#FUCK YOU TUMBLR I HAD MORE TO SAY. CUT OFF AGAIN AGH

[sollucets]

again, "graduation" [this is not the title] is not about thua or the world remembers. but they keep invading their way into my brainspace while im writing it

i'm cursed. i swear i'm cursed

i started musing about this in the tags and wrote. Too Many Damn Tags? like tumblr cut me off. i didn't even know tumblr could do that. so here they are out loud under the cut

#a kind commenter told me they'd want to see me do thua reconciliation scenes #and i didn't answer because i couldn't promise them i would #because i can't fuckin make up my mind about how id approach it #sigh. personally how i think it is #is that akk forgives thua basically straightaway because #1) he thinks he deserves it #2) they committed functionally the same crime so it would be hypocritical #and 3) he wants kan to be happy #so akk is like 'yes i was miserable and terrified and i have mental illness now' (like he didn't before) #but like. i always thought that would happen that's why i was so afraid to tell because i knew i'd deserve it \#2. 'the same crime' i mean literally that's what they did #(note: i rowan do not think this. akk was cult peer pressured into it and from that pov could've lost everything if he hadn't. thua... had other options) #i think the only part of the crime akk might actually be mad about is the journal stealing but that's because it really hurt aye #speaking of hurting aye: this is the only reason he's upset re: outing too #and so thua will get like. browbeat or guilted or whatever into apologizing to akk and akk will be like 'why someone had to do it' #and hell go 'i dont care but i want you to apologize to aye' #and that will not go nicely #because in the end aye cares about in this order 1. akk and 2. everything else #this is actually one of my favorite things about akkaye lmao. aye abandoning his morals #like. obviously he doesn't become Evil and he still wants akk to admit to it and all that i'm being a little dramatic #but..... if it comes down to it. in the moment. he'll pick akk every time because he loves him#and maybe he'll feel bad about it but he still Will #(this is also true of akk --> aye as far as rulebreaking and whatnot go) #so a thua -> aye apology... the thing is that i don't think thua feels guilty about anything short of the outing part and even then... #like. i think it's a bit. 'how do you like it' #aye outed thua to his mom for better or for worse. aye hid akk's secrets from thua. aye encouraged him to speak up and then Didn't

#so..... i don't know that thua would feel. 100% sorry #maybe that he hurt him. like on a personal level. they were friends #but without the context of 'aye being desperately in love and being the whole reason akk stopped and still trying to get akk to come clean'#man idk

and as a result to me i think that conversation would become a fight

in 'choices', i had aye sort of. forgive but not forget for the sake of group cohesion, which i do think he'd do because he is a lonely boy and these are his only friends here and also For Akk's Sake.

i also did that because choices is a gentle and fluffyish fic about akk getting used to pda and, as you can see, if i got into it i'd lose my damn mind [gestures up the page]

and in the end, truly, the people who deserve thua and akk's apologies are the world remembers. they deserved better than that "phi welcome back :)" because who Wouldn't say that!! theyd just been approached by all the prefects at once and their two bullies like.... are you gonna be anything less than perfectly polite

i'm even more torn about how to hypothetically handle "akkthua apologize to the jums" because i have even less insight on how They would respond to it agh

AGH

ahem. i have strong feelings on episode 11 of the eclipse. i continue to do so. dont even get me started on chadok ill be here all fucking day

#rowan chatter #when i said 'derailed' this is what i mean #ive been sitting here for an hour just fucking Thinking about it

[hanmaenthusiast]

Always and Forever

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

inui x f!reader

warnings - mdni🔞, praise, mutual pining?, sofa sex, oral (female receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, riding, body worship, creampie, basically vanilla smut, slight fluff, profanity, use of pet names such as angel and darling, one mention of blood.

synopsis - you and Inui had been living together for a while, one night he comes home wounded after being attacked at work, you have no choice but to help him out in one way or another.

a/n - this is my first post on tumblr & first time attempting smut! apologies for any mistakes, i’m hoping to write more in the future & get better at it lol, anyway the lack of inui on this app is killing me >:(

wc - 2,950

It was late, much later than usual. Seishu still hadn’t come home considering his shift finishes around 4 on a Saturday, you kept your gaze on the clock which continued to tick past 7pm. You found yourself worrying again, worrying about all the possibilities that could’ve happened to him. I mean it was normal to be this concerned, especially since your long term roommate was an ex gang member.

Once again you started pacing around the room, fingers etching to send another distressing ‘where are you?’ or ‘tell me you’re not dead’ text. Seishu’s stern words replayed in your mind ‘Stop worrying about me Y/N, focus on yourself for once’ as you remembered his constant lectures.

Finally gathering yourself together, a set of keys jamming into the front door caught your attention. Sprinting down the stairs your eyes glued onto Inui’s figure as he stood slightly hunched with a prominent bloody gash on his forehead.

“Seishu what the fuck?” you exclaimed, almost passing out at the sight in front of you. It was like you had premonitions about this scenario only seconds before he made his apperance.

“Agh, not so loud, my head is sore.” he groaned, running a hand through his hair after locking the door behind him. He shuffled his way into the room latching onto your arm for support.

“I can quite well see that, sit down over there i’ll clean you up.” you helped him over to the dining table, placing him down onto one of the wooden seats.

Inui told you what happened, how he was suddenly attacked by a group of presumed male gang members at the motor shop unbeknownst to why it played out. Your gut tightened at the story, afraid of any future encounters with them.

“Jesus, they got you good huh. You have to be more aware from now on, where was Draken hm? You better tell him i’ll-“

“Y/N.” Seishu let out a low sigh, he cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

His gemlike pearls fixed onto yours, exchanging a sombre look. You could tell he didn’t need to hear your berating.

“Sorry.” you muttered continuing to clean up his wound.

Ever since you met Inui, you stuck together like glue both having similar interests and mutual acquaintances made it easier to find a blossoming friendship. Of course, you felt a little more than friends towards Inui continuously expressing your feelings from early on.

“Y’know you’re super cute Seishu-“ you tilted your head, hovering it above his “no wonder there’s tons of people feening over you, me included.” you added, tracing a finger over his scar as he lay his head on your lap.

“Yeah? Same goes for you Y/N.” he replied with his tone full of sarcasm, according to him you were making a joke.

This continued for months, constantly sharing flirty remarks but never pursuing one another. Some people had their suspicions, Draken especially, always assuming you’re both in a secret relationship.

“Oi, Seishu your girlfriend’s outside.” Draken nodded towards the entrance of the shop, wiping his hands clean with a rag.

Inui exhaled followed with a roll of his eyes. “She’s just a friend Ken, i’ve told you this multiple times.”

“Seriously just a friend? That mean i have a chance ‘nupi?” Draken giggled, elbowing his colleague in the arm.

“Don’t you dare even try it.” Seishu warned him.

“There, all cleaned up. There’s some leftovers in the fridge too if you’re hungry.” you declared, but before you could retreat back to the sofa, a soft hand grasped you wrist.

“Thank you, genuinely Y/N. I hope you know i’m grateful for everything you do.”

His glossy eyes stared into yours as his sincere words spilled from his mouth. Seishu’s gaze left you with butterflies, a feeling of comfort you would admit, it was odd to see him so thankful seeing as you should be considered a burden to him for how often you seek his safety.

“I know you are, buuut all that praise will have my ego inflating, on another note it was kinda hot seeing your face all bloody.” you laughed kissing above his wound gently before finding a seat on the sofa.

Moments later Inui joined you, resting his head on your shoulder making use of the rest of the couch as he sprawled out his legs. Once he was settled, you both shared a mutual silence watching the TV.

...11:04pm

Your narrowing eyes scanned over your phone, squinting at it’s bright screen shining into your pupils as you attempted to read the time. ‘Shit, must’ve fell asleep.’ you concluded, shifting your weight onto your elbow as you propped up.

You noticed the familiar blondie sleeping tirelessly beside you, an arm positioned lazily over of your waist. Seishu was sound asleep, or so you thought, his ruffled hair tickling your cheeks as you found yourself laying back down facing towards him.

“So precious.” you whispered, lifting your palm gently onto his face as your thumb rubbed slow circles against his pale skin. This was probably the closest you and Seishu had been, cuddled together, bodies attached to one another seeing as the sofa wasn’t roomy enough.

“That feels nice.” Seishu whispered, his soft spoken voice breaking the silence. He brought his hand to yours, placing it on top as he matched your movements, fingers delicately tracing your skin.

“Oh- uhm, well it looks like we fell asleep, i hope you feel somewhat better after having a nap.” you croaked, suddenly feeling the heat rush to your face from embarrassment. Before you lingered around any longer, you sat upright as your back faced Seishu’s figure “I’ll let you rest a little longer-“

“No, stay.” he grabbed your wrist once again, restricting you from fleeing the scene. “Please…for me?” he pleaded, one arm resting on top of his forehead as the other hand was still wrapped around your wrist.

You hesitated, only for a second until you shortly gave into his innocent eyes face paired with a soppy look. “Anything for you Seishu.” you lay back down, again facing towards him on your side.

“Perfect.” he muttered a breathy whisper, a small smile formed on his face along with his emerald eyes flexing a lustrous stare. A dainty finger of his trailed across your cheek moving a strand of hair from your face.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed again, almost tongue-tied especially in this situation. You and Seishu were admittedly always close but never this intimate.

Once again the atmosphere grew silent but before you could mutter a word, Seishu let out a sigh. “You’re…perfect.” Inui murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Seishu…” a soft exhale escaped your lips.

Inui’s hand found it’s way to your chin, gently lifting it upwards so you were eye level to him. “Can i kiss you, Y/N?” his thumb swiped a slow stripe along your lower lip.

You nodded in reply, discreetly trying to hide your inner enthusiasm as you closed your eyes allowing Inui to take the lead. Seishu’s lips planted a longed for soft-lipped peck against yours, gradually finding motion as he continued kissing your lips.

The thumping of your heart increased, focusing only on the rhythm of how soft and velvety Seishu’s lips felt against your own. His a hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him without breaking contact.

Your free hand grasped his blonde locks, running your fingers messily through his hair. Your lips begun to plump, meshing together with Seishu’s perfectly as he slipped his needy tongue into your mouth.

“You- don’t know…how long i’ve- wanted this.” his voice muttered between kisses, claiming your lips after every word. You felt yourself grinding ever so slightly against Inui’s thigh, hoping to release the friction caused by his tongue senselessly invading the depths of your mouth.

Faint whimpers escaped your lips as you continued to slowly rock yourself against Inui’s lower half. “Seishu~“ you panted quietly “N-need more.” your hand balled up his shirt, gripping onto it for support.

Inui’s hand which recently held onto your waist found itself sneakily travelling under your cami, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. He made quick work of removing your shirt slowly followed by slipping off your undergarment.

“God, you’re gorgeous Y/N. So fucking gorgeous.” he admitted, lips tracing along the outline of your jaw as his eyes glistened at the sight of your naked breasts exposed in front of him. “Prettiest tits ever.” His soft hands ghosting over your breasts, thumb and pointer finger capturing one of your hardened nubs beginning to knead the flesh of your mounds.

Seishu slowed his pace, a small string of saliva connected your lips as he broke the kiss. “Tell me what you need angel. Although i must say, the rutting against my leg isn’t very discreet darling.” he joked letting out a small chuckle, eyes glancing down to your clothed needy cunt.

“Want you to…“ you struggled to express your needs, unable to finish your sentence as you buried your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Don’t go all shy on me now angel, use your words for me okay?” Seishu placed a hand over your tight shorts, pads of his fingers rubbing against your clothed pussy as moved them up and down ever so slightly.

“Ngh! Want more of that, please Seishu.” you choked, almost begging on your knees asking him to please your throbbing cunt. Seishu made quick work of removing your lower garments, pulling down your shorts as he was met with your drenched panties.

“Look at that mess darling, you got this wet just for me?” he caressed your face again, helping you lay underneath him as he moved further down to your lower area, delicately peppering kisses along your stomach.

Inui’s hot breath fanned lightly over your clit “May i?” he questioned. “Yes Seishu.” you replied almost immediately, lifting your hips a little higher to allow easier access to your heat.

Inui’s hands spread your things, gripping onto them for support. His tongue licked a stripe between your folds, coating your cunt with his spit. “Mhm, just how i imagined.” Seishu continued to speak careless whispers into your cunt, his tongue twirling it’s way onto your throbbing clit ultimately forcing you to grind your hips on his face.

His tongue toyed with your bud, circling hearts as he pleasured your arousal. Inui slipped a finger into your entrance, slowly pushing it further before adding a second finger in to accommodate it. “Seishu! Fuck!” you cried out, moaning into you palm.

“Let me hear that voice of yours Y/N.” Inui encouraged you, his eyes staring from above your seeping cunt fingers pumping into you at an increasing speed. “Ngh! Seishu- i’m close!” your hand pushing his head further into your pussy.

Inui’s fingers padded against your sweet spot, curling in motion as he pumped them in and out of your cunt. His tongue continued licking your throbbing clit sucking onto it simultaneously. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna make me cum from that look on your face.” he moaned, fingers scissoring into you faster.

“Fuck~ Seishu- i’m-“ you were cut off by your own moans, legs shaking from the sudden orgasm as your wet slick spilled from your entrance. “Good girl.” Inui let out a hoarse whisper as he pulled his fingers out which glistened in the dim light covered from the tip of his finger to his knuckles in your own cum.

Inui stuck his digits into his mouth, sucking off every last drop of you. “You did so well for me angel, i’ve waited so long for this exact moment.” he exclaimed, hovering above your face before kissing you on the lips again.

“Seishu…i need more of you, right now.” you demanded, a hand palming the tent growing in his pants. Seishu picked you up, resulting in you straddling his lap on the sofa as he sat beneath you. You lifted your hips before quickly pulling down his shorts letting his cock immediately spring free.

Your eyes grew wide. You never expected Seishu to have such a pretty cock, nevermind larger than you’d have imagined. “Like what you see? Seem’s like you underestimated me darling.” he caressed your waist “Lift yourself up for a sec.” as he tapped the outer side of your thigh.

“Wait- wait…i’m on birth control.” you mentioned stopping Inui from getting a condom from the drawers. “You sure about this?” he smirked somewhat enjoying the fact he gets to fuck you raw the first time.

You nodded again, his tip begun toying against your wet folds before casually slipping the head into your dripping entrance. “Agh~ Fuck Seishu!” you let out a breathy moan, eventually taking the full length of his cock. “So tight, ngh- oh fuck.” Inui spoke, guttural whimpers releasing from the depths of his throat as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

His hands gripped your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he pulled you gently down onto him. You both adjusted to the position, flashing Seishu a look of encouragement as he slowly started to bounce you on his cock, his hips slightly lifting along with yours.

“You like that yeah? Look at those pretty tits.” he mewled as he buried his face onto one of your exposed breasts, tongue ravaging your perky nipples. “Faster- please.” your hand finding its way to the back of his neck.

Inui bucked his hips into you, bouncing you faster onto his rock hard cock. The smacks of your ass echoed throughout the room as they collided with Seishu’s thighs, your tits bouncing along with every movement as Inui pounded further into your cunt. He quickened his pace again, this time you begun grinding faster matching with his speed in which your legs almost turned to jelly from the fastened movements.

“G’na cum so quick baby~.” you whined, dragging out his pet name whilst throwing your head back as he plowed into your pussy. The adrenaline mixed with arousal was too much, your eyes beginning to roll back from the way Seishu’s tip prodded against your g-spot like he was a miner digging for gold.

Seishu kept a firm grip on your ass, still pounding into you as he continued sucking on your tits giving each one equal attention. “Need- agh- your cum on my cock darling.” manoeuvring his hand to your pulsating clit as he thumbed your nub generously. “Yes ngh~ want you so bad Seishu, want your cum inside me.” you choked out, drawing out your moans from the stimulation his cock was causing as he abused your sex.

Inui flipped you over, cock still fucking your tight cunt as you lay on your back, legs wrapping around his waist. “I’ll fuckin’ give it to you Angel, fill- agh- you up with my cum real good.” he cooed, voice almost gravelly from his own moaning.

He smacked his hips against your ass, cock slipping from your hole a few times. “Wettest cunt I've had.” Inui quipped. “The only cunt you’ll ever have from now.” you sent another remark back. 

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

His fingers padded against your clit, vigorously rubbing against it paying close attention to the nub. “Shit- g’na cum gorgeous.” Inui let out another guttural moan “Let’s- cum together.” he ordered you, quickly intertwining your fingers with his as he took your hand. 

Seishu somehow gathered his stamina letting out a few final hard thrusts along with you bucking into him, your walls gradually spasming around his cock. “Agh- Fuck~” you simultaneously croaked, Inui came inside your cunt. Your wet slick spilled all over his cock along with your insides overflowing with Seishu’s seed.

A slow and steady pace allowed you to both ride out your highs, Seishu caressed your cheek removing your hair stuck to your face. “My god you’re gorgeous Y/N.” he pulled himself out, the mess inside leisurely spilling from your entrance.

“Hold on Angel, I'll clean you up.” Seishu grabbed a rag from the washroom, helping you gently as he tided the mess. He came back in his nightwear, seemingly grabbed a shirt that was his which he placed over your head, covering your exposed body just before he lay beside you on the sofa. 

Inui held you tight against him, wrapping his arms around your figure. He knew how to make you feel safe and extremely comfortable, only two of the things on your never ending list of praise for him.

After a short lived moment of silence, you exhaled out a tired sigh “Seishu...I think I lo-”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You jolted. Almost speechless at his sudden confession, dumbfounded even, burying your face away from his vision once again “No fair, I was gonna say it first.” you complained, lightly pushing his chest. “I wanted to be the first to say it-” he reassured your complaints “I was just looking for the right time.”

“Crazy how it was after you fucked me, eh?” shooting a cheeky wink towards his face. “Yeah right it was a spur of the moment, you were about to say it too.” he spoke in defence, giving you a kiss on the forehead as an apology.

“Not sure why I waited so long, I guess I was just afraid of hurting you.” his answer was sincere, stroking your hair tenderly “I really do love you Y/N-”

“Not to mention how my head no longer hurts, all thanks to you.” Inui gloated.

You sighed, probably in relief after realising the love you shared for him wasn't just some one sided waste for all these years. “I love you too Seishu-” you replied.

“...always and forever.”

#seishu inui #inui seishu #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #inui x y/n #inupi seishu #tokyo revengers inui #inui x reader #seishu inui x reader

[falcqns]

Hey, can I request one probably smut, where I'm working on Henry's makeup for Geralt and my cleavage bothered him a bit because he became hard? 🤭🙈 Take care!

our little secret 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: smut, bodily fluids, swearing, dirty talk 

A/N: I absolutely loved this request! I’m sorry it took so long to finish, I was so close a few days ago bUT TUMBLR DELETED IT AGH> hope you enjoy!

our little secret 

You were dabbing foundation on Henry’s pale skin when you noticed that he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Mainly, he couldn't take his eyes off of your breasts.                   

Were you wearing something a little more risky than normal? Yes. Usually, you wore a sweater to work, especially in the mornings. You did live in England after all, and you weren't dumb. 

But, did you also forget to do your laundry last night so the only acceptable item of clothing that you had to wear as a very low cut tank top with lace covering the top? ...Also yes.

As you moved around his head to continue to do his makeup, you just happened to glance in the direction of your phone, and just happened to see that Henry had a very definite bulge in his grey sweatpants.

You felt a blush begin to creep up your neck, but ignored it, and continued to work, attempting to ignore the bulge in his pants.

As you were preparing his wig, you got a call from Lauren, the show runner. There was quite a bad storm coming in, and filming was pushed back at least 3 hours. 

“Shit,” You said, as you hung up the phone, causing Henry to glance up from his own.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You turned to look at him. “Filming has been pushed back a few hours,” 

He sighed and let his head fall back against the makeup chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing, which you chose to ignore as well.

“I’m just glad you didn’t put the wig on me yet,” He said, giving you a charming smile, which you returned, and began to clean up your materials.

He stood up, and tugged on his coat, before turning to you.

“Why don’t you come and chill with me in my trailer until filming resumes? I can’t imagine you'd want to stay in here all alone.” He suggested, and you saw no reason to say no.

“Sure,” You said, giving him a smile. “Thank you,” 

He smiled back. “No problem.”

You finished packing everything up, and headed out to Henry’s trailer. As soon as you entered, you were greeted by Kal, who wouldn't let you pass until he got some pets, which you more than gladly gave. 

You followed Henry and took a seat on his couch.

“What?” You said with a giggle, when you noticed that Henry was staring at you again.

Henry cleared his throat before he talked. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

You giggled. “N-no,” 

He smiled, and lifted his arm to rest on the couch behind you. 

“Well, I think you are so incredibly beautiful, Y/N,” He whispered.

You felt the blush return 10 times more intense. “T-thank you, H-Henry,” 

“You’re welcome,” He took your smaller hand in his bigger one. “I-I’m sorry if that came off as creepy, I just-” He stuttered, running his thumb along the skin on your hand. “I can’t get you off my mind. I haven't been able to since you started working on set, but I’ve been too scared to ask you out, no matter how much I wanted to,” 

You scrunched your eyebrows, before placing your free hand on his thigh. 

“Why were you scared?” You whispered. He chuckled slightly, but explained himself.

“I don’t know. We just have quite a big age difference, and I didn't think you’d be into guys my age.” You giggled, and slid your hand up his clothed leg until you were just below where he needed you most.

“You’re the reason I took this job, Henry.” And with that, you were immediately pulled into Henry’s lap. He had a tight grip on your hips, and was pressing you down into his erection. You moaned out, and grabbed the back of his neck for stability, as you ground your hips on his.

“I know you saw how badly I wanted you,” He whispered into your ear huskily, which only spurred on your actions. “Please tell me you want this too,” You immediately nodded. “Gods, yes,” You whimpered out.

He tugged the bottom of your tank top out of your leggings, before running his hands underneath to feel your skin, hips still grinding together.

