-up banana on top with some leftover granola you found. You brought it over to her with a coffee, and you quickly turned around to get your breakfast and return to her. You ate in silence. Occasionally, Kate would grab your hand and squeeze it. You wondered if she needed the reminder that you were here.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said and sipped your coffee. “I thought I’d get it under control before you came back.” Kate moved her thumb on the back of your hand.

“How long has this been going on?” You sighed, brought your knee up to your chest, and rested your chin on top.

“Since middle school, but I stopped when we got together. You made me feel grounded despite all the pressure and stress,” you explained. “When you went on the mission, one bad thing happened after the other.”

“Tell me what happened,” you told her about your lousy grade from your professor, the extra work your internship pilled on you, and the comments your family made. When you brought up your family, Kate tried to keep her face neutral, but her blue eyes turned stormy. She’s met your parents a handful of times and you knew how much she hated how they treated you. Once you were done with your story, it sounded foolish. It was typical pre-adult responsibilities; people were going through much worse. But Kate had a soft smile that almost caused the dame you were holding to break.

“You are so loved, baby girl. You are smart, beautiful, and kind. My world is so much brighter with you in it,” you felt your bottom lip tremble. Still, it was hard for you to believe. “Come with me,” she pulled you to your feet and towards the bathroom downstairs. She flicked on the lights and put you in front of the mirror. Her arms wrapped around your waist. “Look in the mirror,” you struggled to say, but you looked at yourself in the mirror. “My beautiful girl,” she mumbled, kissing the part of your skin uncovered by the hoodie. Her hands were warm as they moved under your hoodie and rested on your stomach. The warmth made you melt against your girlfriend’s solid frame. “I will say some sentences, and I want you to repeat them for me. Can you do that for me, baby?” You were a little hesitant but nodded. However, Kate gave you a stern look that said use your words.

“Yes, Kit Kat,” you smiled, using the nickname she hated. She tickled your sides, and your laughter danced off the bathroom walls.

“Okay, okay,” she said once your laughter turned to quiet giggles. Kate let out a shaky breath and turned her attention to the reflection. “I am strong,” you pouted when she expected you to say it back. It wasn’t true. You weren’t strong. At this moment, you felt so weak. “Come on, sweetheart, say it back to me.” You sighed.

“I am strong,” you mumbled. There was no belief in your words but Kate kissed your cheek.

“Good. I’m so proud of you. Alright, next one. I am smart,” she continued with more phrases. Each one was different from the next, but they had the same idea: I am confident, brave, and loved. Every time you repeated a phrase back, your voice was stronger, and a small part of you started to believe it. “Last one, beautiful,” she whipped away your tears with her thumb. I am enough.”

“Katie,” you whimpered. It was almost painful to say or believe. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” she squeezed you tight. “Say it.” She encouraged you and rested her chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes. “I am enough.”

“I am,” Worthless. A disgrace. Dumb. “I am enough.” It was so soft. “I am enough.” The second time was stronger. “I am,” Loved. Beautiful. Strong. Brave. “Enough. I am enough,” you cried. Kate was quick to turn you around and pulled you into her arms. You clung onto her back as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“You are baby. You are enough, and I will remind you every single day.” It was hard to believe. After years and years of verbal abuse from your family, those thoughts weren’t going to disappear overnight. But you were stronger than them. You were better than them. You were enough.

[lvlyghost]

Maybe Someday

PAIRINGS: John Price x F!Reader

SUMMARY: She never expected to see him again, but months after their breakup they find each other.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

TW: suggestive themes, angst, hurt/little comfort. heartbreak. lovers to(? 3rd pov. think that's it.

A/N: just something that came to my mind today whilst in the middle of a storm. enjoy!

Masterlist✨

The soft pitter-patter of rain above her dampens her hair.

The Big Ben marks the hour.

Six o'clock.

A gentle breeze that blows her strands in different directions; she shouldn't have come, shouldn't have agreed to this meeting. God knows it'd be painful. But she came, she showed up, and maybe bringing an umbrella would've been a good idea, not that she cares. She hasn't felt a thing for months now, stuck in a permanent state of numbness, the sky's dark and people around her run away from the rain. But not her. She waits as the cool air hits the uncovered flesh of her legs, resulting in goosebumps and a shiver that travels through her body.

And then the rain's gone, her sight partially blocked out. A warm body behind radiating enough heat; she remembers it. It's familiar. Eyes threatened to close and take in the well known sense of belonging. She knows him like the back of her hand.

"Eager to catch a cold, aren't you?" heart beating fast at the sound of his voice, deep and raspy. Breathing deeply she spun around facing a big broad chest, strong shoulders and a beard. Her eyes drift all the way up until she finds his face, those baby blues she was enamored with. "Rain's coming down hard, yeah?" The corners of his lips quirk up in a faint smile. 'Was he just as nervous as her?' Was he remembering all the things both had gone through? The nostalgia in his orbs glowing.

"John." She greets him at last.

Her voice is music to his ears. The same tone, the same softness and quietness. Something he loved. Soothing his nightmares away.

His bad days.

When he saw her standing alone, arms crossed over her waist, staring up at the sky in that bloody outfit. He almost wanted to scold her for her poor choice of clothing. The dark green jacket did little to nothing to protect her from the weather. Her bottom barely covered her legs.

"Love." He whispered back, leaning over her ever so slightly, something that has her sucking down a sharp breath. The black attire he wears only serves to make his eyes even more blue. Like the blue of the sea in Mykonos. John hesitates for a second but eventually offers his much better dark coat to her to which she refuses. He sighs, closing his eyes and opening them back again. "I believe you've got something for me."

From a black purse she takes out a manila envelope, trying not to think about how close he's standing, feet almost touching.

"Kate apologizes for not delivering it herself. But she's quite busy right now." She explains as John examines the envelope with curious eyes. "Said she'll reach out to you as soon as she's able."

Stuffing her hands in her pockets she chewed down on her lower lip, something that doesn't go unnoticed by John.

"You alright, love?" she freezes. Eyes boring into hers. She knows what he's truly asking. What he so desperately wants to know. The things that were left unsaid...

Give me a sign. Just one.

"Apparently the CIA wants nothing to do with this. So they're passing it on to someone who may get the job done...-"

He interrupts her, her name leaves his lips in a hushed voice that reminds her of shared late nights at his loft.

"Please... you know you can tell me. It don't matter what happened to us."

