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kiwixlime · 2 years

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Between You and I - Part Three

hello hello!! another update!! this one is a bit rushed because i got distracted halfway through and i'm sorry about that my adhd brain has not been letting me function, but i still felt like writing!! so i hope you can follow along and not end up thinking what the actual fuck lmao anyway thank you so much for reading i hope you enjoy this chapter!

A sore throat and aching muscles are usually enough to put you in a bad mood. But tonight, nothing can dim your shine. Your shift at the club was anything but stellar, but you made some good tips, and your voice sounded exceptional. The applause you received made you feel like a star again. And as you stand outside with Daphne, all of the pain you’re feeling fizzles away knowing that any minute Joel will be swerving through the parking lot to take you home.

“You sure you don’t want a ride?“ Daphne asks you. The two of you are standing behind the club, leaning against the brick wall as you look up at the night sky. The stars are bright tonight, sparkling against the onyx sky and casting a glowing light into the drab parking lot. For once, it’s actually quite pretty. Then again, that could be your rose-colored glasses speaking.

“No thanks,” you sigh happily into the darkness. You’ve only been hanging out with Joel for two days, but shit, they’ve been the greatest two days of your life. He’s changed your mood for the better. Before your accidental run-in, you were feeling trapped in life, your career, love. Two of those things are still up in the air. But with Joel in the picture, life is more exciting.

“You are one smitten kitten,” Daphne snorts with a shake of her head. She doesn’t understand how one person, a man, can shake up your world so quickly. To her, you’ve always been this independent woman. You still are, you swear. But you can be that independent woman and still appreciate getting worshiped by Joel. “He must be a great lay,” she adds in amusement.

He is, he really is. But it’s not just about the sex; Joel makes you feel seen. He listens to you. He shares things with you, and he’s genuinely fun to be around. You don’t have a relationship, exactly, but whatever arrangement you have with him is far better than the one with your previous boyfriend.

“Speak of the devil,” your friend speaks up, pointing towards the entrance of the parking lot. You glance over, eyes squinting as the bright headlights come into view. Joel’s truck is easily recognizable. He had a similar one when you were in high school. This, of course, is much fancier.

“Finally,” you mumble under your breath, keeping your excitement contained. You turn to Daphne as a rumble of thunder rolls through the night. “Are you leaving?” You ask her, making sure she won’t be stranded in the dark parking lot once you go.

“Yeah, I’ll be on my way,” she answers, reaching into her purse. She pulls out her car keys and sighs, looking from you to Joel’s truck. “Behave,” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

You bring your finger up to your chin in thought before shrugging. “Nope,” you grin, giving her a quick hug. “You be safe. It’s supposed to storm tonight and you have a long drive home.”

“I promise, mom,” she replies with an exaggerated groan. “See you tomorrow, girl. I expect some spicy details on this new romance!” Her tone is playful as she skips away to her car just as a flash of lightning strikes in the distance. Romance. Funny, but you don’t correct her. What’s the harm in playing pretend for a little while?

Daphne enters her car and throws you a wave before peeling out of the parking lot. Now that she’s taken care of, you let out a tiny squeal, running to Joel’s truck. The rain starts just before you reach the door, splattering down in hard droplets. Joel reaches over and throws the passenger door open, laughing as he calls you in.

“Already wet and you’re barely in my car,” he comments with a mischievous grin. “Sorry, baby, I should have prepared better.” He gestures to you and the truck.

“Yeah,” you huff, dramatically. “A real gentleman would have come to fetch me with an umbrella.” For a second his smile fades into a frown, mentally slapping himself for not doing just that. But then you flutter your lashes and hop into the truck, slamming the door shut behind you. “Just kidding, this is more efficient.”

Joel rolls his eyes and leans over the center console, claiming your lips in a soft kiss. You taste like rainwater and sugar, and it’s an intoxicating blend that sends his hormones raging. For an older man, he gets worked up pretty easily. But he thinks it’s just you having that effect on him.

“Are you hungry? I’m sure there’s a 24-hour place somewhere,” he offers, driving out onto the main road. “Or I can cook you up something back at my place. I’m actually a pretty decent chef," he says proudly. And for some reason, his little admission makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Joel Miller offering to cook for you? You are the luckiest girl in the world, aren’t you?

“I’m okay, had a few bites to eat at the club,” you shrug, pulling off your hoodie. You shake your hair out, excess moisture hitting Joel, but he doesn’t mind. “Really I just wanna go back to yours, maybe have more wine…some other things,” you say, sly smile on your face.

Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as different, impure, thoughts race through his mind. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he mutters in a deep voice. He takes the chance to look over at you, careful of the rain outside. You still have sparkles from your makeup stuck to your face, trailing down to your chest, glittering under the street lights.

It’s a warm night, despite the rain. You had your hoodie on to keep you dry, but now you’re showing off a thin tank top, giving him an amazing view of your cleavage. The rest of you is covered in an old pair of sweats that have paint splatters on them from when you redid your apartment. You look a mess, but it’s sexy, and his own sweatpants are tightening. The power you hold by just existing is terrifying.

He clears his throat, turning down the radio so the sounds of the rain spatter nearly drown it out. He needs to focus. But you’re so distracting, sitting there looking pretty, skin sleek with water, pouty lips glossed and kissable. Even your hair that’s been drenched by the downpour frames your face so goddamn beautifully.

The drive to Joel’s apartment isn’t long at all. But he can’t wait to have you. Not when you look like this. Not when you’ve been on his mind since your activities in his office. He keeps one hand on the wheel, moving the other across your thigh. He slips it down between your legs, massaging gentle circles. You look over at him, eyebrows raised. He’s smiling to himself, keeping his gaze on the road for safety, of course. But his fingers trail deeper until he rubs over your clothed pussy.

You moan loudly for effect, catching his attention. His eyes fall on you once more, watching you spread your legs. He licks his lips at the sight of you and moves his hand up, into your sweats, breaching the band of your panties. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him permission.

His eyes center back on the road, but his fingers easily dip into your panties as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Just like he hoped, you’re wet. And he wonders if it’s because of him. Do you feel the same way he does, like he can’t possibly control himself when you’re around? Do you get wet at just the sight of him, or his voice, or the way he looks at you? Fuck, he hopes you do.

He hears you sigh as he rubs a finger over your entrance, testing your sensitivity. And he likes that little sound. He likes all of your sounds, honestly. He wants to hear more; hear that he’s the one making you feel this good. He rubs you again before slipping his finger inside you. You melt back into your seat and close your eyes.

Joel works his finger in and out of you as best he can at this angle. You sigh again and try to move your hips to send him deeper. You’re getting needy, and Joel just wants to please you. So he adds a second finger, dragging both of them through your dripping folds before plunging back into your core.

You clench around his fingers, so slippery he slides in and out of you with ease. He keeps his eyes glued to the road through the rain, listening to your erotic noises since he can’t see your face. Your breath is shaky as he stretches you out, getting daring until he’s three fingers deep inside your cunt.

You twist your body into a way that’s easier for him to reach you, clutching his wrist in your hands. His fingers move quickly, and you squeeze your legs shut around him. You’re going to cum, you are, right here in his car.

His fingertips brush your sensitive spot before dragging back out, slowly so you shiver. He takes the risk to look over at you, eyes fluttered shut, lip trapped between your teeth. He moves to your clit, creating a friction so delectable you can’t hold your moans any longer.

“Joel, Joel,” you warn with a tired breath, your grip still tight on his wrist. He rubs your clit faster at the sound of his name on your tongue. “J-Joel, I c-can’t,” you cry out softly.

“I got you,” he whispers, circling your clit again. Your legs tremble. You squirm in the passenger seat, and before you can take another breath, you’re squirting over his hand, digging your nails into his skin. Oh, wow, oh, fuck, your brain short-circuits.

Joel's hand seizes the steering wheel with force, trying so hard to watch the road. But you’re moaning next to him, your face blissed out and beautiful. It’s a stroke to his ego knowing you came that hard for him. Hell, you squirted for him. And if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’s seen…

Satisfied, he pulls his hand from your panties and licks his fingers clean. He can feel your eyes on him, but he keeps his attention on driving until your stare burns into the side of his face. Then he looks over at you with a smirk. “Look at you,” he tsks, drinking in the view of you. “You made a mess. Dirty girl.”

“Sorry, Mr. Miller,” you say shyly as you twirl your damp hair between your fingers.

“Don’t worry baby girl,” he grins, flicking on the turn signal to head down his street. Thank god you’re almost there. You can hardly keep yourself together. “When I get you home, we’ll do much filthier things.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle, leaning closer to him, running your hand over his arm. You just want to touch him, feel him.

“I’m gonna have my way with you,” he says with a beat, and you can feel the heat rise to your face. You are more than okay with that. “I mean, if you’re up for it?” He adds, double-checking that he can actually talk to you like that.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you say with a serious voice, with no hesitation whatsoever. The look in Joel’s eyes as he peers over at you lets you know he’s appreciative of that comment.

“Good girl,” he praises, and fuck, you love when he talks like that.

You’re on Joel as soon as you enter his apartment. He’s walking backwards towards his room, trying to shake off his jacket as your lips attack his. His arm gets caught in the sleeve, and he grunts in frustration, but you don’t let up. It’s not like he cares, slipping his tongue into your mouth, making you moan.

“So eager,” he whispers against your lips, finally ridding himself of his offending garments. “Love how impatient you are,” he tells you. You don’t say anything, only nod and bring his lips back to yours, deepening the kiss.

Your hands tug at his shirt, and he gets the hint, momentarily breaking the kiss so he can pull the fabric over his head. His flexed chest turns you on, and you run your fingers possessively down the front of his body, following the happy trail. Your lips, with a mind of their own, press hot kisses to his skin, making him twitch under your touch.

You want him. You want every part of him. But before you can fall to your knees, he stops you. You frown, your adorable little pout asking him what the hell? But he only smiles and leads you over to his bed. He sits down and pulls you on top of him.

“I like when you’re on top,” he flirts. “Look good straddling me.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you tease, slotting your legs over his.

He smacks your ass lightly, making you jump forward, pressing against his chest. He looks up at you, grinning. “You’re it, sweetheart.”

You don’t know what that means. You hope it means you’re the only one he’s seeing. It has only been two days, and he’s been back in town for a while. He could have someone else. You don’t like that thought, but you feel like Joel’s not that kind of guy. He’d tell you if another woman were in the picture.

Your thoughts are cut short when you feel Joel kissing your neck. His tongue swipes over the forming goosebumps, and you gasp. He takes advantage and captures your lips again, sloppily kissing you as you grind on him. He’s hard, really hard. You wanna take care of that for him, but he’s insistent on having you where he wants you.

His rough hands roam up your back, under your tank top. He lightly scratches his nails against your silky skin causing you to arch into him. You pull away from him, tugging on his bottom lip. He chuckles as you raise your arms so he can take off your shirt, revealing a see-through lavender bra.

“Fuck me, you are gorgeous,” he says, reaching behind your back, undoing the golden hooks. Your hands reach up, pulling down the straps, tossing the lingerie to the floor. He swallows hard as you bare yourself to him. His hands reach up, cupping your breasts and massaging the flesh between his fingers. “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” Joel compliments.

For the millionth time that night, you feel yourself blush, and thank him by kissing his lips. His eyes are swimming with curiosity, and you know he has something on his mind. But if you’re not mistaken, he looks a little shy.

Truthfully, there is something Joel wants to try. It’s something he’s always wanted to do. But he’s never dared to bring it up until he met you. You’re so different and open and willing to experiment.

“What is it, Joel?” You ask, taking his hands in yours and kissing his fingers. He moves underneath you, his hardness poking your ass. There’s a pink dusting on his cheeks, and you hold back a giggle. He’s being so fucking cute.

“I mean, you don’t have to say yes,” he says nervously, pulling his hands away and resting them on your hips. Your skin is warm against his palms as he rubs your sides up and down.

“I know,” you smile, trailing your fingers down his chest. “I appreciate you saying that, though. But you can ask me anything, baby. You know I’m open to it.”

Joel glances at your chest and bites his lip. What if you hate him for asking? He looks so awkward, you think it’s endearing. He never looks this flustered. But the way he’s staring at your chest, you think you know what he wants to ask.

“You want a titjob?” You giggle, and he actually turns red. God, he’s cute. You like him so much. “Joel, it’s okay, I'm all for it,” you express, licking your lips. You reach down between the two of you, keeping eye contact as you go for his sweats. Your quick fingers undo the knot easily.

“Baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair.

He lets you pull his cock out of his pants, your soft hands sending a flutter throughout his stomach. He groans as you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly. “You can fuck my tits anytime you want,” you say with such innocence he almost comes then and there.

“Christ, you’re killing me,” he sighs, letting his head fall back.

You squeeze him before removing your hand, bringing it to your mouth. He groans as he hears you spit onto your palm and tenses at the feeling of you lathering him up. You jerk him quickly, and his eyes snap open. “You ready?” You ask, standing on your feet.

Joel nods, and you drop down to your knees. He leans back, hands splayed firmly on the mattress, staring in awe as you pinch your nipples. He closes his eyes as you guide his wet, leaking dick between your tits. The warm feeling that engulfs his length is indescribable, and he cannot believe you’re being this accessible to him. He’s never going to take that for granted.

His breathing is heavy as he slowly rocks himself up against you. His mind is turning to sludge at the way your tits swallow his cock. He thrusts his hips up in a steady rhythm, and you wet your lips before poking your tongue out, lapping at his tip with each lunge upwards. You moan as his precum smears across your lips, swiping the saltiness away with a flick of your tongue.

This whole tryst with Joel has been a surprise, from his untamed interest in you to his desire to be with you. But you have to admit, this right here, is something you never imagined happening. But you like it. You like how much he trusts you and how honest he is with his fantasies. You’re happy to be the one to fulfill his needs. Fuck, you have it bad.

His light moans send heat to your belly. He’s so attractive, sweating and panting from your movements. You want to make him feel good. You need to make him feel good. Your hands grasp your chest, and you move your breasts up and down his cock, dragging louder grunts out of him.

“Princess,” he pants, jerking his hips up. “I gotta fuck you. I need to be inside of you.”

“You sure?” You ask, squeezing your chest around him again. “You can cum right now, Joel. Cum on me,” you whisper.

“S-stop talking like that,” he groans and pulls you up. He takes you by surprise as he flips you over so your back hits the bed. You smile up at him, and he returns the gesture, dragging you to the edge of the mattress. He makes quick work of ridding you of your pants and the panties you ruined in the car. “So fucking sexy,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss you.

When he stands, he spreads your legs, sliding his hand up your right leg. His lips kiss your soft skin, wrapping a hand around your ankle to hold you up. He uses his other hand to pin your left leg down, making it easy to slip into you. You both gasp as your hips meet, the feeling of being this close to him gets better each time.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you rasp as he rocks his hips swiftly, pounding into your hot, wet pussy. You grab at your breasts, pinching them tight as your body shifts against his mattress. You think you’ll never get tired of the way he fucks you. He’s - as cheesy as it sounds - a God.

He looks up at the ceiling, moaning your name at how you feel around him. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but being with you is the happiest he’s been in a long time. And you’re fucking incredible in every way. He knows he’s a lucky man.

“Feel good, princess?” Joel asks, holding you tighter as he drags you into him, speeding up his movements. He hits that bundle of nerves inside of you each time, rough and fast, and you feel like you’re going to fall apart underneath him.

“Fuck me, Joel, yes, you feel so good,” you moan, your hands falling behind your head weakly, letting the older man use your body how he wants. He leans down on you, holding your thigh up to thrust into you deeper. His free hand squeezes at your tits as his lips meet yours in a needy kiss. The space between you fills with airy moans and obscene grunts, and it’s filthy and perfect.

Joel could fuck you forever. Your tight little body feels so fucking good beneath his, and your energy, the way you move, forces him to keep up with you in a way he hasn’t in years. You make him feel young, playful. And damn, you take him so well. He’s never felt so spry.

He stands back, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you up with him. Your leg rides up, angling over his shoulder, and you inhale as he fills you completely. He’s so thick and hard inside you, yet you want more. It’s not enough. His eyes meet yours, and you whimper. The feelings swirling inside of you are intense and a little scary. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You can't afford to fall for Joel this way.

“Darlin’, I love fuckin’ you,” Joel grumbles, slamming into you hard and fast. Your former thoughts are put on hold. “Love the way this pussy feels on my cock. I thought about you all day. Could barely get any work done. Kept thinking about how sweet you taste. How sexy you look when you cum. You take up all my thoughts, dollface.”

“Joel, don’t stop,” you moan, falling back against the bed once more. Your hand reaches down to your clit, intensifying the sensations that are already pulsating through your veins.

“I wanna make you cum, baby,” he purrs, replacing your hand with his. “I love watching that cute little face of yours when you do.”

“Fuck,” you’re panting, arching your back off the bed. Joel snaps his hips into you at a cruel pace, coaxing you to your climax. You can feel it bubble up inside of you, ready to break. Joel teases your clit and bites down on your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your flesh. “J-Joel!”

Your entire body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you. You can feel yourself shaking, clenching your walls tightly around Joel’s cock as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Joel chuckles at your response, feeling rather proud of himself. Not bad for an old man.

“Baby girl, gonna make me--” he cuts himself off as he groans, pinning your hands to the bed, giving you everything he has. “Fuck, fuck,” he gasps.

“Joel, cum inside me.” you beg him, lifting your hips up to meet his.

“Yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He teases, sweat beading on his forehead, trailing down his handsome face.

“God, yes, Mr. Miller, fill me up,” you urge him, rubbing your hands over his chest.

He curses under his breath, stilling inside you and moaning your name as he fills you with his seed. He collapses on top of you. And you welcome him, bringing your hand to his back, and scratching your nails over his skin lightly. You feel so content in this moment, you never want to leave.

“You okay?” Joel asks through heavy breaths.

“Perfect,” you assure him, kissing the top of his head. “I really need to shower, though,” you giggle.

Joel hums and pushes himself up, helping you up in the process. “Go ahead. I’ll put your clothes in the wash, leave something out for you to wear.”

“Mm, thanks, Mr. Miller,” you wink at him, making your way towards the bathroom.

After showering, you walk out to Joel’s room and find a flannel laid out on his bed for you. He has your clothes in the washer so you pad around his apartment wearing only his shirt. Before you got in the shower, he told you he was going to cook up some food for the two of you. So when you enter the kitchen area, a cheesy alfredo smell welcomes you.

“Damn, that smells amazing,” you sigh, taking a seat at the kitchen island as he cooks. He looks good standing over the stove, stirring sauce in a pot with a towel draped over his shoulder.

“Hope it tastes good,” he chuckles, pouring the sauce over the noodles and then pouring those noodles into two separate bowls. He places some freshly grated parmesan on the counter in front of you and grabs utensils before gliding his way over to sit next to you.

You accept the fork he hands you and twirl it in the bowl, collecting noodles around the tines. He watches as you take a bite, smiling at the satisfied look on your face. You let out a little moan, one he’s become quite familiar with, and he laughs.

“Joel, wow,” you voice, taking another bite. “Where did you learn to cook so well?”

He shrugs and begins eating. “Single dad, I guess. I tried to perfect everything for Sarah.”

Sarah. You were doing so well not thinking about her. Now you feel guilty again.

Before you have a chance to say anything else, Joel’s phone rings, startling you both. He scoffs and wipes at his face with a napkin before going to answer. “Tommy,” he mumbles, holding a finger up to excuse himself. “I’ll only be a moment, sweetheart,” he assures you.

You nod and continue eating the delicious food, pretending you’re not listening in on Joel’s conversation. What can you say? You’re a nosy bitch.

“No, I’m not comin’ out tonight,” you listen to Joel grumble. And although you can’t make out what Tommy’s saying, you can hear how loud he is on the other end of the line. He must be drunk already. “Because,” you hear Joel add. “I’m with someone.”

That grabs your attention, your ears perking up at the mention of you. He doesn’t say your name, but he’s admitting to his brother that he has company. You weren’t expecting that. Interesting development.

You can hear Tommy’s loud voice again, and you laugh. He’s so fucking chaotic. “No, I’m not tellin’ you,” Joel snaps at his brother. “Because you’re a pushy asshole. Leave me alone. I’m busy.” He huffs and hangs up the phone, tossing it onto the couch.

He walks back over to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Everything okay?” You ask him with a chuckle.

“He’s an idiot,” Joel rolls his eyes and takes his seat again. “He knows about us, by the way.”

You’re shocked, almost choking on your pasta. “Um, what?” You sputter out.

“Well, he doesn’t know the details,” he continues. “I’ve never confirmed anything, but he knows. He has to with how we've been hanging out.”

“Are you okay with that?” You ask curiously. Tommy knowing is kind of a big deal. He wouldn’t tell Sarah, obviously. But still.

“I am,” he claims, a smile on his lips. “Are you?”

“I am,” you reply, just as comfortable.

Series Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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If I Fell For You (Part 16) - Drowning

Summary: The reader’s night goes from bad to awful fast but thankfully Jensen shows up at the last second to stop things from getting any worse. But the guilt the reader feels over trying to end things with Jensen to protect him starts to become too much...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, being drunk, minor violence, scary situations, angst, fighting, fluff, offscreen death of minor character, anxiety, panic attack, minor injury

A/N: This chapter is a whirlwind! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was a close to an hour later and you were halfway through a bottle of bourbon, laying on the back porch of your mom’s house, staring at the rafters and debating finishing off the whole thing.

“Y/N?” you heard. Your skin crawled as you sat up, spotting your father at the other end of the wrap around. “Are you drunk?”

“This would be an appropriate time to tell you that yes, I am and I also have this,” you said, reaching behind your and picking up a hunting rifle. “I might be plastered but I think that’ll only improve my aim. I’ll be nice and shoot for your balls first.”

“You got so much wrong about me kid.”

You fired a shot near his feet and he held up his hands.

“Why don’t you go jump off a bridge or some shit,” you said.

“Y/N.”

You pulled the trigger as he took a step forward and he jumped when it hit the window nearby. You pulled again but it just clicked as he walked closer.

“Your new momma never taught you that kind of rifle only has two shots, did she,” he said. You tried to stand but got way too dizzy and fell down.

“Well I can still tear you apart with my teeth,” you said.

“You’re drunk and judging by your face, very upset. What happened to that boy you were with? I didn’t see him when I looked around.”

“Touch me and that boy will rip your head off.”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he said, stepping far too close for your liking. You swung the rifle at him but he caught it and kicked the bottle away before you could get at it. “All grown up. Probably enjoy it now.”

You crawled back as far as you could, eyes darting behind him when you saw movement. You barely caught the brown hair and green eyes before your father was face first on the porch. You tried to stand but he yanked on your ankle and pulled you down hard. It took a long time to peel open your eyes again, your father now at Jensen’s feet. Jensen pushed down on his back while he talked on the phone to someone and it didn’t take long to hear sirens in the distance.

“For the record,” said Jensen as he walked over to you and crouched down, his belt around your father’s wrists, “I didn’t believe you for a second. Oh and you’re a dumbass but you’re my dumbass. Forever. Got it?”

“I couldn’t…” you trailed off. He nodded and took off his flannel, wrapping it over your shoulders. “I knew he would do something and I couldn’t have him near the kids or know they exist. I couldn’t-”

“I know, honey,” he said. “But don’t you dare ever do anything like that again.”

You put your head down sniffled, dizzy still as he rubbed your back before going back to watching your dad.

It took an hour or so before you could go home and you were sober enough to stand on your own.

“Can I ask why you made the executive decision that you did?” asked Jensen, holding your arm loosely as you got into his car to head back.

“Because I’m stupid,” you said dryly from the passenger seat as he turned on his SUV.

“I mean more so why didn’t you come to me if you were scared? Why make up a lie?”

“You did let me go. You must have believed me at least for a few seconds,” you said.

“No, I actually didn’t.”

“You let me go.”

He was quiet until you got close to the brewery, Jensen pulling off onto the plot of land he owned next to it. You leaned your head against the cold window and he turned off the engine.

“This whole, tired, don’t talk to me attitude right now? Been there. Lived it. I know it’s bullshit.”

“You let me leave so you did believe me so-” you said, Jensen pressing a finger to your lips.

“I am certain of very few things and you are one of them. I let you go so I could figure out what scared you so badly you’d lie, to me. There’s only one thing I can think of so before you even had a foot out of that house, I was calling people and I got put on with Detective Finn who worked your case as a kid and I find out that dick for brains sack of shit just moved practically down the street from us. It does not take a genius to put the pieces together.”

“Fine! I did it in some stupid attempt to protect you,” you said. You glared at him and he shook his head. “What?”

“I’m not gonna get mad at you.” You put your head back on the window and stared out to the dark trees, sniffling some. “Why do you want me to be angry with you?”

“Uh because I didn’t forget to turn on the washing machine or leave on a light. I lied. I lied so big that-”

“You lied to protect your family from a monster. Do I wish you had told me? Yes. But I fuck up so much and you’ve never once been angry with me for making a mistake and I’ll never be angry with you for making one either. I know you want me to be angry with you, feel like you should be punished for what you imagine is hurting me. But you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. You didn’t and I know you get that because so many times you’ve been on the other side of this and I know you’ve never once thought, oh yeah Jensen’s a piece of shit, let him really have it. No. Just no. So I’m not getting mad at you and I don’t know what to fucking say to make you feel better like you always do me and I’m so sorry he got so close to hurting you again. But I’m really good at fighting monsters in this family. So please next time, I don’t care if you’re scared of the bug on the wall or you think someone’s outside the house or what it is. If you’re scared, tell me and I’ll do my best to make it go away, I promise.”