“I fuckin knew your skin was softer than heaven,” He moaned. His eyes fluttered down to your lips, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

He gripped your bum, and stood up to lay you on the bed. He climbed over your body, buried his head in your neck, and resumed the grinding of his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” You moaned out, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

He moaned, before sitting up. His hands slid up your tank top once more, and came to rest on your breasts. 

“As much as I love the way you look in this tank, I’d much rather see it on the floor,” He said, and you nodded. He lifted it up, and off of your body, tossing it on the floor.

He let out a low growl before at the sight of your light purple lacy bra. He looked at you with lust blown eyes before he buried his face in between them, kissing and licking over every inch of exposed skin. 

“These,” He moaned out breathily. “These are my fucking Kryptonite. Have been for months now,” 

You threw your head back and moaned loudly. 

You reached your hands out to run it over his chest that was still covered by a black t shirt. Henry, understanding what you wanted, all but ripped it off, tossing it on top of yours.

He trailed his hand from your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts. It came to rest on the top of your leggings. He took your left leg, and hooked it around his hip.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, looking you deeply in the eyes.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, desperately.” 

He gave you a warm smile, and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before continuing. He looped his fingers into your leggings and pulled them down your legs.

He threw his head back and moaned at the sight of your light purple cotton underwear.   

“Holy fuck,” He moaned out. You giggled at his reaction and reached your hand out to run your fingers through the curls atop his head. 

His fingers moved up from your thigh, and trailed them lightly over your clothed mound.

As he hooked his fingers into your underwear he made eye contact with you, once more.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, but I’m so desperate to be inside you that I might cum from just eating you out.” He said.

You arched your back and cried out. “Please stop teasing H-Henry,”

His eyes softened, and stood up, ridding himself of his grey sweatpants and blue boxer, before climbing back on the bed to join you. You reached out and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, and began to stroke slowly.

His head fell forward, and stared at you jerking him off slowly. His hand wrapped around your wrist, and stopped your actions.

“Another time,” He promised, before situating himself in between your legs. His hand lined himself up to your entrance, before making eye contact with you once more.

“You ready?” He whispered.

You nodded, and he grasped your smaller hand in his before slowly pushing inside you. You moaned at the stretched, and he slowed his actions.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’ve just never been this full, is all.” You said, and he lowered his head to yours, connecting your lips. 

He broke the kiss, and looked you in the eyes, your foreheads touching. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, make you feel so good.”

He slowly slid the rest of the way in, before dropping to his elbows which laid on either side of your head.

“Are you ready?” He breathed out, his lips brushing your ear.

“Y-Yes.” 

He nodded, and began to slide in and out of you, at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips bucked up to meet his every time he bottomed out inside you. 

Your combined moans became louder each time as he gradually picked up speed, from slow and sensual thrusts, to harsh and rough thrusts.

He sat up on his knees, and gripped your hips, his eyes locked on where the two of you were connected. His eyes eventually drifted up to yours.

“I’ve been dreaming about being this deep inside you since the moment we met,” He growled out, squeezing your hips harder. 

“Fuck, Henry!” You cried out, both at his words, and at how good it felt to have him inside you after wanting it for so long. “I’ve wanted you inside me like this for Fucking years, Henry. Ever since I saw you in Mission Impossible,” You rasped out. 

His head fell back and he all but shouted a moan out, as his hips began to thrust into yours even harder.

“I almost bent you over the fucking makeup chair when I saw you wearing that fucking tank top this morning,” He murmured. “Especially leaning over me, pushing your heavenly tits into my face, fuck. I almost came in my pants at the sight of that,”

You felt your high approaching, and didn't even try and warn Henry about it, because you could sense that he was close as well. 

He had leaned back slightly, his hand gripping your waist while the other gripped your thigh, his hips snapping into yours at an insane speed, with nothing but moans falling from his lips.

His right hand came from where it rested atop your left thigh, and wrapped itself  around your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I wanna watch your pretty little face when you fall apart on my cock,” He grunted, and all you could do was moan in response.

His hips ground into yours two more times, before your orgasm pulsed through you, and you shouted his name. Your back arched, legs and arms tensed, and eyes squeezed shut.

“FUCK,” He shouted, before he stilled inside you, and his release filled you.  

A few moments later, he collapsed on top of you. He rolled off of you a few moments later, and pulled you so you were tucked into his side, your head on his chest.

“That, was amazing,” You said, and Henry chuckled at your reaction before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Yeah, it was. I just hope no one heard us,” He muttered, his head drifting towards the window opposite his bed. “I want this to stay our little secret a little while longer, if you'd let me,” 

You sat up slightly to look at him. “What do you mean?”

he chuckled before reaching up to kiss you again. “If you think I’m letting you go after sex THAT good, you're insane, angel.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry!holmes #geralt of rivia #thewitcher #request

[arllenn]

Hey there, I rarely check on Tumblr nowadays due to work and stuff but I've played Dragon Raja for a while now so if it's not too troubling, I would like to request a fic of MC giving Osho and the others a well deserved verbal smack down during the final showdown (the MC didn't blame the Gen siblings for what happened to them and managed to save Erii from Osho). Bonus if MC cut ties from everyone after the mission... Sorry, I'm a huge fan of angst.

Tags for this chapter: angst, violence, all bitter no sweet, respawn system gets abused for angst Tw: cannon typical violence, graphic-ish descriptions of death, blood, suicidal thoughts and almost actions, wounds and the like

You’re clutching yourself as you shake knees getting weaker by the second, hiccuping and heaving the flood of tears that decorates both your face and the street under you with the weight of your emotions are the only constant for you. You’re drowning in your own emotions, phantom pains of all of your recent deaths and revivals clawing at you demanding your attention, demanding your time. You’re hugging yourself trying to mimic the comforting action that you remember from your childhood. “Why isn’t it working.” You choke out sobbing harder as you grip your arms. It’s too tight yet not tight enough, your limbs responding to your pleas is a sign that you’re still alive yes, but, but this is, this isn’t what you want.... this isn’t what you want at all. Your nails are far sharper than you remember them they tore through the flesh of your arms lightly. You could feel Herzog’s claws ripping through your flesh as well, everything hurt, you want to go home, you want to go home, you want to go home.....

But you can’t. Everyone was dead, at one point Caesar had said that Black Swan Bay had sunken, so the actual land was probably gone too, nothing left to remember that place but you Zero and Z. God you wanted to see them right now, the area on your head that he had patted earlier seemed warm giving you a small amount of comfort but also dealing even more damage to your psyche. You wanted to go back to those warm days in your childhood when none of this was known to you. When you weren't running around matchmaking and doing everyone else's work while also getting nothing in return, not a thanks, not even a small indirect amount of appreciation or encouragement. Your legs buckled under you your arms reching out as if to grab onto something to stop you from falling. Your knees met with the ground violently scraping at the skin there. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, youcantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreathe, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts, why is he doing this to you didn't he love you? That man, Herzog, had raised you. You had spent so much time at that orphanage, you were so happy. So why.  whywhywhywhywhyhwhywhy. You recalled warm winter nights spent in front of the fireplace curled up with Zero on one side and Z on the other.

You remembered one day specifically. Back then you lot were young, so, so, so, young. You chuckled choking on your tears, that day Z and you had spent a solid hour arguing over who would run over to get Zero, that day it had started raining, then the rain had turned to hail mid hide and seek game. Z had found you moments before the storm started. You two ended up huddled under the ice bridge. The orphanage in sight but seeming miles away due to the storm. Zero had been caught first and had gone back to the courtyard as per the rules so she was probably fine. You needed one of you to go and get her so that she could bring back an umbrella for the other. Then you had heard it, the sound of thunder wolves nearby. Then Z, with no hesitation had, scooped you up put your head under one of the flaps or his jacket and ran back to the cottages. All while you could hear the heavy ‘thunk thunk thunk’ of wolf paws behind you. Looking back on it now those wolves were probably the result of Herzog’s experiments and not a naturally occurring species. The souring of your childhood memory made bile rise in your throat, the thought of looking at your early life through that lens rather than just christmas day made you want to scream. Z and Zero were so different from your seniors. If you had been with any of them back then you knew for a fact that they would’ve sent you to deal with the wolves, only coming in when you were a hairs breath away from dying.

But that hadn’t save you before, you can’t count how many times you’ve died sense meeting them. From your flesh being torn from your bones by death servitors to bleeding out in some nameless alleyway after being shot by hydra’s soldiers. You had also drowned at one point, that death had been the worst. You remembered clawing at the water begging for the chance to live once again, you remembered feeling your legs tear off after the submarine had exploded, you remembered reaching your mangled arms out, out, out towards the light that came from the surface of the water. You remember feeling the water force itself down your throat and into your lungs, it burns, it hurts, it burns, it hurts. You had been seeing flashes of reality as well as the last time you ended up in cold waters like those. It didn’t matter because in the end you had died. It never matters how hard you try, how many times you die, because you always end up failing.

You lay on the sidewalk screaming, there was no one nearby nor anything that you could hear other than the pounding of rain on the sidewalk and your own sobbing. Your hand burned with the new blood that flowed inside you. Your mind burned with the scars of the past that it never got to address, your heart burned with the open wounds this mission had left you with. You wanted to die right here, sink away into nothingness. Stay in the room with the grand piano and flowing waters. No one could bother you there, no one could make you do meaningless tasks without your say, there was no matchmaking, no pointless errands, no suicide missions, there was nobody but yourself there, just you, just you. Luminous wouldn’t be there to make you do his work, he wouldn’t be there swearing to be by your side to help you while simultaneously doing nothing at best and dragging you down at worst. There wouldn’t be a Caesar there to send you on every reconnaissance mission with no backup and no direction. Johann wouldn’t be there to demand information on your past like he had even earned the right to know it, like he didn’t need to earn that right because it should just be given to him. Just you in a place where no one could hurt you.

You looked up from the ground that you had been staring at, bringing your hands up to your neck you squeezed. It wouldn’t work in terms of killing you, you knew that, but it worked as an easy substitute, feeling the pressure of your own hands on your neck, the shortness if not complete lack of breath, the light headed feeling, it served as a less drastic solution for now.

“It’s great to see you all safe and sound!” Eva’s voice cut through the momentary peace that you had found, your hands reflexively letting go of your neck.

“Safe and sound?!” You repeated in disbelief, “What part of any of me seems to be safe and sound?” It felt like she was mocking you. The memories of Herzog’s claws slicing through your spine, through every part of you, flashed then the words ‘It’s great to see you all safe and sound!’ Played over them, those words were the last thing you wanted to hear right now. Why,why,why,why,why is your pain always ignored like this? Why is it always your job to make everything right? You can’t do this anymore! You won’t do this anymore.

Bringing your fist up you smashed at your communicator, “Cassell- will...turn th-this into- into no-nothing more th-th-th-then a dream for every- every- everyone” Eva’s voice though distorted still managed to snake its way out of the thing despite all the damage you had done to it.

"AGH, SHUT UP!" You yell slamming your fist down harder and harder, each time screaming, begging for her to "JUST SHUT UP" You're crying even harder now. The glass that made up the outer layer of the screen. The rest of her words came out broken and jumbled, and even if they hadn't been due to the damage your screaming and shouting would've drowned it out anyways. "STOP. TALKING. JUST. SHUT. UP."

"Caesar helping you to-to-to destroy- criminal underworld.... true story- believe." Your fist paused midair at those words. Caesar had helped to destroy the criminal underworld? That was the story that they were going with? Not even the whole team, just Caesar what kind of absolute bullshit was that. You had done 100 times more then the supposed hero of the story, hell Luminous had done more, fucking Erii had done more. So where did they get off on this- this- you didn't even have a word for it it was so stupid, so stupidly infuriating. Herzog had said that the people from Cassell had experimented on you, and while he wasn't one to be trusted you sure do feel so fucking dumb for defending them. At least Herzog had the common decency to put up an air of kindness. These people just treated you like a convenient tool, something to be used and dealt with as they pleased. Something that didn't need thanks or praise or a break because it was an object meant to be used and thrown away as they saw fit. "Re-re-re-return to takamagahara to say-say-say-say-saysay goodbye-bye-bye to-" Your fist swung down with overwhelming strength shattering the communicator completely. Broken pieces of metal and glass embedded themselves in your hand bringing a fiery pain that slowly destroyed all of you in its wake. You fell even further onto the concrete clutching your hands one in the other relishing a bit sickly in the pain that it brought. Your right palm glowed with the same light it first had when you had accepted Erii's blood. Then it started rejecting the pieces of metal and glass in both of your hands. Slowly pushing them out and healing the cuts instantly once they were out.

Chuckling you flipped over your hands looking at both perfectly healed sides. It was like you had never been hurt in the first place. You marvled at them, twisting them over and over again, bringing them to your neck once again you smiled and closed your eyes. You had no idea what you were. Had you always been like this? An undying freak with special powers? Had Herzog's experiments done this to you? It was obvious that your new healing ability came from Erii's and the light king's combined blood but what about everything else? Had you been born this way? Was it Herzog's half baked evolution pills? Had Cassell truly experimented on you? Z said you had the capability to become a dragon lord now, but what did that mean? What did that make you? Your chuckles turned into full of peels of laughter, your cheeks stinging at the feeling of both the semi dried tear tracks being pulled at as well as the force of your laughter. The peels of laughter soon mixed with pained sobs and you were once again back to crying. You weren't going to put up with this anymore. Dropping your hands you slowly stood up like a puppet on strings. Walking at a slow pace one second in between each step you started walking.

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

Anjou is in one of the VIP rooms with a man dressed like a pastor. You don't care what they're talking about, stepping in front of the pastor you look over at him. He takes steps back on his own, unprompted, it's a first but then again you suppose that you probably look like the walking dead, and in a way you were, not to mention that you also felt like it. A lukewarm apathetic haze settled over your emotions as you looked down at Anjou. He's the second person you met after waking up, he's the whole reason you, a freshman at his wacky school that you hadn't even been asked if you wanted to join, were on this mission. How stupid is he? He had sent you, a person who had what he described as 'little control' over your extra skill and who had just woken up after a freeze bath in Siberia on this mission, an SS ranked one that he was hesitant to even send his best students on already. So why had he chosen you? Why did you have to die over and over for a cause you didn't understand and people you don't know. "Freshman." he nodded as though prompting you to speak. He never broke eye contact or even showed any emotions other than a laid back and relaxed expression. It pisses you off. Why is this old dingbat relaxing, kicking back and enjoying his time while your'e such a mess? He gestures for the priest to leave and he does. Leaning forward elbows on his knees he looks you up and down before going back to making eye contact. "What has you so worked up?"

You want to cry, its the closest you've gotten to an 'are you ok' sense waking up but at the same time you wanted no part of a wellness check led by the man in front of you. "Herzog said that Cassell College experimented on me. Is that true?" You can almost make out a hint of surprise in his eyes before he starts laughing. You bight your lips pulling them into your mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back your anger wanting to get your answer first before you rip him a new one.

"Goodness no, why would you ever believe anything that old snake had to say, and here I thought you were a once in a decade genius. I suppose that title still belongs to Johann then." You ball your hands into fists. Its more than obvious that he's making light of the situation. Didn't he know that you had been raised in Black Swan Bay? Didn't he know that Herzog, a man who you had trusted, had experimented on you? Is he incapable of connecting the dots between your trauma and your current situation combined with Herzog's words? No he did know, he knew and he still chose to make light of everything you had gone through. Insinuating if not blatantly saying that you were an idiot for believing that what happened to you once could happen again. Slamming your hand down on the table you levied on him the worst glare you could, the burning behind your eyes letting you know that you probably looked less menacing then you wanted to.

"Where the fuck do you get off saying something like that to me." It's phrased as a question but its really not. It's a challenge for Anjou to defend his words, one he unfortunately takes you up on.

"I understand that this whole mission and especially today has been taxing on your team but that doesn't mean you should and can snap at everyone like that freshman. Take sometime to cool off, go outside and talk to your seniors, hopefully they'll be able to reach you in ways I cannot." He's getting up to leave after his mini lecture, essentially passing you off to be someone else's problem but you wont let him leave that easily. Your hand grabs onto his forearm stopping him in his tracks. For a millisecond you consider punching him. Beating him over the head with one of the glasses on the table, but the part of your brain that still, despite everything, says that you ca't do that to him because he had pulled you out of Siberia's ice who knows how long ago says not to. And it wins.

"I'm not going to apologize for my language-" He cuts you off with a tut of his tongue, now you have no regrets for the words you planned on saying next. Letting go of his arm you continued. "I'm entitled to be angry when an asshole says asshole things. And I'm allowed to curse said asshole out however much I want." You step in front of the exit crossing your arms, you catch a momentary glimpse of your face in one of the metal outlinings of the wall as you do. You truly do look dead, eyes lifeless and lightless, face twisted into a painfully weak version of the you that you wanted to portray. You know that in this position you run the risk of your conversation leaking out of the room but honestly you don't care, like at all. At this point you want to just scream and cry your emotions out. But you can't because you don't want to, you don't want to be any weaker in front of anyone than you already are.

"Freshman-"

"I was raised by Dr. Herzog for so so many years and the whole time he was experimenting on me and everyone I knew. And-and-and you expect me to just trust you when you say that you didn't do anything. You expect me to rule that out as a possibility when you've given me no reason to, not in terms of character or proof. So why would you say that me believing that random strangers who I've known for less then a month and who I, if I'm being honest don't trust, experimenting on me is a dumb fear?" You clutch at your heart bunching up the cloth that protects it. "I just- do you see why thats dumb? Do you see why it makes no sense to me? One day I'm celebrating christmas as normal with my friends the next minute I'm smacked in the face with the fact that the man that I considered a father," you gag a bit on the word, "has been experimenting on me and everyone that I love, that he's been killing all of us as soon as we turn 18 because we wont survive to 22 because of his experiments? Finding out that he thought of us, children he had been raising for years as nothing more then science experiments who had outlived their uses. Do you have any idea how much that fucking hurt? I had to watch everyone die around me while I wasn't able to do anything! Zero even sacrificed her life to save me and I still ended up dying so many times anyways." You're clutching at yourself again, seeking comfort in the only arms that you can trust right now, your own. You're glaring down at the floor trying to blink the tears away. It doesn't work. You're basically two steps away from dry heaving and sobbing. Anjou reaches out his hand, most likely to guide you to sit down but you slap it away. "Don't fucking touch me. You sent me, a freshman who hadn't really even enrolled in your school or been given the choice to do so on a suicide mission with other students and no adult supervision from the college itself. I've died so many times sense waking up. It always hurts, it's never been painless, I've never been thanked and yet you expect me to just what- put my blind trust into you? I spent more time around Chime then I did you and he spent half of the time as Ruri Kazama."

'"Freshman you're hyperventilating you need to calm down."

"I WONT CALM DOWN" You're yelling now, its not the same kind of painful shouting that you had done earlier on the street, this is loud as well yes, but its from a frustrated sadness rather than a devastated anger. "Why did it have to be me? Weren't there other students you could've sent? Adults? Why did it have to be me? You had no reason to trust that I wouldn't kill the others. I had justwoken up and you decided that I was your best choice? You didn't tell me anything you just threw terms out and expected me to understand. You didn't even give me time alone to breathe let alone ask questions." Your chest is tight, you can feel each of your deaths, piercing pain of claws slicing through flesh, the burning heat of bullets, the singeing of fire, being torn to pieces. You can feel it all and it all hurts so much. You want it to stop, you need it to stop. You don't want to hear these people talk like they're your friends like they care anymore. It's all too much, you're almost sobbing now, curling in on yourself to try and mitigate any pain that may come.

"Newbie whats-"

You turn eyes catching onto Caesar, Johann, Luminous and Finger standing behind you. When did they get here, how much did they hear. It burns and it burns devouring everything in sight. All the memories that you have with them that you've been trying to view in a happy light, all of them crumble to the ground in front of you the moment you see them. "SHUT UP, USE MY NAME FOR ONCE WILL YOU?! NEWBIE DO THIS, FRESHMAN DO THAT, YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN ONCE USED MY NAME!" Full on sobbing you bulldoze through every thought that comes to mind yelling them out at the people surrounding you. "YOU'VE NEVER ONCE ASKED ME IF I WAS OK. YOU;VE NEVER ONCE SENT ANYONE WITH ME WHEN YOU SEND ME ON THOSE STUPID SUICIDE MISSIONS. I'M A FRESHMAN A NEWBIE YOU HAD NO REASON TO TRUST ME WITH ANY OF THIS. WHAT WOU;LD'VE HAPPENED IF I HAD DIED AND STAYED DEAD? WHAT WOULD'VE HAPPENED IF I HAD BEEN CAPTURED? WHAT THEN?" You clutch onto yourself harder, seeking even the smallest bit of comfort from the feeling. Your voice has lowered in volume, you no longer have the emotional or physical strength to do anything other than keep your voice above a whisper. "Do you lot remember when Ruri had specifically said that even two of us couldn't handle Herzog alone? And yet you still thought that it would be a good idea to send me up alone, acting like you were tough for taking care of the death servitors at the entrance." You sigh, there are so many other examples you could go through but you also don't want to be here any longer. "What about you Luminous? I get that you had to watch Erii, but making me do everything and anything you could think of by myself while knowing that Johann and Caesar were constantly sending me on missions as well? You even complained that I took too long to do things. Maybe if you did something for yourself for once instead of just saying that you will then running away and hiding like a coward these things wouldn't happen. Maybe then Erii, Chisei and Chime would still be alive and I wouldn't have to deal with- with this fucking guilt!"

"Look I'm sorry about the Erii thing but listen, we had no idea you were feeling like this. You should've come to us-" Finger is trying to mediate, trying to comfort you, but it only makes things worse.

"And how could I have," You croak out, "How could I have trusted that you would listen, that I would get a break? You never even presented the option for me to have any kind of choice in how I carried out my missions let alone not do them at all. I had nothing I still have nothing. I'm presumed dead at best and no longer exist at worst in terms of my original legal documents. And even if I had access to them I'm still 20 years younger then I'm supposed to be." With a watery chuckle you continue, "Even if I did tell you if I was thrown away I wouldn't have any papers to do anything, to get a job, to live a life, I'm completely reliant on the college for everything. Not to mention the fact that I know nothing about the world. If Cassell had deemed me" You shudder at the word "a failure, then I would've had nothing, not information on the world at current, not even an identity." You shake your head walking in between them and towards the exit. "I don't care I'm not doing this anymore. Find some other freshman to be you dog."