-

Sweet moans bounce around the place. The headboard that slams against the wall with every thrust of his hips. His fingers intertwined with hers. John's lips kissing down her neck. The sound of skin against skin. Hands that leave marks on his back, that he would proudly wear tomorrow morning as the everything that could have been.

Another blink of her eyes and she lays on her side, facing him as tears roll down her flushed cheeks. The same he gently wipes away with a broken heart and a deep frown on his lips. John's holding back his own emotions. It won't help anyone. She doesn't have to know how utterly broken he is by this.

"Hey..." he calls her in the quiet night. "Talk to me."

She shakes her head, she won't say a thing. He wanted answers and maybe he should've fought more. Fight to keep her close. But he always gave her what she wanted. What she asked for.

His bare legs tangled up with hers. This is it, she thinks. The last time they'll be together and it's ripping her apart at the seams. She cries silently, and John can only watch swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"Maybe someday we get that ending you imagined for us." From one moment to another he's pulling her close to his arms, laying a kiss on her forehead. More salty tears trailing down, hitting his exposed chest and she swears there'd be no one after Johnatan Price. "Just not today. Not in this lifetime. Not in this universe."

-

He waits patiently, glaring over her shoulder every now and then. He was sure no one had followed him but he couldn't risk it. One could never be too sure. If only she said the words he'd take her home. Back to where she belonged. In his arms, next to him. The small golden ring that was tucked away for months was still waiting for her to come back. It felt heavy whenever he held it in his hands.

"I guess...-" she trails off trying to find her voice. "It's hard to see you again."

John sighs feet shifting and jaw tightening.

"Not a day goes by where I don't think if... we-" his mouth snapped shut.

A loud rumble echoed through the sky above that startles her.

"Storm's coming in." She observed. Taking a step back from him, out of his reach.

John can't find it in himself to let her go just yet. Just a little longer. Please.

Please.

"Let's take cover... there's a café down the street." he points out the opposite direction.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She reasons but doesn't decline his invitation either. Taking a deep breath she fiddles with her hands. "You and I together are never a good idea." He snorts. Despite the situation. Despite the months apart, he hasn't stopped thinking about her. He hasn't stopped loving her and looking out for her even if she didn't know. What he'd do to have one more night with the girl. "But you know I can't deny that I'd kill for a latte and a chocolate cake."

Smiling fondly he gestures for her to hold the umbrella for him, she obliges. John is quick to unbutton his coat and wrapping it around her small figure. His hands rest on her shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze.

"Now don't tell me you don't feel much better now." He takes the umbrella back and starts walking with her following down the street, arms brushing with every motion.

"You always knew how to treat a girl."

His lips twitch when he hears the words out of her mouth and she blushes aggressively. Her brain seemed to stop working when he was around.

The short trip is silent, two souls that were drawn to each other yet not meant to be together. All both could ever hope for is that another universe would soon come for them.

Or pray that something changed in this one.

[faulty-writes]

hi! do you think you could do a iida x f!reader where they’re the daughter of sir nighteye, and when he eventually dies they go after chisaki for revenge but iida talks them out of it, and uses his experience with stain to convince them.

sorry if this is too specific, i just really like ur writing, especially the iida ones!

[ Hello dear anon. Apologies that this took longer than anticipated. I ended up having to split this into two parts. So no worries, the second part will be published as soon as I am able. But I hope you enjoy this. I like the aspect of Sir Nighteye having a daughter and her having to deal with his passing. ]

He took EVERYTHING from you and left only an empty void where your heart once resided. It felt like a violent storm drowned you in a suffocating ocean of sadness after your father, Sir Nighteye, died. But this wasn’t as bad as the suffocating worry that your friends surrounded you with.

Since Toshinori had a personal history with your father, he tried to comfort you after this unfortunate event, but you chose to isolate yourself instead. Despite your father’s passing, you knew he would be disappointed that you distanced yourself from everyone, including the man he idolized.

If you got around to cleaning the countless All Might items, he had accumulated over the years, it would be a nightmare. It was bad enough that you had to attend and deliver a eulogy at his funeral. During your speech, you choked on your words and sobbed in front of everyone until Tenya, your closest friend, politely ended it.

After that, he guided you to a private location where you cried into his chest for what seemed like hours. It’s hard to recall if you thanked him for that, but the whole event was a blur. With time, the tragic feeling of sadness gradually changed into anger as you got used to living without your father.

Wait…no that’s not quite right. Anger wasn’t the right word to describe it. The bloodthirsty need for vengeance was more accurate. Yup. You may ask, against whom? Overhaul, otherwise known as Kai Chisaki, caused your father’s demise.

And in your vengeful mindset, you laid out a plan that would, hopefully, confront him and avenge your father’s death. Once you did, you believed it would honor his memory because it would rewrite how he died in vain.

It was evident that your dark cloud of thought followed you to school the following morning, since your classmates’ raised eyebrows, and looked shocked, or just plain concerned when they saw you or passed you in the hallway.

“Ribbit, I know Y/n is still upset over what happened. But she hasn’t talked to anyone about it since,” Tsuyu said, and Eijirou nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, crossing his arms. “I’m worried about her. She’s giving off an aura scarier than Bakugou right now,” the angry blond growled.

“What the hell did you just say!?” He demanded, rising from his seat before grabbing Eijirou by the front of his uniform. Tsuyu ignored them, while Tenya tried to get their attention. “I insist you refrain from engaging in physical aggravation during class hours!” He snapped, chopping his hand through the air.

“Class hasn’t even started yet, damn four-eyes!” Katsuki snapped in response, making Tenya sigh. He believed that Katsuki was certainly rude, and it was unlikely that he’d ever gain the patience to practice proper social manners.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his frustration when Tsuyu spoke again. “Maybe you should talk to her Iida,” she suggested. “You’re her closest friend, right?” Her question was followed by a look of curiosity, and he returned that curious expression while clasping his chin, contemplating.

“I suppose that is correct,” he replied before looking your way. You were slumped over at your desk with your arms resting against its surface. “I am afraid that while I have been attempting to provide comfort for Y/n over the weeks since the death of her father, I have been rather unsuccessful.” He hated admitting that.

“I assumed that she required space and time so as to not further aggravate her emotional state,” he explained before taking a deep breath. “But perhaps a direct approach is needed,” he looked at Tsuyu and walked past Katsuki and Eijirou who paused and observed where he was heading.

“He’s going to talk to Y/n?” Eijirou asked, looking at Tsuyu and Katsuki huffed before dropping his hands to his sides. “Just what the hell does four-eyes think he’ll accomplish by doing that?” he questioned, crossing his arms as he continued to watch.