“What do you do when you want to hate yourself for being an idiot?” you asked quietly. You heard him shift in his seat and you shut your eyes, the sound of a door opening and then another. Strong arms wrapped around you and you buried your face in his chest.

“I try to treat myself as kindly as she does. She would never hate me and she hates when I’m in pain. I see it all over her face. So I try to cut myself some slack and ask myself if she would hate me and when I realize no, I’m forced to forgive myself and it normally takes a few hours but it works pretty good. A lot of hugs and cuddling don’t hurt either.”

“Thank you for stopping him.”

“Don’t.”

“Thank you. I owe you so, so much.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing. We got each other’s backs and that’s all there is to it. I’m just sad I missed you trying to shoot his dick off.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Find my iPhone. Also I figured that was a good place to check,” he said. “I would have been here sooner if Jared didn’t drive like a tortoise over to the house to watch the kids.”

“I’m sorry I scared you...and you had to do that tonight.”

“Oh punching your father was a personal highlight for me. Trust me,” he said. He stroked your cheek and you turned into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re safe.”

“He’s going to get out on bail and-”

“And we have a very good lawyer. Oh, and I know the mayor so fuck his ass, he’s not getting bail.”

You buried your face once again and he put a finger under your chin, lifting it up.

“You’re still scared.”

“He’s gonna get arrested for what, trespassing? Attempted assault? I was drunk and shot at him. He can spin it. He can spin it and be out on the street like that.”

“I’m going to ask the lawyer to do something else, something that maybe can take care of that problem.”

“What?”

“Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit. He’s been gone for fifteen years. I have this bad feeling you weren’t the only one. Or even before that.”

“Or maybe he just hates me.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna take care of it.”

“Jensen, I know you don’t have to worry about the money but it might still not be enough.”

“It’s enough,” he said. “Or else next time I’ll be the one with the rifle.”

“You would kill him?”

“Honestly? Yeah if it came to it. I wish people like him died in car crashes, not innocent ones. We have every right to protect ourselves and our family and I’m not letting him touch the kids or you ever.”

“I should probably say that’s bad but I don’t disagree.”

“Money works a lot. A real lot. Maybe he did something super bad and he can rot in prison forever.”

“Maybe,” you said, spotting a cruiser pull up nearby.

“Stay here, sweetie,” he said. He walked over while the officer got out. He spoke to Jensen for a moment, Jensen’s face a bit blank when he turned around.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your dad had a heart attack in the backseat,” said Jensen quietly. You cocked your head and he shook his. “Your father. In the police cruiser that was taking him for booking. He was just pronounced.”

“He died?”

“He was really overweight and didn’t look to be in the best health. He probably got his heart rate up too high and...the officer said he’d escort us home, stay outside the house for the night, calm our nerves.”

“He’s really dead?” you asked. You looked over at the officer and he came over, giving you a quick smile. “He really died?”

“Yes mam.”

“What...happens now?” you asked.

“We’ll file the report but you don’t necessarily need to press charges anymore. You’re next of kin as far as we’re aware so the body…” he trailed off when he looked at you. “We can talk about this with your lawyer.”

“Thanks,” said Jensen. “We’ll be on the road in a minute.”

The officer climbed back in his cruiser, Jensen leaning against the doorframe. He tucked your hair behind your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he said. He stroked your cheek, your head turning up. “What is it, honey?”

“I don’t feel bad at all. I’m actually happy. That kinda is freaking me out a little. You shouldn’t be happy someone died.”

“Most people you’re right, you shouldn’t. But there are exceptions. He tormented you. He harassed you. He came after our family. I’m gonna sleep just fine tonight knowing he’s never coming back in our lives.”

“Were you scared of him?” He ducked his head down and you took hold of his hand. “Jensen.”

“Put it this way, I’d protect my family by any means necessary. What scares me was what if I was five minutes later tonight. Ten minutes. My job is to protect you and especially from monsters like that.”

“I’m a big girl Jensen. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

“Yes I do, just like if it were me in your shoes I know you’d have done the same exact thing. We protect each other. It’s not because I’m the guy or I’m stronger. You’re my family and that’s what we do.”

“Thank you for protecting me and forgiving me for being stupid earlier,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“You’re my dumbass and I’m yours,” he said. “Want to go home now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“He’s really gonna spend the night?” you asked half an hour later in bed, Jensen shutting the door after himself. “He knows there’s a cop outside, right?”

“What can I say, Jared...he thinks of you like a little sister,” he said. “I can’t blame him for being protective.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said. You climbed out of bed and went downstairs, the light dim aside from where Jared was reading on the couch, a blanket over his legs. He looked over the top of the book and set it down, sitting up.

“Everything alright?” he asked. You smiled and took a seat on the edge of the couch, pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks for staying,” you said, a pair of large arms wrapped around your back.

“Of course.”

“You do know there’s nobody to bother us now, right?”

“I know. Some peace of mind never hurt anybody though,” he said. “Go on back to your fiance. You guys had a rough night.”

“Yeah,” you said, closing your eyes. “Thanks.”

He kissed your temple and you returned to your room, Jensen pulling you under the covers. You let out a deep breath, turning into his side.

“Here,” he said. He started to take off his bracelet but you shook your head.

“It’s yours, Jensen. I feel safe, I promise.”

“You’re tense still, honey.”

“Still working on that not being so angry at myself thing,” you said. He smiled and kissed you quickly, laying an arm over your waist. “I know what you said but I still want you to be pissed at me for lying.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But-”

“You didn’t hurt me, Y/N and you know what? Sometimes, you’re gonna hurt me and I’m gonna hurt you. We’ll have bad days and get annoyed with one another. I’ll leave dishes in the sink and make a mess of the closet. You’ll chew with your mouth open and never fill up your car with gas until it’s too low. We’re not perfect. But even if we do hurt each other, we forgive each other because that’s what you do. We’re not always gonna like each other and what we do but we’ll always love each other. I don’t want to be mad at you. I want you to feel safe and know that I understand why you did what you did. I do. Please try to let it go, for me.”

“I am trying,” you said quietly. You shut your eyes and turned away, his arm over you pulling you back against his chest. “You’re normal. I can’t just stop hating myself like that.”

“You think I’m normal?” he chuckled. “Me?”

“Did you ever have to punch Dee’s psycho father? Did you ever have to talk about protecting her? Did she ever put your family in danger? Did she ever-”

“Y/N.”

“Go away,” you said, pushing his arm off of you. You moved over farther on your side of the bed, tucking your covers under your chin. The bed shifted and you tried to move again but his arm pulled you straight back to his chest, fingers dipping under your ribcage and holding you in place.

“I might not have had to have done those things for her but I would have. For the record, you didn’t put anyone in danger. That fucking asshole did. It is not your fault he was an evil and vile person. All you did was try to protect us because you were scared and I know, I know you didn’t tell me because you’re so scared of that man and I don’t blame you. He made my skin crawl and I interacted with him for all of five minutes. Get it out of your system however you need to but you are stuck with me forever. There is nothing you could do to make me want you gone so get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” you breathed out. You pulled your sheets over your head, taking deep heaving breaths. “You have so much to worry about already. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Did you think I couldn’t handle the news?” he asked. “That your father was so close by?”

“I thought you’d hate me,” you whispered. He tugged down your sheets and you squeezed your eyes shut as he turned you around.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now you’re angry.”

“Look at me.” You forced them open, meeting a soft face and sad eyes. “Why would I ever hate you?”

“My shit’s supposed to stay in the past. You don’t…” you said, Jensen furrowing his brow. “See, you’re mad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Your shit stays in the past.”

“It means you’ve had the world’s worst fucking year and you’re in such a good place now and you need to focus on you and not have my shit come in and fuck that up.”

“Do you think I can’t take care of you?” he asked.

��No of course not.”

“It sounds like you’re saying that you think you can’t have problems cause I can’t handle it.”

“Well at least I got what I wanted with you pissed,” you said, glaring up at him, tears welling in your eyes. You tried to push away but he held his arm around you. “Jensen, let me up.” You pushed again and he glared right back. “Stop it. Let me out of bed.” He only glared and you tore your eyes away from his face.

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“No,” you said, keeping your head low.

“Then why-”

“Because you need a fucking break. I dealt with this shit years and years ago. I understand needing a fucking break and people need to take care of you, help you. You’re a different man than the one I met way back in January. You’re so happy and healthy and you have a different outlook on life again and that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you for that. But you’re just, just out of the woods and I’m not gonna be the one that sends you back in because of my fucking problems.”

“They’re our fucking problems,” he said. “Our problems. There’s no your problems or my problems anymore. It’s us together. Why do you think I’d hate you?”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing on his chest. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“I said stop!”

“Tell me.”

“Because I’m scared,” you said. He let his hold go lax and you sat up, getting out of bed. You walked over to the balcony door and rested your forehead against the cool glass. The bed creaked and you felt his presence behind you.

“You’re scared of me.” You scrunched up your face and nodded. “Why?”

“Because if you realized how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t come near me with a ten foot pole. I’m not supposed to cause you problems. I’m supposed to fix them, be there for you.”

“But I can’t be there for you. You assume I’m just a dick where it’s only me and my shit that we can work on right?” he said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Relationships go both ways, Y/N. I don’t expect you to take care of me for the rest of my life. You are allowed to need help too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. He was frowning, his voice an octave higher if you didn’t know any better. “Do you honestly think I would have been angry at you if you told me about your father being in town? Do you?”

“I put the kids-”

“For the last time, you didn’t put anyone in danger,” he growled. “What is going on with you?”

“How many times do I have to say it, I’m not supposed to cause any problems!” you said.

“Yes you are! You, me, the kids. We’re all gonna have fucking problems sooner or later. Why do you think I’d hate you for telling me you had a problem, sweetheart?”

You fidgeted with the bottom of your shirt, looking past him.

“Something with your dad, isn’t it. Something got triggered in you after that phone call with the detective, didn’t it.”

“Call Ray. Tell him to come over,” you said quietly. He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick message before he was guiding you to sit on the bed.

“Honey,” he said when you pulled away from him. “Okay, no touching. Can I get you anything while we wait for Ray?”

“Probably should tell that cop that we’re expecting someone,” you said, rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Fuck, tell Ray it’s the help thing. He’ll understand.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. You rubbed your legs harder and he stared at you. “Y/N.”

“I’m trying not to have a panic attack,” you grit out. “I haven’t had one since I was eight.”

Your head was turned and you felt his hands on your cheeks, Jensen forcing a smile. You stared for a long beat before you took a breath, his head nodding.

“That feels better,” you said, your hands not rubbing so hard. You heard feet and the door open, glancing behind Jensen to catch Jared in the doorway. You could feel your heart rate pick up, Jared nodding.

“I get panic attacks too,” he said. You nodded and Jensen glanced over his shoulder. “I heard arguing.”

“Can you tell that cop outside Ray is coming by and to let him in?” said Jensen.

“Sure. Who’s Ray?” asked Jared.

“Her mom’s old boyfriend and foster dad. He was her therapist when she was little. Something’s not right,” said Jensen.

“I’ll send him up as soon as he gets here.”

You felt calmer by the time Ray was walking in fifteen minutes later in sweats and not much more.

“Hey kiddo,” said Ray, giving you a quick hug before he squatted down in front of you. “Doing okay?”

You shook your head and shut your eyes, Jensen holding an arm around you. He explained what happened, Ray staying quiet. You eventually opened your eyes to stare at the floor, Ray standing and pulling over the bench from the end of the bed to sit on.

“Y/N do you want Jensen to stay?” he asked. You nodded and he hummed. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you said dryly. “Can I have some water?”

Jensen got up and retrieved a glass from the bathroom, the pair of them watching you chug half of it down before you sat it on the nightstand.

“Y/N, does Jensen know what triggered you?” he asked.

“Not specifically. Asking for help he figured out but not the reason,” you said, looking away.

“Well on the bright side, you didn’t have a panic attack, you worked through it, you trusted Jensen to help you through it even if he didn’t know why and some of your coping skills helped you out quite a bit. But this is something Jensen needs to know. You’ll need help in a relationship and I know this is the big one but he needs to know so this never happens again,” said Ray.

“What if he thinks I overreacted?” you said.

“I won’t, trust me,” said Jensen. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Go on, Y/N,” said Ray. You took a deep breath and Jensen held your hand, stroking his thumb over the back.

“So you kinda figured out that me having a problem was the trigger and that I didn’t ask for your help earlier and kinda assumed a bad reaction if I did.”

“Yup and that’s all okay,” he said softly.

“It wasn’t because of you that I assumed you’d have a bad reaction. It was something that happened to me that sort of...default my head to react and anticipate things in a certain way in that particular situation.”

“So if you have a problem and ask for help, you assume the person you’re asking for help from will not take it in a good way?” he asked.

“Yeah, basically. If it’s a really big problem and if I anticipate that the problem would upset the person I’m asking then my head assumes this bad thing will happen. In that case, it assumes the much better option is to not reveal the problem at all and handle it myself because then the bad thing won’t happen,” you said.

“The bad thing. It’s bad isn’t it,” he said. “Really bad.”

“Y/N, remember you can share without the graphics involved,” said Ray. You nodded and leaned your head back.

“When I was six I broke something of my dad’s. A mug. His favorite mug. I picked up the pieces but I knew it was his favorite so I didn’t throw it out. I asked him for help putting it back together,” you said. “The amount of rage he had over a broken mug...I never experienced such a horrible day in all eight years as that one.”

He didn’t say anything and you tucked your feet up, holding one up to him and showing the bottom. He stared at it and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. It took him a moment but you saw when he noticed the small little scars. His eyes flickered back to yours and you nodded.

“He hurt me badly,” you said. “All day long.” He stared at you and you told him exactly the way the scars came to be, Jensen shuddering and closing his eyes. “It wasn’t a good day.”

“Fuck,” he said, standing up and rubbing his arm. “You were six?”

He shook his head and went to the balcony door, taking a deep breath.

“Jensen. You alright?” asked Ray.

“No,” he said, turning around, looking to you. “That many times?”

“One for every broken piece,” you said. He ran his hands over his face and shut his eyes. “The worst thing was just that it went on all day. It was long enough for me to interpret it as conditioning for a result of an event rather than just a bad memory from everything me and Ray worked out back in the day. It hasn’t been a trigger for me ever really but we knew it could be someday for a big life problem potentially. I’m guessing with it involving my dad, it kinda sent me into overdrive earlier.”

“Jensen,” said Ray, shooting you a quick glance. “Y/N’s okay. I’m actually quite impressed with her behavior. There was no hesitancy or waiver in her voice. I don’t feel as though this will likely be an issue ever again now that it’s out in the open and her father is gone.”

“You’re the closest thing to a father she’s ever had,” said Jensen, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know every horrible thing that’s happened to her and, and you just...all you did was throw him out of the country for fifteen years?”

“First off, the law was different back then and it was a lifetime ban. Second of all, buddy, violence isn’t always the answer to violence,” said Ray, getting to his feet.

“You should have adopted her.”

“She didn’t want me to.”

“You were the damn adult. She was the kid. Act like one,” said Jensen. “I mean fuck, you adopted two other kids only a few years later.”

“If I had adopted her you wouldn’t even know she fucking exists,” shot back Ray. “Her father still would have come back and this would have happened regardless.”

“You should have done what you needed to the second he popped up again when she was a teenager.”

“I did not strike you as a violent man but I do not like it.”

“She was almost assaulted by that man again tonight,” growled Jensen. “He tortured her and tormented her and he got barely any time at all for that. I would have-”

“Why’d you call the police then?” he asked. Jensen swallowed and Ray shrugged. “Why back at the farmhouse did you call the police? You could have killed him, called it self-defense and been done with it. Why?”

Jensen looked down and Ray sighed.

“The price for being a good person is making hard decisions, Jensen. Would I have loved to have rid the world of that son of a bitch the second I learned all about him? Oh you don’t know the half of it. I’m a trauma therapist, Jensen. Mostly for kids and teenagers. Do you know how much fucked up shit I’ve heard in my life? The world has so much ugliness in it. But it’s got good too and that’s why you called the police like you were supposed to and that’s why she loves you. She needs a good man, not a violent one. I’m not saying don’t think about protecting your family. But don’t act on it unless you don’t have a fucking choice, kid. Understand me?”

Jensen nodded and Ray cleared his throat.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jensen quietly.

“Ray, don’t get mad at him. He’s not used to this stuff,” you said. You stood and pulled Jensen back to the bed, Ray crossing his arms and nodding. “If I ever feel this happening again, what should I do?”

“You could work on reconditioning instead,” said Ray. “Work on saying I have a problem to Jensen and ask for help, even if there isn’t a problem. If Jensen responds positively or even neutrally and you two work at it maybe an hour or so a day for the next week or two, I don’t think you’ll ever have to be afraid of that trigger coming back. All of your triggers Y/N have involved your father. I know similarities can set you off but they’re small, manageable. You never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.”

“I know. I should have trusted my partner to have my back,” you said.

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t before and I definitely don’t now,” said Jensen. Ray smiled and pulled the bench back over to the bed.

“Get some rest you two,” he said.

“Ray?” you said after he gave you a hug. “Why didn’t you adopt me?”

“Honestly?” he asked. You nodded, Jensen preening his ears. “You reminded me so much of your mother and I was devastated when we lost her. I should have been the adult and done what was right but after seeing her in pain for years...I didn’t have it in me to take on a grieving teenager that would have been just as angry back at me. She already was so angry then, I would have put fuel on the flames. I didn’t have it in me to be strong anymore and that’s my mistake for not trying.”

“You can adopt adults,” said Jensen. You both looked at him and he smiled. “Adults can be adopted.”

“Not sure if…” trailed off Ray as you smiled at him. “Y/N, we’ve only just started talking again.”

“Maybe if that keeps going well...maybe things could...work out…” you said. “If you wanted.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said with a smile. “It’s getting late. Put her to bed. Don’t be surprised if there’s a nightmare or two tonight.”

“Okay. Thank you,” said Jensen as Ray started to leave.

“Take care of her kid,” he said. Jensen nodded and you lay back in bed, the house growing quiet.

“I’m so sorry,” said Jensen, his head lowering after a few moments. “I should have realized…”

“You did realize,” you said, sitting up. “Even when my head couldn’t come out and say I trust you and I know I’m acting a certain way because of what my dad put me through, you stayed calm and figured it out. You got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I got to pretend to be a cowboy and my dad read me stories when I was six. The worst thing I ever got was a few smacks but I know he regrets doing that,” he said. “Even then it was because I was acting out not…I just don’t understand why he would ever hurt you.”

“I stopped trying to understand him a long time ago,” you said, the door opening. You both turned, Arrow walking in with a pair of wet eyes. “You have a nightmare, sweetie?”

“I went…to the bathroom…” she said when you noticed her holding her wrist. Jensen hopped up and walked over, picking her up gently and setting her beside you. “I fell down off the step stool. It was wet.”

“Tell me what hurts,” he said.

“My hand,” she said.

“Let daddy see,” you said. She moved her hand back and you both saw her wrist was swollen and bruised. Jensen swore under his breath and guided her hand back on it. “Okay, you hold it if it feels better that way, honey. Daddy, I think Arrow should go to urgent care.”

“Arrow, why don’t you go get your dolly and we’ll bring her with us. We might have to wait a minute,” he said. “Be careful okay? I’ll come get you in just a minute.”

“Mommy?” she asked, staring up at you.

“Mommy’s really tired-” said Jensen when you stood up.

“Uncle Jared is staying over though, daddy. Go get your dolly and mommy and daddy will get dressed,” you said. She sniffled but climbed down okay, Jensen sighing when she left the room. “She wants me there and I want to be there. I’m going.”

“Alright but you’re going to try and get some sleep in the waiting room at least, please.”

“No promises.”

________

A/N: Read Part 17 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 6

sketch

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, romantic vegetable chopping, the chapter of realizing things

AN: Well, it’s been six fucking months, but it’s finally here!! It’s a little shorter than I’d prefer, and took a lot of iterations to get here, but I’m very satisfied:) Thanks, as always, to my lovely @doinmybesthere for editing and encouraging. I hope you all enjoy! I think there’re maybe 1 or 2 parts left in this story, that’ll hopefully be out more quickly than I managed this one. Please let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 5 here)

Finals week passes in a slow blur, barely leaving enough time for you to breathe between essays, exams, and one presentation that you think takes at least a year off the end of your life. It’s much the same for everyone else, as well — you barely see Levi, not counting the nights you spend alternating between your bed and his, and you don’t see Hange at all. Consequently, there’s no opportunity to break apart what happened on Saturday. No chance to peel back its layers and find how you really feel. Although, to her credit, Annie doesn’t appear again, so you’re able to shove it into a corner of your mind for the time being.

Saturday brings with it both a new winter storm and an overwhelming sense of relief. You let it fill you completely as you sit and watch snow swirl outside. The street below your kitchen window is bustling with students trying to outrun the storm to get home for vacation. But you have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s nice.

The door opens, bringing with it the stomping of Levi’s boots. You turn to watch him shake snow from his hair, sinking deeper into the reassurance of knowing that everything you need is here under your roof. Safe.

Hmm. What the fuck?

You choke on the next sip of your tea as the realization of what you just felt hits you square in the chest. Through your coughing and hacking, you reach again for that fleeting sense of home. Childish, content, warm.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls from the entrance, looking at you with pinched brows halfway through hanging up his jacket.

“Fine,” you cough out, pushing back from the table to hunch over and catch your breath. “I’m okay.”

It takes a moment for you to stop breathing hard, though when you do, your heart rate doesn’t return to normal, instead pushing blood to your face and neck and making your body feel light. Levi doesn’t help when he finally joins you in the kitchen, all floppy hair and bright cheeks from the snow. All leisurely about the way he stretches his lean body to take his favorite blend of Earl Grey from the top of the fridge.

“I was thinking about dinner,” he starts, completely oblivious to the way you’ve started sweating under your cardigan. “We shouldn’t order because of the snow, so I brought home stuff to make soup.”

“What kind?” It’s a miracle the words come out normally.

“Chicken noodle.” He turns to face you. “My mom’s recipe.”

—

“I don’t get why guys are always so uppity about kitchen knives,” you say, picking up what Levi’s told you is a utility knife. “Like, it’s just a knife. I’m not about to stab myself with it.” Your finger drags along its sharp edge for only a split second when Levi’s slim fingers are suddenly around your wrist.

“Don’t. Touch. The knives,” he growls, taking the utility knife gently from your other hand and placing it back on the counter. “I just sharpened them last week, you could’ve seriously cut yourself.”

His steel eyes hold yours for another long moment until you nod your head mutely. You haven’t been able to shake the knot of hyperawareness that’s been settled in your belly since your what the fuck moment, and it only twists tighter when he’s so close to you. His hair is dry now, curling slightly because he hasn’t bothered to comb it since he got home. You have to actively resist the urge to twist a particularly enthusiastic curl around your finger in the split second before he backs away again.

Muttering under his breath, he returns to the simmering pot on the stove that he claims has turned into stock, though you hardly believe it. Growing up, you’d never been taught kitchen skills, let alone anything close to actual labor.

For a while, you’re content to watch, sitting at the table and nursing both the ache in your chest and a fresh cup of chamomile, but the urge to join him in his quiet work overwhelms you as he’s washing the vegetables.

“Levi, please, can I help?” Your tone edges on whining, prompting him to huff and shift on his feet. “I promise I won’t touch the knives! There, just, must be something I can do.”

You see him roll his eyes, swear under his breath, then turn towards you with a glower.

“No talking, no questions, and go wash your hands.”

“Yes!” you cheer and stand up with a bounce.

The scent of the bar of soap as you lather and wash cuts pleasantly through the spices and thick scents already filling the kitchen. It’s not something you’ve experienced often, and you relish in what you realize must be home comfort, your grin settling from enthused to contented.

Levi is arranging carrots, celery, and onions next to the cutting board when you join him again.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch the knives?”

“You’re not, until I show you how to do it without chopping off your fingers.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you tease, but nevertheless settle in beside him to watch as he lines up a carrot and picks up the utility knife.

“We’re generally going for even pieces, though it doesn’t matter much because it’s a soup. Put your fingers like this,” you lean over a bit to see how he’s arranged his left hand holding the carrot, the tips of his fingers just barely tucked under the knuckles, “so that you can chop like this—“ he begins slicing, knife guided by his knuckles “—and not lose your fingers. Always point the blade away from yourself and others, and never hold the handle like you’re going to stab something. That’s not effective, anyway. If you have to use this as a weapon, it’s much more effective to slash rather than stab, considering bone density—“

“Uhh,” you cut in, “pause. Are we slicing carrots or fending off home invaders?”

He stops chopping. “What did I say about asking questions?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Anyway. Considering bone density, you’ll have better luck aiming to cut big veins than forcing through ribs.”

He’s done with the first carrot, now, lithe fingers flipping the knife so the blade is up.

“Never drag the blade along the surface sideways. Flip it over and use the blunt edge to move food.” He demonstrates, moving the little pile of carrot slices to a corner of the cutting board. “Your turn.”

And then, like it’s nothing, he’s offering you the handle with a flat expression.

“Uhm.” You press your lips together and eye it for a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a carrot. You’ll be fine.” He lets another unsure moment slide into being, then sighs and reaches out to wrap your hand around the handle. “Here, like this.”