You walked out and onto the streets of Tokyo. You glanced back once lamenting the fact that you hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Zero. You turned away glancing in the direction of the convenience store that Luminous would always make you go to to buy Erii's milk. You trudged down the streets of Tokyo back to that place. Hopefully you can buy paper and a pen to leave her a note with what little money you have.

The bell on the store door jingled when you opened it. The man was standing behind the counter as he always was. You're experience with father figures have been lack luster this far but you've always thought that this man gave off the air of one. It made you relax, seeing someone that while familiar wasn't from the orphanage or Cassell. He looked up at you wearing that same smile that he always did. You knew it wasn't for you specifically but rather something that he probably gave all of his costumers but still it made you feel a bit warm inside.

"Hey kiddo you look a bit rough, everything ok?" You take a few steps forward and nod a bit

"I think it will be now. Or at least I hope so." He hums and nods his head at your answer deciding not to pry, a decision you appreciate.

"So then you here for the usual?" You look back at him and glance around the store, you don't see paper or pens of any sort. It's a bit of a let down but you suppose asking wouldn't hurt.

"Ah no actually," Your voice is still raw, and a bit choked up from all the crying and yelling that you did earlier, you hope you don't sound weird." "Do you sell like, um... paper and pens or something like that? I want to write a note to a friend before I leave."

He scratches at his chin mumbling under his breath as he thinks for a few seconds before getting up and going around the store coming back with a bottle of warm milk in hand. He then returns to his spot behind the counter pulling a note pad and pen out from under it. He places the milk next to the writing utensils and pushes them towards you. "Here, milks on the house, I don't sell paper or anything but feel free to use that and leave the note with me. I'll give it to your friend."

You give him a small smile. It's all that you can manage right now. Your eyes burn with tears again. "Thanks, my friends name is Zero she's blonde has blue eyes and is about," you place your hand were Zero's head is about as accurately as you can, "This tall. She has a flat affect and seems kinda emotionless but she really is a sweet girl. Um, her hairs long and she has a big black bow tying it back." The man nods his head repeating your description back to you. After gaining conformation he sticks his thumb up and takes the letter from you promising to hand it to her the moment she walks through the doors of his shop. You thank him one last time and promise to come back there if you're ever in trouble before leaving.

As you walk through Tokyo's streets aimlessly, you repeat the words in your letter, speaking them into the rain. "I hope that we can meet again in a more peaceful time, preferably away from the bay and Cassell as I don't have the best impression of them. With lots of love, your best friend..." You laugh a bit, your words were supposed to be a parody of what Z said to you. You think its fitting for a farewell letter.

You meld into the raindrops after looking back one last time.

#me when respawn #dragon raja #dragon raja mc #caesar gattuso #johann chu #luminous lu #finger von frings #fanfic #writing #major character death #but they dont stay dead #its just alluded to #angst #hurt no comfort

[smilingperformer]

Discussing the good and bad of Pokémon Journeys: Part “Goh”

Oh boi... this part is gonna be a doozy. Because I have a lot to talk about Goh, or as I tend to call him, Gou.

TLDR; I like Gou as a character but I very, very much have issues with the way he's currently written in the show. And that frustrates me deeply as I'd love to feel more positively about him. More under the cut, with Journeys abverted as JN.

Where do I even begin... Maybe by how I first became a fan of Gou's character, by after some time started to go back to neutral ground.

Like, ever since the very first episode, we've got a very clear picture of what kind of character Gou is: a bookworm, loves Pokémon, loves to show his knowledge and isn't exactly good at making friends. His only friend before Satoshi (and before learning about Tokio/Horace's reasonings for not showing up to their meeting place) was Chloe/Koharu, and we still don't know how the two met. Thou my guess is that their childhood friendship bonded over their parents meeting during some job or by Koharu feeling the need to be Gou's friend. Who knows, it's something I want to learn about. But that's besides the point, cough.

But like, from the very first episode on, it became clear that this show wants to focus on Gou, and telling his journey on becoming a Pokémon Trainer who wants to catch all of the Pokémon in the World, in order to get closer to catching Mew, the mythical Pokémon who's said to contain DNA of all existing Pokémon. He had a very strong introduction arc, with showing his dynamic with Koharu, having him meet Satoshi on top of Lugia, first getting to know Satoshi (and Rockets) and then catching his first partner Pokémon in Hibunny. However, as time went on and episodes started piling up, I started feeling like something about him was... off.

I feel like the first time I had an issue with the writing involving him was in JN006, where he went on his first catching spree. Where he kept catching Pokémon with ease. Small struggle at the start when trying to work together his dynamic with Hibunny, but the rest of the ep felt way too easy. Then again, Gou IS flat out Pokémon GO promotion. No one can deny that. His purpose is to promote GO's capture mechanic. It is the most successful Pokémon Mobile game of all time.

Anyway, the easy captures piled up on and on til JN010 when he finally had to use dozens of pokeballs to catch one. single. Dewgong. I loved this so much. It made me feel more at ease with his goal mechanic and I felt like I'd be fine with him from there on out. And I was. Til I started having new issues with him. All thanks to Satoshi's new goal in PWC finally having been established.

As time went on, it became clearer and clearer, that Gou was more focused on when it came to his goal progression, development in character level, and in what kind of quality his episodes would be.

Everyone knows how much I love JN032. Everyone does. It's one of my absolute fav episodes in the series. However, it also kinda is what first prompted me starting my worry that hasn't gone away since then: That Gou feels more like the protagonist than Satoshi does in this series, and not really an equal dual protag he was advertised to be.

Before the pitchforks are getting aimed at me, hear me out. I know, that based on some statistics, the focus is equal, with sliiiightly more inclinded towards Gou. However, that's where the issue is: Gou has, so far for me, had way better focus and way better episodes in this series, than Satoshi has, while also getting progress on his goal on other character's focus episodes. When Satoshi's episodes have been about PWC and training his Pokémon, Gou's had the kind of episodes that are more character exploring, developing him, evolving him in some way. And it, frustrates me. Because despite my better judgement, it gives me this feeling that Gou is stealing Satoshi's thunder, even when some type of statistics would suggest otherwise. It gives me this feeling that Gou is here to write Satoshi out. I do not like that I feel this way, I don't know how to get rid of this feeling and I hate it here.

Again, I like Gou's character, he's sweet, well developed, and I do enjoy seeing him in his own episodes. But I have come to noticed, than whenever he gets goal progression in an episode that's supposed to focus on Koharu or Satoshi, I feel so.... angry? And I've never, ever felt like this while watching other characters progress. And I know it's irrational.

Like, his main partner's already fully evolved, his secondary partner Sobble is already evolving soon despite only having one focus episode for itself before it, and he's caught all three of the Galar starters now, with some of his other not-that-important Pokémon making appearances every now and then with possible evolution showcases. And it's all done so fast. Same issue was with Satoshi's poketeam evolving in fast arcs, but I forgot to mention about it? But then again, I am somewhat fine with it as I get the writing style is to focus on one 'mon and then move on to another. Which is not to my taste completely but I digress. ANYWAY, back to Gou.

After seeing discussions and joining in on some on tumblr and twitter and elsewhere, it does appear that Gou's development speed and progression speed is incredibly fast. Like, seriously fast. He's caught a lot of Pokémon by now, and the show's already shown about 50% percent of all existing Pokémon in a bit over a year. About 30% being caught by Gou. (Statistics borrowed from EntityMays' Living Dex trackers, links in posts will disrupt showing in tag search so, google EntityMays's Living Dex, and you'll find the statistics there).

This is also very apparent when you think about how fast Gou suddenly became a good battler, when at the beginning he sucked. A lot. I get Satoshi could be a great example on learning how to battle with good strategy in mind, but we barely saw Gou struggle. We Satoshi struggle in OS, so I would have prefered more struggling by Gou. His first battle against a legendary ended up in Zapdos almost getting caught and uuuuuggh, while it's a pretty good episode it really should have been at later point, same with Suicune episode. Thou with the latter I have WAY more issues than just the placement but, I'm not gonna rant about that today.

And what should I say about his dynamics with other characters... They're good, I am a huge fan of how the dynamic between Koharu and Gou works, as their childhood friend dynamic is shown so, so well, and you can just tell the two have mutual respect as Gou gives Koharu the space she needed when she wasn't into Pokémon for a while, and when she then became partners with Eevee, Gou was so so SO darn supportive just, AGH. Love how these two work.

And everyone knows I fell for Gou x Tokio dynamic straight away. Like they had a friendship built up right away when they first met as little kids and Tokio missing out on their promised meeting due to being sick and not having any means of contacting him yes still considered Gou his friend after these years when Gou considered him a traitor of trust and Gou then forgives him for it and just aaaaaahhh-. KRHM. Excuse me.

Then there's Gou and Satoshi's dynamic and I already said in my post about Satoshi how I feel intimidated by the fans of their shipping and how it makes me feel.... kinda sad about not being able to like their dynamic for what it is. I LOVE it a ton. I have said it a countless times, they're a broTP to me. They're dynamic was very enjoyable for me to watch, and even Gou was. But like, on TOP of these issues I mentioned before this part, I also have another issue with Gou: his fanbase, or the crazier part of it.

Often times I feel like I'm unable to enjoy Gou's character without being reminded of the fans who constantly think of him as shipping fuel, or think he's flawless and anyone disagreering is in some form a negative trait filled human being, etc etc etc. In a way, I feel like I'd enjoy Gou and his dynamic with Satoshi way, way more, if I had never learned about this side of the fandom. Let people like their dynamic the way they want. Be it romantic or platonic. Neither is wrong, but pushing one side to push their own headcanon to other people's head is just, bad act. Having this feeling in me has actually made me wonder, whether I would have liked other characters I am such a huge fan of, if I had been watching their shows during their airing times (for example Serena).

Now what would I have done differently with Gou? Firstly, slow the fuck down. I would have prefered to see Hibunny way more. I would have prefered to have one Galar Starter, namely Grookey, go to Satoshi, as it would help me feel less like Gou's stealing his thunder. I would have prefered if Gou and Satoshi's goals were established around same time. I would have very much liked it, if Gou wouldn't be catching Pokémon each episode.

Now what COULD help me like him better from what we have by now? Well. Slow it down. Have him interact with Koharu more. Give him a rival to further make him shine on his own instead of seemingly relying on Satoshi to shine through. Hell, maybe make Tokio his friendly rival. And on top of that, please let him not catch Pokémon almost every single episode. I'd love an episode where he captures some Pokémon that prefers to be free, and he then would let it go. I think that would make his character be good on his own, and make me feel better about him once again.

Cough. I think I've got my point clear. As said, I like Gou, but very much dislike the way he's written in such fast pacing and in a way that, despite statistics stating otherwise, making him feel like he's the sole protag and not sharing spotlight as dual protag. And I hope to god I can get rid of this feeling as the series goes on. Because right now, I don't have high hopes :(

If you've read this far, thank you for reading, and I am so, so sorry this became a long long rant about the issues I have with Gou, but I hope I managed to bring out what I like about him as well. Hopefully next time's gonna be a more positive post, as I'll try writing about my full on feelings about the handling of Koharu, or as dub audience knows her, Chloe.

Once again, thanks for reading, have a good evening or morning or whatever time it is by the time you've read this, and I hope you'll have a fantastic time ♥ And as a reminder, these are just my opinions, and if you disagree, you are totally valid.

Til next time! This was Smiling Performer aka Aleira, signing out!

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokemon jn #pokemon journeys #discussions #goh #gou #character discussions

[imsolovelylovely]

Red - Felix 🌺

Warnings 🌹 : dom!reader, sub!Felix, female reader, choking, cock-stepping?, footjob?, degradation, slight praise, couch sex, riding, this is pretty long 🤷‍♀️

Words: 2.8K

Tumblr deleted the last part so I had to rewrite and it’s not as good :( feedback is appreciated! ;)

The day started with your boyfriend, Felix, and you chilling on the couch watching random movies. Well, more like you two talking and cuddling while the movie played in the background. You two laugh and tell each other about your week and how you were doing. It’s always a fun time with Felix and his adorable self.

He looks especially cute today with his messy hair and puffy cheeks, his freckles splashed on them like little stars. The sunlight from the window made his beautiful skin glow and his eyes sparkled. His giggles and jokes had you smiling like a maniac. You bring your dominant hand up to squish his cheek and move the stand of hair covering his face behind his ear. Slowly dropping down to his exposed neck and staying there for a while. Your fingers caress his neck and thoughts flood your mind.

Something about his neck has been making your eyes trail towards them the past few days. Maybe it was because of that video you watched of a boy being choked and begging for more.

Whenever you cuddle, his neck would be right in front of you. Just an inch away and you could bite it, make red marks all over him. Hear the pretty sounds he would make. You could glide your hand up and give his neck a soft squeeze. Feel the way he would gulp and shiver under your hands and gaze. Would he ask for more?

“Um, Y-Y/N?”

You’re put out of your trance when you hear Felix clear his throat. He had stopped speaking, his face a bit red and a sheepish smile on his face. Your eyes widen, finally realizing you were staring and your hand has been holding his neck for a whole. Feeling embarrassed at your thoughts you quickly try to retract your hand. Felix’s eyes trail down to your nails and before you hide your hands, he takes a hold of it.

“Your nail polish is coming off,” he says casually with a pout. Like you hadn’t just stared at his neck for maybe minutes. Not weird at all.

“I know. I’ll repaint it when I have time later on,” you look at your nails that have blue nail polish on some parts and other parts had already come off. Your nails had gotten long as well.

You try to put your hand down but Felix doesn’t let go. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused at his actions. He looks at you, holding your hand with both of his.

“Can I paint them?” He asks with an eager tone. You don’t know why he would want to but you weren’t reluctant. “Sure.”

With a huge grin, he gets off the couch and runs towards the bedroom where you kept all your make-up and nail polish. You’re very curious at his eagerness.

You sigh, thinking about how to bring up the subject to Felix. You don’t know if he’d be willing to try. You’ve had sex before but you never established who’s dominant or submissive, though Felix preferred to be taken care of. You don’t know if he’d be into choking and being a little rough. Hearing footsteps coming back into the room, you straighten up and clear your head.

Felix is back with red nail polish and remover. You move over to let him sit down next to you but he doesn’t, deciding to sit on the floor instead. On his knees and looking up to you with his big eyes. You pause to just stare at him, the position he is in giving you dirty thoughts. Again. You shake your head, getting rid of them.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks with a head tilt. He reaches out to you to take your hands in his.

“It’s nothing,” you lie.

Your sitting position is very uncomfortable so you lay on your side, legs stretched out and one head supporting you head while Felix works on one hand.

His left hand wraps around your right one and he starts by removing your old nail polish. You just stare down at him. He’s sitting like an anime girl, his thighs squished together, and humming a soft tune. You notice his hair has gotten a bit longer as well.

You begin to wonder how it would feel to run your fingers through it and give it a tug. How would he react?

And you get lost in your thoughts again because Felix has to bring you back again. While you’re daydreaming, he had finished painting your nails and he’s looking at you for approval.

“Did I do it well?”

Felix has both your hands in his which makes you sit up on the couch, towaring over him. He has his neck bent in order to look at you, his neck and chest on display for you. Your hands are right there in front of his neck. And the dark red nail polish contrasts so much with his skin. You move your hands towards his neck slowly, testing if he would stop you once you place them there.

He doesn’t.

His hands are on your wrists but he makes no effort to stop you as you wrap your hands gently on his neck. You can feel him taking a deep breath and gulping.

“I’m guessing I did extremely well,” Felix chirps in a teasing voice. Which makes you look up from his neck. His mouth has formed into a smile and his eyes, a gleam of mischief.

Confused and afraid he’s noticed, you begin to pull your hands away from his neck only to be stopped by him again, keeping your hands on his neck.

“Did you-?”

“Know?” He finishes your sentence. Slowly, he moves towards you more so that he is situated in between your thighs, your hands still on his neck putting more pressure on it. “I did.”

“How and when?” You demanded.

He smirks. Which is ironic considering the position he’s in.

“Come on, baby. It’s pretty obvious with the way you’ve been staring at my neck at any chance you get these couple of days. Why do you think I made sure to wear low cut shirts and chokers for?”

Honestly, you are shocked to say the least. You wouldn’t think for Felix to do such a thing on purpose. Just to tease you when you’re already dying? That made you a bit angry but also relieved that you don’t have to verbally tell him that you wanted to choke and bite him. Save you some embarrassment.

You give his neck another squeeze, a bit harder this time making him gasp from surprise.

“So,” you start getting Felix’s undivided attention. “My baby boy has been teasing me this whole time?”

Felix nods slowly, all his earlier cockiness gone out the window. “M’sorry. I love your eyes on me. Wanted more of your attention. I love when your hand lingers on my neck.”

“Yeah? Like this?”

He lets out a soft moan when you squeeze his neck just a bit more. With you nails digging in slightly.

“Y-yeah. Love when you look at me, touch me, and c-control me.”

Felix blushes at his own words and closes his eyes in embarrassment.

“Didn’t think you were so dirty, Lixie. Acting all innocent when you’re just a little slut.”

Felix’s breath hitches at your words and you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that. Until you notice him squirming and you feel him lightly rutting against your leg. You let out a laugh in disbelief, putting a bit more pressure on the sides of his neck.

“Babe, you really are a desperate slut. Rutting against my leg like that. I guess that’s enough for you, right? Wanna make a mess in your pants?”

He whines. “W-want your touch please~”

You hum, acknowledging him but not moving anywhere to give him what he wants. Only your left hand slides over to the back of his head, a yelp escaping Felix when you give it a harsh tug. He continues to move against your leg, his hands gripping at your thighs. He pants and moans at the friction and just gets lost at the feeling of your hand on his neck, slowly scratching along it, down to his chest and giving a pinch to his nipple over his shirt.

“Nghh!”

Felix yelps when you push him back, his hands flying out to hold him up. His thighs instinctively try to close when you press your foot on his clothed cock.

“Spread your legs,” you demand, putting pressure on him and moving your foot.

He does as he’s told and whimpers when you move your foot faster.

The friction on his dick overwhelms him and the way you look at him makes him feel so small. Using your leg to get off makes Felix feel dirty and he’s loving every part of it. The amount of times he’s fantasized about you choking and degrading him. And now it’s actually happening and he feels dizzy from the pleasure. His hands that are holding him up, shake under him. His back arches when you toy with just the head of his sensitive cock.

“A-ah! Pl-please, please, - agh- m’gonna c-cum. Wanna feel you~ please,” he says, his sentence cut off by his sweet moans.

Though he says that, he doesn’t stop you. His head droops to the side and his eyes are lidded, looking at you, then closing them when he sees your intense stare. The smirk on your lips that told him who’s in control.

He moves his hips desperately chasing his orgasm. And the cry he lets out when you step on his cock to stop him from moving. He sounds so desperate and broken. He’s become putty in your hands and you’re loving every second of it.

He tries to move again but you press your foot down even more.

“Mgh. Whyyyy? I w-was so close,” he pouts, glaring at you but he doesn’t look intimidating at all.

“Oh? I thought you wanted to feel me, Lixie. Did my dumb little slut forget already?”

You move your foot harder a few times, laughing at Felix’s reaction.

“Ah ah ah! Sensitive! P-please!”

His thighs shake where they stay open and spread for you. His shame long gone and pleasure clouding his mind.

“S-sorry. Felt so g-good. Wanna fuck you, p-please?”

Felix’s eyes are big awaiting for your answer. Still looking so innocent despite the words he’s speaking and what he’s doing now.

“Dirty mouth you have, Lixie. Let’s see if we can do something about it, hmm? Get up, baby.”

He’s obedient. Gets up as he’s told, though he does have trouble because his legs are a bit shaky.

“Aww. I haven’t even touched your cute cock properly and you’re already shaken up?”

Felix’s cheeks become impossibly redder, getting even more turned on by the humiliation.

“Strip and come over here,” you command, laying down on the couch.

You watch as he nods and begins to take off his shirt and then his pants. You stare at his beautiful body waiting for him to fully show himself.

“My baby’s always so pretty, huh? Come on, take off your boxers. Don’t be shy now,” you encourage.

Felix takes off his boxers, albeit shyly, his dick slapping his abdomen, making a wet noise. You giggle at that while he whines in embarrassment.

“Why don’t you help me with my clothes now?”

You had already taken off your shirt and pants and were only in your underwear and bra just to tease him.

He comes over to you, getting on the couch, on top of you. You spread your legs so he could sit down in between them. His breath is shaky as he takes off your bra and his hands trail down to take off your panties.

“See how much you turn me on, Lixie?”

“Mhm. I love that, too. Love to make you feel good, Y/N.”

Without another word, you grab onto Felix’s hair and pull him to you, smashing your lips on his. He stumbles from the force, his body pressing on yours. He moans at the wet feeling of your pussy against his dick, the sound muffled by your mouth. He kisses you desperately, mouth opening eagerly for your tongue. You lick over his lips and bite down lightly, before letting him go.

“Get up, babe.”

Felix is breathless, panting and confused at your command. He whimpers thinking that you’re gonna deny him. Though he follows your orders and gets up.

You get off the couch and push him down on his back.

“It’s easier to choke you this way, Lix,” you smirk, throwing your leg over his hip and straddling him. You start to grind on him.

“Please~ F-fuck me. Choke me. A-anything. Just p-please,” Felix begs. His hands have found yours and he tugs at them, bringing them to his neck.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll reward you, cutie,” you say, taking a hold of his cock with one hand and slowly slipping it inside you.

You both moan at the sensation when he’s fully inside. You stay still for a few seconds so you can get used to it. Felix squirms and tries to buck up into you.

“P-please move.” He begs. “Ah~”

“Impatient brat.”

With that, you raise yourself and slam back on to him. The quick pace pulling out delicious moans from the boy underneath you. His back arches at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. He holds your hands again.