As Tenya approached, he noticed you mumbling to yourself. Your words, however, were indistinguishable. He stood there for a moment, curious if you noticed him. However, you seemed rather oblivious, so he cleared his throat, hoping to catch your attention.

This didn’t work. “Very well,” he stated, “pardon my reach.” He laid his hand on your shoulder and proceeded to shake you. “Hm?!” Your eyes widened, and your muttering stopped. You clenched your jaw, and turned your head, prepared to snap at whoever was disturbing your not murderous and vengeful thoughts about Chisaki.

However, you latched onto your lip when you saw who it was. “Oh,” a small wave of panic washed over you. Had he heard what you were muttering? If that was the case, you needed to play it cool or dumb. However, it wasn’t easy to fool Tenya, especially since his incident with Mei at the Sports Festival.

You glanced away while rubbing your neck. Here goes nothing. “Oh hey, Iida,” you replied, ignoring how your stomach churned and twisted into knots. As a hero student, you hated feeling nervous, although, given the negative emotions you had been experiencing lately, this feeling was more than welcome.

You frowned and focused on Tenya again. It was scary, in a way, to think that he probably knew more about how you felt than anyone else. Yes, you pushed everyone who attempted to comfort you away and although your actions were justified due to the recent tragedy that occurred, Tenya was persistent.

It was a wonder what he’d think if you told him that the tiny voice of reason in your head seemed to vanish whenever your thoughts switched to Chisaki, and hatred engulfed your heart. He narrowed his eyes, gazing at you with concern.

“Are you…well?” He asked. “Well?” You repeated, your eyes glossing over and your gaze turning toward the front of the classroom. “Yes…I am well,” you replied, but your voice lacked emotion, and that alarmed him even more.

He had been rather concerned about your well-being and state of mind after your father’s death. When Tensei was greatly injured, he experienced such emotional turmoil that he almost lost his sense of heroism and logic.

He would hate to see you go down the same path, even though you claimed to be fine. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he noticed something in your eyes, and it made his stomach turn. He swallowed heavily but decided to address it later.

“I see,” he took a step back and pressed a hand against his chest. “Are you…certain you are feeling well?” He questioned, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He did not want to believe that you would lie to him. However, he also knew there was a chance that you didn’t even know how you were feeling now.

Emotions were quite hard to explain at times and traumatic events tended to cause one to feel “numb” and as such, a lack of emotion followed, and made it difficult for one to truly grasp just how they felt. He supposed you were also going through the various stages of grief, which too was understandable.

Your whole life changed overnight, and yet the world continued to turn. Forcing you to abide by its rules when all you desired was a break, a mere moment to recollect yourself. Yet, this did not happen. He knew how frustrating that was.

Perhaps that is why his words were of no use to you now and he was better suited to continue to play the role of support. That was quite efficient in most cases because it allowed the individual the space they so required while at the same time, knowing that there was someone there to reach out to when needed.

“Yes,” you replied. Once again, your voice was barely audible. It was almost as though someone was pulling a string and speaking for you. A single recorded phrase that meant nothing and although he did not like it, he had to accept it. At least for the moment.

He nodded. “Very well, I am certain you already know that I will always be present if you require any assistance or perhaps…someone to lend an ear and discuss the ailments you are experiencing,” he stated, chopping his hand rhythmically through the air.

“Yes,” you replied, staring blankly at the front of the classroom again. He curled his lips and shook his head in uncertainty. Nevertheless, he turned around and walked back to Tsuyu and Eijirou, who were now joined by Shoto and Izuku.

“H-hey Iida,” Izuku greeted cheerfully. “Hello,” he replied, grasping his chin, and tapping it with his finger. Tenya ignored how they exchanged glances and the silence that filled the air was broken when Eijirou snapped, “Well!?” Izuku was startled by his outburst while Shoto raised his eyebrow.

Tenya glanced at him. “What happened with Y/n!? Is she okay?!” He urged, and Shoto turned to Izuku. “Y/n?” he questioned, and Izuku shrugged, uncertain of the conversation taking place. Tsuyu walked over and laid her hand on Eijirou’s back, making him recoil before looking at her from over his shoulder.

“Oh heh, sorry,” he replied. He got emotional and sometimes let it go to his head. “We’re all concerned about Y/n,” she explained, glancing at Izuku and Shoto. “It’s going to be a while before she’s okay again. I know she must miss Sir Nighteye.” All of them did.

“Ribbit, but I’ve noticed something off-putting about Y/n lately too,” something that wasn’t sadness nor anger, but an entirely different emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Hm,” she tapped her lips before looking at Tenya.

“Actually…” she said. Maybe she could describe the emotion she saw in you after all. “The way she’s acting reminds me of Iida,” she commented. “Pardon?” Tenya replied, perhaps the most confused among his friends. “Don’t you remember, Iida?” she asked. “After your brother was injured,” she clarified.  

Izuku frowned. “Y-yeah, I remember that T-Todoroki-kun and I w-went after you,” or rather it was a matter of lucky circumstance that they happened to be in the same area as Tenya at the time. “We…defeated The H-Hero Killer together…” he continued, “and a-after…Iida admitted that…” His hands curled into fists.

He had a hard time remembering the emotional impact of that day. Shoto, noticing his friend’s distressed state, placed a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t much for physical affection, but since making friends at Yuuei, he learned how to provide comfort.

Izuku turned to him, but Shoto’s eyes shifted to Tenya. “Iida went after Stain like a fool,” he said, never one to sugarcoat anything. Although he seemed unaware of the awkward tension he had created. “You let your anger cloud your judgment…I let it cloud my judgment too,” he admitted.

Thinking back to how he used to be, so angry and closed off to the world. He was truly thankful to his friends for helping him escape his shell. Eijirou’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as if he had seen the most horrific sight. “Wait…” He paused, making sure he understood everything.

“Are you suggesting that Y/n might…” he shuttered to think about it, but nobody expected someone as rational as Tenya to do what he did either. All eyes turned to him, and quite frankly, he was at a loss for words. “Well, I…” he straightened his posture and pushed his glasses up, looking in your direction perplexed.

“I am not certain…” although given your insistence that you were fine, you may still be in denial about what happened or hiding your true emotions just as he did. “Talking to her hadn’t helped provide you with a clue?” Shoto asked, now making everyone look at him.