And like you’ve suddenly stepped into a poorly-written romcom, he’s guiding your hands under his to the next waiting carrot, curling your fingers exactly like he showed you before, and scooting over to let you stand in his place. You just let yourself go along with it, hoping desperately that he won’t feel your hands grow clammy or see the way your chin has tucked itself shyly to your chest so you can watch.

Fucking shit carrots, useless goddamn root vegetable, can’t chop itself, has to make me do all the work—

Your aggressive inner monologue takes you all the way through the second carrot, then his hands are leaving yours and he’s placing a third under your waiting blade. Time to fly solo.

—

When you fall asleep in the armchair that night, sated and full of comfort food, Levi sketches in pencil on scrap paper. He sketches his hands over yours in the kitchen and he sketches the steam rising from the pot on the stove. He sketches you sitting with a bowl of soup in your lap, face illuminated by the TV and he sketches your sleeping body curled up, hair in your mouth. He sketches a close-up of your face, with special attention to the curve of your bottom lip, and he considers it practice for finishing the painting in his room.

Levi doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t do something soon, all of this will change. About how you’ll get over your heartbreak and move out at the end of the year and he won’t see you every day and every night. And he definitely doesn’t think about how he’ll have to adjust back to sleeping without your soft body tangled in his, and he doesn’t wonder how he ever slept before you.

No, instead of thinking, he just cracks his knuckles and gently scoops you from the chair and into his arms.

It’s as he’s climbing into his side of your bed that you stir and snort and blink sleepy eyes open.

“What time is it?”

“Ten forty,” he whispers, “go back to sleep.”

You hum and turn on your side to face him, face half hidden by the squish of your pillow. He settles more comfortably in, tucks your head under his chin even though you’re taller than he is, and drapes his free arm around the curve of your waist.

Quiet breathing is the only thing that fills the room for a long while, and he finally thinks you’ve drifted back off, when:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’ve been thinking a lot, and...”

The tone of your voice is odd and it makes Levi’s throat seize up for a moment while you hesitate. He swallows deliberately.

“And?”

Your next words are more confident, like you have really been thinking a lot, your voice not sleepy in the slightest. It’s matter-of-fact and soft and lovely.

“And you make me feel really safe. Just, like, all the time. And I’m glad I met you. You make me feel, um...,” a small sniffle, “You make me feel held.”

Levi tightens his arm around you and swallows again. It feels like he’s balancing on the head of a pin, and a thousand angels are swirling around him, and it’s taking all he has not to get pushed off.

“Well, I am holding you.”

“Psssssht,” you wriggle slightly back so you can look at his face. You look simultaneously exasperated and vulnerable in the shadows of your bedroom. “You know what I mean.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Well, I guess...”

You pause to think for a moment, eyes flicking away from Levi’s face for a split second. Then, they’re back on his and he can feel the vulnerable honesty already spilling from you.

“I’ve never really, um, gotten a lot of physical affection? From people in my life? And, uh, it’s not just that, it’s that you’re so... so— so familiar, and not just because I know you, godimnotmakingalickofsense, but because it feels like I’ve always known you?” It’s said like a question, like you want to know if he feels the same. “And you just make me feel held.”

You pause on a shaky inhale of breath, then cover your face with your hands and roll onto your back away from him.

“God, I’m sorry, that doesn’t make any sense at all, I’ll just—“

“Stop,” Levi cuts you off, pushing up to lean over you and grasp your wrists in one hand and cover your mouth with the other, a mirror of the pair of you in the kitchen weeks earlier. “It makes sense. I get it.”

Your doe eyes stare up at him just like they did then and he selfishly indulges in an extra second of staring back before he releases you and slides back to rest on an elbow. Your hands stay demurely tucked by your chest where he put them and your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips as your eyes follow him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. Good.”

Suddenly, Levi doesn’t feel like going to bed. He feels like running for miles or painting until his hands ache or hitting something, anything to distract him from doing something incredibly stupid right now. The mattress sinks as he sits up and spins his legs out of bed, muttering something about tea and not tired yet, and he almost doesn’t catch the sensation of you sitting up behind him.

He turns halfway back to tell you to go back to sleep, but your fingers catch his chin and he’s abruptly out of breath.

The curve of your bottom lip is perfectly, exactly the way he sketched it in the semi-dark. It’s slightly chapped.

When you kiss him, soft and certain, he topples off the pinhead and back into his body just in time to do something incredibly stupid and kiss you back.

—

(read part 7 here)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kiyojin fanfic #female!reader #levi ackerman #fluff #swearing #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years

Text

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver��s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #hero #villain #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #ive donated blood exactly once #thanks again for the medical expertise #don’t lie on medical forms pls ppl #chaotic good heroes #protective villain

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

The New Kid

A Mark fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: the new kid in town is nerdy, quiet, and cute. The two of you grow close, but could he be hiding a secret that might put your life in danger?

Pairing: Spider-Man!Mark x female reader (Mary Jane?)

Other Characters: best friend!Haechan, Ex-Boyfriend!Jeno, Villain!Taeyong

Genre: Superhero! Sci-fi, fluff (enemies? more like awkward classmates to lovers), some angst and violence, comedy, a little suggestive?

Warnings: a little cursing, minor mentions of verbal abuse, gun usage, some violent acts, blackmail, hostage situation

Word Count: 10K

(A/N: alright well..this shouldn’t have been this long but I had a lot of fun with this one so I hope you enjoy it😂, Spider-Man Mark is just so adorable my heartssnsjksjsjksk. Also..barely proofread, so mistakes, I know they’re there, but I pretend I do not see them😌)

—————

“Good morning class! Everyone please welcome our new student, Mark Lee!”

Your teacher held her arm out as she welcomed Mark in your Chemistry class.

Your head snaps up from your notebook.

A boy with round eyes and short brown wavy hair walks in.

“Hi..” he gives a thin smile and a small wave.

Your first thought is of how adorable he is. Your second thought is of how he looks nervous to enter a new school just a month after the year has started.

The class is silent with the exception of a few sniffles and music blasting through headphones.

Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here.

You didn’t really have anything against him, you just loved having a table all to yourself.

“Please..sit beside y/n, for now.”

Damn it.

Mark pulled the chair out and sat beside you.

“...hi.” He said as he placed his backpack down.

“Hi.” You raise your eyebrows and open your notebook.

You just had to sit next to the awkward new kid. Perfect.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

You and Mark worked on your first project together. You had to come up with a presentation for the fall science fair, so you had to work well together.

“It’s a chance for you guys to get to know each other and build yourselves!” Your teacher said excitedly but the truth was that you weren’t thrilled to be working with anyone.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Mark.

“Alright..where do we start?”

“Well, the instructions say to combine water and salt first, so I guess we’ll start there.” Mark puts his round glasses on and smiles at you, but you frown.

“Okay, you’re the nerd so..” you raise your brows.

Mark chuckled. “We barely know each other.”

“Come on, who in the world wears glasses like that, You look like Harry Potter.”

“I love that movie, is that a bad thing?” Mark asked with genuine confusion.

“Harry Potter is great and all, but what horror movies do you like?” You started to doodle in your notebook.

You loved horror movies, you loved autumn and everything dark and dreary about it.

“Hmmm..I don’t watch horror movies..”

You gasp and drop your pen. “You don’t..watch horror movies?” Your eyes widened like you had been hurt deeply by his lack of taste.

He returned the same look of shock. “They’re not my thing.”

“Aish..what a loser..” you say under your breath.

You turned back to your notebook and continued to doodle.

“So where are you from anyway, Potter?”

“I’m from Toronto.”

“I see, and this little town looked appealing to your parents, didn’t it?”

He nods and looks at the side of your face, noting how under your bleak persona and poor attitude, was a pretty face and gentle touch. He could tell from the way you delicately drew in your book.

His senses also picked up on your relaxed blood pressure and steady breathing.

He saw every pore and heard every breath you took, your lashes looked extremely long as well, bringing about a dazzling gorgeousness to your eyes.

The very surface of your round lips was soft and plump, there was a shade new to him that rested at the center.

“Mark?” You turned to him.

He quickly looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Y-yeah..I’m living with my aunt here..my parents passed away a while ago.”

“Oh..I’m sorry..” you looked down at the table.

“Hey. You don’t have to feel bad about it..”

Mark smiled softly as he heard your heart rate speed up from nervousness.

“Mark..I-“ the bell rang and you thanked the heavens for it.

Mark turned and grabbed his bag before you could say anything else. “Well, I’ll catch ya later.”

“‘CaTcH yA LAtEr’” you mocked him to lighten the mood. “Yeah, Potter, I guess we’ll work more next time..”

He laughed.

His eyes became small lines and his cheeks puffed up, he was adorable, like a kid in a candy store.

You turned away before your face became hot.

———

[1 Month Later]

“The new kid is kinda cute..” Haechan took a sip of his juice while the two of you ate lunch.

“God, I wish I was in your class, do you think the counselor will change my class schedule now if I come up with a dumb excuse?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think she will, and even if she did, why would you want to be in a class with that nerd?”

Mark was sitting by himself at a table in the corner, he was reading a book while chewing chicken tenders.

Haechan pouted. “But just look at him..I bet he’s the best kisser, do you see those lips?”

“Ew Haechan! He’s my partner in class, I don’t want to think about his lips!” You gagged and started to peel your banana.

Mark could hear you, he could hear everyone’s conversations in the cafeteria for little did you know of his secret.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t give him a chance, even though you gave a notorious school douchebag named Jeno one?” Haechan glared at you.

You kicked his shin under the table. “We don’t say that name here anymore.”

Haechan hissed. “You’re closer than I’ll ever be to that cutie..you better take advantage of that, I bet he’s super nice too.” He rested his chin in his hands as he swooned over Mark.

You rolled your eyes then locked eye contact with Mark just as you stuffed the banana into your mouth. You were frozen. The banana was about halfway in and Mark never let your eyes go.

You chomped on it and looked away.

Mark giggled and went back to reading his book.

“You open your mouth pretty wide for a girl that doesn’t know how to use it..” Jeno snickered as he walked by your table.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t come up with a quick comeback, but luckily, that’s what Haechan was there for.

“Oh, shut up, big head. Like you could fill anyone’s mouth with that chicken nugget of a wee wee!”

You nearly choked and covered your mouth as you laughed.

Mark, who was over 30 feet away, laughed too.

Jeno quickly turned around to walk back to your table, but ended up colliding into Taeyong, the scary and filthy rich senior that everyone stayed away from.

Him and his posse, complete with Yuta and Johnny, were tall seniors that gave everyone death glares. Even the teachers weren’t safe. Taeyong’s father was the wealthiest man in town, he was a kingpin so he possessed a lot of power.

Jeno raised his hands. “Whoa, bro, I’m sorry.”

Taeyong steadied himself and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The entire cafeteria froze, you all had never seen anyone get in their way. Taeyong walked around in black clothing and never took his hands out of his pockets for it ruined his nonchalant attitude.

The black haired boy crossed his arms and stepped towards Jeno.

“If I were in the mood..I’d tell you to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness..” his intense gaze made Jeno tremble. Hell, even you swallowed hard from fear.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Taeyong’s mouth tilted into a smile, he rubbed his thumb along the side of Jeno’s face. Johnny and Yuta stood behind him while they smirked and chuckled at Jeno’s subordinance.

“I know it won’t.”

He walked away and out of the cafeteria.

Jeno scurried back to his group of friends while the rest of the students resumed their lunch.

Mark didn’t like the sound of this guy. He knew who his father was and he knew that he would be the only that could stop him and save the innocent lives threatened by him.

Later that day, you were getting ready to leave school when Haechan popped up behind your locker as you closed it.

“Shit!” You jumped when he popped up.

He cackled. “You know, for someone that watches a lot of horror films, you sure do get scared pretty easily.”

You huffed and swung your backpack over your shoulder. You didn’t notice Mark behind you and your bag nearly smacked him in the face, but thanks to his senses, he ducked quickly.

“Y/n!” Haechan saw Mark behind you.

“What?” You said as you turned.

Mark was there behind you, squatting below you awkwardly and looking up at your face.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get a peak of something down there?”

Mark shot up straight and shook his head.

“N-no, no I’m sorry I was just..I know we are a little behind..but I was wondering if you wanted to work on the project together after..school, or-or something..” he looked nervous to talk to you. He kept looking to the side to dodge your eyes.

“I can’t today..I’m-“

Haechan butt in excitedly. “Oh! That works perfectly! Y/n, I was actually coming to tell you that I can’t go to the movies tonight! I have to do some extra work with my partner too! We can all study at Starbucks!”

You turned to him and glared. ‘What the hell’ you mouthed.

His eyes grew. ‘Just say yes’ he mouthed while nodding towards Mark.

Mark still looked to the side.

“Fine..meet us at the Starbucks on 10th at 5..loser.” You gripped the strap of your bag while walking away.

Mark chuckled at the nickname you gave him. He thought you were different, cute, but different.

At Starbucks, Mark was there before you were and ordered coffee for you.

“For me?” Your eyes widened.

Mark nodded and smiled widely. “Yeah! I don’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I got it black but everything is over there if you-“

You giggled and Mark swore he saw heaven when you smiled. “I know how it works, Mark, thank you for this.”

You rarely said his name, but he felt weak when you did.

Haechan and his lab partner joined the two of you. You did some more research for your project and talked about it while Mark jotted down important notes.

Haechan and his partner, Renjun, were supposed to be doing the same thing, but Haechan was too busy staring at Mark’s eyes.

“Haechan..Haechan!” Renjun tapped his hand.

They continued to work and as everyone got more tired, you noticed that Mark wasn’t jotting down notes like he did in the beginning. He was watching you talk, he liked watching your lips move and hearing your soothing voice. His eyes were locked on your face; it made your heart tremble.

“Mark?” You raised your brows and bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah..yeah!” He shook his head to come out of his daze.

“Did you catch anything I said? You've been staring for at least five minutes now..”

“I was..focusing.” Mark averted his gaze to the ceiling.

You shook your head. “You’re weird, Potter.”

Mark licked his lips and looked at the table. “I’m sorry I’m just a bit tired..”

“Me too! I think we should call it a night!” Haechan stretched his arms out and up high.

He cleared his throat as you all started to pack your things away.

“Mark..so we’re all going to the movies to see that new horror film, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” tomorrow. Wanna come?”

You kicked his shin again.

“Mark doesn’t like horror movies.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “Well, I only said I don’t watch them, not that I don’t like them..”

You sighed.

“Perfect! So we’ll see you tomorrow at 8! This is so exciting, it feels like a date!”

“Haechan!” You stood up from the table, glaring into his skull once again.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up too. The four of you walked towards the door.

Mark only laughed awkwardly.

“Hey.. y/n..”

You paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Will you be alright..getting home at this time?”

You laughed out. “I’m fine..I take the bus at this time all the time!”

Mark nodded.

He was caring and it was strange for you, for someone to genuinely care about you for the first time in a while.

He had his own car. An old Hyundai that got him where he needed to be. He had parked it outside of the Starbucks.

He waited with you at the bus stop right outside. Haechan took Renjun home.

“We can wait in my car if you want..it’s kinda cold out here.” He asked as you pushed your hands into your hoodie and shivered.

“My mother told me to never get in cars with strangers.” You turned to him and smiled.

He chuckled and stepped forward on his toes.

“Well, if that’s what you consider me to be then..I won’t push you..”

You shook your head. “Mark..you’re weird..I was just teasing, take me to your chariot before I freeze to death, please.”

You got into his car and the two of you sat in silence.

You checked your phone and saw that your bus was running about 20 minutes late.

You sighed and leaned back into his car seat.

“Do you like this town so far?” You looked out the window as you spoke.

Mark loved being near you, you calmed him down and his senses didn’t go crazy like they usually did. Sometimes everything was so unbearable, but not when he was around you. He was happy that no one was in danger while he spent the evening with you.

“It’s..alright..” he spoke honestly, finding it difficult to lie about how he struggled to adjust to his new life, without his uncle, without his hometown friends, without his “normal, super power-less” life. He had been bitten by a spider and given these powers just a few months before moving.

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course..” he swallowed hard as he remembered playing basketball with his buddies.

“And your girlfriend..”

You let it slip out before thinking. Why did you care?

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend..”

You turned to him with bunched up brows. “Boyfriend?”

Mark giggled. “I don’t have either..why do you ask?”

He smirked as he tilted his head.

You scoffed. “Oh, Potter, don’t give me that look..I just wanna know more about you.”

“What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

You swallowed hard. “Well..I think this town is boring..my parents are divorced and missing half the time..I broke up with my asshat of a boyfriend, Jeno, before school started..and now I’m stuck here with the school loser.”

“Stuck?” Mark raised his brows. “You can jump out any time you want and stand in the cold.”

You put your hand on the door handle but he quickly leaned over and placed his hand on yours. Your breath hit his neck. He turned to you with wide eyes as he realized that he was actually touching you.

You froze.

He froze as well. “I’m..I’m kidding, you shouldn’t leave until your bus gets here.”

He sat down in his seat and cleared his throat but you still felt his soft hand on your skin.

You chuckled. “You’re so strange, Mark. I guess it’s a Canada thing.”

“I like..spending time with you, if I’m being honest. I don’t have many friends here but you’re..cool.”

You turned to him. “Cool?? You think I’m cool?”

Mark put his head on the steering wheel and sighed, realizing the mistake he made. “Why did I say that?”

“Haha! Potter! You can’t take it back!”

The two of you spoke about music and entertainment. You told Mark that you were happy to see that he was going to try a horror movie with you tomorrow. You finally opened up to him as he did to you also.

You both laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He was a breath of fresh air in this town.

————

[The Next Day]

“It’s going to start in 5 minutes, where is he?” Haechan huffed as he looked at his watch.

You stood at the front of the movie theatre and looked around for Mark, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he really ditching you? You bought him a ticket and popcorn which had gotten cold by now. The ads that played before the movie were almost done. Haechan gave up and went into the theatre with Renjun. You stood there alone, awkwardly waiting like someone that was being stood up for their date. You looked at your phone but there were no texts or calls from Mark.

“Hey, I know you..” a voice spoke out from behind you.

You felt a sense of relief.

That was, until you turned and saw him.

Taeyong stood there with his hands in his midnight black trench coat, his hair was neatly parted to the side and two gold chains dazzled around his pretty neck.

“Are you alone?” He stepped towards you, a chill ran through your body and it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.

Your face fell, you stepped backwards away from him.

“I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”

Taeyong smirked when he saw your face of worry. He looked smug, dangerously handsome and cool.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for...they’d be a fool not to show up..” his voice was deep, giving you goosebumps as you stared.

Was he flirting with you?

You laughed awkwardly.

A girl in a thin black body con dress walked up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Ready, babe?” She flipped her hair as she stared at him, but he still looked at you.

You felt bad for her. Yeah, she looked good, but at the cost of freezing in 20°F weather? Not even a gorgeous man like Taeyong was worth that.

“Sure..” he said smoothly.

They both walked into the theatre. You followed soon after. You found Haechan and Renjun and joined them. Haechan gave you a questioning look but you shook your head.

Mark never showed up.

He was too busy stopping a robbery downtown. It was him against 7 heavyweight champions trying to rob a bank. They were Kingpin’s men, but Mark used his web to bind them to the counters until police came.

By the time he finished, the movie was almost halfway done.

He sighed and grabbed his mask off while in a dark alleyway. He unlocked his phone.

You to Mark: where are you, loser? The popcorn is getting cold.

He smiled to himself. You got him popcorn, one of his faves.

You to Mark: gonna eat this by myself if you don’t show..

The next text message was a picture of Sour Patch Kids candy, the watermelon kind that he also loved.

You actually remembered him telling you he liked watermelons one day in class.

He closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wanted to get close to you, but he was already messing things up.

————

[The Following Monday]

You threw your backpack down and sat in your seat in class.

Mark walked in soon after.

“You ignored my texts..” he said softly.

You ignored him and put your Bluetooth earbuds in.

He sighed then looked at his notebook.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?”

You bobbed your head and started writing as music played.

Mark looked around. Everyone had their heads down, they were either writing in their books or reading. So he put his hand behind his back, he quickly shot a web out to your ear bud. It malfunctioned and suddenly stopped working.

You took it out and looked at it.

“What the hell..” you whispered, genuinely confused as to why it burnt up while actually in your ear.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t show up on Friday, but something happened..I wanted to be there, and—“

You finally turned to him. “Yeah, you chickened out. I’m sure you had better plans for your Friday night than to watch a stupid horror movie with me.”

Mark frowned. “No, no it’s not like that at all.” He wanted to be there with you and watch your face as you enjoyed something dear to you, he wanted to share popcorn and gummies, but those moments are a part of normal life for a normal teenager. He couldn’t have that.

“Really?” You raised your brows and placed your head in your hand. “I know what being second place in someone’s life feels like, Mark. It’s the same crap my parents and my ex put me through..I won’t go through it again.”

Mark shook his head and leaned towards you.

“I’m not like them, I’m here for you, give me a second chance..”

“Hey! Less talking about the weekend, more writing about science!” Your teacher called out.

When class ended, Mark followed you through the halls.

“I had something personal to take care of, y/n. Can we see a movie tomorrow or something?”

You shook your head and gripped the strap of your backpack. “There aren’t any movies out right now that I’m interested in..”

“Okay, umm how about a pumpkin patch?!”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “What are we? 10 years old?” You scoffed and turned to walk then bumped into someone’s broad chest.

You looked up slowly. It was him. “Oh..I’m sorry.” You exhaled.

“Be careful, I might just bite next time..” Taeyong’s smile gave you the creeps. It bothered you that you were seeing him more frequently.

Mark took your hand suddenly. “Hey..we’re gonna be late.” He spoke firmly and glared before taking you out of Taeyong’s sight.

Mark kept pressing you for a second chance as you continued to walk to the cafeteria.

“Okay, fine. Umm there’s this Halloween party this Friday, I don’t really want to go, but-“

“Let’s go! We can get something to eat after, my treat!”

You nodded quickly just so he’d leave you alone.

“Okay, Mark, let’s just get through this week.”

———

[Friday Night]

Haechan helped you out of his car when you got to the party. You wore a tight white dress and a feathery halo along with a small pair of wings.

You looked amazing with glittery makeup and white heels as your accessories.

Haechan dressed as a zombie and did a spectacular job on his makeup. He looked like he had really been bitten on the neck and the virus had spread throughout, leaving him grey with purple and green veins throughout his face.

You pulled your dress down and waited in the kitchen for Mark.

You grabbed yourself a beer and cracked it open.

Haechan drank with you as well.

He swallowed hard. “The nice refreshing taste of piss.”

“Yup, seems about right.” You winced and put the can down.

“Well, well..it seems the Virgin angel has arrived.” Jeno walked in behind you and grabbed a beer. He was dressed as a devil. The two of you had long since talked about dressing as the angel & devil pair for Halloween as a couple, but now that you had broken up, you didn’t think that he'd still do it.

You rolled your eyes. “What happened? Were your natural horns not enough?”

Jeno chuckled and tilted his head. “We’re playing 7 minutes in Heaven next..I’d ask you to join, but I know you’re just a teaser, never a pleaser.”

You scoffed, but Haechan jumped in.

“That’s what your little friend over there said last night when you pulled your pants down.”

Jeno flipped him the bird and walked away.

You went to the bathroom and checked your makeup. You looked wonderful, your boobs stuck out and your dress hugged your curves perfectly. You rarely dressed like this but it was nice to look and feel..pretty., you quickly fixed your lipstick and left.

As you turned the corner, you ran into him again.

“Ahhh..perfect timing, I did say I would bite you the next time we ran into each other.” Taeyong’s eyes widened.

You backed away and laughed.

He was dressed fittingly as a vampire. He was dark and mysterious like one, so you weren’t surprised. He looked even more handsome than usual in his dark eye makeup complete with black liner and red eyeshadow.

But the way he stared made you..uneasy.

His gaze trailed from your lips to your cleavage as he eyed you up and down.

You stood there in silence.

“Do you—“ he started to pose a question as he stepped forward but his girl walked up and hugged him from behind.

She squeezed him gently, but Taeyong looked annoyed. “Let’s go upstairs, baby…” she said lowly while looking into your eyes with an evil glare.

Haechan came and grabbed your hand. You turned away from the two love birds and followed him, never once worrying about what Taeyong had to say again.

“He’s here!” You heard Haechan gasp.

Mark walked in. He was wearing a...Spider-Man costume.

You giggled at how cute he looked in it. You saw his cute little butt as he spun around looking for you through the crowd in the house.

You raised your hand. “Mark!” You called out to him.

He finally saw you and started to walk over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. He was adorable as he giggled.

“Why Spider-Man?”

He shrugged. “Eh—I like the way my butt looks.”

You laughed and took his hand to the living room where a few people sat on the floor a circle.

They spun a bottle and whoever it landed on would be placed in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven.

Two members from the group were missing so you and Mark took their spots as they did whatever they were doing in the closet. He helped you squat down while pulling your dress down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes as Jeno held his new girl crush close to him. If he wanted to be with her in the closet, why did he sit beside her? You thought to yourself.

Everyone took turns spinning the bottle and when it got to you, you spun it fast, hoping that it wouldn’t land on someone that you knew, that way it would be just as awkward for the both of you.

Mark watched the bottle spin and based on the speed and rotation of the beer bottle, he knew that one end would end up pointing to you and the other would point to..Jeno.

As it spun, he placed his hand behind his back.

He looked up and pointed to the kitchen with his other hand.

“Oh my god, what is that?!” He yelled, causing everyone to turn to look at whatever he was pointing at.