“Choke me- nghh- please ch-choke me!” He stutters out.

“Of course. My little slut loves being choked doesn’t he?”

“Mhm! Ah! Th-thank you, thank y-you!” he gasps at the feeling of your fingers pressing at the sides of his neck.

His noises get even louder and high pitched with the feeling of being inside you and your hands wrapped around his beautiful neck. You wouldn’t be surprised if you got weird looks from your neighbors tomorrow.

Felix loves the lightheadedness and the pleasure from your walls squeezing his dick. He’s riled up so much and probably won’t last long.

He looks so lost in his pleasure. He’s babbling about how good it feels, incoherently. His head is thrown back with his mouth hung open, a dribble of drool leaking down the side of his mouth.

“Filthy boy,” you remark.

His noises spur you on to go faster and Felix lets a particularly loud moan when you squeeze around him.

“You look so pretty with my hands on your neck, Lixie.”

“Mmm. T-thank you,” he mumbles. His toes curl at the compliment pushing him more into his headspace.

“S-shit. Make more of those cute noises for me,” you’re breathless and close, too.

You use one of your hands to hold Felix’s waist and get a steady rhythm. With you other hand, you make light scratches on his neck, red lines awaking under the nails.

Leaning down, you sucked on the side of his neck and made marks down to his chest and sucked a nipple into your mouth. Felix was going crazy with all the stimulation all over his body.

“Nghh! Gonna c-cum. Need t-to cum! P-please! C-can I cum?”

“Go ahead, baby,” you say. He doesn’t hear you because he continues to beg and pout.

“I said, s-said p-please?! C-cum! C-cum need! P-pleathe!”

You lean down to give him permission. Felix’s body shivers even more at your hot breath near his ears. Your words that come next make his eyes roll back and finally spill into you with a loud moan.

“Can’t even say a sentence properly? My cute, pathetic slut. Cum for mommy, slut.”

His cum fills you up but doesn’t get you to cum. You slow down to let him ride his orgasm but don’t stop. His moans start to pick up again when you speed up to reach your own orgasm.

“Ah! A-ah! Sen-sensitive!”

“Just a bit more, baby. Be a good boy for me, yeah?”

Despite the overstimulation, Felix nods wanting to be your good boy. He tears up from the sensitivity and his moans get loader.

You let go of his neck to touch your clit, the two stimulations finally making you reach the edge. Felix whimpers because of you squeezing around his dick. And you finally stop.

There’s only heavy breathing in the room as you plop down on Felix. Both of you are fucking tired and sleepy.

“Didn’t know you’d be into that, Lix,” you tease.

He whines. “You’re one to talk. ‘Mommy?’ I think you unlocked a kink within me.”

You giggle at his cuteness.

And silence. A comfortable one.

You raise yourself up with your arms to look down directly at Felix. His little tears have dried up and his hair is all over the place. There’s a soft smile on his lips and his eyes are filled with love looking up at you.

“Thanks for indulging in my fantasies, Lixie,” you say.

He winks. “My pleasure, Y/N. Literally.”

You shake your head and chuckle. “Let’s get cleaned up, love.”

#dom!reader #i love him #stray kids #dom reader #sub idol #sub!idol #sub!kpop #felix #felix skz #skz smut #skz #skz fanfic #skz felix #felix smut #sub!felix #felix fanfic #sub!skz #stray kids smut #sub kpop

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I am not going to join your band” Part 2

aka “I don’t know if I can join your band”

Part 2 is here with Mitch being a good best friend and slightly over protective + Harry jamming with you ;) 

Word Count: 4.8k | Warnings: crying, makeouts, swearing - otherwise its pure HS1 album FLUFF

agh my Tumblr is being so complicated - I was finally about to post this and then the page quit on me and deleted the draft but we are here again so hopeful it works!!  PLEASE give me feedback - I love to know what y’all think and let me know if anyone wants a part 3!

Part 1!

--

Later in the Day

It was nearing the end of the official workday, the day when you had played for the entire crew that was working on Harry’s album. The stress of the day and the work you had done with Harry and Mitch on the song had made you more tired than you had ever been after any previous day in the studio.

“Y/N, would you mind staying late tonight? I want to keep working on the song from earlier and I want your input since it’s your tune after all.” 

You sat on an empty couch and looked up at Harry. “But Mitch is my ride?” you asked. “Oh...I mean I already assumed he was staying, but I can go check with him?” Harry gave a quick wink and then turned on his heel, quickly disappearing from your sight.

Of course, right then, Mitch walked through the opposite door, looking down at his phone. He glanced up and saw you, then he slowly switched his course to sit beside you. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the sweater he wore today was soft with black and dark purple stripes. You had given it to him for Christmas this past year. He usually only wore it for special occasions so you had been a bit surprised to see it on him today.

“You look tired,” Mitch said as he reached around to your shoulder and gave you a light pet.

“Harry wants us to stay and work on the piece I played earlier,” was all you responded, ignoring his previous statement. 

Mitch stiffened up, slightly, and rustled his body, making you lift your head from his shoulder and look at him inquisitively. “I can’t stay late tonight,” was all he said, his face unreadable and his eyes not willing to meet yours.

“Mitch, what’s up?” your eyes filled with concern, “Are you feeling alright? Do you think you’ve caught a cold?”

Mitch’s eyes flashed around the room, making sure the two of you wouldn’t be overheard. Then he turned to you, moving one leg to rest underneath him, the other hanging off the couch. 

He whispered, “I’m going on a date with Sarah tonight.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say.

You still loved Mitch and he had found Sarah. Admittedly, they were perfect together, and you had never seen him smile so much with anyone else besides you - and Harry, now.

And you knew, you knew the way he looked at Sarah was never the way he looked at you. Maybe you had never had anything to compare it with before or maybe all this time you had been deluding yourself, but Mitch never looked passionately at you, with the fire of admirance and love in his eyes - it seemed to be reserved only for Sarah.

Sarah was wonderful, you and her got along well, and she put up with Mitch’s idiosyncrasies. If anyone was taking Mitch away from you, you guessed you had to be lucky it was Sarah. Still, you couldn’t help the lump in your throat that you had when Mitch told you his news.

“Well,” you looked away from Mitch’s gleaming eyes, “I’ll just ask Harry if he can give me a lift home when we’re done here. Enjoy your date, Mitch. You deserve to be happy.”

Mitch noticed the look on your face and he felt horrible. You were his best friend so he had wanted to tell you about how excited he was for this. It had been so hard for him to finally ask Sarah out rather than just hanging out with her in a group. He only had been able to do it with the help of Harry, who had kept encouraging him to go for it everyday. But Mitch knew how you felt about him. He liked to pretend he didn’t notice, he liked to think everything you did for him was just best friend stuff, but at the end of the day he knew it wasn’t. The look on your face just now confirmed that.

He wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’ but he wasn’t sure that would actually help the situation.

So he said, “Thanks, Y/N…” and you thought that was it, but then he continued, “You know what, you deserve to be happy, too. I know Harry’s been asking you to join the band and I know you’ve been saying no, but maybe, reconsider. This is our chance to do something with our lives, bigger than we ever could have hoped. C’mon, we say we’re happy living these boring, quiet lives, but I’ve known you your whole life. I’ve been with you when you were in high school, laying on the roof of my car, looking up at the stars, saying, ‘Ya’wanna’know my wildest dream, Mitch? My wildest dream is to get the fuck outta here and make a name for myself. Be somebody. Not be some forgotten name in this town’s tiny cemetery with a headstone that reads: ‘She lived a happy, boring, uneventful life here and now she’s fucking dead’.”

Silence.

Mitch wasn’t one to go on a tangent, more of a wise word interjected here and there man. Random thoughts sometimes, but a paragraph worth of words, almost never.

“That was a little hyperbolic of me,” was your only response.

Mitch looked at you, obviously not satisfied at your response. You sighed. “I’ll think about it,” you resigned.

Mitch said, “Good,” and ruffled the hair on top of your head before exiting the room.

You sat back and ran your hands over your face, it was hot in the room, the air feeling like you were swimming and couldn’t get to the surface. You let out a loud huff and closed your eyes.

“Mitch not staying?” Your eyes flashed open.

Harry stood just inside the doorway of the room. “I’m assuming you found him first and he told you he couldn’t stay.”

“How do you figure that?”

You sat up and looked at Harry, his arms were crossed over his chest, pushing his biceps up, making them look more prominent. He then moved quickly to sit in the wheely chair across from the couch. He sat in it and swiveled around, scooting closer to you and looking directly in your eyes.

“From the look on your face, you seem upset. And when I went to look for him, I couldn’t find him and then got held up on my way back to you. So, he must’ve found you first.”

You sighed again. You really didn’t think talking about it would make you feel better, but Harry obviously could tell there was something wrong and he wasn’t the kind of guy to just ignore it.

“Yeah,” you balked at the eye contact Harry was trying to maintain and looked at your pair of feet between the two of you.

Harry was wearing some black old skool vans, you were wearing checkered ones that looked a bit more worn in. “You have big feet,” you continued, trying to change the course of discussion, you suspected where it was going.

“Y/N,” Harry rested a hand on your knee, pleading for you to be serious, and you flashed your eyes back to his face.

“You’re in love with him, yeah?”

Harry’s tone was serious, but he asked it softly, scared that you might take offense to the intrusive question. The question echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls repeating itself. Then tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t stop them and finally you couldn’t stop from blinking either.

The tears slid down your face, “I-I, uh, know he’s falling for Sarah.” You sniffled, but continued, “And I’m happy for him, I really am, all I’ve ever wanted for him is to be happy. He’s...my best friend, but I had always hoped that he’d want to be happy with me…”

You couldn’t stand this rush of emotion and the fact that you were now sobbing in front of Harry. You sank onto the back of the couch, leaning forward and covering your face again.

Harry looked on as you fell apart in front of him. It pained him to see you like this. He had liked getting to know your infectious spirit over the past weeks. It was quiet, but it was there below the surface, just asking to be let out.

He reached out and took your hands from your face. You looked up, eyes puffy and red already, as he cradled your face in one hand and held yours in the other.

“Hey, shhh, Darling, don’t cry please,” he whispered.  His thumb ran over your cheek, swiping quickly away at the tears leaving your eyes.

You tried to stop, but you couldn’t.

“Oh, Darling, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Harry muttered after a few more minutes passed of your weeping and his attempts at trying to comfort you.

“‘S not your fault, really,” you choked out, still trying to take deep breaths and get yourself under control.

After one more deep breath, you felt the tears stopping their flow, and your watery eyes looking into Harry’s intense stare.

“I was ready to cry the minute Mitch told me he was going on a date with Sarah tonight. I was trying to calm myself down when you came in. You probably could’ve said ‘want some dinner?’ and I would’ve started sobbing about how Mitch’s favorite meal is dinner.” You weakly laughed and Harry’s lips quirked up slightly, still feeling terrible for you.

He ran a hand softly over your hair, “Do ya’ want some? Some dinner?” voice still staying low, yet taking on a lighter tone.

His voice helped soothe you out of your sadness. It was melodic even when he spoke, his accent could make anything sound good.

He starts to go on about how there’s probably some food left that would be good, but you cut him off, “Harry, I’m not really hungry.”

“Oh...well,” he sat silent for a  moment, “What always helps me when I’m sad is pouring those emotions into my work. Write some of my favorite stuff like that.”

You began to smile for the first time, almost all day, “I’d like that.” Your voice cracked a bit, your throat was definitely sore from the sobs that you kept emitting while you had cried over Mitch.

“Alright, let’s get in there, then,” Harry jerked his head to the studio behind him and fixed his grasp in your hand. He pulled you to your feet and into the next room.

The two of you set to work, you on the piano and him on the guitar. You talked about the chord progressions and how it sounded, but otherwise you didn’t speak much.

You appreciated Harry for sticking with you in your rough time, for being there for you.

“Wait, play that again..” Harry heard you had tweaked the sound of the melody. You played it on the piano - “I like that, do you think you can play it on the guitar?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you rose from the piano stool and took the guitar from Harry. You shut your eyes and tried to picture the chords in your mind, you had never been as good at guitar. Mitch had taught you a little bit and you’d strummed a bit more these past few weeks, but it was definitely a challenge for you.

You opened your eyes after a minute and placed your fingers on the first chord and jumped into the progression.

“Keep playing that,” Harry said. Then, he began to sing, “Sweet Creature…” he looked straight at you.

You didn’t notice as you focused on keeping the progression the same and keeping the tempo Harry had liked from earlier.

“Had another talk about where it’s going wrong,” at these words you looked up from the guitar. Your playing cut off and your eyes met Harry’s.

He licked his lips and looked expectantly at you. “That was amazing, Harry!”

His brows knit together, he thought you had gotten upset from the words. He thought it was so obvious he was singing about you, but you simply complimented his art, oblivious to him drawing from you and Mitch and himself.

“Yeah, that was pretty good, I’ll write it down, but do you want to work on something else for now, don’t want to overwork this one. I’ll probably figure out the rest of lyrics on my own.” Harry said quickly, wanting to move forward, slightly embarrassed.

You nodded, but you were confused that Harry wanted to move one when you were making so much progress.

-

“We should probably get going,” Harry said after checking his phone for the time.

You knew it was late, but it hadn’t bothered you. Staying late, working on songs with just Harry, it had helped to take your mind off of Mitch and Sarah. This was the beginning of a new chapter for you. One where you weren’t going to pine over Mitch.

You nodded and began to gather your things scattered around the studio.

Harry and you had eventually ended up laying on the floor, heads towards each other, staring at the ceiling. The first few hours had been productive, honestly, you’d worked through some kinks in various songs in progress. But after hour three, the exhaustion was getting to both of you and the creative juices had run out.

You laid there, together, Harry strumming his guitar idly as you talked about nothing in particular, that is, until Harry saw the time.

-

“So…” you started after you had settled into Harry’s car.

Harry glanced at you, ready to drive off, but wanting to know what you had to say first.

“I’ve been thinking about your offer for me, for me to play keys on tour.” You expected Harry to say something, but he looked at you waiting for you to continue.

“I,” you stopped, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily, “It would be a great opportunity, I just don’t know yet- I don’t know if I can join your band.” You looked down at your hands, you felt silly, still not giving Harry a real answer, when he continued to ask you to join.

“Nothing has to be decided right now...it’s better than ‘I’m not going to join your band’ - it’s not a ‘no’ - and I can work with that.”

You laughed, slightly relieved at his response, and rested your head on your palm, your arm situated on the car door windowsill, a sparkle appearing in your eyes as you looked over at Harry.

After this, he drove you to your apartment, and you sat listening to the soothing songs of Harry’s playlist emit from the speakers. You spoke only when Harry needed directions back to your home.

“‘Ere we are,” Harry said as you pulled up to the front of your apartment. You noticed his voice got deeper and slower the later it got in the day.

You didn’t know how to get out and leave.

Like you did, of course, but usually when Mitch gave you a ride home you would give him a hug, but this wasn’t Mitch, it was Harry. You felt weird not doing anything to say a meaningful goodbye, especially after what Harry had done for you tonight - distracting you from your sadness and channeling it elsewhere.

Maybe Harry noticed your fidgeting because he grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Hope ya’ have a nice night, yeah?” Then he gave you one of his smiles that could make world peace possible.

“Thank you...for everything, really means a lot,” you gave his much larger hand a squeeze back.

“Ouch! Trynna kill me?” Harry yanked your clasped hands up as if he’d just been burned. He teased you and you both burst into a hearty laugh despite your sleepiness.

“Goodnight, Harry!” You sang as you pulled away from his grasp and exited the car. You gave him a little twirl and dance once you were out of the car. He then watched you practically dance into your apartment building, only driving off once you were safely inside.

If there was one thing you had learned over the past month, it was that you could trust Harry and he’d be there for you. It was nice to know you had someone you could rely on beside Mitch.

One week later

You rolled your eyes at Harry, “Oh my god,” dragging out the words. He was teasing you in the studio, chasing after you in order to pick you up and swing you around.

He had been being silly all day, constantly calling you in between takes, running around, making jokes. He was in a good mood today. You didn’t know why.

After last week's breath through with what Harry called Sweet Creature, the album work had gotten a lot easier. Things flowed much quicker and everyone’s moods were brightened by it. But, you didn’t think it constituted the way Harry was being today.

-

Lunchtime rolled around in the middle of a meeting in the soundboard room, you noticed instantly that Harry’s mood had changed.

He was hunched over the tech, fiddling with various buttons - even after the technicians insisted he let them deal with it, he couldn’t be stopped. “Just need to…” he mumbled to himself and then trailed off.

You all sat there in slight confusion because you had thought he had called everyone into the room for some specific reason. However, after a few moments of his inattention to everyone, you realized he had forgotten he had called the meeting.

“Hey, Harry, it’s lunchtime,” Adam said after people had to become restless with inaction.

“Oh? We can talk about the song later then, I guess,” Harry said, barely moving his attention away from his work.

People filed out, but you stayed put, only moving to Harry’s side when the room had emptied.

“What’re you doing?” He didn’t even bother with a response or a glance thrown your way. “You were so happy earlier, what happened?”

“Just want it to be perfect…” Harry finally spoke up, his voice coming out muffled but he still wasn’t paying attention to you.

He waved you off when you tried to get him to explain more, but eventually you grew annoyed. You puffed out an angry sigh and stalked out of the room with a gruff “Fine.”

Harry never joined you for lunch and your annoyance changed back to concern. Not only were you technically third-wheeling with Mitch and Sarah, but you knew Harry skipping lunch was a sign of him overworking himself. You excused yourself from the new couple and went to search for Harry, it was an hour into lunch now.

You finally found him in a back room, it mainly stored broken instruments and other random crap someone had forgotten to get rid of or fix.

“Harry,” you breathed out, thankful to find him.

He looked up from where he sat on the ground. You now noticed he wasn’t just sitting there. He had been crying, his eyes how yours had been just a week ago, bloodshot and filled with pain.

“What if it’s not good enough? What if...what if I’m not good enough?”

You rushed to Harry at the sound of his voice cracking. His voice filled with confusion, anxiety, and pain. His self-doubt pulled at your heartstrings. How could someone so wonderful not see that they were so talented and loved.

“Hey now,” you crouched down next to him and pulled him into your chest.

“Do not ever. And I mean ever,” you pushed his head back to force him to meet your eyes, “let anyone - including yourself- tell you you’re not good enough, Harry Styles. Because you are more than enough and this album, it’s gonna be amazing and people are going to love it. I just know it.”

You sat with him while his tears rolled down his beautiful face. Just one week ago, he had been there when you were at a low moment and now you were there for him.

“How’d you know to come find me?” Harry asked after a few minutes of shaky deep breaths attempting to calm himself back down.

You rubbed your hand across his broad back in circular motions. “Didn’t. But it’s an hour into lunch and if you’re late it’s never more than thirty minutes and if you plan to eat in the studio and work, you grab it first thing and go back. I noticed you were off in your head in the soundboard room earlier, so I thought I’d check around for you,” you said like it was the most logical thing in the world to know Harry’s exact habits.

Then you added, “I was concerned about you.”

Harry raised his head and you brushed his hair from his face once more. His green eyes appeared a darker shade in this moment, the room was dimly lit and his tears had tired him out. You liked touching his hair, it was soft and lush, your fingers combing easily through the locks.

You returned his stare and his eyes seemed to search yours. “I’m very thankful you’re in my life, Y/N,” was all he said after the silent stare.

“I’m very thankful for you, too,” you started sincerely, and then decided to poke some fun at him, attempting to lighten the heavy feeling in the room, “Even if you pester me constantly and are always incessantly talking my ear off…”

Harry’s face twisted into a smug smirk and threw his arms around you, “Oh, is that how you want to play it?”

He pulled you to him in a hug and then yanked the two of you back with a weird thrash of his body, you couldn’t contain the squeal that left your mouth. His movements caused you two to end up laying on the ground with Harry on his back and you right on top of him.

“Look at what you’ve done,” you said, mock exasperated, your faces extremely close together as you laid against one another.

As much as you didn’t like being yanked around, you were happy that Harry was moving past his self-doubt and feeling like his usual happy self.

“Looks great from where I’m at,” he stated proudly, his smirk now a wide grin, “How ‘bout you? How’s your view?” Harry’s words set your heartbeat racing.

Your noses could have touched if you let your neck relax a few millimeters. And his hands were around your waist holding you tightly, while yours were on his chest. You didn’t realize how warm he was until this moment. Had he always been this warm? Or was it the crying? Or the small room? Your mind raced alongside your heartbeat. Everything inside you was practically burning from your current position.

“It’s quite lovely,” you admitted. Your neck was starting to hurt from holding it up at this odd angle, so you decided to relax it. Now your nose was touching Harry’s. His skin brushing soft up against yours. You didn’t miss when Harry’s breath hitched at the contact. His arms encircled your body more and gripped you more tightly. Then you felt him begin to sit up and your legs fell around his body.

When you were fully upright, you were straddling him, your bodies closer than you thought possible in this position. Your chest was so tight to his you could feel your breasts aching from the pressure. It was silent, just Harry’s and your breathing filling the space. The air was thick to breathe. This tension you didn’t realize existed between you and Harry had become unmistakably clear in the past few minutes. Friends do not do whatever was going on right here, but you were okay with that. Harry’s nose matched up with yours again in this shifted position, his eyes trained on yours.

You parted your lips, wanted to say something to break the tension, but the movement caused Harry’s gaze to flicker down to your pink lips. They looked so sweet to him and you knew the look he gave you when he renewed eye contact. You fluttered your eyelids closed and one of Harry’s hands slipped up to brush at your cheek and tilt your head. Then, his lips fell onto yours.

They were soft, yet tasted a bit salty from stray tears around his mouth. You smiled, pressing back into his mouth eager to feel more warmth in your contact with him. He slipped his tongue into your open mouth, licking into you softly. Your body pressed down onto him and he shuddered from the movement. One hand traveled down to your hip to grip you in place as your kissing continued.

“Eager little girl, hmm?” Harry teasingly said, pulling away after the second time you practically rolled your hips over his during your makeout session.