Eijirou chuckled and laid his hand on Shoto’s shoulder. This made him tremble in response and look at the redhead as if he insulted his ancestry. “I think you’re being too blunt,” he stated, making Shoto knit his eyebrows. “Blunt?” He repeated but Tsuyu spoke up. “Todoroki-kun makes a good point,” she said.

“Then again, nobody knew what Iida wanted to do until it was too late,” she tapped her chin a few times, letting her eyes linger on you. “Maybe we need to observe her,” she suggested, making Eijirou raise his eyebrow. “Observe her? What do you mean, like keep an eye on her?” she nodded.

“What do you think Iida?” She asked, noticing he was frowning. “I am not certain that is the best strategy as it may invade the barriers of privacy,” he stated, chopping his hand lightly through the air. “However, perhaps that is the only option we have left…” he concluded.

“S-so how can w-we do it?” Izuku peeped up. Eijirou grinned. “Yeah! We have to be stealthy, right?” He asked, turning to Shoto who wore a blank expression as he thought. “I don’t think we need to spy,” he said a minute later. “Just keep an eye on her like Tsuyu suggested,” he noted.

“It doesn’t mean we need to watch her all the time. We just need to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or wander somewhere alone,” he clarified. “Oh, okay,” Eijirou said. “So, give her space but talk to her when we think she’s doing something suspicious?” In a way, it still seemed dishonest.

“Perhaps that is best,” Tenya said, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder if, like him, there was a chance you’d wander off when you suspected no one was watching you. Regardless, it was his job along with your mutual friends to prevent you from walking down a dark path from which there was no return.

“All right, everyone in your seats,” Shota stated as he walked through the door. “Yes sir!” Tenya immediately said, scrambling to get to his seat just as his friends did. While he normally paid attention in class, he found his gaze drifting to you.

You looked intensely focused on your thoughts instead of the lesson Mr. Aizawa was currently teaching. He might be pleased to know he was right. Within your mind, you devised several plans to confront Chisaki. These were the ideas you scribbled down in your notebook.

You assumed that nobody would look at it especially given your unique situation. Yuuei insisted you have sessions with the lifestyle guidance counselor, Ryo Inui also known as the Hunting Dog Hero: Hound Dog. Usually, these sessions are one hour long on selected days of the week. Today was one of those days.

As to not disturb your afternoon hero training too much, the sessions took place during lunch. Ryo usually kept quiet, to your surprise, during the first 25 minutes of the session to give you time to eat. The remaining time was used to talk about how you were feeling, and how you were dealing with the loss of your father.

But you told him what you told everyone else: that you were fine. Of course, he didn’t buy that. “One day you’ll have to face how you feel!” He growled at you. Oh, if only he knew what you were about to do. “If you can’t handle that, come to us!” You hated it when he gave this speech, even if he had a valid point to make.

“You rely on us heroes to protect you even from yourselves!” You knew he meant well but letting someone else handle your demons just seemed wrong. Although that could be your stubborn and determined attitude speaking. Your father taught you how to be cold and calculated in a sense, and to do nothing short of your best.

Yet maybe that played into your naive plan regarding what you wished to do to Chisaki. Nevertheless, the session ended without you learning or improving. Your rushed footsteps echoed down the hallway as you exited your classroom and headed to Gym Gamma.

You had some regret not taking your hero costume with you to your session with Ryo, but it didn’t matter now. You carried it with one hand while your other was wrapped around the strap of your backpack which hung off your shoulder. As you turned the hallway corner, you stumbled back and fell to the floor with a thud.

The suitcase containing your hero costume flew and bounced on the floor a few times. It then hit the opposite wall near an empty classroom. Your backpack contents spilled out, littering the floor. You sat up, hissing softly.

“Ouch…” you muttered before someone stepped in front of you. “Apologies,” when you looked up, Tenya stared back at you. He was dressed in his hero suit, apart from the helmet that normally concealed his face.

“Hm?” When he realized he had run into you, he leaned onto one knee and glanced at you from head to toe. “Are you injured? Forgive me, I was not anticipating someone coming around the corner at the accelerated speed you were going,” he explained.

“Yeah well…” You glanced away, irritated. “I’m not injured…” you muttered. “Then may I assist you in gathering your things?” He asked, referring to the contents of your backpack. You sighed and slowly sat on your knees.

“Yeah, I guess,” you replied, picking up the first few items within reach. Tenya walked around and picked up one of the textbooks. He handed it to you before grabbing the notebook you were writing in earlier that morning.

After placing the textbook in your backpack, you grabbed said notebook. However, it slipped between your fingers when Tenya handed it to you and landed on the floor again. Your vengeful ideas were scribbled across its pages and were now laid open for the world to see.

You cursed yourself for hesitating because that allowed Tenya to pick up the notebook and curiously look at what you had written down. Your heart pounded and you could only helplessly watch his eyebrows knit together.

“Pardon but-” You jumped to your feet and snatched it from him. He looked shocked by your behavior. “W-what are you even doing here!?” You demanded, clenching the notebook to your chest, and glaring at him. He blinked a few times, and you noticed a suspicious look in his eye.

“I…was merely assisting an injured classmate to Recovery Girl,” he replied. You huffed “Good for you,” in response before frantically picking up the rest of your things. You shoved them into your backpack and grabbed the metal suitcase containing your hero suit.

“Y/n?” Tenya asked, watching the spectacle with serious concern. However, he remained silent as you raced down the hallway. This was despite his urge to exclaim that running in hallways was prohibited. Little did he know your cheeks burned red.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ Out of all the things he could have seen. Well, maybe you could just…make some excuse if he asked about them. Something along the lines of getting your emotions out on paper. Yeah, that sounded fine. Writing was a form of coping, right?

Although you weren’t certain how much of that Tenya would buy, the way he looked at you the rest of the day only indicated that his suspicions were high. You tried to ignore it to the best of your ability and avoided him when you could.

You knew that might come back to bite you, but you didn’t care because there were more important things to do. Like conducting research regarding Chisaki’s whereabouts. Luckily, it was easy to fool Principal Nezu and the rest of your teachers.

Simply, you told them that you needed time for yourself and felt overwhelmed by your emotions. You couldn’t be disturbed while doing research. Although you felt some remorse for using your father’s death as an excuse to do your vengeful research, it would be worth it.

They granted you a week off without consequence. The only condition was that you had to stay within Yuuei student housing grounds and continue your regularly scheduled sessions with Hound Dog. A small price to pay, not that you were going anywhere, not yet at least.

Although the student dorm was a bit eerie during the day because of the dead silence with the occasional creaks and cracks of the building settling, you tried not to let this disturb you as you started your week-long research. Of course, your friends were concerned when they noticed you were absent from class.