You turned as well, so Mark quickly shot a small squirt of his web to increase the speed a little.

“What are you talking about?” You asked when you turned back to him. Everyone else turned back too.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I saw a rat..maybe it was a decoration.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The bottle slowed down to a halt and just as you dreaded. It landed on you and..Mark.

Jeno laughed out loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Mark gave him a look of annoyance.

“It’s just that..she’s the biggest prude I know, good luck bro, she doesn’t give it up.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to..I mean, have you thought about how much of an asshole you are?” Haechan spat out.

Mark looked at you as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n..you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to..”

Jeno chuckled again.

You didn’t really want to be this close with Mark, but you had to. You had to prove Jeno wrong, even if you and Mark did nothing but stare at each other. You wanted Jeno to know that you weren’t a prude like he thought.

You stood up and nodded. “Let’s go..”

The two of you stood in the tight closet awkwardly.

The light was dim, but you saw Mark’s features clearly. His dainty nose and high cheekbones, his wide eyes and cute lips. He looked to the side nervously.

The truth was, you looked amazing in your dress. He felt his face become warm when he looked at your cleavage. The glitter made your skin sparkle even more than it usually did.

“So…” you stepped up and down. “I’m glad you came..”

“I’m glad I came too.” He swallowed hard. “Oh.. that, uhh, sounded weird, I’m sorry..”

“Mark..” you giggled. “You don’t have to be awkward, it’s me..it’s just that I’m wearing tight clothing for once..”

He chuckled and looked into your eyes. He raised an eyebrow, making your stomach weak.

“It’s not just that..” his voice is lower, quieter so no one can hear the two of you.

“What is it then?” You smirk.

He stares at your lips and as he’s about to answer a red alarm blares out in his head. His senses are tingling, someone is in trouble.

He squints and turns away. “I-i have to go…”

You step forward. “What? Are you..okay?”

You place your hands on his shoulder.

He loves the touch but can’t stop this nagging feeling. He had to go where his mind told him to go, he had to tend to whatever needed him or else he'd go insane from the noise.

“I can’t explain it, it’s like a migraine, I..just have to go.”

He turns to head through the closet door but you step in front of him.

“Mark, if you leave it’ll just prove Jeno right. Please just 5 more minutes, I’m sure you can stand being with me for just that.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

You scoff and continue to block the door. “What? Do you have to run home to your aunt or something? Are you out too late?”

Mark shakes his head. “Y/n..it’s not that, I just—“

“Gotta be a good boy and go home now?” You teased him to buy time. You really didn’t want Jeno to gain any satisfaction from learning that the two of you did nothing.

“Y/n..” he looked intensely into your eyes. His eyes then floated down to your lips as he watched you nag at him.

“Mark, what is it with you? You bailed on me last time! Do you hate being around me or what?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard and sudden.

Your back hit the closet door causing it to swing open.

But Mark didn’t care, he still held your face close to his and caressed your mouth. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him on you. The way his tongue traced over your bottom lip for permission to enter, the way his nose poked your cheek.

You opened your mouth and turned your head to deepen the kiss.

Sparks flew between you and you both felt giddy. Blood rushed through your veins. Mark’s senses were calmed for a bit as they focused on what he felt right now with you. The building tension and the satisfying release.

You fell into him more and more. Even as the others cheered while watching, the two of you were consumed by each other.

You feel butterflies flying around without any intention of stopping and then..he pulls away. Your eyes open and you see your red lipstick all over the handsome boy’s mouth, confirming that what felt like a wonderful dream was actually a reality.

He stares at you through low eyes and licks his lips while panting.

Your lips are still parted while you too breathe heavily.

Your eyes are round and beg for more. Mark wants it too.

You look at his lips and lean forward, but he backs away and swallows hard.

“Catch ya later!” He runs out of the house as you stand there in shock.

Haechan’s mouth falls open.

“Oh...shit.”

———-

[The Next Day]

Taeyong listened to his father complain about the new superhero in town while at dinner.

“I don’t know where this little shit came from but he’s ruining EVERYTHING. We can’t get a simple delivery done without him popping up.”

Kingpin slams his fork down.

“He shoots a web here, he shoots a web there, and suddenly, my men are down and out! Tell me how that makes sense?”

“I’m sure they will stop him soon, he’ll get tired and give up.” Taeyong’s mother continued eating.

“Christ, I’m stressed and then we get a call from your teacher saying that you’re not showing up for class?!”

His father turned his attention to him while pointing a finger.

Taeyong shrugged.

“What the hell you moving your shoulders for? Answer me!”

Taeyong puts his fork down and sighs. “That class is a waste of time..”

“No, the only thing that’s being wasted is MY time and MY effort to get you to good college, you think I want you to end up like me?” His father’s voice rose.

“Is that such a bad thing?” A smirk fell across Taeyong’s face, irritating his father.

“Listen to me, boy, you could never handle the shit i handle, so DONT even think about it. You take your sorry ass to class and you graduate and go to college. Make something of that pea-sized brain of yours.”

“Honey..” his mom placed her hand on his father’s, but he lifted it and waved her off.

“Don’t! He’s like this because you spoil him. He’s a spoiled little brat.”

Taeyong continued eating, he was used to being insulted by his father.

“Dont speak like that, you’re just stressed because of Spider-Man, dear.”

“Shut it! You know that it’s true, you know he’s worthless!”

He stood up and gave Taeyong a frightening glare.

“You got one chance to prove me wrong, boy, make one more mistake and you’re out and on the streets with the druggies!” He huffed and left the dining room.

Taeyong sat quietly, gripping his fork in his fist and thinking about what to do. How could he prove to his father that he would be able to take over the business?

———-

[Monday]

You didn’t say a word to Mark for the first few minutes of class.

It was awkward but Mark didn’t seem to be bothered. He simply did his work in his notebook while listening to his music.

While the teacher was busy, you turned to him.

“Mark?” You whispered and leaned forward to get his attention.

“Mark?”

He still moved his head to the music.

You tapped his shoulder.

He turned to you with large eyes and took his headphones out.

“Yeah?” He said innocently.

“What do you mean by “yeah?” Are we not going to talk about the party?”

Mark smirked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded. “Mark, what was that about?” You knew what it was, you felt it every time you looked at each other. You had a developing crush on the boy you called a loser, you were just trying to hide it but it was becoming difficult as he was perfect in every way.

His cute eyes, nice lips, beautiful brown hair..you loved it all.

But most of all, you loved how sweet and caring he was, how he spoke to you and made you feel like you were the center of the universe as his entire focus rested on you.

He licked his lips. “I...did that to help you prove your boyfriend wrong.”

You blinked rapidly. “That was the only reason?”

“Um..yeahhh.” Mark looked to the side and moved his head in a “duh” motion.

“Oh..okay..” you looked down at your notebook and continued writing, feeling disappointed. But what did you expect? For Mark to confess his love for you? What a bizarre thought. You shook it off.

Later that day when you were at lunch, Haechan asked you about Mark.

“So what did he say?” He asked with his mouth full.

“He said he was just covering for me.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahhh..I doubt it though, you guys made out like..really made out, it was sexy. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.” he raises his eyebrows.

You made a look of disgust. “Ew! As if!”

You and Haechan giggled and continued eating.

You looked over at Mark’s usual eating spot in the cafeteria, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s that big head, Jeno?” Haechan tilted his head when he realized that Jeno didn’t pass by for his usual snarky comment session.

“Hmm that’s a good question, I don’t see Mark either.”

“Oooo..are you waiting for a round two with him?” Haechan teased, but something didn’t feel right.

You stood up. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Haechan nodded and you turned away to walk around the halls.

You peaked down all of the corridors looking for him.

You eventually went outside to the soccer field and heard whimpering behind the bleachers.

You walked towards it and saw three boys gathered around another boy in the middle. The boy in the middle was crouching down and holding his stomach.

You walked faster.

“Give me his glasses!” You heard one of the boys say.

“He had these ugly things on and still couldn’t see us coming..”

You recognized the voice.

It was Jeno. As you got closer you saw Jeno raise his foot to kick at the boy on the ground, and to your surprise, it was Mark.

“Shit…” you ran closer, but Mark grabbed Jeno’s foot and threw him to the floor.

Your eyes grew as Jeno’s back pummeled down into the ground with so much force, you swore the floor shook. How was Mark that strong?

Jeno groaned in pain. The other two boys stared in shock before turning back to Mark and delivering blows to his chest.

Mark couldn’t take on the two of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He called out to them, he was holding back for their safety.

“Hey!” You yelled as you got closer.

“Oh..look who showed up..the school slut..” Jeno said as he stood up straight and winced from the pain in his back.

“You gave it up to the new guy, y/n? Wow, I guess you are like your mother..”

“Hey!” Mark called out to him, but the other two boys held him up by the arms to keep him from hitting Jeno again. Jeno balled his fists up and was about to hit Mark in the chest.

“You’re an asshole, Jeno!” You ran up to him and swung hard, landing a clean punch to the side of his unexpecting face.

“Hey, what the hell is going on here?!” Vice Principal Kim called out.

“Shit.” You held your hand as a stinging pain shot through it.

The two boys let go of Mark and ran, leaving you, Mark, and Jeno to the mercy of the vice principal.

You sat in detention with a wrapped hand. Mark sat a few desks behind you and Jeno sat in front with a pretty black eye.

You are proud of yourself for doing something you should’ve done to him long ago.

You watched the clock tick for an hour as you sat there with nothing to do.

Mark felt terrible for getting you involved, he would’ve handled it on his own but you jumped in to help him and now you were hurt.

After detention, you grabbed your backpack and left without talking to Mark.

“Hey..” he ran up to you.

“Hey..I’m sorry..about that, I didn’t want you to get involved..”

“It’s not your fault, Mark, it’s just that..I’d rather be alone right now..” you had to walk home after missing the last bus.

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

You turned to him and raised your brows.

“Without your glasses? Can you even see my face right now?”

Mark laughed. “Actually..I have something to tell you…”

“Go on..”

“I don’t need the glasses, I just like it when you call me Potter.”

A smile creeped across your face as you felt it become warm. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark drove you home as the two of you talked about Jeno’s look of shock.

“His face was priceless!” Mark scrunched his nose up and laughed gloriously.

You enjoyed watching him laugh, and without his glasses, he looked even more handsome.

You reached home and sighed. “Ahh..great, now I have to explain to my parents why my hand is swollen..”

Mark lifted your wrapped hand gently. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” He bunched his brows up.

“And if it did, could you take the pain away?” You smirked.

Mark nodded. “I wish I could..”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I took boxing class in the 9th grade..” you teased him but his eyes widened.

“Boxing class?! That is so cool!”

You giggled. “Mark, you’re so gullible!”

“Oh..” he looked down in defeat and blushed.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

You stared at his lips. “Well..I should get going..”

Mark parked across the street from your house so your parents wouldn’t see you coming out of a strange car.

You unbuckled yourself seat belt.

“Hey..” Mark said softly.

You turned back to him and watched his parted lips.

He leaned in closer as you swallowed hard. He was so close, just a few more inches.

Your phone rang out and you looked down.

Shit, Haechan texted you.

Mark smiled and leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry, um..thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.” You winked and got out of the car.

He got out of the car and watched you head home.

But his spidey senses started to blare, something was coming, but you were texting on your phone as you crossed the street.

Everything happened in slow motion. The pick up truck speeding towards you, the steps you took to cross the road. You were moving too slow.

He had calculated it all. If he ran to you, he’d be too late, if he jumped in front of the truck he’d be too late and he’d get hurt.

There was only once thing he could do given the amount of time he had.

He stretched his arm out, flicked his wrist and shot a long sticky string out to your back. Once it latched itself onto your jacket, he yanked you back hard.

The truck sped by right in front of your eyes as you gripped your phone and looked up. You didn’t know what was happening or why you were flying backwards all of a sudden.

Your heart races, but soon you were in Mark’s arms. The truck came to a screeching halt once the driver realized that he almost hit you.

He spun you around to face him, not realizing that you were now entangled in his web.

You look terrified. “M-Mark..what the—“ you were out of breath, you looked down and saw the strings coming out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked down as well. The truck sped off after realizing that you were okay. It was just the two of you now, standing there in shock.

“Y/n…”

You let out a shakey breath. “Y-You're..him..You're—“

He put a finger over his lips. “Shhh..you can’t tell anyone.”

“S-spider-Man? THE Spider-Man??”

Mark nodded slowly.

Your mouth dropped.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Mark looked into your eyes and pleaded, his arms still held you tight to his chest.

You nodded but no sound came out.

He licked his lips and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Mark..holy shit, I’m gonna..”

“Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t want to carry you to your parents while you’re unconscious..”

“But Mark..I mean, you’re like.. a superhero..that’s so cool.” You grinned and still looked at him through surprised eyes.

Mark blushed. “You think I’m cool?”

“Oh, my God why did I say that?” You rolled your eyes.

Mark looked at your lips and it was your time to kiss him.

You placed your lips on his while taking his face in your hands. He hugged you tighter and kissed you back, diving into you like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed. You both closed your eyes and embraced the moment as your pulses ran fast and eventually matched.

You stood there for a few minutes while kissing and hugging like you were in a movie.

Neither you nor Mark noticed a car that was parked 50 feet away.

But not just anyone’s car, Taeyong’s car.

He had trailed Mark’s car after he saw the two of you leaving school. He had nothing better to do and just wanted to see what the two of you were up to, but then he saw how the web shot out of Mark’s hand quickly and how you flew back into him. He saved your life, all while thinking that no one would see him.

But he was wrong, and now Taeyong knew what he needed to do.

———

[The Next Week]

You and Mark hadn’t things official yet, you both were scared for what would happen to your friendship. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to kiss him for hours on end.

Mark felt the same way. You had been paired up with someone else at a different table in class. The two of you were now departed and he wasn’t happy about that so he made sure to keep an eye on you.

You finally ate together too. Haechan had his suspicions when he saw the two of you smiling at each other for no reason, but he didn’t say anything.

Then one day, you didn’t show up to class.

Mark texted you the entire night before and even sent you tik toks to laugh at. He knew you were fine and if you were skipping class, you’d definitely let him know. You didn’t respond to the texts he sent during the day.

His spidey senses tingled, he knew something was up.

He called you while at lunch. And to his surprise, you answered.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

There was silence over the line for a brief moment, then you sniffled. “Hey, Mark. I’m home today, I just needed..a break.”

Mark paused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mark, I’ll see you later. Please don’t come and look for me.”

“H-“ he started but you had already hung up.

He pursed his lips and looked intensely at his screen. Something was definitely up and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what it was.

So after his last class, he headed to your house and knocked at the door.

When you didn’t answer, he walked around the house, looking for a way to get in without causing any damage.

He eventually found an open window on the second floor and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed up the side of the house and entered through it.

He stood up straight and saw that he was in your room, but you weren’t there.

Then he saw what looked to be a body under the blanket on your bed.

“Y/n?”

He quickly lifted the blanket and jumped in horror. It was a slide-sized Spider-Man action figure.

He had a sticky note on his face that pressed “press my belly button.”

Mark pressed the button and heard it speak through its fake mouth.

“Oh, hello, Spider-Man, or should I call you Mark?”

His eyes widened as the male voice spoke.

“Well..it doesn’t really matter..see, I’ve got your lovely girlfriend here with me..”

Mark here’s your muffled screaming in the background.

He grits his teeth.

“And she is here, waiting for you at the very top of the largest building in the city. I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you can find it.”

Mark curses to himself, he was caught with you and by some bastard that he didn’t know. Did Kingpin have his men follow him?

“Oh, and that nice friend of her’s, hmmm Haechan is it? He’s outside her house, but he’s probably all tied up.. don’t be late, Markipoo, we wouldn’t want y/n to hang out with me much longer..”

The recording stops playing. Mark runs out of the house, but stops in his tracks.

He’s too late.

Johnny and Yuta stand beside Haechan’s car. Haechan has JI mouth covered by a piece of fabric but his eyes are open and wet with tears.

He lets out a loud scream when he hears Mark.

They tied him to the hood of the car while the engine runs. He was literally tied up.

“Hey!” Mark calls out and runs towards them, but Johnny places a brick onto the gas pedal and puts the car in drive.

Haechan screams even louder as the car rolls down the hill fast.

Mark runs after it, struggling to keep up as it speeds down the street.

Johnny and Yuta stand back and laugh.

Mark had to find a way to beat, he had to calculate his speed so he could overrun it and stop it. Or he could shoot webs out from the back and pull it towards him.

His mind runs at 100mph as it goes through every possibility while he pants and runs.

“Haechan! Don’t worry! I’ve got you!”

The car is too heavy, and it’s going too fast, so he can’t hold it with his spiderweb material.

He leaps forward and up into the air, landing just a few feet in front of the incoming car.

He puts his hands in front of him and braces for impact. He had never taken on such a huge task before, he prayed that he would be strong enough to take a 4,000 pound car going at 80 miles per hour.

He grunts and presses forward onto the top of the car, causing it to make a loud skrrt sound and a huge dent to form. He uses his legs for stability as he struggles to stop it from going any further.

But he slides downward in his two feet.

“Shit.shit.shit.shit” he murmurs out.

Haechan cries to the heavens for help.

Mark pushes forward even harder while gritting his teeth. He lifts the hood slightly.

With a loud groan and harsh grip, he tears the engine out to stop the car.

The wheels slow to a halt and Mark places the car down.

He stumbles on his feet and nearly passes out, but he had to keep moving, he had to find you.

So he quickly puts his mask on before people come outside of their homes to see what the ruckus is about, then he unties Haechan.

“Oh my God..oh my God, what the hell?!”

Haechan panics and shakes.

“Mark, you’re—you’re..the guy..”

“Haechan, we can talk about this later. What is the tallest building and where can I find it?”

Haechan points in the direction of the tallest building in the town. It’s 1,000 feet high and is owned by none other than Kingpin.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw.

He swings through town quickly to get to you.

Once at the building, he decided that it would be faster to climb.

Meanwhile, Taeyong has you tied up and gagged.

Tears stream down your face.

“It’s such a shame things had to be this way..I kinda liked you.” Taeyong strokes your cheek with his thumb.

His phone rings.

“What is it?”

“He should be there soon.”

You hear a man’s voice say on the other line.

Taeyong gives a devilish smile and looks back at you as he hangs up.

“Perfect.” He winks.

He steps forward to you and takes your bound wrists in his hand. He takes your gag off with the other.

“Would you like to beg for your life now?”

“Fuck you, Taeyong! I never did anything to you!”

Taeyong smiles when you curse. “You’re right. All you did was go to class and look pretty...oh and decide to date a superhero. You had to expect us to use you as leverage.”

You shook your head. “Taeyong, you’re not like your father, you’re better than him! Please don’t do this.”

Wind blew your hair back as Taeyong had opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor.

Taeyong’s smile fell when you mentioned his father.

“I know I’m better than him, sweetheart, I get right to the source of my problems.”

He strokes your cheek again. “You know..you’re a lot prettier when you don’t speak, but right now..I want you to scream for me.”

He suddenly pushes you out the window but grabs the end of the rope that has tied your hands up.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you stare down as the tiny people and cars so far below you. You cry even harder.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you sound beautiful.”

He smirks and ties the rope to a pole to keep your body dangling.

“Mark!!” You cry out when you see him in his Spider-Man suit climbing up the building towards you.

“No! Don’t come any closer! It’s a trap!!” You try to stop him but Mark doesn’t stop, you’re right there and he has to get to you.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..” Taeyong sings to himself as he picks up his father’s machine gun.

He aims it out of the window and at Mark.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He pulls back on the trigger, allowing bullets to fly in the direction of the crawling Spider-Man.

“Mark!!” You cry out once again as Mark let’s go with one hand and dangles with the other. He quickly moves from side to side to dodge the bullets.

He regains his position and continues climbing.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn spider.” Taeyong grins and unloads on him again, this time never stopping.

He moves it from side to side to catch him.

A bullet flies right over Mark, breaking his suit and cutting his skin. He curses then looks back up.

He had to pay attention, he had to get to you.

Taeyong goes maniacal with the gun but he just can’t seem to get him.

He stops when he’s out of bullets and Mark is just a few feet away.

You think he’s given up because he’s lost, but Taeyong got just what he wanted.

“Okay, sweetheart..” he unties the rope from the pole and holds it in his hands. “It’s time to fly like the beautiful angel you are.”

You look back at him with wide eyes. “Taeyong!”

He lets go of the rope. You fall out through the window fast and past Mark.

Mark throws his head into your direction and leaps off of the building towards you.

He tries to fly down fast but he can’t keep up with your falling body, he’s so close but he can’t get to you.

You cry and think about your life, you never imagined this would be how you’d die.

You see Mark coming after you with all his strength, you know he’s doing his best. But it was impossible, there’s no way he’d get to you in time.

And so you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Your head fell back and your body fell limply.

“No, no, no, no don’t give up on me!” Mark yells and stretches his arms out, he shoots two strings from his wrists.

They latch onto you, he pulls back as hard as he can, your body flying into his arms as he still falls down the side of the building.

He spins around and shoots another string onto the building. His fall stops abruptly and his body flings itself into the glass. He holds you in his arms to protect you from the shattered glass.

You both fall onto the floor of an office. People jump up and yell in shock.

“Oh my god..it’s Spider-Man.” a few people say with gasps.

But Mark is focused on you. He doesn’t feel the pain from the impact, for his heart breaks for you. He unties your hands and holds one of them in his own.

“Y/n..y/n.. please talk to me..” leans over you and shakes you gently. Your body lies limply. Your mouth is slightly parted and your eyes are still closed. He hears a faint heartbeat.

He starts to tear up when you don’t respond.

“Y/n, I’m sorry..” he lifts his mask off and kisses you on the cheek.

He doesn’t care who sees him and can possibly expose his identity.

“Please..just wake up..tell me you’re okay..” he then kisses you on the lips.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel his soft lips on yours.

You place your hands on the side of his face, the people in the office clap and cheer.

You breathe him in before kissing him back. He pulls away and smiles down at you. His wavy brown hair hangs over your face and his eyes are teary.

“Are you crying, loser?” You give him a small smile.

Mark laughs and kisses you again.

Once you assured him that you were okay, Mark hunted Taeyong down at one of his father’s warehouses. Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waited there for him with a gun and several weapons, but they weren’t prepared for Spider-Man’s speed, strength, and agility, especially when all three were amplified by Mark’s anger. He gave them all an ass whooping they’d remember for the rest of their life, then had the cops come to arrest them. Mark didn’t go into much detail, but you knew that Kingpin, disappointed and hurt, disowned Taeyong and left him on his own to deal with his own actions.

When Taeyong tried to tell him who SpiderMan was, Kingpin called him a fool and deemed him mentally unstable, for a scrawny and nerdy kid with Harry Potter glasses couldn’t possibly have been the Spiderman that was kicking their asses.

Everyone thought Taeyong was crazy and Mark was never identified by the people in the office room.

Johnny and Yuta gave Taeyong up and admitted that they didn’t know who Spider-Man was, for if they had gone along with him, they’d only look crazy too.

Taeyong was arrested for attempted murder of both you and Haechan and sentenced to life in prison. He was tried as an adult and without the assistance of his wealthy father, didn’t stand a chance at getting away.

———

[December]

Finals were over and you could finally celebrate with Mark.

You joined him for the Winter Dance while dressed in a long, sleeveless icy blue dress.

“You look beautiful, like a princess.”

Mark blushed as he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You smiled and laughed out. He too looked dashingly handsome like a prince in his black suit and a bow tie that matched your dress. His hair was parted to the side and smoothed back, he didn’t have his glasses so he looked older, more mature.

The two of you swayed side to side. You laid your head on his shoulder and drank in the scent of his cologne. He smelled like flowers, his touch felt warm on your bare back.

There were stars decorating the dark gym in order to set the mood. White snowflakes also danced across the ceiling.

“I...have something to ask you..”

His low voice vibrates against your chest.

You raised your head and looked at all of the beauty marks on his neck and jaw. Funny enough, they were in all the places that you wanted to kiss.

“Yeah?”

Your soft voice makes him weak, he wants to hold you like this forever.

“Will you..” he clears his throat and glances down at you nervously. “..be my girlfriend?”

Your face lights up, you smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Potter.” You kiss him on the lips and spend the rest of the night together.

1K notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

hiya. could you write a fic where tk has a panic attack from carlos’s pov? 😘🧡

i can indeed! this is combined with an idea jamie ( @silvarafael ) had and very kindly allowed me to write - i hope you both enjoy! the first section is also based on a vague idea i had after watching the ep.

ao3 | 1.9k | 2.10 spoilers

TK is silent the entire drive home, choosing instead to stare out the window with his jaw firmly clenched, his hands making fists in his lap. The silence extends all the way into the house, right up until the point when he flops down on the couch with a loud, frustrated sigh, burying his head in his hands.

At this point, Carlos knows not to push when TK is like this; he’ll talk when he wants to, and not a moment before. So he simply walks over, sitting next to him and placing a hand on TK’s back, rubbing gentle circles. TK slowly relaxes under his touch, unfurling his body, and Carlos is all too happy to let him shift into his arms, holding on and pressing kisses on the top of his head.

I’m here, he’s saying - not with words, but he knows the message gets across regardless. It may have only been less than a year since they started dating, but already they don’t always need words to communicate.

“I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable back there,” TK says suddenly. “I know my dad kind of dragged you into it all, and that must have been awkward for you.”

“It wasn’t my favourite interaction with your dad ever,” he admits.