You took one of your hands that was gripping the base of his neck and patted him lightly on the cheek, “Hey!” you giggled at his feigned look of shock.

You started to tell him to watch his mouth, but then the door opened, and Mitch’s figure appeared. He took in the sight in front of him. His childhood best friend straddling his new best friend on the ground of a glorified trash can of a room.

He shook his head and raised his brows at you both. “Lunch is over, neither of you were answering your phones. Should have known I would walk in on something like this.” Your jaw was dropped in disbelief. “I’ll leave you two to, um, finish up,” Mitch closed the door and walked away.

“We can talk about this later,” you said quickly and swung one leg from around Harry, fumbling to make yourself look more presentable and less like you had just had what was turning into a hot and heavy makeout session with the boss, technically. Then you ran after Mitch. He hadn’t gotten far, his long legs not meaning much when he didn’t really choose to utilize them.

“Mitch!” You grabbed his shoulder and he kind of shrugged you off.

He looked down at you, silent. Normally, you weren’t fazed by his silence, but right now you needed him to speak, you could tell walking in on you and Harry had been unpleasant for him even if what you had been doing wasn’t x-rated.

“Wait up, c’mon, talk to me, please,” you begged him.

He sighed and leaned against the hallway’s wall. His body slumped there and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Y/N, what the hell are you doing? I said ‘think about joining his band, not his harem.’”

“Ok, he doesn’t-” you started, but Mitch continued, cutting you off. “Like, I don’t get how you think it’s a good idea to be sleeping with Harry.” His voice was hushed, but his tone was angry. It was like he was whisper-shouting at you.

“Mitch, first of all, I am not sleeping with Harry. That was the first time, anything like that had ever happened between us. Second, I told him to wait so I could talk to you first about it, so if you’re really uncomfortable with it, I won’t kiss him again.”

It had only been a week since Mitch had started dating Sarah and loving him for your entire life wasn’t going to go away in seven days, even if it felt good to kiss Harry, you wouldn’t do anything that might hurt Mitch.

And Mitch knew that, and he also knew he couldn’t be with Sarah and tell you not to be with someone you were interested in. Harry and you could be a good thing for you, but if all it was was a coping mechanism for you to get over Mitch that wouldn’t be fair to Harry, who was also Mitch’s friend. He just wished he’d never opened that door now. Ignored it and kept walking, let someone else find you and Harry.

“You don’t need my permission,” Mitch responded.

“What?”

“Saying you wouldn’t be with him based on my opinion means you would change how you feel just because of me. You shouldn’t base your choices off of someone else.”

“I just meant, because you're my best friend and you're close with Harry, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable with either of us.”

“Y/N, if you want my blessing, you’ve got it. Just make sure both of you are there for the right reasons.”

You smiled at Mitch, who still looked off put by the entire situation. You reached out to him and he pushed off the wall to meet your hug halfway. His substantial body enveloped you like a dark cocoon, Mitch had dressed head to toe in black today.

This was new territory for both of you, finding yourself people who might just be perfect for you. It was daunting, but you were excited.

—

Thanks again!! Part 3 is up!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #i am not going to join your band #mitch do be lowkey angry at the end #but his vibe is so chill you can barely tell #also he got to speak!! #yay #mitch x reader #mitch rowland x reader

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU

Chapter 3 is up on AO3! You can also read every chapter on tumblr with this chapter masterlist!

An Old Friend

Present 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Dean thought his brain was going to explode. It ached from the accident in the shop, sure, but Cas sitting at his bedside was making the pounding ten times worse. 

“Wh-What are you doin’ here, man?” Dean choked out. His throat was dry, and he coughed to clear it. Cas reached below his chair and extended a bottle of water to Dean. Dean just stared at it. 

“Drink it, you’ll feel better,” Cas said. Dean slowly sat up to accept the water, not taking his eyes off of Cas the whole time. He opened and drank it, silently, watching Cas as if he were about to disappear. Dean was ninety-eight percent sure he would disappear. 

“Thanks,” Dean said after he had drained the bottle. 

“To answer your question,” Cas said, “I was on my way to Kansas City when my car just… Broke down. I had Triple A tow it to the nearest mechanic. I had no idea…” 

I had no idea you worked there. Cas hadn’t expected, hadn’t meant to run into him here. That fact hurt more than Dean was willing to deal with, sitting in a hospital with God knows how many stitches in his forehead. He pushed the thought away and cleared his throat again.

“What’s in Kansas City?” He asked. 

“A job.” 

“Writing job or accounting job?” 

Cas blinked at him. “Accounting. I never finished my creative writing degree.” 

Dean’s head whipped up at that, but he immediately regretted the movement. “Agh, fuck,” he said. “My whole damn head hurts. What did I hit it on?” 

“I’m not sure, I didn’t see,” Cas said. “The doctor said you would probably have a concussion. They gave you eight stitches.” 

“Concussion, my ass,” Dean grumbled, but he knew Cas was right. He had only been sitting for a few minutes, but the room was swimming. It must have been obvious, because Cas stood up and placed a hand firmly on his chest. Dean flinched away at the touch.

“You should lay back down.” 

“Right.”

Dean settled back against the pillow, attempting to keep his thoughts away from the pain in his head.

“So… Accounting. In Kansas City,” Dean said. Cas nodded. “Big man. When did that happen?” 

“I interned at the firm last summer. They approved of my work enough to offer me a job post-graduation,” Cas explained.

“Ah,” Dean said. Cas had been, at most, forty minutes away in the summer. And he hadn’t even called, hadn’t even bothered to stop by Lawrence. He closed his eyes — the lights were still too bright. “You said you didn’t finish the writing thing?”

“No,” Cas said, shortly. “I was… It was too many courses. I would have had to take a fifth year. Committing to one major allowed me to graduate a semester early.” 

Dean murmured in understanding. “When did you graduate anyway? Damn it must have been —” 

“Two weeks ago,” Cas said. 

“Would’ve been nice to know.” 

Cas blinked at him. “I wasn’t aware that you cared.” 

Dean drew his hand into a fist. “What the hell is —” 

“Ah, Mr. Winchester, you’re awake.” A small woman in a doctor’s coat interrupted him. “I’m Dr. Barnes, your attending.” 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thanks for sewing me up,” Dean said, pointedly avoiding looking at Cas. 

“It’s not a problem. I’m just going to check you out, make sure you’re doing all right.” She turned to Cas. “Mr. Novak, I assure you, he’s in the best of hands here. Go get something to eat.” 

Cas gave Dean a final lingering stare before exiting the room.

“How long was I out?” Dean asked as Dr. Barnes removed the bandage on his forehead to check his stitches. 

“About twelve hours. Unsurprisingly, you lost a lot of blood. That coupled with the head trauma had you knocked down pretty good.”

“Twelve hours,” Dean muttered. “Damn, so it’s Thursday already?” 

Dr. Barnes nodded. “I’m going to need you to follow this light with your eyes, okay?” Dean did. She studied him for a moment. “Well, you’re definitely concussed.” 

“How long til it goes away?” Dean asked, irritated. He couldn’t bear the idea of leaving Bobby alone in the shop for long. Plus, Sam was coming for Christmas, and he would jump at the possibility of bossing Dean around for once. The thought alone was irritating. 

“Best guess? A week, minimum. No screens for at least the next twelve hours. And drink lots of water. I’ll print some other information out for you to help speed up the recovery.” 

Dean thanked her, and she smiled. “That Mr. Novak a good friend of yours?” She asked. 

“An old friend,” Dean said in reply. 

“I only ask because he quite literally hasn’t left your side since he brought you in. Knew all your information, too,” Dr. Barnes said. “It’s nice to have friends like that.” 

“I guess,” was all Dean could say.

“Speak of the devil,” Dr. Barnes said as Cas returned to the room, holding two bags of Doritos and two more water bottles. “Mr. Winchester is healing up nicely, but he’s definitely concussed. Do me a favor and make sure he doesn’t go back to that shop until next week?” 

Cas’ eyes flickered to Dean, then back to Dr. Barnes. “You have my word.” 

“Excellent. Well, Mr. Winchester, I’ll just go print off some paperwork, and then you’ll be free to go.” 

“Thanks, Doctor,” Dean said. 

When she had left the room, Cas sat back down in his chair, placing one of the waters and chip bags on Dean’s bed. “I figured you might be hungry.”

“Whatever,” Dean said, opening the bag. “They didn’t have any beer?” 

“This is a hospital, Dean,” Cas deadpanned. “Besides, I’m fairly certain alcohol would do nothing to aid your recovery process.” 

“What do you know,” Dean muttered, but downed half of the water in one go, anyway. “How long are you in Lawrence?” 

“As long as it takes for Mr. Singer to fix my car, I suppose,” Cas said. 

“Bobby,” Dean corrected automatically. Hearing his boss referred to as Mr. Singer was just cosmically wrong. 

“Right.” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but that’s probably going to take a while.”

“What? How long?” 

Dean shrugged. “If I’m out for a whole week… God, it’d probably take two, maybe three depending on how serious it is. We’re the most trusted shop in Lawrence, we’ve got appointments, and we gotta take care of them first.” This was mostly true, but Dean doubted that whatever was wrong with Castiel’s car couldn’t be fixed in a week. But he needed Cas to give up the noble role of caretaker as soon as possible. 

Cas narrowed his eyes at that. “And I’m sure if you were to get back to work sooner, this problem could be avoided?” 

“Exactly.”

“Well,” Cas sighed. “It’s a good thing my starting date isn’t for another three weeks. I was just coming down early to get settled. But I can wait.” 

Dean stared at him for a moment. He really couldn’t stand the idea of sitting around for a week with nothing to do. But if he knew Cas at all — and he thought perhaps he still did — he knew Cas would relay the doctor’s orders to Bobby, who would then resolutely deny Dean any hours at the shop.

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’ll get a hotel.” 

Dean blinked. “The hell you will. For three weeks? Dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” 

“Dean,” Cas started, but Dean cut him off. 

“No way. Look, I get back to work on Monday, your car’s fixed on Tuesday. I owe you one, I’ll work fast. Then you’re out of here. We can pretend this never happened, you can get on with your life in the big city.” 

“You have a concussion.”

“Yeah, and since when did you give a damn about what happened to me?” Dean’s voice had gone low. The original shock of seeing Cas had worn off. All that was left was a low-burning rage. He was angry, so angry that Cas was here, that Cas essentially gave him a concussion, that Cas drove him to the hospital, that Cas stayed with him the whole night, that Cas could leave and waltz back in whenever he pleased and Dean couldn’t even pretend to hate him. 

Cas stiffened. “I… Dean, you — ”

“No, man.” The anger died as fast as it had ignited. Dean’s head was positively throbbing now. He wiped his face with a hand. “You should go.”

“You can’t drive, Dean.” 

Dean inhaled slowly through his nose to keep from yelling at the other man, right here in the middle of the hospital. “Cas, I swear to fucking God…” 

“You’re acting like a child,” Cas said.

“Yeah, I’m the childish one,” Dean said under his breath.

Cas narrowed his eyes as he approached Dean’s bed. His proximity, not to mention the steeliness of his gaze, made Dean feel like squirming. 

“I don’t care if you have a problem with me. I’m not going to let you drive home with a head injury. We were friends once, and I don’t intend to dishonor that by allowing you to do something this stupid.” When Dean opened his mouth to protest, Cas cut him off with, “Do you really want to do this right now?” 

And “this” meant so many things all at once that Dean almost lost track of the argument they were having in the first place. Do you really want to talk about why I left right now? Do you really want to yell at me for disappearing right now? Do you really want to argue about who is and isn’t allowed to drive right now?

They stared at each other for a moment, Cas’ gaze unfathomable, Dean’s angry.

“No,” Dean grumbled. “Just get me out of here.” 

Thanks to anyone who goes on AO3 and leaves kudos, you’re all so wonderful🥺🥺Also tagging @nguyenxtrang for updates (when you asked to be tagged wow!! my heart sang!! thank you!!)

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #superposition

[thegoodthebadthesickly]

Find The Cure: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Another filled request from my Wattpad for @badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: Language

Prompt: Find the Cure

Fandom: MCU

Word Count: 12.2k

(Swirls are requested. Stars are completed)

Once again, sorry if Tumblr flubbed the formatting!

It happened fast. Natasha didn't even give  herself time to think before pushing Spider-Man out of the way of the bullet speeding towards his head.

Natasha put out her hand to help Peter up, the fight wasn't over yet. There were still at least seven of SaloTech's, a bio-engineering firrm that turned out (surprise, surprise) be building biological weapons, guys running around with bio weapon backpacks. No one was sure what the weapons were actually capable of, but, given the advances biotech had seen in the past few years, it was at best, a minor nuisance and at worst, a disease that could take out half of earth's population.

Na-Black Widow!" Peter yelled, some part of him mentally kicking himself for almost forgetting to use code names.

Honestly, she hadn't even felt the bullet hit her left bicep, adrenaline was a hell of a drug. Natasha at the injury. Yep. The bullet that almost hit Peter Parker between the eyes had dug itself into Natasha's bicep. Still not feeling pain, she had been trained long ago to block out distracting physical sensation-- pain had no place in a mission-- she reached around with her right hand and felt for, yep -- an exit wound. That would make things easier when she was getting patched up, at least.

"Spidey, I'm fine." Natasha said, careful to keep her voice even. She had been shot at so many times that it felt almost normal now, but the kid was still pretty new to Superhero stuff. She needed to get him back on track.

"Spider-Man? You with me?" Natasha squatted, putting out her good hand to help Peter up.

"Y-yeah." Peter shook his head, trying to clear the anxiety that was starting to creep in. He grasped Nat's hand and let himself be pulled up.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Flesh wound." Natasha said as she watched a meta-human get smacked into the pavement by Bruce.

"You just don't stay down, do you?" Someone shouted behind Natasha.

"No. I find it keeps me from kicking the bad guys ass." Natasha turned around smoothly, smiling.

Buff blond guy #5, all of these bio-terrorist goons looked the same, was pointing a gun at her chest.

"Now, listen to me, bitch-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold up." Natasha stepped towards him. "As a society, aren't we way past calling women we don't like bitches?"

Taken aback, Blondie took a half step back.

Peter smiled underneath his mask, watching Nat psychologically dismantle an asshole was always fun.

"Underoos!" Tony's voice crackled over the coms. "If you're done drooling over Black Widow, I could use a hand over here!"

"Have fun." Peter laughed before swinging away to wherever Tony needed him.

"Listen, bi-lady-"

"Much better." Natasha smiled menacingly. "If you're going to threaten me, at least be respectful about it." She took another step towards him. She was almost within striking distance.

"You're all fucked! No one can stop what's coming!" He yelled wildly.

Oh God, another one of those. Natasha sighed. She took another tiny step forward. Blondie didn't move. He was distracted, good.

"What exactly is coming?"

"Revela-"

"Actually, I forgot that I don't care. I'm just going to kick your ass now, mkay?" Natasha interrupted again, smiling.

Blondie looked confused for a moment before Natasha's fist collided with his jaw. He went down like a ton of bricks and didn't get back up.

"Bitch." Natasha smirked, field stripping Blondie's gun, pocketing the ammo, and taking his backpack. Once these guys were no longer packing potentially lethal biotech, the local PD was more than capable of handling things.

"Did you boys leave any fun for me?" She asked, pressing the earpiece further into her ear.

"Sorry, Widow." Bruce's voice came over the coms. "We're just wrapping things up about a block away from you're location."

"My guy wasn't even that fun, just called me a bitch and went down with one punch." Natasha huffed as she found the green dot on her communicator and started walking towards it.

"Aww, there's always one dud." Tony said sympathetically, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Clint would have left one for me." Thinking about her best friend still made her sad. She understood why he'd gone back into retirement, but it felt like she was always missing something, someone. "You guys are getting greedy." She laughed, a twinge of pain sparking to life in her wounded arm. "I'm on my way to your location now."

"I already put a call in to the PD, so we should be good to go when you get here." Cap said, reading Natasha's mind.

"Agh!" Natasha hissed and grabbed her injured arm, a sharp, shooting pain momentarily stopping her in her tracks. Well, adrenaline was a hell of a drug, she thought, until it wore off.

"Nat? Did you get hit?" Bruce's asked over the coms as Natasha rounded the corner.

"It was my arm or Parker's head." She explained, joining the group of men.

Peter, who had pulled up his mask, blushed. "Thanks."

Natasha nodded towards him and smiled.

"Is it-"

"Through and through. Can't even-" Natasha cringed in pain and grit her teeth. "Gah!"

"We can get you patched up back at the jet. You good?" Bruce asked, surveying Natasha with those perpetually sad eyes that she adored.

"PD is here. That's our cue to not be here." Tony said, putting down the face plate of his suit.

The team made their way to the jet.

On the ride back to the compound, Bruce examined Natasha's arm. She was right, through and through. Bruce cleaned the wound thoroughly, letting Natasha grip his leg as the antiseptic burned, and put a sterile wrap on it. He'd offered pain meds, but-- in true Nat fashion--Natasha'd refused.

When they arrived back to the compound, everyone went their separate ways. Peter headed back to the city, still needing to get in nightly patrol and homework; Tony went to his workshop, mumbling something about tuneups; Steve went to his room to take his nightly Skype call with Bucky, and Bruce went to the lab to run tests on the tech they'd taken from the goons today. Nat, ignoring any and all medical advice from Bruce, changed into her workout clothes and went to the gym.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha panted and wiped away a trickle of sweat, getting the bandage on her arm wet. Bruce wouldn't be very happy, she mused, dodging as the sparring bot swung it's spear towards her.

She ducked and swept her foot under a bot, knocking it on it's back. Going in for the kill, Natasha pushed herself up, or at least she tried. Her left arm gave out under the weight.

"Agh!" Natasha yelled out of both frustration and pain.

The bot, seeing an opening, righted itself and swung it's holographic spear at Natasha's head. She deflected with her own spear. She absently wondered why Tony had gone for spears instead of something they might encounter in the real world, like guns.

Natasha leveraged herself against the bot's spear and sent it flying over her head. Having learned her lesson, she pushed herself up with her right hand.

Going in for the kill, Natasha bounded over to the bot and was about to finish the simulation when the it used the butt of the spear to push her feet out from under her.

"Ahh!" Natasha cried, landing on her bad arm.

She tried to get up, but pain made her hazy.

Natasha looked up just in time to watch the bot thrust his spear into her chest, making her feel like someone had splashed ice water onto her chest.

"Simulation Failed." Friday's voice announced.

"Thanks Friday." Natasha grunted, pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Would you like to review the simulation and receive feedback?" Friday asked.

"No thanks." Natasha huffed, she'd already lived through getting her ass kicked once, she didn't need to watch it in slow motion.

"Would you like to run the simulation again? Perhaps at a lower level this time?" Friday asked almost sounding smug.

Sometimes, Natasha thought that Tony may have made the AI a little too human.

"No." Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up. Her arm throbbed. Looking down at the bandage, she saw that blood was starting to seep through. "Fuck me." She huffed. Bruce was definitely not going to be happy about that.

Leaving the gym, Natasha walked to the med bay to find some more gauze. Her arm felt oddly numb, but prickled as pins and needles ran up and down through the nerves. She tried to think if getting shot had always felt like this.

Opening the door to the med bay, Natasha was surprised to see Tony bandaging his hand clumsily.

"What happened to you?"

"Sliced my hand on an unfinished piece of my new suit." Tony explained.

"New suit?" Natasha asked, stepping forward and taking the wrap out of Tony's hand. He was going to cut off the circulation if he wrapped it that tightly.

Tony huffed, but didn't argue.

"Just a little upgrade on my design from a few years back. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"Went a little too hard at the gym." Natasha showed Tony her bloody bandage.

"Should you be going to the gym at all right now?" He asked.

Natasha pursed her lips.

"Nevermind." Tony put his good hand up in surrender.

"All done." Natasha tucked in the loose end of the bandage.

"Need any help?" Tony gestured towards Natasha's arm.

"Thanks, but I'm good."

Nodding, Tony walked to the door. He turned around at the last minute.

"Hey, Nat?"

"Hmm?" Natasha asked, unwrapping the bandage on her arm.

"I know I don't have to say it, but thanks, you know, for today. For the kid." Tony tapped a beat on the door frame.

"You're right, you don't have to say it, but you're welcome." Natasha smiled. "You know, I wasn't sure about a fifteen year old superhero at first, but I gotta say, the kid's grown on me."

"Is Natasha Rominoff admitting that she has a heart?" Tony gushed, putting his hand over the arc reactor.

"Fuck off." Natasha flicked up her middle finger, laughing.

Tony let the door close behind him. Natasha could hear him laughing all the way down the hall.

She finished removing the bandage and got a good look at what was underneath for the first time. The perimeter was tinged an angry red, but Natasha thought she could see something else in the gore. Bits of black? Probably just dried blood, she thought. Unable to get a good vantage point, Natasha gave up. She cleaned the wound once again and wrapped it in a fresh bandage.

Tired from the events of the day, Natasha went to her room and got into bed.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours, but her arm ached and the pins and needles had given had made her fingers go numb. Finally giving in, Natasha took two ibuprofen that someone, Bruce no doubt, had left on her bedside table. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep.

Natasha woke up feeling not even slightly rested. She wasn't sure she'd even managed a full hour of sleep at a time last night for the pain in her arm.

"Ugh" Natasha groaned, stretching. She flexed her bicep, testing the pain. It still hurt, a lot, but at least the pins and needles were gone. She got up and padded to the kitchen for coffee.

"Morning." Bruce greeted.

"Morning." Natasha yawned.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, giving her a quick once over.

"Arm hurts. Didn't sleep. Just peachy." She said sarcastically.

"Ah. Coffee?"

"Definitely."

Bruce poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Natasha. Instinctively, she reached for it with her left hand.

She grabbed for the cup, but it slipped through her fingers.

"Ahh!" Natasha and Bruce yelled in surprise, jumping out the way to avoid the hot coffee.

"You okay?" Bruce asked, eying her skeptically.