In addition, you rarely left your room during the evening. However, none were more concerned than Tenya. Frankly, he couldn’t help but think back to the strange writing you had in your notebook. It wasn’t that hard to figure out that those writings and your current behavior were connected.

“A-are you sure about this I-Iida?” Izuku asked. “Yeah, I mean she could just be trying to express herself. Nothing’s more manly than taking control of your emotions!” Eijirou declared with a smile while Tsuyu thought quietly.

“I’m most certain the writing within her notebook was not merely a method to cope with her emotions,” he replied sternly. “Are you sure?” Eijirou asked before Tsuyu spoke up. “Ribbit, well if Iida is right then Y/n needs our help,” she concluded.

“Well, if there’s something wrong and she’s going to go through with what she wrote, I agree,” Eijirou said. Izuku clenched his jaw, his features twisted with uncertainty. “B-but we…we can’t just f-force help onto h-her…” he stated before glancing away, trying to devise a reasonable solution in his head.

“W-what if they try to…l-leave? They haven’t even b-been in class lately a-and…” he frowned. He hated thinking you would do something sneaky like him, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, and Momo had when The League kidnapped Katsuki.

Leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone and running around the city in disguises wasn’t the nicest or smartest thing they could have done. Not to mention how they neglected Tsuyu’s feelings on the matter. However, at least they patched things up and Eijirou and her were closer than ever.

All eyes seemed to linger on the ground. More than likely, they were all thinking the same thing Izuku was. “Maybe…we can ask Yaoyorozu for help?” Tsuyu suggested, naturally catching everyone’s attention. “May I ask you to elaborate on your suggestion?” Tenya replied, and Eijirou nodded.

“Yeah, why ask Yaoyorozu for help?” he asked. “I’m sure she can figure out a way to keep track of Y/n without us interfering,” she explained. “Huh…” Eijirou thought about her words, glancing at Izuku who seemed concerned about the idea of asking Momo for help while Tenya sighed.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial to use alternative methods to ensure we don’t worsen Y/n’s already fragile condition,” he said before looking at Tsuyu. “Do you believe Momo could provide such a solution?” Tsuyu smiled, the tip of her tongue sticking out from between her lips.

She nodded in response to Tenya’s question and with some hesitance, the four of them sought her out. “I’m honored that you’d ask for my help,” Yaoyorozu said, placing a hand on her chest. “But I don’t know what I can do,” she said, tapping her lips a few times.

“Y/n is entitled to a little privacy and time alone to sort out her feelings. I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” she said with a frown. “That’s exactly why we need your help!” Eijirou exclaimed, curling his hands into fists.

Yaoyorozu looked at him, her eyebrow raised. “Come on, there must be something you can do,” he said while Tsuyu laid a comforting hand on his back. “Iida is mostly concerned about what he found in Y/n’s notebook,” she explained. “Her notebook?” She asked, looking at Tenya perplexed.

“I’m not certain if the writings found in her notebook were a coping mechanism that assisted her in organizing her complex array of emotions or perhaps…plans she wishes to enact,” he explained. Silence lingered in the air shortly after. Eijirou looked at Izuku before walking toward Yaoyorozu.

“Whatever it is, Iida is right to be concerned. We all are!” He stated, determination shining in his eyes before grabbing Yaoyorozu’s hands. She looked shocked by this action, almost as if it were foreign. He leaned forward, locking eyes with her.

“He’s doing the right thing by bringing this to our attention. Even if Y/n doesn’t want our help, we need to prevent her from making a big mistake,” he said, tightening his grip on her hands. “So please,” he brought her hands against his chest where his heart pounded erratically.

“Will you help us?” He asked. “Mm…” she glanced away, thinking for a moment. “Alright,” she said, standing up. “I think I have a solution,” extending her arm, it glowed a faint blue hue before several oval-shaped devices fell onto the floor, each one clinking as they piled on top of one another.

“Huh?” Eijirou looked at the devices, clearly confused about what they were while Tenya picked one up, examining it closely. “These are motion devices,” Yaoyorozu explained before a larger, more rectangular device manifested from her arm. She quickly grasped it before it hit the floor.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to Tenya. He looked perplexed but took it, nonetheless. She smiled proudly and placed a hand on her hip. “That will alert you when the motion sensors are set off, but it may be impossible to tell what sets them off,” she explained.

“Still, I know it will help with your request,” Tenya enclosed his hand around the device. “Thank you very much for your assistance. I am most certain this will help indeed,” he replied, smiling at Yaoyorozu. She returned it and looked at Eijirou, Tsuyu, and Izuku.

“I believe we should find appropriate locations for these motion devices,” Tenya said, kneeling to gather them in his hand. “R-right!” Izuku replied, helping him pick them up while Eijirou laid his hand on Yaoyorozu’s shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks! We owe you one!” He grinned like a madman showing off his pointy-shark-like teeth and while that may unsettle some, she nodded. “Glad I could help,” she said, “especially if Y/n needs it.” A frown came to her face. “I hope they’re alright.” It was evident she was just as worried as everyone else.

Following this, Tenya carefully considered the proper locations for the motion devices. He believed the most beneficial locations were the front steps of the Class A dormitory, the entrance to the nearby forest, and along the road to Yuuei High. Yes, these particular spots would also be triggered throughout the day.

However, there was more likelihood that, if by chance you would leave, you’d do it at night. The days following were some of Tenya’s most emotionally heightened. He was constantly on edge, waiting for something to happen.

When night came, he always woke up to the sound of the motion devices going off. However, every time he hurried outside, he found that something else triggered it. Like an animal curiously passing by in the dead of night.

While his friends lost hope or doubted that the writings Tenya described in your notebook were malicious, something told him that was not the case. Perhaps one could call it intuition, but he could not accept that those writings were merely emotional expressions.

He believed they were motives. Plans you wished to take into action, and he would not rest until he caught you in the act or prevented you from doing it. So, he continued to wait, and the following night, he was jolted out of his sleep when the device went off as it had done many times before.

He hitched his breath, immediately grabbing his glasses. Despite being in his sleepwear, he slipped on a light jacket, put on his jogging shoes, and left his sleeping cap on his bed. The last thing he grabbed was the device that had jolted him awake and went to your room.

He noticed that your door was left ajar. “Mm…” Despite respecting the inner sanctum of another’s living space, he placed his hand on the doorframe and peered into your room. Even with the lights shut off, he noticed that your bed was undone, and you were nowhere to be found.