TK snorts. “Understatement,” he mutters, and Carlos laughs, tilting his head in agreement. “I am sorry, though, really,” TK continues. “It was amazing of you to even be there; you didn’t have to be. I’m sure there are hundreds of places you’d rather be than an intervention session for my dad.”

“You mean supporting my boyfriend through something difficult and important?” Carlos corrects gently, shifting to catch TK’s eyes. “Because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than there.”

TK blinks at him, managing to hold his gaze for all of two seconds before he blushes and looks away. He takes Carlos’s hand, tapping restlessly on the back of it - a sure-fire sign he’s still worked up about something, so Carlos leaves him be, waiting for it to come out.

“Is it bad that I’m pissed at him?” TK’s voice is quiet, small, and it’s mirrored in his body language when he turns to Carlos, drawing his legs up and hunching his shoulders. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to connect with him, and it just feels like he’s constantly throwing it all right back in my face. And he’s… He’s such a fucking hypocrite. Ever since my first overdose, he’s been going on and on about how good it is to talk about my feelings and how I shouldn’t keep things bottled up, yet he insists on hiding this shit from me.”

TK laughs, short, sharp, bordering on hysterical. “He didn’t even tell me when he was fucking dying; I had to find that out by myself. And I’ve tried. I haven’t stopped trying.” He deflates, sinking back into Carlos with a defeated sigh. “But there’s only so much I can take, you know? I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, Carlos.”

Carlos’s heart breaks for his boyfriend. He wishes he could take the pain away; as it is, all he can do is hold him, and hope that he has enough words to at least dull the ache somewhat.

“It’s not bad to feel what you feel, TK.”

TK looks up at him, eyes wide. “You don’t think so?”

He shakes his head, kissing him again. “No. I think… I think your dad has treated you pretty unfairly, actually, and you’re well within your rights to be mad at him right now. But, I also think that you said it yourself; there’s only so much you can do. Before you can take care of your dad, you have to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re worrying over him.”

If TK’s eyes were any wider, it’d be comical. “But -”

“No buts.” Carlos smiles tightly, keeping his tone gentle. “TK, babe, you just led an intervention into your dad’s mental health, which I know was hard for you, yet you did it anyway because you love him. You tried, but if he doesn’t want to engage, then there’s nothing you can do.”

TK is silent for a long time, staring down at his lap. He’s still holding Carlos’s hand in one of his own, but his free hand is rubbing the material of Carlos’s shirt between his fingers; Carlos doubts he’s even fully aware he’s doing it.

“I know that,” he says eventually, voice little more than a whisper. “I do. I just wish he wasn’t so goddamn stubborn all the time.”

Carlos’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he speaks before he can stop himself. “Guess it runs in the family.”

TK stares at him, open-mouthed, and Carlos immediately regrets his words. He’s halfway through an apology when it’s like a dam breaks, and TK breaks out in giggles, his head thumping against Carlos’s chest.

“You’re lucky I love you, Reyes.”

Carlos grins and pulls TK as close to him as physically possible. “I really am.”

The call comes early the next morning, waking both of them up. TK grumbles as he smacks his hand against the nightstand in a blind search for his phone; the sight would be adorable if Carlos weren’t so tired himself. After the exhaustion of the past few days, he’d been desperately hoping to have a peaceful morning for once, maybe even - god forbid - to spend some quality time with his boyfriend without the threat of parents or work or sudden emergencies hanging over them.

Clearly, though, it’s not to be, as TK suddenly sits bolt upright in bed, all traces of sleep gone.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” he promises to whoever’s on the other end, before lowering the phone and turning to stare at Carlos, terror obvious in his eyes.

“TK?” Carlos asks when he doesn’t speak, sitting up and slowly reaching out for him. TK startles at the contact, but quickly leans into it, covering Carlos’s hand with his own.

He swallows once, twice. “Buttercup’s sick,” he whispers. “Dad had to rush him to the vet’s. Carlos, what if… What if…”

He trails off, shaking his head viciously, as though he can erase the thought from his mind. Carlos quickly moves to steady him, stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones to calm him down.

“Let’s get dressed, okay?” he says, knowing reassurances won’t mean a thing right now. “Then we’ll go, and we’ll know more.”

TK just nods, quiet as they go through the motions of getting ready. Carlos makes sure to press an apple into his hand before they head out; he knows it will likely go uneaten, but it’s the only choice he has, given he knows that TK will refuse to stop for breakfast without finding out about Buttercup first.

If the drive back from Owen’s yesterday was silent, today’s is far worse. TK’s hands are constantly moving in Carlos’s periphery, alternating between fiddling with his apple, tugging on his clothes and hair, and rubbing at his face. On the rare occasion he does try to stay still, his hands end up twitching in his lap, followed by a sudden burst of anxious movement before falling back into some semblance of a pattern.

Carlos presses his lips into a firm line, accelerating more than is technically legal; at any other time he’d make a joke about how TK’s turning him into a criminal.

They’re forced to stop at a traffic light, and Carlos curses under his breath, getting jittery himself as the drive extends. He turns to check on TK, then curses again at the sight of his boyfriend’s pale face, his wide eyes and trembling body. TK gasps, then again and again, a hand going to his chest, and Carlos knows what this is.

A panic attack, but the second he reaches to help, the lights change and he’s forced to keep driving. He keeps one eye on TK the whole time, heart beating faster as he seems to get worse, and he’s thankful when he spots an opportunity to pull over, taking it immediately.

TK stares, shaking his head frantically and gesturing in a motion that Carlos takes to mean keep driving. His mouth opens and closes but he can’t form words, breaths coming short and fast. He folds in on himself when they stop, eyes closed and forehead almost touching his knees as his body heaves and shakes.

Carlos unbuckles himself and shifts as close as he can, placing one hand on TK’s back and taking his hand in the other, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. He’s had to do this a few times over the course of their relationship, shootings and kidnappings and disasters taking their toll on his boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make it any less difficult.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says, pushing his own fears aside. “Just breathe slowly, in and out, that’s it; it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

He keeps it up, murmuring assurances he barely registers himself until the shaking lessens and TK’s breath slowly but surely begins to even out. He straightens in his seat, eyes still closed, and leans his head against the headrest.

Carlos pulls back, giving him a moment before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

TK shakes his head, then immediately changes his mind and nods. Still, it takes him a few seconds to speak. “What if it’s the cancer, Carlos?” he asks, peeling his eyes open, despair written all over his features. “He could - He could die, he could be dying right this second, and I don’t know if I can handle that, not after everything else.”

“I know,” Carlos says. “You just have to remember that we don’t know anything yet, and you have to believe that Buttercup will be fine until we do know more. We’ll take it from there, and if it is the cancer - which, yes, it might be - then we’ll all be around to support each other. Buttercup’s strong, though, I’m sure he’ll fight whatever this is with everything he has. He’ll be fine.”

Carlos smiles, noticing how TK is pretty much hanging onto every word he says. He takes a deep breath, briefly looking away before continuing, “As will your dad.”

TK frowns. “Who said anything about my dad?”

“TK.”

He sighs, hanging his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “this is a little bit about my dad. The longer he puts off this surgery, the more scared I get that the cancer will come back and we won’t get as lucky this time. I know it’s stupid, and I know I should be focused on Buttercup right now, but…”

“But,” Carlos agrees, reaching out and squeezing TK’s hand. “It’s okay, and it’s not stupid at all, I promise you. Let’s just take this one thing at a time, okay? First, we’ll get to the vet’s and find out how Buttercup is, and then we’ll see about having another conversation with your dad - maybe telling him what you’ve told me?”

TK exhales shakily, then nods. “Okay. Okay.”

Carlos gives him a small smile, squeezing his hand once more before shifting back in his seat to keep driving. “I’ll be right by your side,” he can’t help but say. He’s sure TK already knows, but the reminder can’t hurt, especially after what just happened.

TK stays quiet, but Carlos doesn’t miss the mumbled, “I don’t deserve you,” from the passenger seat.

“Wrong,” he replies, eyes on the road. “You deserve the world.”

And, in his periphery, TK smiles.

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lexiepiper · 3 years

Text

Mortality salience

Happy Holidays, @ceciliaspen!

I ran with your platonic Valerie/Danny prompt, with a (mortality-based) horror theme and a good dash of angst! I hope you like it!

Ao3 FF

“So.” Danny tried to smile despite the screaming pain that overwhelmed his entire lower body. His tongue was sharp with the taste of blood, and he hoped the sudden renewed bleeding of a split lip didn’t ruin the attempt at a friendly expression. “Come here often?”

Valerie glared and curled her legs closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Shut up,” she snapped, and the familiarity of the insult would have been almost comforting if not for the fact that her typical vitriol was absent. Without it, she sounded hollow, and far more vulnerable than he ever could have imagined.

“Hey.” His lip stung, and Danny tried to think of something comforting as he wiped away the blood and ectoplasm that trickled down his chin. It streaked the back of his glove in a grisly smear of red and green. “I know this seems hopeless, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

She huddled tighter in on herself, but otherwise didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken. He sighed, catching how her glare faltered as he dabbed at his mouth again.

Water dripped through the broken gaps in the ceiling, landing on Valerie’s arm. A tremor visibly ran across her shoulders.

“Oh.” Danny pawed at the zipper in the hollow of his throat. Her dark green eyes followed as he drew it down as low as he could before shimmying his shoulders out of the waterproof fabric.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Danny pressed against the wooden beam that pinned his lower half to the ground despite the resulting spike in his pain, peeling the HAZMAT as low as it would go. “Suit’s waterproof,” he grunted. “I won’t get hypothermia, but you might.” It wouldn’t go past his waist, thwarted by the beam that sat smugly across his thighs and pressed into his pelvis with a weight that felt like a thousand tonnes. Pain throbbed through him, cutting breaths short and making every movement agony.

He threw out a freshly bare hand, ignoring the way her gaze lingered on the tendrilling feathers of the death scar that wrapped around his arms before disappearing beneath the colour-inverted NASA shirt that had been beneath his suit. “Knife,” he said in response to her questioning look.

When she made no movement he huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why?”

“So I can cut my suit for you.” Danny wriggled the fingers of his outstretched hand. “Cold. Hypothermia. I’d rather not have another ghost to deal with if you die, y’know?”

“Not that.” More water dripped onto her hair, and she shivered again and tried to move out of the way without closing the gap between them in the confined space. “Why won’t you hurt me?”

He groaned, curling his fingers in a gesture for her to hurry up and pass it over. “I’ve never hurt you, and do you really think I fight those ghosts at three in the morning for fun?”

Valerie’s frown grew deeper, and the faint lines in her forehead folded into creases. “You’re a ghost too. It doesn’t need to make sense.”

He flapped his hand. “Semantics. Just pass the knife, my arm’s getting tired.”

“Your arm can’t get tired.” She still didn't move. “You don’t have lactic acid, or even muscles.”

“Like I said, semantics.” He flapped his hand again and tried not to whine. “Come on.”

Valerie chewed her lip before scooting closer and swatting his hand out of the way. “Like I’m going to give you one,” she snapped, leaning across him and producing a pocket knife from her pocket. Danny leaned back against the broken ceiling that had collapsed around them, ignoring the screaming pain that lanced through his gut and hips, and positioning himself so that nothing dug too painfully into his back.

Valerie’s long curls hung in the space between them, brushing against his mouth. He raised a hand to push them out of the way.

She jerked back at the movement, knife up and immediately pointing at his throat. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He froze, hand still halfway to his chin. “Your hair was in my face. I was just going to move it.” He made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his sluggishly bleeding mouth, holding it up so she could see how it was smeared with blood and ectoplasm. “Didn’t think you wanted this on you.”

More water dripped through the ruined ceiling, landing on Danny’s nose. He sneezed, then moaned as pain flared through him. Once it died down he rubbed his knuckles where the raindrop had hit, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t miss the horror that crept into her expression, slackening her jaw and smoothing away the crinkles in her brow as her eyes grew impossibly wide. “You… you’re breathing,” she choked, “and… is that…?”

Her free hand grabbed his wrist, fingers like pincers against his skin. Danny winced as she twisted so that the back of his hand faced her again.

“Blood.” She stared for a moment longer, then dropped his wrist and jammed her fingers in the hollow where his ear met his jawline.

“Wait,” he gasped, trying to pull away, but she shoved the knife back into her pocket and used her other hand to hold his shoulders down, leaning heavily across his chest. Danny cried out, pushing weakly against her weight as fire licked through his lower half and wrapped around his torso. “V-Ahhh, stop!”

She drew back at his scream, fingers still pressed beneath his jaw as her eyes followed the movement of his heaving chest.

“What the hell?!” Danny gasped once the pain retreated back to his trapped lower half, lying in wait until the next opportunity to overwhelm him. “I’m pretty sure my pelvis is broken, y’know? I’m trying to save your life and you don’t think I’m hurt enough?”

Her fingernails dug deeper into his throat, and Danny whined and batted her away. She allowed him to, and they both sat in the gloom, their harsh breaths out of sync so that the empty spaces between hers were filled with the pained rasps of his.

“You’re alive.”

He couldn’t look at her anymore. Dread curled painfully beneath his lungs, or maybe it was just the pooling toxins finally leaking from his crushed flesh. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it leaned against the uneven rubble. “Yeah,” he whispered, and the confession bore the exhausting, undefeatable weight of a millstone around his neck. “For now.”

He listened to the rain in between their breaths. Several drops fell onto his bare face and arms before she moved with a rustle of cloth, and then a hand, far warmer than his skin but colder than it should be, gently closed over his shoulder. “What do you mean, for now? How can you be alive when you’re a ghost?”

Danny shrugged at her soft question and regretted it instantly as the movement tugged at lower muscles that rippled with white-hot pain. He winced, curling his hands into fists and taking a couple of grounding breaths before trusting his voice. “If I say semantics enough times will you drop it?”

Her grip tightened, her gentle tone disappeared under familiar sharpness. “Phantom. Tell me right now. What. Do. You. Mean?”

Danny laughed humorlessly, and it quickly dissolved into a whimper.

“I’ll shake you,” she threatened, and the grip on his shoulder became painful.

Danny cracked open an eye to give her his best unimpressed frown. “I’m dying, Val. Have some respect.”

The light was rapidly fading, sinking into twilight, and Danny could barely make out her expression. The only source of illumination was the glow of his own body, but it didn’t do much beyond making his own condition unflinchingly apparent. Her mouth worked, opening and closing as though she was trying to figure out what to say, and Danny pounced on the opportunity to derail the conversation. “Jumpsuit,” he reminded her, gesturing to his clothing with the smallest movement possible. “It’s no good both of us dying here.”

She took a sharp breath and drew back, shaking her head. “No, you… you’re so cold. You need it.”

Danny huffed, but it came out more as a pained whine. “I have an ice core. Hypothermia isn’t an issue for me.”

She leaned closer again, and her eyes shone green as they reflected his own spectral glow back at him. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”

He pursed his lips. “Come on, Val. You’ve seen me shoot ice out my hands. I can’t do that without an ice core.”

She regarded him for a few more breaths before something in his expression seemed to convince her, and then Valerie shifted to crouch right beside him. She tugged at his suit, far more gently than he’d anticipated, and Danny lay back and let her work.

It wasn’t long before she made an apologetic sound. “I need to reach around your back.”

He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. His ribs were beginning to ache. “Alright. Just… give me a second.”

She obligingly leaned away, and Danny pressed his elbows into the hard, jagged chunks of what felt like roof tiles. He took another deep breath, screwed his eyes shut, and pushed.

The broken fragments of his pelvis ground together. He thought he might have screamed, but then her arm looped around his back and held him upright. Danny sagged against the support, gasping as tears blurred his vision and poured down his face, and pain pierced him with a million burning knives.

She tugged at his suit and Danny sobbed, his head lolling forward so that glowing tears dripped onto his shirt. “Hurry,” he begged, and the jerky one-armed sawing of the knife at his lower back melded with the pulsing anguish below his waist. It spread up, through his gut and chest, and engulfed him with burning and darkness.

The next time he registered any sensation, Danny’s ears resonated with ringing. He blinked, and sucked in a shaky breath.

“You back?”

Something sharp pressed into his scalp, and he shifted his pounding head. Right. Rubble. Soft fingers slipped beneath his skull, smoothing out the rough surface, and Danny tried to make an appreciative noise.

All that made it past his lips was a faint whine, and he heard her sigh as those same fingers brushed his overlong fringe away from where rainwater made it stick across his eyes. “Phantom?”

He blinked again, blearily, and her face finally came into focus. The shadows beneath her eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks were thrown into stark contrast by his ghostly glow, and he was startled by the realisation that she’d lost the round softness that had once been there. She probably didn’t mind the change, but he felt suddenly sad, as though something precious was gone.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

Her other hand rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. “You scared me.”

He frowned. The water on her face caught his spectral light, but he had no way to know if it was tears or rain. “Never thought I’d… hear you say that,” he wheezed. Talking hurt, and the pain in his hips had crept higher, raking sharp fingers through his gut and clenching around his ribs. “Maybe sitting up… was a bad idea.”

The hand still on his forehead pressed heavier for a moment, and then she pulled back. With the staticy rustle of waterproof HAZMAT, she slid her arms into the sleeves of the top half of his jumpsuit. The zipper was still attached to half of its teeth, and after a few attempts, she managed to re-thread the other side and pull it up to her chin.

Danny used the moment to settle. He tried to relax as much of his body as he could, focusing on each muscle that wasn’t currently being crushed and forcing it to unclench. The effort was rewarded with a marked decrease in the pain that pressed against his ribs, but every breath still throbbed as his lower muscles protested any movement.

He looked over at Valerie, catching her staring at his face, and she quickly looked away.

He didn’t know why he asked his next question, except to fill the silence. “Why did I scare you?”

Any remnants of daylight were gone by now, but he could still make out her scowl in the unnatural light cast by his body. Instead of answering, Valerie scooted back so that she was sitting against the ruined wall. Their tiny clearing in the ruined building was no bigger than the interior of a car, but her new position moved her out of the way of the majority of the rainwater that dripped through the small gaps in the ruined ceiling. He thought she wasn’t going to answer him by the time she finally spoke. “What are you?”

The question wasn’t that surprising, but laughter clenched Danny’s lungs and forced its way out as yet another pained wheeze. “Who knows?” he choked, blinking past fresh tears that were brought on by the stabbing pain. “Damn it, Val… If I knew, then maybe… maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.” He sucked in a few more ragged breaths. “I mean, if I knew, like… ah, ouch… like really knew, then maybe I’d have told you… and… you wouldn’t have… have shot me into the ceiling.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” she snapped, and he held up a hand.

“I’m not… blaming you. Just… thought we might have been friends.”

“I don’t make friends with ghosts,” she snapped, and pulled his ruined suit tighter around herself.

Danny dropped his hand back to his side. He’d caught his breath a bit, but talking still hurt more now than it had before. “Y’know, Val… I think you might have… If I’d told you I was half human before… the whole thing with the ghost dog... which I swear was an accident.”

Water dripped in the darkness, and wind tugged at the trees somewhere beyond their cocoon of broken wood and plaster.

“You’re part human,” she whispered, the soft words almost lost in the weather.

Danny gave a slow blink with a gentle tilt of his head in an affirmative gesture. “Lab accident,” he clarified, struggling to speak above a wheeze himself. “I was full human before, so technically I’m half ghost. The jargon is that I’m a halfa.”

“Whose jargon?” she asked, and Danny thought he might have sensed a genuinely curious undertone. “It sounds stupid.”

“The other ghosts.” He shifted the hand on the side visible to her in a general so-so gesture instead of trying to shrug. “Most of them don’t really like me.”

She snorted. “What, because you fight them?”

“Nah.” He worked the words around his mouth slowly, trying not to seem like he was out of breath from their conversation. “The living dead thing kinda… kinda ruins it for them. I fight them... because they like trying world dominion.”

“Right.”

He watched as she looked down at her hands, fiddling with the jagged shreds where her new clothing abruptly cut off above her hips.

“Is that what the scar’s from?” she finally asked, and he thought her gaze might have fixed on the glowing Lichtenberg tendrils.

Danny let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s rude to ask.” He said it as gently as he could, trying to push down a pain that wasn’t entirely physical. The fine hairs on his skin fizzed for a moment, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as they burned out with the tiny sizzle of electrical sparks that quickly died in the night. His scars shone brighter too at the topic, and he heaved his thoughts away before he could properly revisit the trauma. “Don’t… don’t ask. Please.”

The plastic rustle of his suit told him that she was moving again, and Danny turned his head a bit more to see her better as she repositioned herself. Trees creaked in the storm, their tossing leaves providing a backdrop of static. Finally, she spoke. “Is that what’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, exhaustion and throbbing anguish weighing down the words.

“To us,” she said. “We’re never getting out of here, are we?”

Danny sighed, regretting the movement as his ribs twinged. “While I’m still baffled… why you chased me without your suit… that gun won’t stop my powers forever… So no, you won’t die here… I’ll phase us out, soon as… as my core’s back online.”

A sniffle broke past the storm’s noise. “You’re hurt though. And… if you’re still alive… you said it yourself, before. That you’re dying.”

“I know.” Danny squeezed his eyes shut. They burned with exhaustion. “It’s… a race against time, I guess… My core heals me really fast… so if it comes back in time… I should be okay.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Danny didn’t answer what should have been an obvious question. Before, when he’d first been pinned and the abandoned building had collapsed around them, he’d thought it would all be fine. She’d screamed and cried as she fruitlessly clawed at the rubble, but he’d laid back to wait, thinking that it was just another Thursday.

Now, though? Now a cold emptiness that had nothing to do with cryokinesis leaked into his marrow.

If his core didn’t kick back in soon, this might actually be it.

Valerie finally whispered over the wind again. “If… if it comes to that, who should I tell?”

“What?” He opened his eyes again, trying to make out more than her outline. Her question filled him with dread.

She cleared her throat, and asked again, louder this time. “You said that you were… are… human. So if you do die here, who should I tell?”

He closed his eyes, tears slipping free. “Jazz.” His voice cracked, and he swallowed dryly and licked his lips before trying again. “Jazz Fenton. She’ll tell… Um, she’ll make sure that the right… the right people know.” The faltering words weren’t blocked by his pain, but by a tightening throat as he tried not to picture his loved ones learning that he was never coming home.

“Jazz Fenton?” He tone was just shy of disbelieving. “Really?”

“Just do it please,” he choked, and more tears trailed down his temples. One dripped into his ear while the other disappeared into his hair.

The ruins rattled as wind slammed into the building, and something shifted in their tiny cavern.

Valerie swore. “How didn’t I realise?” she choked, and it sounded like she tried to muffle a sob with her hands. “You… you look just… just like him.”

Danny sniffed, making his chest throb. He blinked a few times before looking at her shadowy form. The reflective collar of his jumpsuit directed his glow back at him, and he gave what felt like a truly pathetic smile. “Hi, Val.”

“Danny?” she whispered, his name tight with her tears.

“Yeah.”

She swore again, and pitched forward onto her hands and knees, crawling across the gap between them. Her hand wrapped around his, and he squeezed with what little strength he could give.

“What have I done?” Her proximity shed more of his glow onto her face, and tears caught the light as they dripped off her chin.

“It’s okay,” he breathed. The chill in his bones was spreading now, numbing whatever it touched. The tempering of his pain would have been a relief if it didn’t clench the cold hand of fear around his heart.

She lifted his hand to her cheek, and her skin was almost unbearably hot. “I’m sorry,” she wailed, and her tears flowed over his fingers. “I’m sorry, Danny, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He closed his eyes again, trying to keep breathing as she chanted the apology over and over. The ice creaking through his veins drowned out all other senses, and Danny gasped as his chest seized in a sudden cramp.

Light flashed through his closed eyelids, and in an instant, power burst from his core. The weight of his human form settled over him like a shroud and Danny instinctively dissolved, opening his eyes in time to see the beam slip through his intangible lower half.

“Pull me out,” he gasped.

“What?!”

The familiar white rings were blinding after so long in the darkness. “Just pull!” he shouted, and then her hands found his shoulders and hauled, and Danny screamed as all of the pain from before came crashing back and the shattered bones in his hips and thighs ground together and stabbed sharp ends into what had to be every single nerve ending he had.

The lights disappeared, and his pulse beat through his ears before sinking into ringing silence.

His next thought was that something irregular and hard was digging into the space between his shoulder blades, and that he ached all over. Light brushed against his eyelids, not bright enough to be direct sunlight but still definitely natural, judging from the fresh air that filled his lungs. Danny swallowed, his mouth thick and fuzzy, and rolled onto his side with a groan.

Everything beneath his waist throbbed with the motion and he whined, curling an arm around his gut.

“Hey.”

It took a moment to place the casual greeting, and when foggy thoughts finally pushed past the pain in his hips and legs, Danny’s eyes shot open. “Val?” he croaked, squinting in the light.

“Thought you wouldn’t make it for a hot minute.” She carded her fingers through his hair.

“Great.” His tongue stuck in his mouth, and he swallowed again and let his eyes fall shut. “Got any water?”

“Not unless you drink the mud,” she said, and then pressed her hand against his shoulder. “Your shirt’s still damp, though. You could probably suck some water from that.”

In any other circumstance it would have been humiliating, but after the night he’d just had Danny figured that pride wasn’t really an issue here. He blindly groped for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his mouth, sucking the slightest amount of heavenly moisture from the fabric.

It wasn’t much, but still managed to clear away the majority of the stickiness.