"Yeah." Natasha answered, wondering the same thing herself. "Guess I just lost my grip." Natasha shrugged, watching as a roomba sweeps by and rolls over the mess, somehow clearing away even the chipped coffee cup.

"Okay. Have you been having any other trouble with your arm?"

Natasha almost tells Bruce about the pins and needles and the black specks, but then she doesn't. She's not really sure why she wants to keep this from her friend, but she did.

"Nope."

"If you were, would you tell me?"

"Bruce, why would I lie to you?"

Bruce shrugged.

"I'm fine. This is just your run of the mill bullet wound. I'll be good as new in a few weeks." Natasha promised.

"More coffee?" Bruce asked after a beat of silence.

"Yes, please." Natasha almost begs, this time making sure to reach for the cup with her right hand.

After coffee with Bruce, Natasha goes back to her room to shower and get dressed for the day.

Turning on the shower, Natasha sits down on the wide porcelain bench. The steam and warmth feel so nice that she doesn't even realize she's leaning back. She absently puts her left arm behind her to support her weight. Natasha's arm screams under the pressure and her elbow buckles, sending her flailing backwards and making her land on her bad arm.

"Ow!" She cried, tears clouding the corners of her vision, grabbing her arm. It was numb.

Natasha, suddenly equal parts curious and worried, put her hand on her shoulder. Pins and needles, but she could feel it. She slowly moved down the rest of her arm, poking and pushing. Her arm was numb from the shoulder down, even down to her fingers. No. Natasha thought, rubbing her arm trying to get any sensory reaction. It hadn't just gone numb, there was no sensation at all.

Her shower forgotten, Natasha quickly got out and dried off before going to find Bruce.

"Nat?" Bruce asked as Natasha burst through the door of the lab.

"Something's wrong." She said.

"Okay, wai-why-what-hmm?" Bruce stammered. "What's wrong?" He tried again.

"I can't feel my arm." Natasha said matter of factly.

"A little numbness can be normal with wounds like this." Bruce explained.

"Bruce, do you know how many times I've been shot?"

"No."

"Neither do I, but I've gotten shot enough times to know that this isn't normal. Bruce, It's not just numb, I can't feel any sensation at all."

Bruce looked at his friend and saw something almost like fear in her eyes, which was surprising. The only time he'd ever seen Natasha Romanoff afraid was when one of her teammates was in mortal danger.

"Okay." Bruce puts a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure this out."

Bruce got to work taking blood samples, a sputum sample, and even a urine sample. He wanted to cover all his bases, because whatever this was, it scared Natasha, and that scared Bruce.

"Okay, all done." Bruce smiled, taking the tourniquet off of Natasha's arm. "I'll take these and run some tests. Hopefully that tells us if there's a chemical reason for the numbness. I'd also like to get you an EMG just to rule out any nerve damage we may have missed yesterday." He retrieved the machine from the shelf of equipment he rarely had use for.

"Okay."

Bruce strapped the machine to Natasha's arm, turned it on, and waited, and waited, and waited. There was no response.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No. Should I?"

"No prickling or pins and needles?"

"No."

"Natasha, can you raise your arms for me?" Bruce asked, really confused now. He demonstrated holding them straight out in front of himself.

Natasha raised her arms like Bruce showed her, or at least she tried. Her left arm wasn't moving at all. Her right arm appeared to be just fine, but she was starting to feel pins and needles in her neck and upper shoulder.

"I-I can't." She strained to move her left arm.

Bruce watched Natasha struggle, and after a moment of holding steady, he watched as her right arm slowly fell to her side.

"Nat?" He asked.

She was distracted, watching her right arm slowly be pulled down.

"This isn't normal, Bruce."

"No, no it isn't. We're gonna figure this out though." Bruce took her hand in his and held her to his chest.

Natasha normally wouldn't have let herself be held like this, but with Bruce, she felt good, she felt safe.

"I, uh, won't make you wear a gown or anything, but I think I'd feel better if you stayed in the med bay, so I can monitor you." Bruce pulled back and looked at her.

"Why not just keep me in my room?"

"Not that I think it will, but just in case anything happens, it would be better to have you there."

Natasha sighed, but agreed.

She and Bruce went to the med bay together. He made quick work of hooking her up to various machines and Natasha tried not to think about the tingling working it's way across her chest and into her right bicep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha had always hated being still for too long. It made her antsy. Since she no longer had external stimulus, Bruce had gone back to the lab to start testing the samples he'd taken, she looked for external stimulus. Quickly giving up on sitting in the hospital bed, she got up and, careful not to pull on any of her various attachments, walked around.

"Nat? What are you doing?" Bruce laughed, coming back into the bay to see Natasha running in place.

"Couldn't sit still." she explained, a little breathless.

"Please get back in bed." Bruce pulled the blanket back.

Natasha huffed, but conceded.

Bruce looked at the heart rate monitor, that couldn't be right. The monitor had been hovering just around 58 BPM with an O2 reading of 98% when he'd left. Now, it was blinking yellow and flashing 210 BPM.

"Nat, how long were you running?" He put two fingers on her wrist, hoping the machine was somehow wrong.

"On and off for maybe ten minutes. These machines are weighing me down. Why?" She laughed.

"Your resting pulse is usually around 50-60 BPM. Right now, you're pulse is at 210 BPM and your O2 is at 89%. There's no reason that your heart rate should be that high and your O2 should be getting so low, especially after jogging for ten minutes." Sure enough, Natasha's pulse pounded at an alarming rate in her wrist.

"What does that mean?" She sucked in a slow breath. Was it getting harder to breathe?

"I don't know." Bruce said honestly. "I'll be right."

Going to the supply closet again, Bruce pulled out a nasal cannula and went back to Natasha.

"Here." He attached one end to the wall and then helped Natasha pull the cord over her head and put the nubbins in her nose before turning on the flow.

"Well, that's incredibly annoying." Natasha said, feeling like she'd stuck her face out of a moving car and air was being forced up her nose.

"It's working, though." Bruce pointed to the monitor, which now read O2 92% HR 205.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a glass of water around here? My mouth is like the Sahara right now." Natasha said, her voice still breathy.

"Ask, and you shall receive." Bruce smiled and went to find a cup.

"Here." Bruce held up the cup triumphantly. He stopped next to Natasha's bed and held it out to her. She was leaning back against the pillows.

Natasha tried to put her right arm out to grab the cup, but only succeeded in lifting it about six inches before it flopped back onto her lap.

"What the-"

Bruce took Natasha's arm in his hand. Starting with the bicep, he squeezed. It wouldn't be enough to be especially painful, but it should get a sensory reaction.

"Nat, can you feel this?" Bruce moved his hand down her arm.

"No. There're pins and needles in my fingers, but that's i-it." She looked up at him, unsure.

"What the hell?" Bruce muttered. "Can you move your arms at all?"

"N-n-no." Natasha struggled to say, her tongue felt too thick in her mouth.

"Natasha, can you sit up?" He was getting worried now.

"Nun-n-no-no." Natasha strained, trying to pull her body into a sitting position.

"Natasha, smile."

Natasha smiled, but the left side of her face drooped noticeably.

He looked at the monitor, hoping to shed light on why Natasha was apparently suddenly paralyzed from the neck down.

"This doesn't make any sense." He said, pulling the blanket off of her legs.

Pinching her toes, Bruce looked for a sensory response. Her foot twitched. Good.

"Does that hurt?"

"P-pins 'nd needles." Natasha slurred.

Bruce grabbed another pillow from the next bed over and put it under Natasha's head. If she was, in fact, paralyzed, he didn't want her choking on her own saliva or swallowing her tongue.

"I'll be right back." Bruce promised, walking quickly to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce pulled out his phone and found Dr. Cho's number.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Click. "Hello?"

"Dr. Cho!" Bruce exclaimed. "It's Bruce. Bruce Banner."

"Oh! Hello, Bruce! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's Natasha. Something's wrong. She has all of the symptoms of descending paralysis, but I can't think of anything that would progress this quickly. Can you come take a look?"

"Absolutely. I'm in Midtown at a Bio Sciences Symposium. I can be there within the hour." Helen said, texting her driver.

"Thank you, Dr. Cho."

"Bruce, it's just Helen." Helen laughed.

"Thank you, Helen."

"You're welcome." She smiled and hung up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce walked back into the med bay, expecting the worst to have happened in the two minutes since he'd been gone.

Natasha was fine though, that is, she was no worse than when Bruce had left her.

"Nat," Bruce said, sitting down beside her. He needed to explain what was happening. "I've called Dr. Cho to come have a look at you. I'm not sure why or how, but your body is becoming parallelized from the neck down."

Natasha fixed him with a look that said No shit, Sherlock, and then actually said "N-no shit Sherl-l-ck." Slurring noticeably and working hard to make her mouth form the words.

"Fuck you, Watson." Bruce laughed gently.

Natasha laughed too, then she couldn't breathe. She was choking. She coughed violently, trying to clear her airway.

Bruce's eyes bug momentarily and he hastily pulls Natasha into a sitting position, trying to help her breathe.

After a moment, the coughing stops and Natasha can breathe again.

Bruce looks at the monitor and sighs. HR 215 O2 86%. He watched carefully, praying that her oxygen would come back up. Slowly, it climbed to 90% and plateaued. Her heart rate went down to 206, which was still really not good for a resting heart rate, but was less likely to send Natasha into a stroke.

They sat in silence for a minute, the coughing seeming to have taken a lot of energy from Natasha. Bruce took her limp hand in his, praying for any movement at all. Still nothing.

Bruce and Natasha sat in tense silence until Dr. Cho got there. When she did, Natasha and Bruce were both surprised to see Steve Rogers trailing behind her like a lost puppy, worry etched into his features. That was when Bruce realized he hadn't told any of his teammates about Nat's condition.

After filling Dr. Cho and Steve in on everything that had happened since that morning, Bruce left to go find Tony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce jogged into Tony's workshop, where AC/DC was predictably blaring over the speakers.

"Tony!" Bruce yelled. Tony was on his back, under one of his many machines. He didn't move.

"Friday, can you-"

"Sure thing." Friday said pleasantly. The music cut off abruptly.

"Tony!" Bruce tried again.

"Wha-what?" Tony yelled in surprised, hitting his head on a piece of metal framing. "Fuck! What is it, Bruce?" He rubbed his forehead.

"It's Nat. Something's wrong."

That got Tony's attention.

"What?" Tony got up and walked towards Bruce, still rubbing his head.

"I don't know, exactly. She was fine last night, but since about," Bruce checked his watch, 11 o'clock, "9 o'clock this morning, she's been slowly losing upper motor capabilities. Now, she's starting to have numbness and tingling in her feet and legs."

"Oh my God."

"I know. I took blood, saliva, and urine samples. I'm running them in the lab right now; hopefully, that gives us a little more to go off. I called Dr. Cho. She's with her now."

"What can I do?" Tony asked.

"Use that big brain of yours to help me find a logical reason for all of this." Bruce plead.

"Lab?"

"Lab."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony and Bruce raced to the lab.

Unluckily, none of the samples were up yet.

"Okay, let's think. Could this be nerve related?" Tony asked, pulling out the whiteboard.

"Possibly, but if it was just nerve related, wouldn't it be localized to her left arm?"

"True." Tony huffed. He made two columns on the board, COULD BE and COULD NOT BE. He added nerve damage to the COULD NOT BE side.

"Stroke?" Bruce shot out.

"Wouldn't have progressed to the entire body." Tony added to the COULD NOT BE side once again.

"Polio?" Tony asked.

"There hasn't been a case of polio in more than 30 years. Plus, there's no fever."

Tony added to the COULD NOT BE side again.

Both men were quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Botulism?" They said at the same time.

"Maybe."

Tony added the illness to the COULD BE side of the board.

"What if-no. That's ascending paralysis." Bruce said, thinking out loud.

Bruce took the marker from Tony and scrawled the list of symptoms in the lower corner.

Descending Paralysis Rapid HR Low O2

There had to be something he was missing. None of the symptoms made since together. It was like trying to start a puzzle from the center, he couldn't figure out where the beginning was.

"Dr. Banner, Boss, Dr. Cho is asking for you in the med bay." Friday announced.

"Thanks, Fri." Tony called to the AI.

"No problem, Boss."

Tony and Bruce went to the med bay, leaving their list behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha watched Tony and Bruce barrel into the room. She tried to smile at them, but the result was just the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.

"Woah Nat, if you wanted a vacation, all you had to do was ask." Tony joked, his crude humor coming out to mask the worry he felt for his friend lying limp in a hospital bed.

Nevertheless, the joke did succeed in lightening the mood slightly. Natasha made a noise in the back of her throat that was meant to be laughter.

"What's the diagnosis, Doc?" Tony asked.

"How could something like this happen so quickly?" Steve asked from behind Tony.

Tony jumped, he hadn't seen Steve when they walked in.

"Jesus, Rogers! Warn a guy!"

Bruce snickered as Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm afraid I don't have many answers for you." Helen said, discouraged. "Rapid heart rate, low O2, and paralysis don't point in any definitive direction."

"There has to be something we're missing." Tony said.

"I'd have to agree with you, Tony." Helen said.

"There's nothing else, though." Bruce huffed, feeling like hitting his head against a brick wall might give way to more progress.

"Nat! Oh my God!" Steve yelled, just before the O2 alarm began blaring, closely followed by the heart monitor.

Helen, Tony, and Bruce turned to see Natasha turning first red, then white.

"She isn't breathing!" Bruce yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha was getting more confused by the minute. Besides not being able to move of her own accord, she felt fine. Her arm didn't even hurt anymore, she thought. Well, she corrected herself, paralysis has that effect on people.

She took another slow, deep breath as Helen explained her condition to her friends.

"I'm afraid I don't have many answers for you." Helen sounded crestfallen.

Another slow, deep breath. Natasha tried to get her heart rate down, a constant heart rate about 200 was making her jittery and a little nauseous.

"Rapid heart rate...paralysis....definitive direction." Helen said, but Natasha couldn't focus on her words. Her hearing was going in and out, like a bad TV connection. It was getting hard to breathe.

"With you, Tony." Helen's voice sounded far away.

Another slow, deep breat-

She couldn't breathe. Natasha couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream that she couldn't breathe, but she could just watch her friend's backs in horror.

Finally, right before her brain blinked out, she managed to make eye contact with Steve.

"Oh my Go-"

Then there was nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment, the only sounds in the room were the alarms blaring.

Then everyone was moving.

"I don't have a pulse." Helen felt a point on Natasha's kneck, taking charge. She pushed a button on the bed to make it lay flat, climbed onto the bed and knelt over Natasha, starting compressions.

"Bruce! Get me epi and a crash cart!" She yelled.

Bruce, going into doctor mode, wheeled around and ran for the medical supplies.

Tony and Steve just stood there, unsure of what to do. Awkwardly moving beside the bed.

"You two, either move out of the way or leave the room! I need space to save your friend!" She said, never taking her eyes off of Natasha.

Steve, seeing Tony wasn't going to do either of those things, pulled him back to the corner of the room. Tony surprised himself by letting himself be pulled back.

They watched Helen and Bruce work, yelling numbers and medical jargon at each other.

"I have a pulse!" Helen jumped down from the bed. "It's weak, but it's there. Bruce, pads." She commanded.

Tony and Steve watched as Bruce cut open Nat's shirt to expose her chest and placed two orange pads.

"Clear" Bruce called. He and Helen both backing up about a foot.

A shock ran through Natasha's body, her back arching off of the bed slightly.

A spike popped up on the heart monitor.

"Push one mil of epi and go again." Helen commanded.

Bruce pulled out a syringe and pushed the needle into Natasha's chest, just above her heart.

"Clear" Helen called. She and Bruce once again stepped back as electricity coursed through Natasha's limp body.

The alarms stopped, replaced by a gentle beeping.

"Heart rate and O2 are coming up." Bruce said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Do you have a ventilator on hand?" Helen asked, still breathing hard and sweating from compressions.

"Yes." Bruce turned around wordlessly.

"Cho. What the hell just happened?" Tony asked.

"The heart can only stand beating at that sort of bpm for so long. The fast heart rate wasn't allowing enough oxygenated blood to return to her brain. She had a stroke."

"Is she-" Steve cut himself off.

"Unfortunately, we won't know anything until she wakes up."

If, she wakes up. Steve thought grimly.

"Right now, we need to take as much stress off of her heart as possible. She may be young and healthy, but I don't think anyone could handle that type or cardiac event twice in such a short time frame. The best thing to do right now is to sedate her and put her into a medically induced coma. That way, her body has time to rest. Hopefully, the coma will also give us more time to figure out why this all happened in the first place." Helen explained.

Bruce came back with the ventilator and Dr. Cho made Steve and Tony leave.

Tony could have sworn he heard Helen say something about Nat's heart rate going through the roof again. He felt nauseous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Helen and Bruce had everything set up, they met Steve and Tony out in the hallway. Tony thought Bruce looked ready to curl up in the fetal position and cry. He could relate.

"Any ideas on what this could be?" Tony asked. "I'm opening the floor to discussion here, science nerds and art nerds alike." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Normally, Steve would have shot back at Tony for calling him an art nerd, but now wasn't the time.

"Okay, what do we know so far?" Steve asked.

"High heart rate, paralysis, low oxygen. None of those things fit together under one specific diagnosis." Bruce said, starting to feel helpless.

"Is there anything that you all haven't told me yet? Anything at all that you might have overlooked or forgotten?" Helen asked.

"She got shot on a mission yesterday." Bruce said slowly. "But I cleaned and dressed the wound myself." He stepped forward and pushed up the sleeve of Natasha's hospital gown. "Just a run of the mill bullet wound."

"Did you have to remove the bullet?" Helen inspected the wrapping.

"No. Through and through."

"Hmm" She hummed. "For the record, I don't think you did anything wrong, Bruce."

She began unwrapping the bandage around Natasha's arm.

When the last piece of the bandage fell away, everyone gasped. The area around the small bullet wound was swollen and had turned a deep, angry red color. Tony and Steve looked away, but Bruce went in for a closer look. There were little black specks in the wound.

"This looks like-but it couldn't-that would require so much work-how would that even work?" Bruce asked, once again having a conversation with himself.

"Bruce, bud, you wanna fill us in?" Steve asked gently.

"Oh" Bruce had forgotten he wasn't actually talking out loud. "This looks like, and correct me if I'm wrong, Helen, some cross between black nightshade poison and hemlock poison."

Helen took a closer look and Bruce, seeing that his friends needed further explanation, stepped back.

"Black nightshade and poison hemlock are both incredibly poisonous plants. The bullet that Nat got hit with yesterday must have either been coated with poison from the plants or the poison was inside the bullet and somehow discharged when the guy pulled the trigger." Bruce said.

"Even if we are looking at some sort of amalgamation of black nightshade and hemlock, there's still one thing I don't understand." Helen stepped back and looked at Bruce, Tony, and Steve. "Both of those plants contain incredibly potent and deadly toxins. How, and forgive me for being so crude, how is Natasha not dead yet?" Helen asked.

"I don't know." Bruce sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter bounded up the drive to the Avengers Compound. He had been working on a new web fluid formula and couldn't wait to show Tony and Bruce, and he'd perfected a move Cap had been teaching him.

He burst into the compound expecting to hear AC/DC or Metallica blaring from the workshop or to see Steve sitting by the window drawing, but the place looked deserted.

"Hello?" Peter called.

No answer.

The spidey sense was poking at the back of his mind. It didn't feel like the usual DANGER signs he usually got with his powers, but more like a feeling that he wasn't seeing something.

Peter looked around once again.

"Hello?"

"Pete?" Tony asked, suddenly right beside him.

"Holy shit!" Peter yelled.

"Pete, keep you're voice down."

Peter tried to calm his racing heart.

"Where is everybody?" He asked.

"There's something I need to tell you. Let's sit." Tony put his hand on Peter's shoulder and guided him toward the living room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean you don't know how to fix her?" Peter shouted, jumping up from the couch.

"Kid, hey, cal-"

"Please don't tell me to calm down right now, Tony." Peter said dangerously. He ran his hands through his hair and started to pace.

"This is-this is all my fault." Peter said, tears threatening to spill over.

"Pete, this is not your fau-"

"Y-yes it i-is." Peter started to cry. "S-she pushed me out of the way yesterday. That should be me in there, not h-her!"

"Listen, I know you're not a baby, so I won't try to lie to you. Things don't look great right now for Nat, but Bruce, Dr. Cho, and I are all working on finding a cure for this thing." Tony paused, pulling Peter into a hug. "We could use that brain of yours, if you're up for it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint Barton had gotten used to ominous or upsetting phone calls when he was actively working with SHIELD, he'd even made his fair share of them, but he never expected to get a call after he retired, especially that his best friend might be dying. He scarcely remembered the drive over, just a vague memory of telling Laura that Nat was sick and then he was gone.

Clint's car screeched to a stop outside the doors to the compound. He swung the door open and ran inside, looking around for anybody. Everyone was sitting in the living room, looking utterly defeated.

"I-is she-am I too late?" He whispered.

"Clint?" Steve looked surprised.

"Barton? What are you-who called you?" Tony asked.

"The kid." He said curtly, nodding towards Peter Parker.

"I jus-just thought he sh-should be here in case anything happens." Peter stammered, he wasn't going to cry again, he didn't think his body could produce anymore tears, but he'd kept having to excuse himself from the lab when they were all working. Natasha was-Peter tried to think of a good name for what Natasha was to him. He guessed she was basically a sharper Aunt May. In another time, Peter would have laughed at himself for thinking of Natasha as sharp.

"She's not dead, if that's what you're asking." Tony said gruffly.

"Fuck off, Tony." He replied, seriously not in the headspace to deal with Stark's bullshit.

"Clint, it's been a while. I wish we were having a happier reunion." Helen stepped forward.

"Hey, Helen. What can you tell me?"

"Yesterday on a mission, Natasha was shot. We think the bullet was somehow laced with toxins from the poisonous nightshade plant and poison hemlock. We're waiting on blood tests to confirm."

"Okay, if we know what's kil-hurting her, let's go find the antivenom or the pill or something!" Clint said, not meaning to sound as angry as he did. "You're all just sitting here."