He also noticed that the dresser drawers were open, almost as if you rushed to gather clothing before disappearing. His grip tightened on the doorframe, his nails digging into it briefly before he ran down the hallway. He knew his frantic steps might alert his classmates and wake them from their sleep.

However, he did not care, there was a more pressing matter at hand. This was, of course, finding you and possibly stopping whatever horrific act you wished to commit. He had to find you before it was too late. He had to save you.

He pushed past the front door of the student dorm and hurried down the stairs as the cool night air evaporated his breath. He looked back and forth along the road that surrounded the student campus, and his heart sank when he realized you were nowhere in sight.

Silence fell over him, accompanied by the cries of owls and the chirping of insects in the distance. Then he extended one leg out in front of him, bending it at the knee and extending the opposite leg behind him. His calves shifted and six small engines appeared that sparked to life with a loud rumble.

A deafening silence fell over the world around him as his eyes focused forward. He was about to take off to search the surrounding areas where he had placed the motion devices as he had done countless times before. The only difference was that he was certain you had left the premises this time.

While it could have been easy enough to assume you had merely woken up in the middle of the night to have a snack or use the restroom, it appeared you had taken provisions. This was enough to convince him you were out here.

His engines backfired temporarily when a hand grabbed his shoulder, surprising him and breaking his concentration. “Wow, heh, sorry Iida,” Eijirou said, flashing him a smile. “We were wondering if you’d be out here,” Tsuyu chimed in, coming to stand next to Eijirou. Tenya knit his eyebrows.

“Well, heh,” Eijirou rubbed the back of his head, “you kind of woke everyone up with your rushed footsteps…and Izuku wanted to know what happened,” he explained, nervously. Tsuyu nodded. “When he noticed you weren’t in your room, he searched the dorm, ribbit.”

She then shrugged. “I figured you’d gone after Y/n or something else that triggered the motion sensors,” she explained, pressing one finger to her chin. “Yeah, but we didn’t want you to search alone anymore or go after Y/n by yourself, considering how determined you can get sometimes,” Eijirou said before looking around.

“I was just preparing to track her down,” Tenya explained, almost sounding irritated that he had been interrupted despite knowing his friends meant well. “We’ll help then!” He declared and ignored Tenya’s raised eyebrow.

“I am not certain that is the most beneficial-” Eijirou grabbed onto his shoulders, shaking him. “Which way do you want us to go?!” He asked frantically, and yet again Tenya looked at him with a raised eyebrow before a sigh passed his lips. He felt annoyed but knew that, perhaps, the more help he got the better.

Then again, this was a delicate situation and if more than one person approached you, there was a chance you’d become hostile. That is why he needed to ensure that he found you first. But regardless, he nodded. “Very well,” he said, clasping his chin in thought.

“Perhaps Tsuyu can provide assistance in searching behind the campus. I will search the area up ahead,” he stated, motioning with his hand. “Right, I’ll go this way!” Eijirou exclaimed before running in the opposite direction. In Tenya’s mind, he wondered if they’d get in trouble.

The teachers keep a close eye on the student housing, but surely, they’d understand this situation if Tenya explained it to them. “Good luck on your search Iida,” Tsuyu said before hopping off the ground at a great distance. He watched her soar through the air and turned to see Eijirou looking back and forth a long way down the path.

He trusted that they would do the right thing if they happened upon you but now wasn’t the time to sit and contemplate that. Once again, he got into position, and without delay he was gone in a flash, leaving nothing but lingering gray smoke behind.

The world blurred around him as he sped by, yet it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. The piercing wind against his body felt like a thousand tiny cuts across his exposed flesh, but he didn’t care. Like a true hero, the only thing he focused on in this moment was you.

Near the wooded area, opposite the student dormitory, he slowed his pace and leaned over. Placing his hands on his knees, he panted softly and wiped the sweat from his face. His chest felt heavy, and perhaps that was the weight of responsibility he felt.

He needed to find you, but how? There were endless possibilities as to which direction and path you had taken. Even with his friends searching the area, what was the likelihood that they’d find you before the sun rose? His soft panting continued, and the cool air around him made his moistened skin sting.

The feeling of doubt was beginning to linger in the back of his mind when he felt something vibrate in his pocket. “Hm,” he paused and leaned up before pulling out the device. He looked at it perplexed as it continued to vibrate in his hand.

He pondered for a moment if this was merely another false alarm and that an animal had triggered one of the many motion sensors that were scattered about the area. However, as he lifted his head and glanced into the distance, he noted the trees that made up the nearby forest.

He couldn’t recall at this moment if he had placed a motion sensor in the location he was currently in, but perhaps this was a sign. He swallowed thickly and placed the device back into his pocket before his engines reeved again and he took off for the forest.

The ground underneath him seemed to change in density, its surface turning thicker and more slippery. Perhaps that was due to the mud that accumulated in the area, and he had to slow his pace the closer he got to the entrance of the forest to not slip and fall. He would despise being covered in mud.

Taking a deep breath, he ignored the pounding of his heart in his chest as he cautiously walked up to the first set of trees and noticed a small square device resting against the base of one of the said trees. When he got closer, the device in his pocket vibrated once more.

“Hm,” he clasped his chin and looked at the ground. Although it was dark, the moon allowed him just enough light to be able to make out footprints that led into the forest. “Mm,” he frowned and slowly kneeled to examine them closer.

It was impossible to tell if these were your footprints or perhaps someone else’s, but either way time was ticking away, and seconds were precious now. It was evident that there was a chance you had deviated from the path and instead, took refuge in the forest.

If that were true, then not only were you in danger of getting lost but potential animals could cause harm to you as well. Regardless, if there was a sliver of a chance that you had attempted to hide yourself in the greenery, he needed to take it.

With that in mind, he headed to the forest. He cautiously glanced around and despite the darkened sky looming above him, the small amount of light provided by the moon helped outline the trees and the path that nestled between them.