He tugged his shirt back down before opening his eyes to look at her again. “What happened?”

She snorted. Beams of sunlight broke through the cracked ceiling, illuminating her flyaway curls from behind. “What do you think? Your core started working, I guess. It turned you into the human you, anyway. You went intangible or something. I pulled you out. You passed out, which is no surprise since you really should have died.” She gave a choked laugh that held an edge of hysteria. “I then sat next to you all night counting your breaths and heartbeats, and once the wind died down I listened to your bones grinding back into place.”

He sighed, and the pressure of such a deep inhalation nudged against healing flesh with the dull ache of a fresh bruise. “Thanks for pulling me out.”

She shrugged, and he realised that she no longer wore his jumpsuit. “It’s the least I could do.”

“I guess I am your ticket out of here,” he joked. “Have you heard any rescuers yet?”

“With the storm we had last night?” she scoffed. “I doubt their priority is an old collapsed building that they think is abandoned.”

She lapsed into silence, and Danny found himself picturing her sitting there, alone with his corpse still pinned down by the beam. He pushed the thought away. “My core’s still a bit fuzzy,” he confessed, “probably from the massive healing job. Give me a little longer before I try phasing us out. You wouldn’t want to get stuck halfway through a wall. Trust me, I’d know.”

She hummed. Wind wormed its way through the shattered structure, stirring the air with life. Danny laid his head back and listened as windswept leaves whispered in the spaces between soft bird calls somewhere beyond the walls.

“I don’t suppose you’ll keep my secret?” he finally asked.

She sighed, and hope leapt in his chest as she tapped a finger against her chin with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t just have an entire night to rethink everything I know about you.”

“And?” he pressed when she didn’t elaborate.

Her mouth curved, and he realised that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed her smile without malice. “I figured that I could use a bit of backup sometimes, y’know.” She held out a hand. “What do you say, Spooky? Partners?”

He took her hand and shook it with as much strength as he could. “Welcome to Team Phantom, Red.”

She broke their grip with a guffaw, her smile breaking into an outright grin. “Seriously? Team Phantom?”

He laughed too, even though it hurt, but then her words from a moment ago finally registered and the laughter died as quickly as it had come. “Wait a minute, did you just nickname me Spooky?”

She cackled, and as her eyes gleamed wickedly he almost wished he’d died after all. “Well, I guess I could always just call you Inviso-Bill!”

#ceciliaspen #Danny Phantom #holiday truce 2020 #Christmas truce 2020 #lexiepiper #You can pry the nickname headcanon from my cold dead hands #I hope you like the fic!

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sandwichfox · 4 years

Note

Can you do a Hc of how the main 6 would react with a child apprentice (like one of the spells goes wrong and the apprentice is transformed temporary to a kid?)

Asra

★ Oh no. He told you that the rosehip had gone bad, remembers explicitly saying “don’t use the rosehip, I’ll bring some from the market later”. Of course, he can’t scold you for it now, since you’re currently sitting on the floor bawling your eyes out. Also, you’re approximately six years old.

★ He’s just coming through the door, but he can already tell what happened. Your knees are scraped and the stool you were sitting on is laying next to you on the floor. It’s likely you fell over when the brew exploded, and you’re now so small, it must’ve felt like a great height. There’s red potion splattered on the walls and ceiling. How much had you used? It’s supposed to only turn a light peach color.

★ He’s by your side in a second, bags forgotten at the entrance. He closes the door quickly with a wave of his hand and kneels next to you to look at your scraped knees. You’re sniffling now, wiping at your soft cheeks with the back of your hand. “They don’t hurt too much” you hiccup “can you tell me where I am?” Your voice is so high, hilariously polite in tone. You just got scared, he realizes, finding yourself thrown off the stool and all alone in the shop all of a sudden. You’ve stopped crying altogether in favor of looking up at him with big, curious eyes.

★ “You’re in my shop. I’ll still put some salve on them, don’t get up” he searches the cupboards for the tin, his mind elsewhere, at least he knows what went wrong, though it’ll be a hassle to fix, he starts piling ingredients for the cure in his arms. “What’s this?” You ask from behind him, face press against a jar of lacewings. He scoffs and sets the ingredients on the table. You haven’t changed, then. “Lacewings, I told you not to get up” his tone is amused, he approaches with the salve just as you skip to another corner of the shop. “They don’t hurt. What about those?” He manages to get a hold of your shirt, now a dress on your tiny form, and laughs as he applies the ointment “snail eyes” and your look of disgust makes him burst out laughing.

★ Asra’s careful not to go into many details of your life, or what happened with the spilled potion. You don’t seem to remember being older and he wants to advert a possible crisis. Instead he answers your incessant questions as honestly and patiently as he can while he works on the cure, and finds that he doesn’t need to entertain you much otherwise. You look delighted when he asks for your help passing him ingredients. Then peeling the physalis enthusiastically when he asks you to. He doesn’t need them for the cure, but you had been putting off the task all week. Asra smirks to himself.

Nadia

♠ Nadia calls out your name, rushing into the room, brows furrowed with worry. She had been just about to come inside when there was a flash of bright light, a sharp bang, a startled cry, and then a clatter of falling bowls.

♠︎ “Darling?!” Her voice is tight as she approaches your writhing form, you’re slumped against the bookshelf, seeming to be tangled in a length of fabric. She quickly comes to your aid, peeling the curtain of fabric back from where she assumes your face must be. “I heard a crash and thought-… oh my” In your stead, staring right at her with unabashed wonder, is a child. You, she realizes with dawning dread, you’re the child.

♠︎ “Who are you?” You breathe, reaching out towards her face and then, seeming to remember yourself, pull back with an embarrassed look. “Are you a princess?” Nadia can’t help her smile. “Countess, actually” Your eyes go impossibly large “oh” you look around “sorry about your bookshelf.”

♠︎ Nadia knows she should have gone to Asra immediately, but aside from your current -ahem- situation, you don’t seem to be in any pain or discomfort. On the contrary, you’re unabashedly lively. And, as she’s come to find out, you’re letting yourself be spoiled, for a change. Look, she was already on her way to the shop, alright? You were the one who pointed out the bright, colorful balloons when the carriage passed by the market.

♠︎ It was worth it, Nadia thinks, when you’re back inside the carriage. She moves the big -shiny green- stuffed beetle (a beetle, what a peculiar child) out of the way so you can rest your head on her arm. You’re sleeping, all tuckered out, you don’t even move when she wipes at your round, sticky cheeks with a wet cloth. “To the shop” she tells the driver, and maybe feels a smidge guilty about wanting you to stay like this a bit longer. She won’t though, it was just a thought. Though she’ll remember your fondness for smoked, salted almonds when you’re back to normal.

Julian

♦︎ He swears he hadn’t meant to startle you. It’s just, you had been working on that spell for hours now, and he could see you growing increasingly frustrated every time it failed, sparks sputtering and fizzling before going out. He intended to make you take a break, calling to you from the other room and then poking his head in when you didn’t answer. He approached you gently, calling your name again. You didn’t even seem to hear him, tongue between your teeth and gaze severe with concentration. Julian sighed and tapped your shoulder.

♦︎ You jump, flailing just the slightest bit, but it’s enough. In a moment the sparks between your hands glow green then blue then white. He barely has time to gasp before he’s being thrown back, ears popping with sudden, suffocating pressure. And then it’s gone. Nothing more than a ringing in Julian’s ears and an upset inkwell left as evidence of the sudden explosion of raw power.

♦︎ Julian rubs at the back of his head where it hurts. Then spots the pile of clothes on the floor, the very ones you were wearing. He’s rushing to you so fast that he has to blink to clear the spots from his vision. “Are you alright?! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I-“ he’s cut off by a long, drawn out groan from you, surprisingly high-pitched. And then he realizes you’re… you’re… -huh- the wrong size.

♦︎ You look at him and shriek, startling him into a yelp, “oh! I won’t hurt you, I’m not a criminal, or… anything like that” even as a child (a child! he’s trying not to freak out) the expression on your face makes his stomach clench “I promise, you’re safe” you look sideways at him, unconvinced “I’m a doctor, actually. So, well quite the opposite of a criminal then, don’t you think? I heal people. Or, well, try to“ If anything, the already scared look on your face turns worse, mouth turning down at the corners into a terrified scowl. Oh no.

♦︎ Well, he certainly can’t fix this on his own. Especially not with you keeping a very careful distance, looking at his hands with sharp suspicion, as if you expected him to be carrying a giant secret syringe that he just hadn’t revealed yet. Besides, this has to do with magic, so he wouldn’t be able to help, even supposing you’d let him. So here he is, shifting nervously after having knocked at the shop’s door. He looks behind him to check that you’re still there, only for you to squeak and hide back behind the lamppost, not hidden at all. Julian sighs.

Muriel

♣ Muriel knows you’re at the clearing, you’ve come more and more often to practice spells (the shop was too small and you had broken one too many jars). He can hear you shifting and muttering incantations, even through the trees. He comes into the clearing just as something goes wrong, the light between your palms glows brightly and then seems to be absorbed into your own body, pulsing under your skin once before throwing you back.

♣︎ Muriel doesn’t even think, just throws himself between you and the trees before you can hit them, landing on his chest instead with a small oof. You look up to him, surprised. “Muriel! Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen, heh, but thank- oh!” Suddenly you shout, doubling over in pain and clutching at your own skin as you… shrink?

♣︎ He grabs you tighter, terror gripping him tightly as you writhe in his arms. “What’s wrong?” He asks, panic speeding up his heartbeat “what’s wrong? What hurts?” You stop suddenly, turning to look at him with confusion on your face. Your small face. Your round, child face. “Nothing hurts” you tell him, puzzled. Muriel drops you.

♣ Strangely, you seem to trust him immediately, uncaring of his towering height or scowling face. You’re holding his hand and skipping by his side on the way to the shop like nothing’s the matter. He tries to soften his expression when he turns down to answer a question or coax you towards a less crowded path. You reward him with a small smile, it’s the same one he knows, but it’s missing a front tooth.

♣ After a few minutes of silent walking Muriel notices you glancing up at him every few seconds, shy blush on your face, mouth open as if to ask a question, then turning forward again. “What is it?” he asks after the fifth time this happens. You start, looking down again. “You’re very tall” you mumble. Muriel’s cheeks turn pink. “Yes” he says simply. “Oh” you pause, “can I-“ you look down again “I- maybe- I bet you can see everything.” Muriel sighs and picks you up to place you on his shoulders. He can’t help the small grin at your delighted squeal.

Portia

♥︎ “Helloooo?!” Portia looks up from her chopping board at the call, halfway through slicing the strawberries for dessert. You should be coming for dinner, but she remembers you were practicing some spell or another near the fountain, you shouldn’t arrive until much later. She furrows her eyebrows and walks over to the window. A small figure comes stumbling into her garden and then promptly gets their foot snagged by a graspgourd. Portia wipes her hands on a washcloth and hurries outside.

♥︎ “Are you alright?” She asks gently. The child looks up and Oh, oh no. As soon as you see her you lower lip wobbles, but you bite down on it to keep from crying. “I woke up in the forest, I walked all over but I think I’m lost. Do you know where I am, miss?” She kneels down at your side to untangle the vine from your ankle, brushing gravel from your scraped knees “Oh, just Portia is fine, you’re actually not in the forest at all” she smiles kindly, “you’re in the palace gardens, specifically my own little patch. Would you like to come inside while we figure something out?” Her eyes twinkle with amusement at your look of wonder, seemingly forgetting all about the fall as you get up. “Gardens?! But they’re so big!” She extends her hand and you take it, following her inside her cottage.

♥︎ She’s curious about what you remember, and about how you were as a child. She’s told you countless stories about her childhood in Nevivon, but you obviously can’t do the same, considering your lack of memories. She tries not to pry too much though, it’s difficult, considering how trusting you are. It honestly worries her a bit, how easily you opened up to her, what would have happened had you found someone else instead of her? No use dwelling on it though, and she wants to think it was just her amazing personality that made you trust her so easily.

♥︎ “Are you hungry?” She asks, she notices you clutching at your rumbling stomach after finishing a particularly dramatic story, you remind her a bit of Ilya, when he was a young boy. You look up in surprise and she giggles. “Let’s see what we can find in the pantry, huh?” Should she call someone at the palace? No, what would they be able to do? Hopefully this is only temporary, but she doesn’t want to assume it will go away on its own. “Thanks, miss Portia” you say as she hands you a plate with snacks, she has given up on correcting you.

♥︎ She knows a bit of magic, but not enough to reverse something like this. Perhaps she should call Asra, that seems like the safest bet. She can’t stop looking at you. You’re sitting at her table, nibbling at a slice of cornbread and turning a jar of jam this way and that for inspection as you eat, your legs swinging happily under the table. You’re adorable. “Miss Portia?” You ask around a mouthful of bread “when is your cat coming back?” She had sent Pepi to go get Asra while she kept an eye on you. She’s trying not to think too much about the current situation, there’ll be time to freak out after you’re back to normal. Hopefully Asra will be able to do something. Portia hums. “It shouldn’t take long.”

Lucio

▲”Can’t you go any faster?” Lucio grumps. You look up from his metal arm, incredulous. “Listen, I’m the one that’s doing you a favor here. And maybe you’re not aware that I could charm it into slapping you in the face, if you keep on like that” He turns red. “Right, sorry.” he says sheepishly, then keeps quiet for maybe a few precious seconds “but it’s taking so loooong.” “Lucio-” you start, then take a deep, calming breath. “Maybe you should try fixing an alchemical arm, infused with unfamiliar magic, see if perhaps you do any better.” you mutter, “keep still.” He twitches his finger, just to spite you.

▲”Ugh!” You shriek, magic glowing brighter in your hands as you jump “you’re such a child!” The glowing red behind the plates of his arms sparks with a pop, blinding him. “Ow” Lucio protests, blinking furiously, he opens his eyes and turns to you. But… you’re not there. He swivels his head around for a second before he spots you, getting up from a pile of fabric and dusting yourself off casually, lifting the too-big strap of your gown back onto your shoulder with a dignified swipe of your much-smaller-than-before hand.

▲ Air escapes him in a -very dignified and not at all shrill- scream. You trip back over the hem of your dress when you take an alarmed step back, just as the guards burst into the room. “Send for Asra!” He shouts. They don’t even say anything, just take a look at his face and step right back out, slamming the heavy wooden door and plunging the room back into silence. “Who’s Asra?” You demand, gathering up your skirt until the fabric is bunched up in your arms. You approach Lucio cautiously, seeming to size him up “and who are you?” Lucio drops his head into his hands, of course you wouldn’t remember anything.

▲ Asra arrives maybe an hour later, interrupting your discussion. “Well?...” comes a high, inquisitive voice. “Well what?” Lucio sounds tired. Maybe this is not as urgent as the guards made it seem. “You say you’re the count, where’s your throne, then?” Lucio blinks “We’ll of course I have a throne, it’s just not he- Asra!” He doesn’t think Lucio has ever looked happy to see him until this very moment, his very gaze seems to be pleading for help. Asra looks at you, sighs “I know how to fix it, but it’ll take a while, I trust you can care for my small apprentice while I work?”

▲ “Asra” he whines “I can’t deal with this, I don’t know how to care for a child” Lucio mutters miserably, you shoot up immediately “I’m not a child!” he looks up at you and waves a vague hand in your direction “you’re like, five”. “I’m ten” you say haughtily, looking down your nose at him “and you’re old.” You add, for good measure. Lucio lets out an indignant squawk. Asra laughs and laughs.

Consider, mayhaps, leaving feedback?

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soyforramen · 3 years

Note

If I'm not too late, for the writing prompts: 9 and/or 47, dealer's choice

· “Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”

· You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you

Angst below, in an AU timeline...ish

It felt like a fire had lit up her lungs, the smoke crawling up her throat and choking her until her breath rasped out into the cold night air. Behind her, Jughead stumbled, his breathing coming like tidal waves. Betty spared a quick glance at him as she yanked at his arm and pointed to the ridge beyond.

“Just over there,” she lied.

It was becoming easier and easier to lie to him.

On their way up the ridge her feet slipped in the muddy wet leaves. Her knees hit the ground and her teeth rattled hard enough to see stars. Jughead slipped an arm around her waist and dragged her up the rest of the hill, his breath erratic.

It was another ten minutes until they finally reached Archie’s car, the only one in the Sweetwater parking lot. Not many people went hiking at 4 a.m., let alone to go chase down a kidnapped ex.

Thunder rolled above them, the vibrations lingering deep in her bones, and they leaned around the car. Jughead’s hand were on his knees, his breath gasping and desperate. His wiped at the water trickling down his face and coughed hard. Betty kneeled on the ground, hands grasping at the loose asphalt as she forced herself to focus on counting rather than what she’d encountered tonight.

“What the hell was that for?” Jughead wheezed.

Betty shook her head, still unable to talk through her sore throat. She let out a slow breath – 1, 2, 3, 4 – and breathed in again.

“Why’d you try and save me?” he yelled over the thunder. A crack of lightening illuminated them and she was startled by the intensity in his eyes.

“Did you want me to leave you back in there?” she shot back. Stars colored her eyes as she tried to stand, and she listed to one side, grasping for the car to keep her balance.

Jughead snarled and paced towards the far end of the parking lot, ignoring the pouring rain around them. From his limp, Betty assumed he had a Charlie Horse. Betty wanted to chide him about not taking care of his body, about his inability to treat it as something better than a dumpster for all his repressed feelings. It wasn’t her place, though. Not anymore.

Besides, it seemed cruel to point out, especially after he’d been on the verge of being tortured –

“I don’t need your help,” he said when he returned, his words still punctured by small gasps. “I had everything covered.”

She snorted and stood up to face him. A chill ran through her as the wind picked up, but she diverted the movement into massaging at her damaged wrist. Jughead, still as perceptive as ever, didn’t miss her wince. He reached towards her, his eyes fixed on her wrist. Realizing what he was about to do, he stopped short and bent over to retie his shoe.

Even from this angle Betty could see how thin he was.

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Even as the adrenaline seeped out of her body she still couldn’t keep the acid from her voice. “That great, big escape plan of yours was going swell, though I’m curious as to what you were planning after you got chained up in the basement and held to the wall with duct tape. Or did I miss something when I broke in?”

Half her words were covered up by an angry burst of thunder. Perhaps it was for the best; they’d both been through a lot. Or, perhaps it would have been better to put it all out there, fight out their anger until there was nothing left remaining.

Jughead’s lip curled, and Betty knew he’d caught enough.

Betty narrowed her eyes. Despite everything, she still didn’t know whether to trust him. There had been too much time between them, too much space and anger and - Not to mention his aliens and her serial killer.

“You can’t drive stick with a broken wrist.”

“It’s not broken,” she said petulantly, her lip pursed like Juniper’s when she didn’t get the last cookie.

Knowing that he was right, she dug into her coat pocket, angry with Jughead and herself. Another gust of wind blew through their wet cloths, and they huddled into the cab of the truck. As the engine turned over, Jughead scrubbed at the window with his damp shirtsleeves, trying to break through the fog that had followed them. The water streaked across, unable to change, and he gave up on the idea. With a grunt, he shifted into drive and turned towards town.

“Stupid,” he muttered, and Betty side-eyed him.

Her first instinct was that he was talking about her, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping. After everything she’d done tonight, and he still couldn’t think anyone could care for him. Betty stared out of the window, her fingers pushing and prodding against the delicate skin on her wrist, revealing in the sharp jolts of pain and irritation. Eventually the pain cleared through her fog of anger and she realized he was likely talking to himself.

“Just –“

Jughead stopped, cursing under his breath. They came to a blind curve, halfway under water, and he shifted to first gear. As they crept along Betty’s eyes began to shut. She could feel her muscles relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, and the only thing that kept her awake was the potholes in the road. In the flashes of lightening above them, she could see Jughead’s jaw clenching as he worked to keep something in check.

Fine, she thought idly as darkness consumed her. Let him be mad. It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t want to be near her.

She was startled awake when the engine stopped. In front of them was the Andrews’ home, normally bright and cheery, but in this light it was eerily still in the pouring rain.

“He’s not home tonight,” Jughead said flatly. “You can stay in his room. Unless you want to go home.”

Betty shook her head, trying not to let her fear overtake her. The house was empty and would be for the next week. They still hadn’t heard anything about Polly, and Alice had taken the twins upstate to try and get their mind off of it. After tonight (any night, every night, ever since – she cut off that particular voice, struggling to keep that terrible week out of her head), the last thing she wanted to do was to be alone.

The thought sent a shudder through her and she wrapped her arms around herself to try and keep the chill from sprinting down her back.

Jughead nodded, still staring straight ahead. He’d pulled the keys from the ignition and was now jangling them in his hand. He opened the car door and stepped out into the rain, not seeming to care whether Betty followed him or not. She scrambled out of the car, towards the front door and slipped in after him.

She held her breath, waiting in the long stretch of dark, for the lights to turn on. When they did, it was nothing more than Archie’s living room, still messy and smelling slightly of old clothing and pizza.

Jughead stalked towards the kitchen, his face set in an emotion she couldn’t discern anymore. A gut feeling told her it was because she was a stranger here, one who was encroaching not only on his ‘investigation’ but also on his personal space.

“I’ll make coffee,” Jughead said gruffly. “Take a shower or you’ll catch a cold.”

The way he’d said it, matter-of-factly and without any emotion behind it, contrasted so sharply with the fact that he’d remembered. He remembered, and wanted to let her know he’d remembered that she was prone to get colds when it rained. These little things twisted the knife deeper into her back and she tried not to think about her last foray into this home.

“Thanks,” Betty said softly.

She barely glanced at the mirror when she stepped into the bathroom. A thick cover of mud coated her lower half, while leaves had taken up residence in her hair. Her wrist, still throbbing and sore, was a swollen bright red. As bad as she might have looked, Betty revealed in the metaphorical duality of it all. Long ago, she might have said she was a good person, untouched by the corruption of life. Now, though, she felt as dirty and broken as she looked.

Pity about the boots though. Real suede apparently didn’t mix well with the more wild side of life. Betty didn’t dare think about what it would cost to buy Veronica a new pair.

The pipes groaned as the water warmed up. Peeling off her clothes was a chore, the damp, clinging clothes didn’t want to cooperate. The wet slap of them on the floor was a loud echo as she stepped into the shower.

The warm water was practically sinful after tonight. She let it cascade down her skin and shut her eyes to the world around her. Every inch of her body felt sore and bruised. She dreaded even thinking about how she’d feel tomorrow.

A draft of cold air sent goosebumps along her skin and Betty stilled. She trusted Jughead, of course, and yet…

The door shut again, and she peered around the curtain to find a set of clothing on the counter. Her heart stopped when she recognized a grey S from so long ago. Reluctant to let it out of her sight, Betty pulled the shower curtain to. He’d always had a bad habit of forming sentimental attachments to things, to items that had no right to such kindness.

But to have kept that shirt all these years? To have kept her shirt? Surely not. Surely her eyes, tired and sore from lack of sleep, had deceived her.

The ghost of her guilt churned again, deeper this time. A sharp pain went through her stomach – of guilt? regret? hope?

Betty picked up the bar of soap in her uninjured hand and scrubbed at her skin, hot tears running cold against her cheeks. Careless. She was always so careless with everything worth while. Archie’s hands ghosted across her skin, his lips, his whispers they both knew were lies. She was only looking for an escape, not another well to get trapped in. This time, though, she couldn’t think of a single way to escape.

A sob broke from her lips, and then another, and another. She shoved her fist against her mouth and curled up at the bottom of the tub. It was all she could do to keep from breaking up. A part of her, the one that saw reason, was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier tonight when she’d seen Jughead half-conscious with a red welt on his forehead. His head lolled absently against a support beam. His hands tightly bound with duct tape. Tight enough they were turning purple. Those stupid glasses lay at his feet only to reflect the beam of her flashlight onto the chains that bound him.

Images, real and imagined, flashed before her eyes. The well. TBK laughing above her. Polly, bound and gagged in the back of a cab. The twins, facedown in Sweetwater. Squeeky Fromme’s dead eyes staring up at the night sky, milky and flat. Jughead’s hands –

Betty shook her head, trying to shake the images away. No, that hadn’t happened, she chanted internally. It’s not real.

Not this time.

Long after the water had run cold, Betty finally came back to herself. Her movements were slow and forced; her head felt uselessly full of cotton. With a groan, she stood up and gasped as pins and needles threw her back to the ground. Unable to do anything, Betty turned off the water, gritting her teeth as she waited for the feeling to come back into her legs.

Into her life, even.

Now, with only the steady drip of a leaky faucet to keep her company, Betty heard just how quiet it was in the house. The wind blew outside, stronger than ever, but it seemed as if the house itself had gone into hibernation. Jughead had likely gone to bed, she realized. Or maybe he’d been smart enough to know he should see a doctor after all.

Perhaps that would be best. Then they could both pretend tonight had never happened and go back to the chilly detente they’d found themselves living in.

With an anticipatory wince, Betty hauled herself up and out of the tub. As she reached for the towel, she realized that the shirt loudly proclaimed ‘El Royale Gym’ in bright red letters. She scowled at the dancing rooster, ordering it to be something other than it was. Clearly, though, she’d been wrong.

Roughly, she pulled the shirt over her head, her damp hair catching at the collar, and stepped into the gym shorts. Why she put herself through this, why she tortured herself with something so impossible –

“Coffee’s on the counter,” Jughead said when she stepped out. His fingers flew over the keyboard, his eyes never leaving the screen.