"That's the trouble," Helen sighed.

"There is no cure." Bruce finished the sentence, he sounded absolutely miserable.

"Then let's make one!"

"Genius, can't believe we hadn't thought of that." Tony deadpanned.

"Seriously, Tony, fuck off!" Clint yelled.

"Both of you, calm down." Steve stood up and moved so he was between Clint and Tony. "This isn't doing anyone any good right now, especially not Nat."

Clint put his face in his hands, looking up when he felt someone sit beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, Bruce.

"If there's no cure, what do we do?" Clint asked hopelessly.

"Our only option is to make an antidote, but without know how much of each toxin was on the bullet, we can't know how to properly formulate the antidote." Bruce said.

There was a distant ping.

"The blood test results are up." Helen said, walking to the lab to get them.

"What did you say?" Peter asked, peeking from under his hoodie.

"Without knowing the ratios that the toxins were administered in, we can't know what ratios to use with the cure."

"I-I think I know how to find out." He said, suddenly very excited, getting up.

"Pete, buddy, you can't go to the prison. The guards won't let you in." Tony sighed, the kid just wanted to help, but he'd get himself killed in the process.

Peter wasn't listening though, he took off towards Natasha's room. He threw the door open and went to work. He quickly found what he was looking for, Nat's room was scary clean, and ran back to the living room.

"Who said anything about jail?" He grinned, holding up the cartridge of bullets Natasha had taken out of the guy's gun yesterday.

"What is that?" Dr. Cho asked.

"Our cure." He handed the bullets to Helen. "These are the same bullets as the one Nastasha got shot with."

"You're alright, kid." Clint clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"So I'm told." He grinned bashfully.

"Well, we won't do much good standing out here, let's get these to the lab!" Tony said, making a "get a move on" signal.

Everyone got up at once and headed for the lab, but stopped in their tracks when they heard alarms coming from the med bay.

Tony got there first, what he saw was enough to make his stomach turn. Steve came in right behind him. He gasped.

"Tony, don't-"

"Already on it." Tony gave him a knowing look.

He pushed against the small crowd to get back out into the hallway. He met Peter, who was bringing up the rear, and grabbed him by the shoulders just as he rounded the corner.

"Pete, you-you don't wanna go in there right now."

"Tony, I-I need to help Nat." He pushed against Tony.

"You don't want to see her like that. You don't want that memory." He held Peter firmly in place, the kid might have super strength, but he was still pretty small.

"They can handle things in there. Me and you, we can just stay out here." Tony tried to calm his voice.

"Tony, I have to-"

"No, Peter! I will not let you see that. You're going to willingly stay out her with me, or I will make you stay out here." Tony said angrily.

"I-fine." Peter sagged against Tony.

Tony lowered himself to the ground, taking Peter with him.

"God, I just feel so-so helpless!" Peter yelled, smacking his fist against the wall and leaving a nice dent.

"I know, kid, I know. Me too." Tony sighed.

A minute later, the alarms went off. Heavy silence seemed to fill every open space, like water.

No one came out of the med bay. No one called for Tony.

Tony's brain had just entered "worst case scenario" territory when Bruce, Steve, and Helen stepped out of the med bay doors.

"Where's Clint?" Peter asked.

"He asked for some time alone with Natasha." Helen explained.

"Doc?" Tony asked.

"If we're going to synthesize a cure, we need to do it now. I'm not sure-" She cut off, putting a hand to her mouth and closing her eyes. "I'm not sure how much time we have left."

"Tony, Bruce?" Steve looked down.

"Cap?"

"Let's go get this fucking cure."

Tony took a deep breath and stood up, pulling Peter with him.

"Let's go do the damn thing." He said firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint watched Steve, Bruce, and Helen walk out of the med bay. He took a deep breath and looked back at his friend lying in the bed. Natasha. Nat. His Nat.

For the first time that day, Clint cried.

Now, he wasn't usually one to cry. He'd just never been super emotional, or was it that he'd never been in touch with his emotions. Whatever it was, Clint could count on two hands the number of times he'd cried in the last fifteen years.

Clint thought he remembered something about how it was possible that coma patients could hear what was happening around them. It was probably bull shit, but Clint figured he had nothing to lose at this point. If Nat woke up, she could make fun of him all she wanted. If she wakes up. He thought, a shiver running down his back.

"Hey, Nat."

This felt stupid.

"I'm, um, it's been a while."

Nothing. Obviously.

"I was actually gonna call you today. Laura's havin another baby? Can you believe that? Four kids!" Clint laughed wetly.

Clint listened to the ventilator for a moment and watched as it pushed air into Nat's lungs.

"Maybe we get another girl this time." Clint sniffed. "You, Lila, and the baby. You'd be unstoppable."

"Nat, listen. You-you've gotta come out of this. Cure or no cure. You didn't survive everything you did to get taken out by a poison bullet. Hell, we didn't survive Thanos for you to get taken down by a stupid piece of lead. So yeah, you're gonna pull through. If you don't, I'll come to the afterlife and kick your ass myself." Clint said gruffly.

He took a deep breath.

"I can-I can't do this without you. You're my best friend, Nat. If there's a universe without you, I don't want to see it."

Then, sure the others were too far away to hear, Clint completely let himself break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Pete, hand me that-yeah. Thanks." Tony said over his shoulder, taking the saline solution. Once they'd gotten to the lab, everyone, including Steve --handing things to people and providing moral support--had gotten right to work.

They'd figured out that there was a coating of poison on the outside of the bullet that only became lethal if brought into contact with biological material, namely, blood. Tony would have thought it was genius, if it wasn't the thing that was currently killing his friend.

Now, they just needed to figure out how to get the coating off of the bullet so that Bruce could reverse engineer the toxins and synthesize a cure.

So far, Tony had tried soaking the bullet in water and saline solution, no dice.

"Bruce? Talk to me. What are you seeing?"

"Well, we know it's bio material soluble, but I don't see how they got it to adhere to the bullet in the first place, let alone how we're supposed to get it off."

That was what Tony had suspected.

"Ahh!" Bruce yelled, pushing himself away from the work table. He stood up, looking a little more green than Tony liked to see. "I'll be back." He said, the Other Guy's voice slipping out under Bruce's.

Bruce had made friends with Hulk a long time ago, and now the big guy only came out when Bruce wanted him too. When he got stressed out though, it was almost like being back in the days when he couldn't control it. There was an easy fix though.

Bruce quickly walked out of the compound and jogged to a clearing across the road. Then, he let Hulk out.

Being Hulk wasn't as in and out as it used to be since Bruce had become friends with the Big Guy, but it still wasn't like he was in charge, not at times like this. When he got angry, when he "fed" Hulk anger, Bruce could strongly suggest that they not go on a rampage in the nearest town, and most of the time he'd listen. Thankfully, Hulk listened today. He felt bad for the Little Guy. He wasn't really good with emotions other than anger, but he knew that the Little Guy was sad.

After a moment, Bruce shrank back down to Bruce size once again. He grabbed a spare set of clothes in a plastic bag, he'd learned to become a planner, and headed back inside. He didn't feel any better, but he also didn't feel like he'd upend his work table.

"Did you change?" Steve asked.

"Had to let the Big Guy out for a minute." Bruce explained, sitting back down.

For a moment, everyone was quiet again.

Then, an idea hit Bruce square between the eyes. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this yet!"

"Oh my God!"

"What? What is it?" Everyone crowded around him.

"Lemon juice!"

"What are you-oh my God! Lemon juice!" Peter took off running.

"Lemon juice is lower on the Ph scale than blood, making it more acidic!"

"If it's more acidic than blood, that means that it can cut through the poison, which is more basic than blood!" Helen clapped.

"Bruce, Brucey, you absolute genius! I could kiss you!" Tony exclaimed as Peter ran back into the lab with a bottle of lemon juice from the fridge.

"What's going on in here?" Clint asked, his voice raw.

"Lemon juice!" Peter yelled.

"Okay then, Cap, I need some air. Care to join me?"

Steve, knowing Clint was probably struggling more than any of them right now, nodded.

"Let's take a walk." Steve suggested.

They walked away, leaving the scientists, a doctor, and a super human teenager to save their friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and Clint walked outside. Steve took a deep breath.

"Hell of a reunion." He laughed.

"Yeah." Clint huffed.

"How's your family?"

"Good. Laura's pregnant. Four kids." Clint mused.

"That's amazing, Clint!" Steve clapped Clint on the back.

"I'm still wrapping my head around the thought of four kids. I think we'll finally have to sell out and get that mini van."

They laughed together, trying to push the heaviness of the day out of the conversation.

"What about you," Clint turned to Steve. "Any new lady friends?" Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nah. I don't really think I'm what women are looking for when they say "old soul"."

They walked in silence for another moment.

"You know, I really thought that you might no come back when you were returning the Infinity Stones. Thought you might make a permanent pit stop in the 20s." Clint confessed.

"Honestly, I almost did. I did see Peggy, and everything in me was telling me to stay, but, knowing what I know now? I couldn't take that from her. If I had stayed, the first time, I'm sure things would have worked out differently, but I know how her life turned out, and it feels selfish on some level to take that away from her." Steve huffed as he finished talking, he hadn't ever really talked to anybody about choosing to come back the second time.

"That must have been really hard, man. I'm glad you came back, though." Who are the Avengers without Captain America?"

"Do you ever wonder, if you could go back and make a different choice, would you do it differently?" Steve asked, unable to tame him morbid curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, with you and Nat."

"I mean, sure. I've thought about if I had never met Laura or if I'd told Nat what I felt." Clint thought for a moment. "The truth is though, Natasha and I never would have worked as anything other than friends. We're both damaged in too many of the same ways."

"Isn't that the point of everything? Finding someone who can understand your scars?" Steve asked.

"I think it's more important that you're good in the same ways. Like Laura. She's everything good about me."

"Huh"

"Look at me, givin life advice to a 100 year old man."

"Hey, technically I'm only 30." Steve defended, punching Clint in the arm.

They walked along in silence for another moment. Clint faltered as the national anthem played.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony constantly changes my ringtone! I'm gonna-" Everything came to the forefront of his mind in a flash. He couldn't believe he'd actually managed to distract himself. He hoped he'd done the same for Clint.

"Tony?"

Steve hung up the phone with a stoic expression.

"We need to get back to the compound. Now."

The two men took off running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Her organs have begun to shut down." Helen confirmed, completing her checkup.

"What does that mean?" Clint asked.

He half expected Tony to make a quip, but even he wouldn't be so cruel right now.

The poison has eaten through the muscular barrier and is in her blood stream. It will likely take the kidneys first, then the liver, the lungs, and finally the heart."

"You said you were making a cure!" Clint yelled, making Dr. Cho jump.

"These things take time, Clint. I will continue to monitor her condition and offer supportive care, but it may be time to call anyone she'd want to have here."

"Sh-she doesn't have anybody else! We're it! The people in this room, th-this t-t-team! We're all she has!" Clint yelled, sobbing now.

"Clint" Tony put a hand on his shoulder.

Clint shook, but didn't turn around.

"Clint, come on, buddy."

"She never got to do anything else! This is all she ever knew!" Clint cried, letting Tony pull him into a hug.

He'd never hugged Tony Stark before, Clint'd realize later. Tony was warm, and oddly soft. He smelled like Polo cologne and bourbon, no surprise there.

Tony let go of Clint and lead him out of the room. Steve followed quietly.

Peter, Dr. Cho, and Bruce quietly continued working on the cure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At some point, Peter wasn't sure what time it was, the only thing that mattered was finishing the cure, he heard a doorbell.

The fact that there was apparently a doorbell was outweighed by the fact that someone had somehow found their way out to the compound.

The door opened. Voices.

Peter kept working.

A while later, the doorbell rang again. The door opened. More voices.

Peter felt like he should be tired at this point, he had surely been awake more that 24 hours, but he felt alert and focused.

Doorbell. Voices. Work. That was all Peter knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're sure this will work?" Peter asked.

"Honestly, it's all we've got." Bruce said, putting the chemicals into the synthesizer.

It was just them now. Tony, Steve, and Clint hadn't come back after Clint's outburst, which was understandable, and Dr. Cho had gotten called out on urgent shield business. She'd promised to come back as soon as she was done.

"Now, we wait." Bruce turned on the machine, praying that he and Peter had done everything right.

Together, they walked out of the lab, both in desperate need of food and sleep.

However, Bruce nearly screamed when he walked into the living room. There were four times as many people as he remembered. Most of them seemed to be asleep, but on closer inspection, they were his friends.

Everybody was here. T'challa, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Bruce'd though she was still off world.

"Banner?" a familiar voice boomed softly.

"Thor?" Bruce turned to see the God of Thunder, who apparently still had a beer gut. They embraced.

"How is Lady Natasha?" Thor asked, guiding Bruce to the kitchen.

Remembering his lab partner, Bruce looked around to find Peter smushed in between Carol and Okoye, already fast asleep. Bruce made a mental note to call May.

"She's uh, she's not good, buddy." He said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You have an antidote? Correct?"

"Yeah, but it's not that easy, Thor. We had a sample of the toxin that's poisoning her, but I'm still not certain this particular antidote will even touch the damage that's already been done." Bruce sat down in a kitchen chair, accepting a cup of something from Thor. He wiped at his eyes, he hadn't even realized he was crying. He took a sip of what Thor had given him, tea.

"Lady Natasha is the strongest warrior I've met. Surely, she can best this toxin." Thor affirmed, pronouncing it like toxon instead of toxin.

"Will you not sleep like our Spider friend?" He nodded his head to the other room.

I don't even think I could sleep if I wanted too. When did you get here?" Bruce asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I arrived just after, ah I've traveled so much that I forget the earth word. Nogimslom, no. Slosjek, not quite. Ah! Midnight!" He said finally, looking pleased with himself.

"You're a traveler now?" Bruce yawned. He was suddenly exhausted.

"Yes! Since giving over the throne to Valkyrie, I've been working my way through each of the nine realms. I'm saving Earth for last, though. I wonder if I might settle here."

"Couldn't you still live in Asgard?"

"Oh, yes, but that place, even though the ground it stands on is new, holds too many ghosts for me." Thor looked sad for a moment.

"Wha-" Bruce yawned. "What time is it, Thor."

Thor once again searched his brain for the right word.

"Just after 4 a.m. I believe."

Thor's voice sounded funny now, like it was wavering.

"Th-Thor?" Bruce slurred, looking down at the cup of tea. It tasted different. "Did y-you drug me?" Bruce asked right before his eyes closed. Thor caught his head, lowering it to the table gently.

"My apologies, Tiny Banner, but Stark said this was the only way you would take to sleep." He took a deep breath, taking in his friend's tired face. He looked spent, even in sleep. Thor picked up Bruce and carried him to his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter woke up feeling warm. He opened his eyes slowly and just about jumped out of his skin. Groot the Tree was two inches from his nose.

"Dude! Personal space!"

"I am Groot!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Peter looked around, all of his friends were still there, most of them just waking up; yesterday hadn't been a dream then. Peter sighed, rubbed his face, and had a minor cardiac event when he remembered that A) it was Thursday and he should be in, he checked the clock, third period right now and B) He had forgotten to call May last night. He wasn't sure which realization was worse.

"Oh, crap." Peter sat forward, putting his head in his hands.

"Parker?" Someone said.

Peter looked up to see Carol looking back at him.

"Tony said I should tell you that he called May for you. She covered for you at school." Carol raised her coffee cup.

"Oh thank God."

"Yes?" Thor poked his head into the room.

"Now that's just pretentious." Sam quipped.

"What are you guys doing here?" Peter looked around.

"Clint sent out an urgent message, said Nat was sick and we should come home." Rhodey explained.

"Morning, kid." Tony greeted, handing Peter a cup of coffee. "Normally, I'm against caffeinating hyperactive, super human teens, but I think I can make an exception today."

Peter looked into the cup, milky brown, just the way he liked it.

"Has the synthesizer, uh, synthesized yet?" Peter asked.

"Not yet. I'm guessing about 3 or 4 more hours."

Peter groaned.

"I know, kid. I know."

"Is she still holding stable?" Bucky asked, coming up seemingly out of nowhere, trailed closely by Steve.

"Stable, as in, not any worse? Yes."

"Tell me there's something we can do? I'll literally go insane if I have to sit here and wait all day." Peter whined.

"You wanna help me in the shop?" Tony cocked an eyebrow.

"Always!" Peter smiled, remembering the fluid formula from yesterday. "I actually had something to run past you, and Bruce, wherever he is!" Peter's voice trailed off as he and Tony went to the workshop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce woke up with a start. It took his brain a moment to process where he was, and then it took it even longer to remember that the events of yesterday weren't some horrible dream.

He realized that he was in his bed, but without any memory of getting there. He was also still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

The conversation with Thor came back slowly. Oh, he had a big bone to pick with the God of Thunder.

After changing, Bruce walked downstairs into a gaggle of his friends. Still angry, Bruce tried to put the feeling aside and talk to his friends, many of whom who had just found out about Natasha.

Finally, he spotted Thor. Bruce stalked up to Thor and poked his chest.

"Hey! You drugged me!"

"Would you have slept, had I not?"

Bruce wanted to say yes, but knew the real answer, and he knew Thor knew the real answer, too.

"Whatever. Warn a guy next time." Bruce sighed.

"Would that not defeat the purpose?"

Bruce thought for a moment. "Uh, yeah. I guess it would." He laughed.

"Shall we breakfast, Banner?"

Bruce's stomach rolled at the thought of food, but he knew it had to have been at least 24 hours since he'd eaten.

"Definitely."

Bruce and Thor had just sat down to eat when Friday came over the intercom.

"Dr. Banner, Dr. Strange is asking for you in the med bay."

Bruce's blood ran cold as he took off for the med bay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Bruce!" Stephen yelled as Bruce skidded through the door. "It's her kindneys. Uremia. It caused another seizure."

Bruce didn't even stop running as he grabbed a syringe of ativan from the med cart. He plunged it into her newly hung IV bag and pushed the plunger.

A moment later, the tremors stopped.

He looked Natasha up and down. She looked much the same as yesterday, but her skin had a yellow tinge to it, liver failure.

"Oh my God, that's two seizures and a stroke. How is she going to make it out of this?" Bruce tried to suck in a deep breath, but there was suddenly a ten pound weight on his chest. His breathes came in short, rapid gasps that made his throat sore. Everything was loud. His brain was too loud.

"Bruce!" Stephen stepped in front of him, holding his hands out like he was afraid that Bruce might fall over. "Listen, I think you're having a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?"

"Yes." Bruce wheezed.

"Then you know how to steady yourself. You know you can make it through this. Just look at me, try to copy my breathing." Stephen said softly, taking exaggerated slow breaths.

Bruce tried to do as Stephen said, but his brain was still too loud. The noise was drowning out every rational thought. It was just a constant buzzing in his head.

"Bruce, can I touch you?" Stephen asked.

Bruce nodded.

Stephen put his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"We're going to breathe together, alright?"

Bruce nodded again. His breath was high pitched and wheezy now.

"In....and out....in....and out....in and......good job, Bruce." Stephen said gently, his voice sounding strange. Stephen Strange didn't usually do gentle. "Just keep doing that."

Bruce kept trying to breathe like Stephen showed him. Eventually, he wasn't hyperventilating anymore, although the uncomfortable weight was still on his chest and his stomach ached. He sank to the ground, Stephen squatting beside him.

"Th-that-that's not good. Another seizure is really bad." Bruce stammered.

"Do you want me to treat you like a doctor, or family?"

Bruce thought for a moment.

"D-doctor."

"Okay then. Natasha's organs are beginning to fail rapidly, due the toxin. Each seizure or stroke means less of a chance that she will be able to regain full brain function. She has a few hours, at best."

Bruce put his head in his hands. This couldn't be happening! She'd been fine 48 hours ago!

"The synthesizer has at least 3 hours left to go!"

"I think-" Stephen took a deep breath. "I think it's time to let everyone say their goodbyes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, everyone in the house came and went from the med bay. The day became a memorial to Natasha Romanoff, spy, friend, hero.

As the heart monitor beeps got further apart, almost everyone was gathered around Natasha's bed. Everyone except Bruce.

Bruce sat in the lab, waiting for the synthesizer to finish the cure. If Natasha Romanoff was going to die, it wasn't going to be because he quit trying.

He was sure that someone would be sent to give him the news at any moment, but Bruce kept waiting and hoping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint couldn't cry anymore. It wasn't that he wasn't sad, he was absolutely distraught, but he'd gone numb. His body was incapable of feeling any more grief.

He watched the spikes on the heart monitor get shorter and further apart. Looking around, he saw all of his friends, Nat's friends, no, her family. This was her family. Clint searched the room for a particular head of greying black hair, for possibly the only other person in the world that might understand and reciprocate his love for Natasha.

Where was Bruce?

He wasn't there. Natasha was dying and Bruce had apparently decided that he couldn't take it. Well, guess what, buddy? This wasn't one of those things he could just decide to not take.

Clint wheeled around and marched out of the room, his footsteps the only noise in the room besides the beeping of the monitors.

"Banner!" Clint yelled.

Bruce jumped, looking around.

"Is-is she-"

"Where do you get off thinking that you can't be in there with us, with her?"

"I-I-I'm waiting for th-the cure." Bruce stuttered.

"This is already hard enough, do you want to look back on this and say that you spent Natasha's last few hours in a lab? Or do you want to be able to say that you were right by her side? Come on, man!" Clint cried.

"I-I-I"

Then, three things   happened at once. 1) the synthesizer beeped, signaling the end of the mixing cycle, 2) a high pitched beeping started in the med bay, 3) Clint punched Bruce in the jaw.

Clint heard something crack under his fist.

No, it was his fist.

"Dammit!" Clint yelled, hugging his fist to his chest.

"Clint! What the fuck?" Bruce yelled, grabbing his jaw.

Both men groaned in pain for a moment.

They both seemed to hear the alarm at the same time.

"Oh God! Nat!" Clint said, horrified. He took off running.

Bruce started to follow, but somehow had enough presence of mind to grab the vial of liquid from the synthesizer.