[ Part II ]

[arieswritez]

HII! i just wanna start out by saying I absolutely adore and love your mark fics so much, I’ve been eating them up 🫶. but i wanted to ask, in your yan! mark alphabet, you said mark would be more rough if you’re on the masculine side. do you think you can go more into that?

hi :v!!!

i think mark would be rougher w a 'partner' (partner in quotes cause he's holding you hostage 🤭) who's masc because of daddy issues. . basically LMAOO.

if we're talking about alternate!mark, despite the fact that they took over the planet: he still feels the need to prove himself to his dad.

he may not show it but he still holds a lot of anger towards nolan. if their fight still happened in that timeline, mark finds himself having nightmares about his dad above him, pummeling him into that mountain and he wakes with a start before his dad can deliver the last fatal blow.

it causes friction.

maybe nolan and him bump heads from time to time. heated arguments and icy glares in which mark is always the first to back down on. because the truth of the matter is that mark is afraid of his father. and sometimes he wonders if they're real partners or if what they've got is more of an uneasy truce.

regardless, conquering earth is something mark is letting his father do because he wants his approval.

he wants to be just like him.

of course, that insecurity - that resentment - bleeds into his other relationship w men or masc!presenting individuals. it's an ego thing. a need to puff out his chest and show that he's stronger than said person. that he's better. that he can bring them to their knees.

he's going to take out his frustrations and do to you what he couldn't do to nolan.

sigmund freud would have a field trip with alt/yan!mark i'm telling you.

it gets him so, so hard to see someone who's supposed to be strong reduced to whimpers and tears. he loves to tear them apart and watch as they try to pick up the pieces, only to fail in doing so. to watch them become an empty shell of what they used to be. he wants to be the reason you wake up in a cold sweat at night.

he really is his daddy's son 😞🫶🏽

also good luck if you're taller or just slightly bigger than him in any way. . let's not even mention if you're older. . it's NOT gonna be fun. for you, anyway.🤭

[happyk44]

Bianca lives. She follows them to Olympus. Percy notices the way Hermes seems to whip out his phone as soon as they walk in, busily texting someone. His eyes dart between them and his father. Percy scans the thrones as Grover clops over to them, happy but shaking with nerves.

Distantly, he wonders where Hades is - isn't his uncle supposed to attend Olympus during the winter solstice?

Artemis descends from her throne to save Percy and Thalia from being blasted to smithereens. She knights her dear sister to run alongside her in the hunt. Bessie's life is threatened. Percy pleas.

And Zeus summons his bolt when Poseidon suggests he keep Bessie beneath the waves.

Immediately the room goes cold. The scent of bitter ozone is displaced by the throaty taste of frozen dear and gagging misery. A nightmare batters through Percy's head - two children playing in the foyer of a hotel, a little girl trying to appease her brother, laughter, joy, content. Then lightning. Then death.

Then pain.

It crushes him - loss, grief, horror, a lazy river, and memories of a dozen ghostly voices whispering in the dead of night to fear the skies, fear the storm.

The underground is the only place safe for us, they say. They don't like when we breathe their air.

Air hits Percy's lungs as the nightmares snaps. Annabeth and Grover are keeled over, gagging viciously and breathing hard. Thalia looks just as shaken as Percy feels. Even the gods look displaced, fallen slightly on their thrones. Confusion has strung across their face in bewildered lines.

Zeus's bolt has fizzled to a less impressive crackle. Poseidon's watery trident looks more like an overgrown fork.

And behind Percy, Bianca steps forward. Her form is shaky, but she is the most sure-footed person in the room. She stares horrified up at Zeus, then her eyes turn to daggers.

It is the most enraged she has looked since Percy met her.

"You tried to kill me," she says. Zeus stares at her, baffled. "Me and my brother." She points at him. Wispy black vapour leaks from beneath her sleeves. "You wanted us to go e, but our father said no, so you tried to kill us." Her voice turns icy cold. "You murdered my mother."

It's not Zeus who speaks but Hermes. He laughs softly, like a teasing wind, but there's panic in his eyes. "Look, kid, I think you're confused-"

"I am not confused, Hermes," Bianca snaps.

She says his name with confidence. Like she knows him. Knows him well enough to belay the Lord title, to belay feigned politeness. Everything about her has shifted - she is no longer that shy girl Percy met days ago.

She's someone else.

Her head held high, she glowers up at the gods before them. "I am Bianca di Angelo, daughter of Hades, trained by Death and the very shadows themselves." A frightening chill bursts across the room. "I was there in the underground when you murdered my siblings, I heard Hermes deliver your threats for if he dared to retaliate, and I hope the Titans can't sever you from your pathetic throne, so that I can cut you down myself, like you deserve!"

The floors shook with every violent shout of her words. Beneath her feet, the decay of marble spread. The thrones crackled under the weight of her final scream. Shadows bled everywhere. Ghostly wails echoed all around the room.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN THREATEN MY BROTHER AND I WOULDN'T DESTROY YOU WHERE YOU STAND?"

Percy stumbled back. His head was throbbing. Nearby, Annabeth and Grover had fully collapsed to the floor, crushed into one another. Thalia was steadying herself against Artemis, who looked just as sick.

Bianca turned towards Percy. Her eyes were nothing but voids, dragging all the nightmares he'd ever had to forefront of his mind, all the near death experiences, all the reminders that he was mortal. The veins across her face were blackened and prominent.

"He destroyed your siblings as well," she said, softer. "Do not trust an Olympian, Percy. They don't care for those of us who love the depths."

Then she was gone. Like the snap of someone's fingers - instantaneous. All the encroaching darkness immediately dissipated, Percy panted, gripping his knees.

What the hell was she talking about?

Before he could even think to ask, Zeus was rounding on Hermes, who looked much different now. Not neatened up in a fancy business suit, but much younger and panicked, with a dark t-shirt and an obsidian wreath of laurels in his hair.

"Did you know about this?" Zeus seethed. "Did you know they lived?"

Like a child being scolded, Hermes pulled into himself. "I knew," he said quietly.

The acrid scent of electricity was back in the air. "And you did not tell me?"

Hermes didn't meet Zeus' eyes. "I was told-"

"I am your father!" Zeus bellowed.

Hermes closed his eyes. It was painfully silent. Percy's heart hammered in his chest as he helped pull Annabeth and Grover up to their knees.

Then, "They are my family too. And Bianca..." He looked up, catching Zeus in a clear stare. "Bianca is a good girl. She loves her father, and she loves her brother. She would not consider joining their army because Hades would not allow it. And she will not be the child of the prophecy because-" He turned to Percy and gestured quietly. "-it will be Percy. He's older than she is." He rolled his shoulders. "So relax, Father. Everything will be fine. As I've said before, there is nothing to worry about from them."

Zeus didn't look convinced. The other gods peered between the two, looking more bothered with Hermes, still dressed in dark clothing, than they were with Zeus. All except for Poseidon, who didn't seem to care about the fight that just broke out or Bianca's existence, and Dionysus, who tilted his head towards his older brother in a subtle nod.