At least some things never changed, she supposed. Even that, though, rang hollow after what they’d been through tonight.

Betty wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for something to occupy herself with. She sipped at it a moment, giving him the chance to say something. Do something. When he didn’t, she didn’t know whether she felt relief, or disappointment.

It wasn’t until she reached the stairs that he finally spoke.

“Just tell me why you did it,” he said.

She hesitated, knowing that this was her own personal Maginot line. Crossing this would mean the end of one life, and the beginning of another strange reality, one where she would have no control.

“Why did you come after me? Why didn’t you call Sheriff Keller, or Archie, or –“

“Because I’m still in love with you,” Betty said. Her voice was no more than a soft sigh, but it was enough to bring about a sudden calmness.

The calm before the storm, she thought morbidly. Whatever would happen now, whatever was said…

She waited, counting to a hundred. When he didn’t say anything, she set the coffee down on a side table and went to Archie’s room, shutting the door softly behind her.

(Part 2 here)

#bughead fanfic #prompt #riverdale #but instead of saying art i'm saying angst (with the long a like ahngst)#pretend i'm posing like that art dude from the iron giant

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

‘Y'know, when I asked you to manage 'Tsumu, I never imagined you'd manage him like this.’ Osamu states bluntly, eyebrow raised as Atsumu spends yet another evening seated right by her spot at the till, lobbing playful insults and jokes at her until she snaps at him to ‘shut up for the love of all that is holy and stop disturbing the other customers’ .

‘Like what?!’ she splutters unconvincingly, her cheeks turning red.

Osamu gives her a knowing look before he turns away to welcome in another batch of customers.

Osamu closes the shop on the anniversary of its opening, and throws a small party at a rooftop bar that a friend of his owns. She’s told that her attendance is absolutely mandatory, so even though she has class early next morning, she finds herself with a drink in her hand, staring down at the crowds of downtown Osaka. If she squints, she can see a child pulling her mother to a stop, pointing overhead at the rainbow of neon street lights in awe.

‘A hundred yen for your thoughts?’ She doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Atsumu, his lazy drawl far more pronounced than Osamu’s.

The child in the street below remains rooted to the spot, causing a buildup in the crowd despite her mother’s attempts to pull her away. It makes her think of the first time her parents brought her to visit the city more than a decade ago, and how overwhelmed she felt, surrounded by people and buildings tall enough to touch the sky, so different from her hometown of rolling hills and bamboo groves.

‘Did you feel sad when you left home?’ she replies with a question of her own.

‘Nah - was excited, really. Always dreamed of playin’ volleyball in the big leagues, so stayin’ home wasn’t gonna cut it for me, y'know?’

‘Heartless. Probably made your mother cry’, she accuses him, and he acknowledges it with a careless laugh.

‘What about you? Thinkin’ about home?’ he asks, coming to stand beside her, eyes trained on the thin line separating building and sky.

‘Leaving was necessary’, she responds simply.

Especially with two older brothers blessed with both brain and brawn, far better suited to inherit her father’s steel forge. But while her father might spend most of the day teaching her brothers how to craft the sharpest knives, his evenings were spent at the kitchen table with her perched on his lap, learning to balance numbers in his account books. And with her schoolteacher mother drilling into her head the importance of an education, moving down to Osaka for an accountancy degree seemed less like a choice and more like an inevitable conclusion.

He frowns at her silence. ‘Did you get kidnapped by aliens or somethin’? Usually you’d be snappin’ at me, or scolding me, or shouting at me for being a dick – completely undeserved, by the way’.

‘I just seem quiet because you talk too much. Has anyone ever told you that?’ she retorts. But there is no fire in her words, and he only chortles in response.

They watch in silence as the crowd below them slowly starts to thin out as the dusk fades into night. The cold night air bites through her thin sweater into her skin, and she shivers, unconsciously shifting closer towards Atsumu’s warmth. He shoots her a look that’s halfway between a smile and a smirk as he slides his jacket over her shoulders, and she pretends the flush on her cheeks is from the alcohol in her drink.

But she can’t help but lean into him, letting herself drown in the heat of his hand on her hip and the storm in his eyes.

Osamu’s eyes cloud in disapproval when he finds out she and Atsumu are dating. ‘He’d better not run off my accountant, that’s all I can say’.

‘Osamu! Atsumu’s your twin!’ she scolds, arm deep in a vat of rice water.

‘Exactly’, he responds with a snort. ‘I’m not sure you realise how much of a dick ‘Tsumu can be, ‘specially when all he’s hungry for is chasing a win. I hope you’re ready to handle that.’

‘You’re just worried because you’re too cheap to hire a qualified accountant to do your books’ she grouses and he looks like he’s about to snark back, but the chatter of their first customers of the day entering the shop signals the end of their conversation.

Dating Atsumu isn’t as bad as Osamu makes it out to be. She’s careful not to ask too much of him when he’s busy with training and competitions, and in any case her schedule is full enough with school and her job, but they make the effort of video calling each other at least twice a week if he’s travelling, and if he’s in town, they spend Friday nights with multiple boxes of pizza (Atsumu’s appetite is enormous) , bickering over what movie to watch next.

He insists she watch as many games of his as possible, and he spends so much time crowing about his plays that she should be annoyed, but she finds herself charmed by the childlike enthusiasm in his voice. ‘That’s probably why you’re the only one that can stand him’, Osamu comments but she pays him no mind. He’s in the audience cheering for her when she graduates, and takes her out for a fancy meal when she lands her first job ( no, Osamu, working at Onigiri Miya doesn’t count, no matter what you say).

Their paths might not always converge but when they do, there’s the quiet contentment of finding shelter in each other, and she quickly becomes addicted to the warmth of that feeling in her heart.

‘Stop being a baby’, she scolds, as she peels back the sports tape on Atsumu’s back with deliberate care. ‘It’s your fault for going for practice with a strained shoulder and not listening to your physiotherapist!’

‘Don’t nag darlin’, I had to – it was Hinata-kun’s first practice with us!’ He’s practically buzzing in his seat with glee, and she can’t help the soft smile that grows on her face.

‘There - all done’, she says, and she can’t help but run her hand to rest in the dip of his spine.

‘What would I do without you?’ he asks, shooting her a roguish smile that distracts her long enough that he’s able to pull her into his lap.

‘Idiot’, she huffs fondly, and he chuckles in reply, the sound warming her heart. ‘Hey ‘Tsumu?’ she says again, pushing his wandering hands away.

‘You called, doll?’ he quirks an eyebrow at her, hands heavy against her hips.

‘I love you’, she whispers against the broad expanse of his chest.

‘I know’, he says with light laughter in his voice, and swallows her outraged cry ‘arsehole!’ by sliding his mouth over hers until her breath starts to stutter and she closes her eyes.

There is a storm raging outside, but she pays it no mind.

Her stomach churns when she sees the faint line on the test she bought in a panic during her lunch break, and she now wonders whether the nausea she’s been feeling the past week was not a bug she thought she caught, but actually morning sickness after all. That thought makes her feel like puking her guts out again and she does - unceremoniously every morning for weeks after that.

Atsumu’s in the middle of a series of matches away from home, and she knows he’s warned her again and again not to distract him especially when the championship is within his team’s reach, but the rising swell of panic in her throat outwrestles any rational thought she has left in her head, so she finds herself blurting it out to him the minute they log on for their twice weekly call.

‘You’re pregnant?’ he echoes blankly, rubbing a disbelieving hand over his face. ‘How?’

‘D’you remember the gala night for the opening of the season when I was on antibiotics for an ear infection?’ He nods dumbly, and she twists her fingers in her lap. ‘Yeah… Well I figure it must have happened then.’

The connection of their call crackles, and she strains her ears for his response. It doesn’t come.

‘Tsumu?’

‘Right.’ he finally says. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

‘I...don’t know,’ she confesses.

They’re both barely on the cusp of adulthood, and the thought of bringing a new life into the world that she’d be wholly responsible floods her with a tidal wave of fear and dread and anxiety that does not ebb away. She’s not sure her boss will take too kindly to finding out she’s pregnant, much less so out of wedlock, especially since she’s barely a year into her job, and she doesn’t even want to think about the dishonour and shame she’ll bring to her family - though a part of her is willing to brave her father’s disapproval and her mother’s tears just to feel their arms around her again.

But her hands are drawn to the slight swell of her belly, and perhaps it’s sentiment clouding her mind, she’s not sure she has it within her to stamp out the flicker of life budding within her after nights filled with dreams of a child with her smile and Atsumu’s eyes.

‘Look - I’ve got to go. We’ll talk when I get home, ok?’ he mutters, logging off before she can say goodbye.

But he doesn’t - not even when his team wins the championship and she finds out from the team’s social media that he’s returned back to Osaka.

Her calls go unanswered, her texts remain unread, and with desperation rising in her chest she turns to Osamu - even though she initially swore to herself she wasn’t going to drag him into the messes that Atsumu tends to make. But the laws in Japan require the consent of the father if she wants to get rid of the problem (though it feels wrong to term it like that), and he’s the closest male friend she trusts enough to step up to the plate.

‘Fuckin’ pig’ he snarls, slamming his fist down on the counter so hard it makes her jump back in shock at seeing the normally mild-mannered Osamu lose his temper and react with such obvious rage. But he calms down quickly to close his shop early and walk her home.

‘It’ll be fine’, he promises her. ‘You’ll see’.

She’s not sure she trusts Osamu’s definition of fine, not when Atsumu turns up on her doorstep that same night with a smear of blood under his nose and a purple bruise over his right eye. She stares at him, her arms folded across her chest.

‘What do you have to say for yourself, Miya?’, she says, and he winces at her use of his surname, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

‘I freaked out ok? Finding out that you got pregnant - that I’m going to be a dad made me panic ‘cos I’m totally not ready for that shit - even though Osamu’s right, I’m a piece of crap and you’re probably going through so much worse and I should do right by you -.’

‘Atsumu, what are you even saying?!’ She interrupts, exasperated.

‘I’m asking you to jump off a cliff with me’, he says, lifting his chin to return her stare.

‘Wha-’

‘Marry me.’ He cuts in softly, bringing his hand to cup her face, brushing his thumb across the corner of her lip. ‘It’s gonna be one hell of a ride, but you and I - we’ll get through this together’.

She’s struck dumb, suddenly reminded of how being with Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. While there’s the thrill of being near enough to witness the sky collapsing into a torrent of rain and hear the wind descend into howls of rage, there’s also the lingering fear that the next flash of lightning might mean pain, or even death.

But Atsumu’s eyes are clear pools of light, and she can only see hope reflected within it. She wonders if it mirrors the hope in her heart too.

So she says yes, and catches his smile in her hands.

They hold a small wedding at the Miya family shrine with their respective families as quickly as they can before the swell of her belly is unable to be hidden by the folds of her shiro-muku, the traditional white of her kimono a stark contrast against the black and gold of Atsumu’s montsuki. Her face is hidden under the weight of her headdress and her hands tremble as she clasps her kaiken, a blade her father forged himself, and her mother’s bamboo fan to her belt. She does not breathe until she and Atsumu take their third sip of sake from the nuptial cup.

Osamu is obviously appointed as the best man, and after the ceremony is over, he slaps Atsumu on the back before pressing a careful kiss to her cheek. ‘You’ve downgraded from being my accountant to my sister’, he tells her, and she has to hide her teary laugh behind her hands. But her heart is full and she throws her arms around his neck until Atsumu clears his throat playfully and she pulls away to greet her family.

‘Take care of her’, her father says, the threat in his and her brothers’ eyes amplified by their wedding gift to her of their sharpest knives. Atsumu meets their gaze evenly and laughs, unfazed.

‘I will’, he says, and he kisses her with his promise still on his lips.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu writing #hq writing #haikyuucreations #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu #miya osamu #miya atsumu x reader #miya twins #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #atsumu scenarios #inarizaki

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

I love how you wrote the s/o who struggles to stand up for herself 🥺 it was really good! I thought of something to build off of that if that’s alright with you. What if someone tried striking the pillar men’s very sweet and unconfrontational s/o? Maybe s/o did something as minor as accidentally bumping into someone. When they sheepishly try to apologize that person gets angry and tries to punch/slap s/o. Oh how I love protective pillar men 🥰

Thank you so much, Anon! 🥰😍❤ You're too sweet! It always makes my day to hear when someone likes my work! 😇😇😇

Oh boy, big protective Pillarmen? The absolute best kind of Pillarmen??? You got it, honey! 😘

Pillarmen (separate) protecting their non-confrontational s/o from being struck...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Admittedly, Kars wasn't very "confrontational" himself.

• In his own way, of course.

• He thought fighting with someone for no good reason (or any reason at all really) was as meaningless as it was laughable.

• If someone ever approached him and tried to initiate a violent confrontation by hurling insults at him or even going so far as to hit him; he would simply roll his eyes and walk away.

• He had much better things to do than stoop to some foolish Mortals level.

• You both were best described as "two sides of the same spectrum" seeing as how you had the tendency to go out of your way to avoid conflict with anyone.

☆

"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" You cried, stepping away from the large and scowling man who now bared an expression that was something borderline feral. His glare sent a knife straight through your heart, puncturing your lungs and leaving you gasping for air as anxiety washed over you.

You had been walking down the street, your shift had ended and you were heading to meet up with Kars at your usual meeting spot just around the corner. You had talked about going to go get something to eat or at least being Home to have tonight and you were focused on just getting there. The sooner you reached your Husband, the sooner you could go Home and put your feet up after a long work day.

Those plans suddenly got thrown out the window when a man rounded the corner the same time you had.

When you collided with him, it caused him to drop the iced-coffee he had been clutching in his hand; the majority of it even spilled on you, staining your workshirt and pants, and yet you were the only one apologizing here.

"You stupid BITCH!" The stranger snapped, advancing on you as he jabbed his finger angrily at the now empty plastic cup lying in the sad brown puddle pooling on the sidewalk. "I just got that! It cost me 5-fucking-dollars!"

You really were sorry! You really didn't mean to make him drop his coffee! Panic flooded your body and burned in you like a fire, the flames of it only fueled more by his loud voice, making your hands quiver as you instinctively reached for your wallet.

"Here! I'll pay for it!" You said quickly, trying to something, anything to placate the angry man before things got even more intense. "I'll-- I'll even pay for a new one!"

He, however, was all but pacified.

Your offer was cut short by the surly stranger full on grabbing you by the collar of your coffee stained shirt; you let out a strangled yelp as he hauled you far too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath hitting your face and your stomach dropped, sinking like a stone going down to the depths of the Ocean upon seeing the unquenchable inferno shimmering in his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that and a lot more, bitch." He snarled, drawing his hand way back.

Your eyes instinctively snapped shut as his free hand swung towards you, hard and fast your, your hands flying up on pure impulse alone in an attempt to shield you from the blow that was to come...

But it never came.

After too long of a moment, much longer than the hit should've taken, your eyes opened to find the mans large hand still poised in the air.

It was now gripped by a much larger one.

Kars' brow was knit together, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood as he scowled down at the offending man who still had a hand on you; his Wife. He had been waiting for you just around the corner. He had heard everything that had happened and had definitely seen more than enough.

His grip was so tight on the mans arm you could see circulation being cut off. Any tighter (that being; using his only half of his maximum strength) and he would without a doubt shatter the bone of the mans arm completely.

He was only holding back on doing so for your sake.

You were frightened enough as it was and Kars wanted to spare you any further horror by holding back on destroying this disgusting excuse of a lifeform... just for today.

"Let. Her. Go." His voice was low and fridged, the words slithering through the teeth that were clenched like a vice in his mouth.

There wasn't even a trace of anger to be found in the mans face anymore; like a slate wiped clean. His face had gone stark white and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared at the God before him; not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of a car coming 80km/hr toward it.

The car that would kill it in one singular, instantaneous hit.

The hand released from your collar, leaving behind a stretched imprint of his clenched fingers on the fabric. The very second you were released, the Pillarman hauled the stranger roughly into the air by his arm, his feet dangling over a foot above the pavement.

Kars' lips peeled back into a snarl, fangs glimmering like knives of ivory in the light. If looks could kill the man (who was now whimpering not unlike a kicked puppy) would be getting slaughtered.

"If you know what's good for you, Human. You will get out of my sight." Came the command, this time the man could now feel the hot breath of the seething Pillarman on his own face. "Now."

A shaky nod was the best the man could manage.

Without another word, Kars dropped him and the stranger practically hit the ground running. Taking off down the street as fast as his shaking legs could take him, stumbling as he nearly fell several times; the only thing preventing him from doing so was pure adrenaline.

You barely had a chance to blink, let alone process all that just happened, when Kars was on you.

The Pillarman pulled you into his embrace, uncaring that you were practically drenched in coffee and still quivering like a beached jellyfish. His eyes roamed your body, checking for any injuries he somehow missed; he let out a breath you hadn't realized he had been holding before his lips found the crown of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Beloved, my beloved... he is gone now. Shh. Shh." He murmured into your hair. It was only then, when he swiped his calloused thumbs over your cheeks, you realized you were crying.

"Let's go home, dear one." He said after a long moment of simply holding you in his arms and shushing you, allowing you time to get your nerves somewhat under control. "I'll make dinner tonight and we'll see if we can do anything about that stain..."

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of conflict of all kinds.

• Really, fighting with someone with reason or not was just something funny to him because he knew his moves (by tongue and by combat) could not be matched.

• If someone tried to initiate a fight with him, he'd just chuckle and cock an eyebrow.

• If he was bored (which was most likely), he'd have the greatest time simply toying with them; laughing and grinning as they attempted to hurt him.

• Sometimes he'd even enjoy giving them a good scare by doing something with his powers.

• If not however, he'd simply scoff and walk right past them.

• Other than that, he actually tried to stay out of any sort of conflict when you were around; he didn't want you to be involved or hurt, of course.

☆

It wasn't often you went out to a club but every so often you and Esidisi would take the time out of your busy life to get dressed up and go out for a few drinks and a dance together as a treat.

You left the ladies room with a smile, lipstick reapplied and your appearance straightened up a little. You looked around as you made your way through the scene, searching the crowded floor for your Husband to catch another dance or two with him before retiring Home for the night.

You stepped back in surprise when a man cut you off halfway across the room, a drink in hand and a tipsy smile pulling across his face.

"Hey there," he drawled, trying to be casual. "You're cute. You wanna dance?"

You smiled sadly; you had to admit, the gesture was kind of funny and sweet. Had you need single you probably would've agreed.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." Really, you had no interest in dancing with a stranger in a place like this when all of your dances were already happily taken by your one and only.

You were about to offer to buy him another drink or even just settle with just chatting with him for a while (a friend was always nice to find in these places) but the man didn't exactly appreciate your answer, despite the fact it had been polite and straightforward.

"Uh, excuse me?" He all but spat, his face souring into a frown. "Why not?"

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, taken aback at his sudden turn of character.

"Oh-- Uh... well, I'm here with--"

"Oh, that's bullshit!" He cried, cutting you off. "You just don't wanna dance with me!"

You grimaced, holding your hands up in a placating gesture as you backed away from him, trying to keep some distance between you two as he tried to close it by advancing.

The man continued to rant and rave, growling about how there was absolutely no reason for you to refuse him a dance and that he was a perfectly nice guy and a good dancer, not pacified in the slightest.

You were becoming aware of just how very drunk this man was and he was only getting increasingly angry with you by the second. Each time you sheepishly tried to explain yourself you were cut off and it only seemed to get him more and more riled up.

You REALLY didn't want to deal with this on a fun night out. Hell, you didn't like confrontations like this in general.

"Listen, I've gotta go--" You were cut off again, gasping as the drunk stranger grabbed you by the arm just as you started to shuffle away to try and merge in the crowd again to disappear from his sight and pretend this interaction never happened; his grip was rough and unrelenting.

The room was starting to spin; the lights, the music, the chatter was suddenly far too much, drowning you in a static of fear and confusion. The man was snarling something out at you but you couldn't hear it over all the kerfuffle.

Your vision hyperfocused on the bottle the man had in hand; lifting high over his head, swinging down in slow motion.

The bottle never hit its mark as it was suddenly plucked from the strangers grasp.

In a fraction of a second, the man was now grabbed by his free hand and spun around. You opened your eyes to find him in the grip of Esidisi, your one and only dance partner and Husband.

"Looking for a dance partner, are we?" He questioned the now gawking drunk.

Esidisi had been waiting for you where you had left him at the bar. Being as tall as he was he saw you leaving the restroom and decided to meet you halfway across the dance floor; however, he stopped short as he saw your little confrontation happening. After giving you a good once over to ensure you weren't hurt, thankfully you were just a little shaken, he inclined his head over to the bar for you to sit and calm down while he handled this situation.

The massive man full on grinned down at the drunk man in his grip, giving him a good spin around before pulling him in close. Just as he pressed him straight against his muscular body in an iron grip; the song shifted, hot and base blasted music blaring through the speakers of the club.

"In that case, you're in luck!" He chirped, chuckling at the strangers owlish expression. "I was just looking for a good dance partner myself and I happened to overhear you talking with my Wife."

The drunk man gulped, through his potent mixture of intoxication and fear he didn't miss the fact that Esidisi's grip tightened just the slightest bit more as he took care to emphasize on the word "Wife". The stranger let out a strangled yelp that went unheard by the rest of the dancing crowd as Esidisi strutted to the music, dragging him along. Any protests on your attackers part went ignored by Esidisi and fully unheard by anyone else over the intense beats ringing through the club.

Your Husband winked at you over his shoulder, bringing you some small sense of relief as you felt your fear start to slowly drop down from it's sky-high level and you made yourself comfortable on a stool to watch him and the drunk stranger.

If the man had wanted to dance so bad, bad enough to threaten you and try to inflict harm, Esidisi fully intended on giving him the dance he craved.

He was gonna dance with him until he dropped...

Wamuu:

• As any Warrior should be, Wamuu was indeed confrontational.

• However, his confrontation was only to an extent, per say.

• Like his Masters, he generally did his best to try and avoid conflict with a Mortal.

• If someone simply walked up to him and struck him he would simply stare down at them with a raised eyebrow, honestly amused.

• The hit would probably tickle the living giant rather than inflict pain on him.

• On the other hand, if that Mortal happened to cross a line verbally by deeply insulting him or plucking a nerve somehow, he was fully willing to duel them to the death.

• He was always willing to fight for you; regardless of the situation.

• He was basically your knight in shining armor for that reason.

☆

Working a 12 hour shift was always exhausting to you. Sometimes you couldn't tell what was worse; having a busy day full of orders or having a slow day where you saw almost nobody at all and were bored out of your own mind.

Today had been pretty steady, having boughts of people between lonely hours and thankfully, you were just 10 minutes until closing now. Your eyes glanced up to the clock on the wall, silently pleading for it to go just a little faster so you could close up fully for the night. Wamuu would be here soon to walk Home with you, he usually stopped at the Gym to get a work out in and kill some time before coming bye. Your walks Home with your loving Husband were the best part of your day, sharing stories and talking as you strolled arm in arm down the street.

You hadn't seen another customer in the past 2 hours so any cleaning or chores that needed to be done before the night was over was already done. You briefly considered starting to count up the till now so you could just leave as soon as you closed but that plan was quickly shunt aside when the door to the shop flung open, the bell overhead jangling loudly, and in stepped a customer. You resisted the urge to sigh, there was almost always someone who came in at the last minute and wanted a sandwich.

However, you put on your best smile as the man who came in approached the counter.

The mans face was already in a knot, he had huffy air of "I'm in a H U R R Y" about him and that alone was enough to make sweat prickle on the back of your neck. These kinds of customers could be the absolute worst, even more so at closing, and you prayed he would order something easy so you could close up tonight without tears in your eyes from being yelled at again by someone.

"Good evening," you chimed, smoothing out your apron as you set your hands on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"One meatball sub, white cheese, on Italian." He told you rather shortly, drumming his fingers on his arm.

A lump swole in your throat as you turned your gaze to the very empty meatball tray sitting across the counter.

Oh boy, here we go...

You sucked in a deep breath, your smile unfaltering. "Oh, um--... I'm sorry but we're all out of meatball. Can I get--"

"Then make more." He said curtly, his finger drumming only increasing as he full on glared at you. He also made sure to visibly roll his eyes as if you had said something completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." You told him, trying not to let your voice go down to the squeak it wanted to. "We're closing in 5 minutes and cooking more up--"

"Ugh, I don't care!" He growled. "I don't have all night, just make it!"

You were starting to shiver as he got louder and louder, "Sir, we close at 7. I can't, it's against policy, I can only make more tomorrow morni--"

You jumped as the man suddenly lunged and a yelp managed to escape your lips when his hand gripped around the strap of your apron, pulling you roughly over the counter.

"Listen to me, you dumb CUNT," He snarled, his grip tightening hard enough you could hear threads snapping in your apron. "Make the damn sandwich so I can fucking go Home! I don't fucking care about your policy! I want my meatball sub!"

You were breathing hard, your throat squeezing shut as he growled lowly into your face. Never once had a customer gotten this violent with you, not even on a shift where you were with someone else. Everything was becoming consumed in static, your heartbeat in your ears as you floundered to find something, ANYTHING, to say to get him to let go.

"I-- I--..." it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what this man wanted to hear and it only infuriated him further.

He was screaming at you now, screaming so loud you couldn't understand him, only making you start to cry as you stood helplessly in his unrelenting grasp.

Like lightning, the mans fist curled and swung your way.