Poseidon cleared his throat. The heavy mood broke ever so slightly. "Since you seemed so reticent to keeping the beast with me, Hephaestus - will you help build, uh, Bessie, was it?" Percy nodded. "Yes, will you help me build Bessie an aquarium here so he may be properly housed on Olympus?"

Hephaestus grunted in agreement.

When Zeus said nothing, still bitterly eying his son, Poseidon shrugged and held up his hand, "All in favour?"

Slowly a number of hands rose and for a moment Percy felt himself relax. At least, Bessie would have a happy ending.

The Council dispersed. Thalia and Percy shared a fervoured glance at one another as she was pulled away by Artemis. Annabeth was yanked off by her mother, who kept shooting Percy annoyed looks. Percy swallowed around his tongue as Grover nervously chewed on a tin can next to him.

"What do you think she meant?" Percy asked.

"The truth."

Grover jumped nearly a foot in the air. A panic bleat cut through his mouth, but it was drowned out by the loud music Apollo had thrown on. The two of them spun around. Hermes stood, still young, still darkly dressed. There was an almost somber air about him now.

"My father can be a difficult man, Percy," he said quietly before Percy could say anything. "I would not err him if I could help it, but... Bianca and Nico are very powerful children. They would be good allies to have on your side."

Percy chewed his lip. "I get the feeling Bianca won't really be interested."

Hermes shook his head. "She's heard the stories from the ones who came before her. And like her father, she was always more pessimistic. So she's wary of the people here. But she's always caved quickly for her brother and I doubt that's changed. And Nico..." A soft smile catches across his lips. "Nico's always been more helpful than he probably should be. It got him into a lot of scrapes as a kid." He laughs gently at whatever he remembered. "He'll be on your side. And as long as you keep him safe, she won't be interested in hurting you."

Percy stared at him. "How do you... know?"

"I am a god of the underworld," Hermes said. "And Hades has always been more capable of caring for his children than the rest of us. I think he sees the miseries that come from those that weren't and chooses to do better." He shrugged and waved his hand around. "All that really means is we under his wing sometimes get designated for babysitting duties. Or training." He grins widely. "I hope Nico still remembers how to pick locks."

Grover bleats in an awkward laugh and shoves another tin can into his mouth. Percy doesn't know how to react. Godly babysitters to keep them safe? And he had to get a shitty step-dad who beat his mom to the keep the monsters at bay? A small burst of jealousy and anger cuts through him. Grover nudges him.

"Now if the two of you don't mind, I should probably ensure Nico is safe with his sister before Father decides to finish what he started." Hermes steps away then stills. He glances at Percy over his shoulder. "Stay safe, Percy. And please keep Nico safe, if you can. He's got a big heart - he is our best chance at proving that the Underworld is a benefit to Olympus. Not something to be feared and reviled."

Then he turned and vanished into the crowd in a single step. Percy stared after him. And thought of chatty overactive Nico. Then Bianca, full of hate and despair. The voices of their ghostly siblings, worried for the ones who came after them, still angry with the gods above.

There was a pitiful pang that hit Percy at the thought Nico might become like that - change from the happy smiling kid who was too small for his armour and thought everything around them was the coolest thing ever, into a pissed off hateful overly powerful demigod who may not join Luke and his army but would be happy to destroy Olympus and everything associated with it.

And Zeus...

Would he go after Bianca again for what she said? She was also still technically a Huntress of Artemis, wasn't she? So she'd never turn sixteen. But Nico would. Tiny Nico laughing loudly as he was chased by his big sister. Tiny Nico who screamed bloody murdered when his mom...

Would Zeus...

Bile drew up to Percy's throat.

"Do you think he'll try to..." He trailed off but Grover yanked at the hem of his shirt, fully understanding.

"I don't know. I..." Grover falters, then twists the hem of his shirt over his thumb. "I hope not."

Percy swallowed back the bile burning his throat. "Me too."

[arcadekitten]

With the new year on the horizon and 10 completed games under my belt, I thought it might be fun to go through some projects that didn't make the cut and I ended up shelving for one reason or another! (It's only like, 2 of 'em but still)

The first is a game about Theodore and Zapara. While Tricks N Treats was my first finished + published RPGmaker game, I originally started testing things out with RPGM shortly after Cemetery Mary's release. The following game was meant to take place in the CM universe.

It was my first time using RPGMaker & it shows. It was also being made in VXAce, hence why proportions are so different from all my current projects. VXace uses 32x32 tiles whereas MV + above use 48x48. Trying to work within these limitations was a bit tricky for me

The (gif) footage you see above is all that exists of the game now(I didn't even screen record LOL). Back when my old laptop kicked it the files for this game went with it and I never cared to back them up. I don't consider it a hard loss though as by that point I had already moved on to bigger more polished projects and I didn't see myself returning to it any time soon(or at all).

The plot of the game was that Theo woke up in the night to hear Zapara leaving their apartment. When he goes to look for and finds her, she seems to want to avoid going back to the apartment for reasons she won't share. By the end of the game she confesses that she had a really realistic nightmare and she's scared if she goes back it will come true. Theo reassures her that he would never let her nightmare happen in reality, and so the two go back together. In the morning, we see Crowven texting them. They're making plans to go out to a club, when Crowven asks if his cousin can come along--tying it into CM.

I think if I made this game, it would've been cute, and maybe I'll even do something with the premise for a larger game, but I don't see myself trying to start this as a solo project again.

The next game that was shelved from when I was learning Unity & Adventure Creator. Patrons had seen previews it! I started this game as a tool to help me learn the programs, and it got shelved when I felt it was no longer teaching me but instead adding weight to my back.

Unlike the previous game, this is a game I COULD see myself starting again--probably using the same method I'm using for WISHMAKER in RPGM. This game is called "Dreary Elaine", and it's a bit interesting!

(ignore the reference PNG of Elaine here HAHA) This game, like WISHMAKER, is a point-and-click adventure game, where you play as the titular Elaine as she delivers party invitations to her neighbors.

The thing that makes Dreary Elaine interesting is that it is actually an offshoot of my other work! Mary Anta is a character that exists in the fictional world of Noisrev. Dreary Elaine is Mary's favorite childhood book series. A fictional world within a fictional world!

As I said above, this is a game that has the potential to come back one day--I'm just not currently sure when. But exploring the Elaine-verse is something that always appeals to me and who knows! Maybe I'll represent it more in my work going forward.

I think that's all for now? I hope it was fun to read through and I'm excited to have more (finished) games and art for you soon! ❤️