He would've made a clear slug across your jaw if a much bigger fist hadn't clenched around it, stopping it mid-air.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, stumbling and catching yourself on the counter before you could fall to the tiled floor. You looked up in shock to find none other than Wamuu gripping your attacker with one huge fist by the front of his shirt, making the man dangle in the air.

"You seem to misunderstand what my beloved here was trying to explain to you." The Warrior growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he glowered down at the man who's expression had now turned to one of terror. "Normally, I would overlook ill-mannered Humans such as yourself but you have made a very grave mistake tonight by, not only disrespecting, but touching my dear Bride."

The man opened his mouth to say something, probably to apologize or to tell the massive man he would leave and never come back but the words didn't so much as reach his tongue.

Wamuu flung him across the room, as effortlessly as one would swat away a buzzing fly, and the man crash landed into the tables in the corner; knocking them over like a bowling ball would pins.

"You have 3 seconds to get out before I throw you farther!" Wamuu snapped, taking one step towards the man laying in the entanglement of fallen chairs and tables.

The man clamored to his feet before Wamuu could come another step closer, somehow limping and running towards the door and out of the building.

As instantaneous as that fight, Wamuu was over the counter and kneeling by you, cupping your face in his hands. You were still crying, curled in on yourself where the man had grabbed you and shaking like a leaf in a bitter Fall wind.

"My dear sweet little one, shhh... shh.. it is alright." Your Husband crooned, pulling you into an embrace so gentle it seemed almost impossible coming from him after such a display.

You only cried harder, burying your face in his neck as all your nerves finally let loose. Wamuu held you in his arms for a good long while, he made sure to turn the closed sign however before anymore unwanted customers could come in for tonight.

He fully planned on speaking to your manager about this and your safety here from now on...

Santana:

• Santana wasn't confrontational unless given no other option.

• Chances were, if someone tried to pick a fight with him (whether by verbal abuse or physical violence) he would simply walk away, not interested in the slightest.

• It was almost as if they were invisible to him.

• If they tried to strike, he could just make their body phase right through his like nothing or his body would just go to rubber right around their limb.

• He was never really in the mood to fight with a primitive unless they TRULY annoyed him.

• More often when that happened they would be come dinner.

• But if someone tried to start a confrontation with you; he'd be the one to end it.

☆

"Oh yes!" You breathed a sigh of relief when you grabbed a hold of the roast sitting all by itself on the refrigerated shelf, a small triumphant smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

You honestly feared they'd be fresh out, you were having some Family over this Holiday weekend and needed this for the dinner you planned on preparing for when they came. This time of year it was hard to get a hold of good stuff at the supermarket as shoppers tended to all share similar traditions and that meant they also shared similar meal ideals.

You couldn't be more lucky you got your hands on the last one, lest you'd have to drive to the other supermarket across town to continue your search and most likely be disappointed there too.

You had sent Santana off with the list and cart to grab the other stuff you needed while you headed for this important item first. Now all you had to do was track down your Husband and drop this into your little cart so you could be one step closer to going Home to prep.

With the roast in arm, you started off.

"Hey!"

Someone shouted from down the isle but you barely even paid attention to it, chances were someone was arguing with a worker or another customer (as things like that also had the tendency to happen this time of year); another reason you wanted nothing more than to get your groceries and get out of the store.

Watching two customers duke it out over food and menial things was probably as uncomfortable as being part of the fight... at least in your eyes anyways.

"Hey stop!"

Once again the sound of the shouting fell on deaf ears as you kept walking, about to round a corner into another isle on your sojourn for your mate. Santana was most likely somewhere around the frozen foods section, he had asked if he could pick out some icecream for the weekend earlier in the car.

You stopped short when somebody grabbed you harshly by your arm, yanking you hard enough to spin you around. You actually let out a yelp in surprise, your eyes snapping down to the well manicured nails that were digging into the flesh of your arm. Your gaze instinctively followed the hand all the way up the arm connected to it, until you found yourself meeting the intense glare of the woman grabbing you.

"I told you to stop!" She snarled, your owlish expression not hindering any of her obvious anger from spewing out. "You took the last roast!"

She pointed accusingly at the hunk of wrapped meat cradled in your other arm with a long manicured nail.

You blinked, a brief sweat was starting to form underneath your clothing as your skin burned hot, crawling under the woman's hand; you wanted her off of you but she wouldn't let go.

"I-- Well, yes there was only one left--" you began, trying your best to explain yourself (let alone get a grip on your spiking nerves) only to be cut off.

"Well, I need it!" The woman tried to reach for it but you pulled away, only to be pulled back by her; nails pinching your skin like needles. "Give it to me right now! I need it more than you do!"

You tried to yank your arm from her grasp but she gripped you tight enough to make you cry out. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn't as they just got jumbled in your squeezing throat; you had saw it first, you needed it too for a special dinner, there were plenty of other places she could go to find one.

You really didn't want to quarrel with this crazy stranger over something as stupid as a piece of raw food, in a supermarket of all places.

"Let go!" You plead, not even caring about the roast or your weekend dinner plans anymore. You just wanted her to leave you alone!

One of her hands raised, fingers curling as she swung it down with the intention of clawing you right across your face... but her nails didn't find skin this time.

The woman gasped as her own arm was grabbed, the shock of it made her release you from her grip, and in one good tug she was pulled straight away from you.

Her gaze followed the huge, ivory skinned hand that dwarfed her arm, following it until her eyes met two sapphires burning holes into her from underneath thick crimson eyebrows.

Santana huffed through his nose, "Do not touch my mate, primitive." He commanded quietly, an order not to be ignored, however the surly woman wasn't done yet.

As quickly as it was lost, the scowl returned to her face and it was now directed onto Santana the youngest of the Pillarmen; not only was he your Husband, he was the wrong person to pick a fight with.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She fumed, getting right in his face rather than making the more wise decision and backing down. "Let go of me!"

Santana stared at her, not fazed in the slightest as she began to full on rant on about how it was wrong for him to grab her and that she would report him for assault (as if she hadn't just been violently assaulting someone herself) and she of course went the extra mile to add that her Husband was someone very important and he would be arrested.

It only made her angry all the more as the Pillarman just stood there, quiet, the very definition of disinterest etched into the features of his face. He honestly didn't care about her ramblings as there was no petty threat she could possibly make that would scare him away.

Her free hand lifted again and it swung with the intention of slapping him right across his face.

As soon as skin was supposed to meet skin, skin passed right through skin.

Now, the woman's angry demeanor crumbled for good, staring in horror as her hand simply went right through his face. Her hand was implanted right in his cheek, literally melded inside of his head, only the tips of her long nails were visible from the back of Santana's neck. She was stuck there, trying to pull herself out of him, the terror gripping her heart was the only thing keeping her from screaming to high heaven.

Santana never once said or did anything as she did, watching as he pulled and pulled to no avail.

Her whimpers slowly built up to full on cries of fear, Santana fully intended on making her feel the same thing you had just gone through with her. It was only until she was begging for him to release her hand from his body did he finally relent.

The minute her hand was freed from his face she stumbled back, almost falling and clutching her wrist as she fled from the isle and the supermarket itself; no longer caring about the product she tried to rip from you.

Santana merely exhaled, watching her go with a notable twinkle in one of his eyes before turning his attention to you. You were still pretty shaken up, thankfully you hadn't dropped the roast but you were nursing the arm where she had grabbed you and the imprints of her nails in your skin she had left behind. Wordlessly, he walked up and pressed a soft kiss to the cheek that woman had almost scratched as he took the roast from you, putting it in the cart right next to the tub of ice cream.

"They have been dealt with," he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through your whole body as he pressed you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "I will never allow anyone to harm you, my heart."

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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asset35-maya · 3 years

Text

HEAT WAVES

This is a short multi-character series about different kinds of love blooming in the summertime. Written as part of the DBH LATE SUMMER PROMPT CHALLENGE

(Read Parts 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 and 6 first!)

[PART 7/7: HEAT OF THE NIGHT]

**TW: SEXUAL CONTENT

“Hey baby.”

Gavin was barely audible as he shifted on Hank’s couch to make room for Nines. He opened his arms and let the android lay down with his back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around Nines’ middle and nuzzled his neck.

“I couldn’t find Sixty anywhere. Are you sure you didn’t see him leave?”

“Hmm…? No…”

“I think he’s disabled his tracker. The little shit! The house keeps coming up as his last location when I search for his signal!”

“Don’t worry, babe. He knows his way back. Like our cat… If Con went missing that would be a real problem. Like if Sumo went missing. But with Six… it’s like our bitch-ass cat. She comes and goes as she pleases. We shouldn’t wait up.”

Nines rearranged his husband’s sleepy grip to be less stifling and relaxed into the cuddle.

“Hmm. You always did understand my own brothers better than me. I just can’t figure out why he was so upset earlier.”

Gavin yawned and pulled Nines closer despite having just been pushed away a little. He tended to get handsy after a few drinks.

“He should be fine now...”

Frowning, Nines twisted in the human’s grasp. He was smooched lovingly before he could articulate any response. He allowed a few messy kisses before breaking off with a quiet whine.

“Gavin, if you know where he is, just tell me. I’ll sleep better for it.”

“Babe, I have no idea-”

He broke off as a rumble came from overhead. Something scraped across the tiles on the roof and came to a stop with a muted thud. Nines looked up at (and through) the ceiling, eyes glazing over and LED spinning rapidly.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

A detective through and through, Gavin chuckled as he easily deduced whatever Nines saw using his x-ray vision. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s throat.

“Just like us back in the day, huh?”

Allen broke away panting. He put a hand on Sixty’s chest to still him. It had been years since he’d done anything like this. Lying on top of a man’s house and making out with his son for hours like a teenager.

Their chaste first kiss had evolved into something decidedly more mature. Months of mutual pining and sexual tension spilled over effusively and now the two of them were rock hard and desperate for some kind of release.

Sixty moaned in Allen’s ear and ground against his thigh. With the way they were lying intertwined, that action also brought some much-needed friction to Allen’s groin. He sucked his breath in through his teeth.

“Sixty... just... Fuck it. Just touch me.”

“Are you sure, Cap?”

“Fuck, don’t call me that if you’re going to jerk me off!”

“Yes, sir.”

Sixty kissed him once more and undid the buttons of his jeans with ease. A hand slipped past the waistband and palmed his erection through his briefs. Impatient, Allen lifted his hips and brought both his underwear and jeans down to his thighs. Sixty’s eyes widened at the sight of the exposed and leaking cock.

Despite having very limited experience in this department, the android moved with confidence. He rolled over his captain’s body and captured his chapped lips in another deep kiss, wrapping a hand around the turgid shaft and stroking.

Allen sighed into the kiss with satisfaction and began to unzip Sixty’s trousers. He quickly found his prize and ran a thumb over the tip of the synthetic penis, producing a garble of static and glitching noises from the android.

Their wrists moved in tandem, speeding up and slowing down in a well-coordinated rhythm. Allen let his consciousness wander and allowed himself to forget that he was perched two floors above the ground. He placed all his trust in the android holding him. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, albeit in a very different context... so it was incredibly easy.

Sixty soon felt himself get near to the close and could tell that Allen was even closer. He withdrew his hand and peeled Allen’s fingers off his own dick. Looking deep into his new lover’s eyes, Sixty lowered himself further and brought their slick cocks in direct contact with each other.

That was absolutely the right thing to do, considering the loud moan that Allen let out. The older man clapped a hand over his mouth in shock at his own reaction, but quickly recovered when Sixty spat between them and began to move. Trapped between their abdomens, their cocks slipped and slid against each other... hardening and pulsing and twitching... and then finally releasing.

LED flashing a myriad of colors and cooling fans running high, Sixty finished with a groan and fell onto the roofing tiles beside Allen. They both lay there staring at the moon… thoroughly undignified… shirts hiked up over their nipples…spent cocks dribbling onto their stomachs.

“Great job, Cap.”

“You too... bud.”

Tina arched her back and clamped her thighs over his hips as she rode him, backwards. She tossed her hair and rolled her body in ways she’d only seen in certain films. If she thought about it for too long, it felt kind of silly. Like she was just playing a part and the director would yell cut any second.

But this was real. This was not a Hollywood studio. This was her boyfriend’s bedroom and this was the sex life she had now.

She wondered whether it had anything to do with him being an android... Connor was insatiable. He wanted her all day, every day, everywhere.

She didn’t know if or how long it would last, but hell, she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was the best sex of her existence and she would take however much of it she was given, especially if it came with heaps of adoration and praise and affection.

Connor jerked his hips underneath her. She got the message and picked up the pace. His hands came to rest on her stomach from behind and slid upwards slowly to cup her breasts. He held on tightly and sat up, pressing his chest against her back with enviable core strength.

Tina turned in his grip and he brought his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and invited his tongue in. He then leaned forwards and brought her crashing down onto the mattress. Another position, then.

With a series of implicit gestures, Tina relinquished the lead and passed the control back to Connor. He flipped her onto her back and hooked her legs around his waist, all the while buried deep inside and pumping ceaselessly. His deft fingers circled her clit and she knew that she’d be coming again... for the fifth time in a row.

“Hey T.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Gavin sighed against Nines’ bare back. Falling asleep was proving difficult, given the clamour from various parts of the house. He knew his husband was wide awake too.

“Baby…”

“Shhhh.”

“Don’t act like you can sleep through all this.”

“What?”

“Your siblings making multiple trips to bone town? Plus your dad trying to out-snore his dog. It sounds like we’re on a farm here.”

Nines made a petulant noise but Gavin could tell that he was also amused.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, I’ve always said… if you can’t beat ’em… join ’em…”

Gavin scooted around on the couch a little and pressed his groin flush against Nines’ backside. A sharp hiss escaped the android.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

There was a pause (during which a series of snores and moans echoed in the living room) while Nines considered the proposition. He apparently found little objection to it and ground back against Gavin’s hardening length.

“Now we’re talking.”

Gavin gently bit down on his husband’s shoulder and pulled on the drawstrings of the sweatpants they both wore. He eased the fabric off the both of them. In no time at all, his stiffening cock was between Nines’ cheeks and his hand wrapped around Nines’ shaft.

Self-lubrication was one of the things about androids that Gavin was eternally grateful for. He gathered the drip from Nines’ tip and coaxed him to full mast, all the while rutting against the slick crease of Nines’ ass.

Their motions were easy, well-practiced.

Once they were both fully aroused, he stroked his hands over Nines’ body and guided one of his thighs up to fully expose his entrance. There was absolutely no resistance. Even in the dark, there was no hitch to any of these proceedings. They’d made love like this a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times again.

Gavin took hold of his cock, gave it a few pumps and aimed. He slowly found his mark, slipping in and bottoming out with grace. He hooked an arm around Nines’ raised leg and waited a beat, before pulling halfway out and pushing back in exactly once.

“Ohhh…”

“Is that good, baby?”

“Shhh… don’t talk.”

Gavin smiled into the side of Nines’ neck and set up a gentle rhythm with his hips. He had to go with the shallowest of thrusts if they intended to stay on the couch. But that was fine, they’d had plenty of rough, fast sex in the early days of their relationship. They weren’t missing out on anything. In fact, nowadays both of them preferred the sweeter, gentler kind of lovemaking.

Nines reached behind and cradled Gavin’s head in the crook of his arm, pulling him down for a deep kiss. He obliged easily, and for his part, used the extra room to slip his free hand around Nines’ body and grasp his cock.

Under each other’s careful ministrations, they took turns to sink into the pleasure and fall apart. Eventually, when he could hold himself back no longer, Gavin began taking all the steps to make sure Nines came first. He sinfully grazed the synthetic prostate on every thrust…caressed his chest… teased his nipples… massaged his laden balls… and pumped his cock with dedication until Nines seized up against him and came with a muted gasp.

Gavin stroked him throughout the climax and caught the ejaculate in his fingers. Without any instruction, Nines grabbed his hand and licked the mess off his digits. Keeping his breath steady, Gavin pulled out and lay flat on the couch with his flushed and wet cock in the air.

The android moved over him with absolutely no need to be asked. Nines took his husband into his mouth and swallowed down to the base of his shaft with an utterly inhuman lack of gag reflex. Gavin finished down his throat and the two of them fell back into the spooning position that they’d begun in.

They lay together quietly, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow of yet another round of happily married sex. It was so blissful that they almost forgot where they were until one of Hank’s rumbling snores resounded through the house. Nines had the presence of mind to get up and pull their sweatpants back on before both drifted off to dreamland… uninterrupted by lustful moans from the spare bedroom and heavy thudding from the roof.

@connor-sent-by-cyberlife

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peppusae · 3 years

Text

[semi eita] ambivalence ch. 3 (nsfw)

note: this fanfic has multiple chapters, so please look forward to more!

ambivalence: semi eita x reader (ft. tendou satori x reader)

genre: smut

word count: 2k+ words

ambivalence

ch 3: all night

It’s a bit embarrassing to meet eyes with both Semi Eita and Tendou Satori after that night.

Tendou keeps his promise: You can see that he is dying to ask you what happened, but he remembers his promise and does not ask you anything about Yamagata’s frat party.

And you’re glad, because the sober version of you has already felt like that while remembering all the shameless things you’ve told Semi to do.

It’s even worse because it looks like Semi has the intention of being friends with you; he actually gives you a smile when you pass by each other during changing lecture halls, or when he finds you sitting with your friends at campus while he’s going back to his dorm.

The one time he caught you on your own by your locker, he had come to say hello to you, and you dropped your 589-page textbook onto your foot, almost coughed up your lung, and then blasted away to the library, too embarrassed to even respond back.

No wonder Satori looks so worried each time he looks at me… It looks like Semi hasn’t told him anything, and he is worried sick about finding out what was wrong with me.

It’s a good thing the week that followed was so jam-packed. You had 3 assignments back to back, and working on it during every minute besides your lecture hours meant that the week passed by in absolutely no time.

It’s a Saturday evening, and your usual Saturday evenings were ordering in food with Tendou, and the mad crazy adrenaline you two synergized together forcing you two to have sex - and these were the best kind, because it was during occasions like those when Tendou was his roughest - impatient and slamming into you with all his might so that he can fill you up before you’re food arrived.

Today, you’re laying in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to a little funk and soul while you wait for your meal to arrive.

It’s a bit sad to eat your food on your own, so you watch old re-runs of your favourite show while you eat.

Halfway into the second episode, you’re interrupted by a call - from a number you don’t even recognize.

Usually, you would ignore unidentified numbers, but you remember that you one of your lecturers would call to - very annoyingly - give unnecessary feedback on everyone’s reports.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. I’d have killed Satori if he gave me the wrong number.”

It’s weird because it’s crazy how Semi could recognize your voice instantly when all you said was a simple hello.

And It’s even weirder that you recognize Semi’s voice, too - Not when most of the speaking he did was in a very groggy, whiny drunk voice.

Hearing him now, his voice is much deeper than you recalled it to be, and your hands start to shake.

“Semi?!”

“That’s me. I asked for your number. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

It’s a bit odd that he would choose you out of everyone he knows and is acquainted with, so when you ask what you can do for him, you can hear a loud sigh from his side of the line.

“Not over the phone, though. Do you know my dorm number?”

Semi Eita is hot. You aren’t going to deny that. You remember everything he’d done and how good his tongue felt as he fingered you as if his life depended on it. The thoughts are embarrassing and it never leaves your head while you finish up the rest of your food, not forgetting to brush your teeth and put your hair up into a bun before you take out your keys and head outside.

Shiratorizawa Academy houses it’s university branch students in dorms divided into two wings of the building. The girls reside in the right wing, and the boys in the left. The academy is actually quite lax about rules, despite this separation; the only rule is that the students were not allowed in the rooms of opposite gender students after dinner at 9 pm.

The gays and lesbians win, for that rule . You think to yourself, finding it a little humorous while you take the lift for the fifth floor. Semi had sent you a text with his dorm room number, and you walk into the hallway, passing by the doors and finally coming across room 514.

Semi opens the door when you give a knock, and he welcomes you in while he gives a little hesitant smile.

No words are exchanged while you enter the room that looks like an exact replica of yours. Honestly, there isn’t much one can do to make their room that much different from another person’s. Because all of the rooms house only one student, the rooms are just big enough to fit a bed, a small cupboard, and a study desk. There’s only so much one can do to decorate.

The bedspreads are neat, and his desk is filled with various textbooks and notebooks, but otherwise, the cramped room is quite clean, for a guy’s place. You glance at Semi, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden, remembering how you avoided him so hard for the week, but you’ve come instantly when he asked for a favour.

“So? What did you wanna ask?”

Semi takes a moment to look at you while he closes the door. The way he takes a step closer to you makes you flinch, eyes going wide and taking a step back instinctively.

“What-”

“Why do you keep avoiding me?”

“Semi, what-”

Your sentence is interrupted when he takes two more steps towards you, and your move back till your back hits the door with a loud smack.

“I’m… not…”

“I didn’t make you go home that night so that you’d avoid me. I just didn’t want to do anything to you while you couldn’t even tell my face from someone else’s.”

“I wasn’t that drunk…” You fib instantly.

“Did you not like it?”

Your jaw drops open. For a moment his upset expression shifts to a little sad one, and it makes your heart race because that was the complete opposite of what your mind was reeling about.

“No! I liked it!” You end up blurting out. “God, I’ve been thinking about you literally every night since.”

While you want to smash your face against the wall in embarrassment, Semi responds with a little blink, tilting his head to the side.

“Then act like it.”

Those are the last words you hear before you feel his body against you, and Semi kisses you in an urgency that makes you moan as soon as you feel his tongue on your lips.

“The way you act in public and the way you do when I touch you are worlds apart.” Semi states in between kisses, his fingers rubbing circles on your skin from underneath your shirt.You’ve never felt so cornered and so embarrassed, your face heating up already because even the way Semi kisses is you insane, like he wishes you to devour you while he has you pinned against the wall.

“Please…”

“Lock the door.” He says, moving away, and as fast as you open your eyes, they shut right away when he begins to kiss your neck. Your entire body is shaking by now, legs feeling so wobbly as you try to keep your little whimpering sounds as quiet as possible and reach a hand out towards the door. Your hands are shaking like crazy while you lock the door, and Semi does not waste a single second, taking a step away from your neck - which instantly makes you frown - and asks you to strip.

You take a few seconds to get over the high.

“What?!”

“I’ve been really, really patient for long enough.” He says, taking your hand and leading you to the bed where you sit down, legs still feeling way too wobbly to keep standing. “So strip.”

The way he runs a hand through his hair is so hot, and you’ve always known that he was really, really good-looking, but it’s the first time you’re actually attracted to him, so your hands are shaking a lot while you unbutton your shirt, undoing your bra and standing up to take off your pants. Semi cups your face, kissing your lips once again and you lose focus a bit while you try to take off your panties.

“Please, please, please. ”

Semi softly makes you sit down, still not breaking the kiss and you can hear him unbuckling his belt, the sound of his jeans dropping down making you feel wetter than you already are. You slowly open your eyes, watching the way his eyes look a little hazy and half closed, biting at his bottom lip while he peels off your panties and throws them away.

He leans in, and you move back, lips meeting once again feeling his tongue once again in your mouth while he gets on the bed, slowly leading you to the head. When you rest your head on one of your pillows, you aren’t able to open your eyes because you can feel two fingers sliding inside you without warning.

That makes you gasp, the sound of his fingers going in and out of your cunt so loud that you find yourself turning red in embarrassment. You open your eyes, barely able to see the way Semi watches your every move, and eyes going a little wide when you grab hold of chunks of his hair from the pleasure.

Instead of adding more fingers, Semi bends down, tongue slowly swirling around your clit and making you arch your back.

You could swear your brain short-circuited for a moment when he softly sucks on your clit right as he inserts two fingers inside your cunt, curling them inside and making your legs come closer together at how different it feels, like he knew your body so well to be curling in right at the place that makes you see white.

When you pull at his hair and moan once again with shaky legs, Semi rubs his lips on your clit, and you’ve never ever felt this way, so much that you come right away, all over Semi’s fingers.

Your head reels, and you open your eyes, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but Semi...

Semi is surprisingly, agonizingly slow in his actions - much more so than Tendou.

And not just that, but Semi is mad stubborn.

You learn this from the way he glances at you with his face smeared with your juices - and then plunges another two fingers inside you again.

“S-Semi!”

“You finally called my name.”

“S-Semi, don’t-”

“What? I thought someone like you would want another orgasm right away?”

Your eyes go wide at what he said, and before you could say another word, he licks inside your cunt again, his agonizing rubs on your clit making your stomach form yet another knot right away, your legs shaking much, much more than it did the first time.

You feel so good, but you’re so embarrassed that you try to close your legs, calling his name - But Semi holds both your legs tight and apart, tongue never leaving your clit for a single second, pressing kisses and sucking so softly that your legs shake like crazy.

You don't realize just how much he had you under his control, until you come all over his face yet again, your entire body shaking while you have your eyes shut tight at the electrical feeling you’re experiencing.

“[Name]. How do you feel?”

You finally open your eyes while you try to catch your breath, and Semi is hovering over you now, pecking your lips softly before he slowly lies beside you. You extend an arm to the side, and Semi raises an eyebrow, saying nothing but coming closer to you, burying his face into your chest.

“I will never get enough of that, oh my God.” You mumble, wrapping your arm around Semi’s neck, feeling his hot breath on your chest. You think you hear him chuckle, you think you even heard the rustling of clothes, and you think you also heard the door close, but you can’t recall anything while you slip from the little line between consciousness and sleep.

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#semi #semi eita #semi eita smut #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu setters

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