Then, he ran after Clint.

Everyone was out in the hallway. Bruce pushed through the crowd roughly.

The alarm cut off abruptly just as Bruce skidded into the room.

Stephen, Tony, and Dr. Cho turned to see Bruce stumble to a stop. Clint stood behind them, over Natasha, but didn't turn around.

'Bruce-" Tony tried, he looked shell shocked.

"I-I got the-the cure." Bruce said breathlessly.

"Bruce, I'm so sor-"

"Don't-don't finish that sentence." Bruce said, an edge in his tone.

"Bruce, she's gone." Dr. Cho sighed, walking towards him.

"N-n-no. No! I-I-we got the cure! We got the cure!" Bruce yelled, running towards the hospital bed.

Tony and Stepen caught him, blocking his view.

"She's gone, buddy. She's gone." Tony sobbed.

"No! No!"

"Fuck, Bruce! Just-just stop!" Clint screamed, backing up and sinking into a squat against the wall. He buried his face in his hands, ugly sobs rocking his body.

"I-we-but-!" Bruce screamed. Finally, he sagged against Tony and Stephen.

"I never told her I love her." He whispered, sinking to the floor.

Through their legs, Bruce finally saw Natasha. She looked like she was sleeping.

"C-can-can I-" He cut off, a sob ripping through his chest.

"Yeah, buddy." Tony stepped to the side.

Stephen looked confused, but let it happen.

Bruce sat down on the bed, taking Natasha's hand in his. He put his hand on her wrist, praying that two doctors and a genius were somehow wrong. At first, he felt nothing, just cold skin. Then, he thought he might have finally lost it. There was a faint, slow pulse beating under his fingers.

"T-there's a-she's alive!" Bruce yelled, jumping back off of the bed.

"What?" Stephen said, he seemed to be the only one not in a state of total shell shock. He darted forward and put two fingers on Natasha's neck.

"He-he's right!" Stephen stood back in shock. "She has a pulse. It's weak, but it's there."

Clint looked up at his friends, trying to figure out if this was an incredibly cruel joke.

"Bruce!" Tony yelled.

Bruce turned to face Tony.

"If-if we-if she's got any kind of chance, she needs that cure!"

Bruce, feeling like he was having an out of body experience, bolted into action. He found an empty syringe in the medical supplies and pushed the air out of the tube. His hand shook violently, he thought he might break off the needle.

"M-my hands are shaking too much. Stephen, c-can you-" Bruce held the syringe and bottle of liquid out.

"Yes." Stephen nodded, taking the little bottle and syringe. He expertly drew the liquid up into the syringe. "Here we go." He took a deep breath, put the needle into Natasha's arm, and depressed the plunger.

For a moment, nothing happened. Looking back, Bruce thought it couldn't have been more than a minute, but just then, it felt like an eternity.

Everyone held their breath and watched as the first tiny, green spike displayed on the heart monitor.

Clint thought he might pass out, or scream, or cry. His body didn't seem to understand how to react. He stared at the spikes on the monitor.

"Is that-" Clint asked, standing up on shaky legs.

"Yeah. That-that's a heartbeat." Tony said, dumbfounded.

"She's alive." Bruce deadpanned.

"She's alive!" Clint screamed.

"What the fuck?!" Peter Parker yelled from the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, Natasha's vitals came back into the livable region and she was taken off of the ventilator. Now, the only thing left to do was to wait for her to wake up.

No one said it, but no one was certain that they'd be getting the same Natasha back.

Someone had eventually forced Tony, Clint, and Bruce to go sleep and get something to eat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint woke up feeling groggy and sore, his stressed muscles having turned to stone in his sleep.

"Agh" He groaned, sitting up and stretching.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Peter Parker flung the door open and simply stood in the doorway for a moment, looking either scared or constipated, Clint couldn't tell which.

"What? Is she-" Clint cut off, fearing the worst. His heart flung itself into his throat.

"She's, uh, Natasha. She's awake." He grinned.

She was awake. Natasha was awake!

Clint clambered out of bed and sprinted down the hall to the med bay.

Bursting through the door, he saw all of his friends, family, gathered around Natasha's bed.

The crowd parted. He saw Natasha's eyes. Clint couldn't stop the river of tears running down his face.

"Now, it's just like Budapest." She croaked, grinning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha hated almost dying. It had made her so weak. She could barely walk to the bathroom without almost passing out from the effort, let alone shower or, God forbid, go to the gym.

She'd been released to her room by Dr. Cho, on the condition that she not try to do anything strenuous by herself. She'd begrudgingly agreed. She'd thought that getting someone to help her would be the hard part, I mean, who wanted to watch her take a poop? No, apparently, the hard part was getting just one person to help her.

All of Natasha's friends became 100% invested in her recovery. They barely let her lift a finger without Dr's Cho, Strange, or Banner approving first.

Presently, she was in her bedroom with Clint, which was pretty much as close to being alone as she could get.

"Hey," Clint broke the comfortable silence between them, "Do you remember anything from being in the coma?"

"Some really weird dreams, maybe. Why?"

"So you don't remember me telling you that Laura's pregnant and we're asking you to be the Godmother?" Clint smirked impishly.

"No!" Natasha pulled a pillow from behind her and smacked Clint in the head. "I don't remember that! Way to bury the lead!"

Clint laughed.

"Wow!" Natasha mused, whistling. "Four kids? You'll have to get a mini van." She smiled.

"Don't remind me." Clint groaned, leaning his head against the head of the bed.

Comfortable silence consumed the room once again until Clint cut in again.

"Speaking of not telling each other things," Clint raised an eyebrow, smirking, "When were you going to tell me about whatever's going on betweeen you and Tiny Banner?"

"Don't know what you mean." Natasha said coolly, trying not to smile.

"You know, for a spy, you're a really bad liar." Clint nudged her shoulder.

"I'm, um, I'm figuring it out."

Clint waited.

"He makes me happy." She smiled softly, looking up at Clint through her lashes. "Something in me figured out that I deserve to be happy." She shrugged.

"It's about damn time!" Clint grinned.

"Shut up!" Natasha smacked his arm.

He was right though, it was about time that Natasha let herself be happy, and maybe it had taken almost dying to figure that out.

"Clint?" She said, yawning.

"Hmm?"

"Can you hit the lights?" She slid down in the bed.

Getting the message, Clint nodded. He walked over to turn out the lights and returned to Natasha's bed and crawled back under the covers.

So, Natasha slept, thankful for a best friend that loved her, a good man that loved her and would go to the ends of the earth for her, and a found family for whom distance never mattered.

#badthingshappenbingo #MCU #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #Prompt: Find the Cure

[fawndlymade]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Written for a tumblr prompt "Things said through your teeth".

Blake had been dreading this day since the day she had enrolled at Beacon Academy. The day when her teammates found out about her true heritage. She had never expected them to take it well (especially when one was on the same team as Weiss Schnee of all people.)

But this.

She had never expected this.

Sure, she had been grateful at first when Yang had brushed it off with an ease that still astounded her. But the longer it went on, the angrier Blake got. Cat pun after pun after pun. Yang always putting tuna fish sandwiches in front of her, or glasses of milk. Leaving little rubber mice around the dorm. Dusting various objects with catnip and dangling bits of yarn in front of her.

The more it happened, the hotter the ball of rage burned in Blake’s chest, threatening to consume her. And while she’d never admit it out loud… The more it hurt. Like she was the butt of the joke that everyone found funny but her. Yang always seemed to get a kick out of it, and even Ruby and Weiss had gotten a few laughs out of a nicely timed ’cat got your tongue, Blake?’

The final straw came one morning when Blake had been rummaging around in the closet for her bow. She had taken to leaving it off while lounging about the dorm, but she had plans to go out into town today and still wasn’t completely comfortable without it while in public. And then a bright red dot had entered her vision, flicking back and forth in front of her. Startled, Blake had automatically tried to swipe at it, only to hear the roaring laughter of her partner and her two teammates. Her friends.

“You missed, Blakey~” Yang chuckled, jiggling the laser pointer in her hands. “C'mon, you can get it~ Just a bit to the…. Left. Blake..?” She pocketed the laser pointer, nearly flinching back at the venom in Blake’s gaze. “A-are you okay, Blake?”

Blake lifted her head to meet Yang’s inquiring stare, her eyes burning with tears that she refused to let fall. “I’m not an animal,” she hissed through her teeth, hands balled up at her sides. “Just because I’m a faunus doesn’t mean you can treat me like one, Yang!”

The blonde stepped back, purple eyes wide in surprise. “Blake, I didn’t mean it like- I didn’t think-”

Blake scowled, wiping furiously at her eyes. “I thought you were different. I thought all of you were different!” She glanced at her other two teammates; Weiss had an apologetic look on her face, while Ruby looked ready to cry. “I might as well just call you Cardin Winchester!”

Yang reeled back as if slapped. “Blake, wait, just hold on!” the brawler pleaded. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t think you’d-”

“You didn’t think, obviously!” the faunus snarled, teeth bared and amber eyes narrowed to the point that her pupils were only small slivers. She shoved her way past her frozen partner, slamming the door shut behind her and cutting off the blonde’s cry of “wait!”

She needed to get out of the dorm for a bit. Away from her so called friends so that she could calm down. Ignoring the heavy footsteps behind her, Blake ran.

And ran.

And ran.

Once the red had left her vision Blake slowed to a stop, panting slowly from the long run. She could no longer hear Yang following her either. As she lifted her head up, Blake took in the signs and various shops around her. She must have used her flash step to get all the way out here, because somehow Blake had wound up on one of the main drags in the city of Vale. Uncertain of what to do and unwilling to go back to the dorms just yet, Blake decided to meander through the city and kill time until she had to face the inevitable showdown.

Deep in her musings of what to do, it wasn’t long before Blake found herself on the shadier side of the city. And of course, a lone faunus wandering into seedy territory was too easy to not take advantage of. The brunette’s ears perked up as soon as she heard the catcalls from a small group of male humans walking down the street towards her.

“Hey there pussycat!”

“Here kitty, kitty! Why dontcha come over this way? I got some cream for you right here!”

“Dayum, I wouldn’t mind being your scratching post!”

Freezing in place, Blake automatically reached up to feel for her bow. Only, it wasn’t there. She had left it back in the dorm in her haste to get away from Yang. A spike of fear shot down her spine, and she quickly turned heel to walk back the way she came. The jeers followed her, taunting her. Just like every time she had gone out as a child without her bow to keep her ears hidden from sight. It was humans like these fine fellows that reminded her of why she kept her heritage hidden.

A hand on her shoulder stopped her. “I bet you’re a real animal in bed, how about you come back to my place and we can- Urk!”

Golden flames caught Blake’s attention as the hand on her shoulder was forcibly removed. A very angry looking Yang was gripping the man’s wrist in a rather tight looking hold. Red eyes were narrowed in obvious disgust at the man who was whimpering in her grasp.

“I think you should apologize to my friend here and be on your merry way. Don’t you?” Yang said, her voice low. She punctuated the end of her sentence with a small squeeze, and Blake swore she could hear bones grinding together.

“Agh, fuck- stop- okay! We’re sorry! Just let go!”

“Yang, enough.” Blake whispered. A wave of exhaustion washed over her and she wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to quell her nerves.

The blonde immediately let go of the man, who scampered over to his friends. She turned to her partner, the crimson slowly bleeding away from her eyes as concerned purple took over. “Are you okay?” she asked, doing a quick scan over Blake. “Did they hurt you?”

“No more than you did,” Blake replied wryly. She almost cringed at the hurt on Yang’s face, regretting her words instantly. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t. I deserved that.” Blake found herself drawn into a tight hug, Yang’s arms winding around her to hold her in place. She could hear the blonde sniffling into her shoulder. “God, I’m so sorry Blake. I wasn’t… I was just trying to lighten things up. I never meant to let it get that far, I was just joking around. I never wanted to- to hurt you!”

The last vestiges of Blake’s anger faded away as Yang’s tears began to dampen her shirt. As much as she wanted to stay mad at Yang, the feline found herself unable to hold onto her anger in the face of Yang’s obvious regret and distress. She patted Yang’s back awkwardly. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Is this what you go through? What all faunus go through? God, Blake, if I had known- I can’t believe those guys said all of that stuff to you!” Blake shivered as she felt the brawler’s body heat up against her.

“It doesn’t usually happen so obviously out in the open like this… But yes,” she said, voice quiet. “There’s a reason I didn’t tell you or the team when we first met. People like those men. People like Cardin and Weiss before she came around. People like-” she stopped herself, but Yang caught on, shoving herself away from Blake.

“People like me.” The loathing in Yang’s voice had Blake shaking her head.

“No.” Blake grabbed Yang’s hands in her own, running her fingers over rough hands. Rough and calloused, but also warm and caring and nurturing. Just like the blonde herself. “You were never malicious in what you were saying. That’s the difference between you and Cardin. You just… Need to watch your words. I’m not an animal, Yang. I may have cat ears, but I am not a pet.”

“I know, I promise! No more cat jokes!” Yang swore fervently. “I swear, Blake. I don’t want to ever hurt you again. I lo-” she cut herself off, and Blake was rather confused to see Yang’s face turn pink. Clearing her throat, Yang continued, “is there any way I can make it up to you?” she asked earnestly.

Thinking about it (and taking just long enough for Yang to begin to sweat) Blake finally nodded, giving Yang a serious look and delighting in the nervous gulp it got her. “You’re going to.. take me out for dinner next week.”

“I- What?”

Blake gave the dumbfounded blonde a small smile, turning to start the long trek back to Beacon. “You heard me. Next week after class. And make sure the place has seafood, got it?”

“O-okay!” Yang jogged after her partner, reaching forward to grab the girl’s arm gently. Amber eyes looked up into purple ones, puzzled as they both came to a stop. “And Blake? Thank you..”

“For?”

“Forgiving me. I really am sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Feeling the weight in her chest completely disappear, Blake couldn’t help but give Yang an amused smirk. “Well, I guess the only thing left to say is… A-paw-logy accepted.”

“Blake!”

#my writing #bumbleby #rwby #trying to get my writing tag filled up again

[renaroo]

Double Time (7/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Aaaand now we’re getting to the antagonists of the evening. I’m curious to see how many saw them coming ; ) 

Special thanks to @analiarvb, @thepheonixqueen, @cobaltqueen, @icefrozenover, @notatroll7, @secretlystephaniebrown, @freshzombiewriter, @ashleystlawrence, @a-taller-tale, Kiwibat, Kairachar1869, Yin, and @washingtonstub on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

Threats as They Come

There was a part of Washington that was disappointed when he came through the window at four that morning and, rather than finding Tucker awake waiting for him, was instead met with the awkward silence of his partner soundly sleeping. 

Even if it had become more and more often that these were the way things were, and even though Wash easily rationalized it by remembering Tucker worked still, after all, he felt a certain pang about it.

Which was nothing compared to the headache he got when the blinds were pulled open and the bedroom light came on only three hours later. 

“Agh!” Wash groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

“Sorry to interrupt the catnap,” Tucker said sarcastically. 

“Most people call it regular sleep but alright,” Wash said, rubbing at his face crankily. “Seriously, though, Tucker, what the hell...?”

“We need to talk,” Tucker announced, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was fully dressed in his work uniform, arms crossed in the sort of aggravated way that reminded Wash of a school teacher for some reason. 

“Right now?” Wash asked critically. “I just went to bed,” he double checked the clock to make sure he wasn’t pulling the number out of thin air, “three hours ago.”

“Uh huh,” Tucker replied testily. “I guess that’s only a problem when our moments cut into my sleep schedule and not yours, right? I mean, shit, you save the world and help little ol’ ladies cross the street. I’m just a fucking fry cook. What’s my time worth?”

Finally pushing into a sitting position, Wash took a sharp inhale of air and looked tiredly at Tucker. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that... this seems sudden. And I don’t know if talking while angry is a wise choice.”

“Good thing we’re arguing and not talking then,” Tucker snapped.

“We’re arguing?”

“Oh my god, you are so fucking obtuse,” Tucker actually laughed -- but it wasn’t the warm cackle that Wash knew and had grown to feel warmth spread through him at. It was sharp and scathing. Like Tucker’s current tone. “We’ve been arguing for weeks.”

“Weeks?” Wash questioned. “What? Is this going back to the car thing? Do I need to apologize for not being in on your inside joke with your friends?”

Tucker stared at him like he had just spoken in another language for a few minutes. “Oh my god, so fucking obtuse.”

Rubbing at his face, Wash sighed. “Okay, I’ll need you to walk me through this--”

“I don’t want you in on our inside jokes, idiot, I want you to have inside moments with us! And not bail on us by literally rather throwing yourself out of a moving car than have to spend some of your precious free time in our company,” Tucker replied angrily. 

Genuinely confused, Wash sat up further. “You’re mad because you want me to be friends with your friends? Even if there’s nothing that we all have in common?”

“No! Wash, dammit!” Tucker groaned grabbing at his hair. “Don’t you get it? I want us to spend time together! Like actually together!”

“We do,” Wash said firmly.

“Not enough that you think of me and Junior as being, I don’t know...” Tucker shook his head harshly. “You... You don’t think of Junior as anything but my kid.”

“Of course he’s your kid,” Wash replied. 

“He worships you, dude!” Tucker cried out. “Do you know how much time he spends every night telling me how awesome you are and how excited he is every time there’s a new training exercise or compliment thrown his way. And god, you put him on that superhero team. He’s on cloud nine!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Wash tried very hard to keep up with the source of the complaint. “Wait, what’s wrong with all of those things?”

“I’m trying to tell you to think of us as your family, asshole!” Tucker snapped. 

“You think I don’t?” Wash asked skeptically.

“I don’t think outside of superhero business, you’ve spent much time with us as anything else. And we fucking live with you, dude,” Tucker pointed out. “And you know why? It’s because you have tried nothing outside of being a superhero. You have, like, no separation between being a superhero and being here with us. Or on the street. Or in the goddamn mayor’s office because your superhero name is just your last name for some godforsaken reason.” 

Frowning a bit, Wash held up a finger. “To be fair, I was assigned that name in Freelancer. I never found out if it was coincidence or a terrible joke.”

“This argument’s a joke,” Tucker said, throwing up his hands.

“You’re the one who started it,” Wash attempted to argue only to have Tucker waggle a finger at him. 

“Don’t try to be cute or sarcastic, my point still stands!”

Growing exhausted of the exchange, Wash held up his hands. “What point? What do you want from me, Tucker? I do think of you all as my family. I just. I don’t know how to... civilian anymore. It’s been a very long time since it was relevant to my interests.”

“Is it relevant now?” Tucker asked. “Are we relevant to your interests?”

“Yes,” Wash said without hesitation. “But I still don’t know what you want from me, Tucker.”

"You’re asking for me to literally spell this out for you,” Tucker remarked dully.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Wash replied more snappishly than he would have liked, but his frustration was only growing. 

“I don’t know,” Tucker said, folding his arms across his chest again.

“Oh, don’t make me beg, I’m trying to meet you on your own terms here,” Wash half begged.”

Tucker looked at him almost apologetically. “No, I mean, I don’t actually know.”

Washington stared at him for a good long moment before letting his temper actually flare up. 

“What do you mean you don’t actually know? What does that mean? You’re the one who is mad at me! Not the other way around here!” 

“I know!” Tucker yelled back.

“Obviously, you don’t!” Wash squeaked out before rubbing his face. “Oh my god, we are literally fighting over nothing and I’m tired--”

“It’s not all about you! That’s what we’re fighting about!” Tucker yelled back. “No fight in the history of ever has been about nothing Wash! You wanna know what we’re fighting over? It’s that you still can’t get out of the mentality that it’s just you!”

“That’s not true,” Wash scoffed. “I’m very concerned about you and about Junior -- I love spending time with Junior, working with him, drawing with him.”

“All of those things you just described doing with my son? They’re all superhero related,” Tucker replied coarsely. “You connect to us on a purely superheroic level, and I want -- I need to know that you’re not going to get tired of us if there’s no threat of us becoming dudesels in distress anymore. That if you’re not being a superhero, you’re going to be our Wash. Because if not... That’s not a relationship, Wash.”

“What’re you saying?” Wash asked, voice growing quiet and timid despite himself. “Tucker, what’re you saying here?”

“I’m saying you’re more than a hero to us, Wash,” Tucker replied tiredly. “It’d be nice to know and feel like that wasn’t all we were to you.”

That was something that Wash could understand. 

“What do I need to do to make sure you know that then?” Wash asked. “Because I promise you that you’re so much more to me than just that. Absolutely, completely. And I will prove it.” 

For the first time that day, Tucker cracked a smile. “Oh, yeah? Just like that?” 

“Yes, just like that,” Wash replied. “What do you need me to do in order to prove just how much I mean it?”

Tucker gave him an appraising look, as if he could somehow inspect Wash’s face and assess his truthfulness. 

At the moment, Wash wasn’t entirely sure he couldn’t do just that.

Finally, though, he smirked and pointed at Wash. “You are going to get yourself and Junior over to the diner when I get off shift at three this afternoon and we’re going to prove this is a family kinda thing by having linner.”

After a moment of passing silence, Wash tilted his head. 

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked worriedly. “I... Is that something I should be familiar with?”

Tucker rolled his eyes so far that his head followed them. “Oh, my god, Wash. You’ve never heard of linner?”

Squinting, Wash worried that he was missing something genuinely important. “No?”

“Linner -- it’s between lunch and dinner. Obviously. Duh,” Tucker replied. 

“What? Like brunch?” Wash tried to clarify. 

“Yeah, duh. Breakfast-lunch and lunch-dinner, and if you’re super dedicated to the three meals per day you’ve got that dinfast--”

“You are literally making things up right in front of my face right now,” Wash surmised. “Linner is not a thing.”

“It absolutely is a thing, ask anyone who has worked in dining services! What do you eat after you get off the lunch rush shift? Linner. Duh. Trust me on this, mister-didn’t-even-know-you-could-put-hot-sauce-in-eggs.”

“Which is still weird,” Washington clarified.

“No, it’s not, it’s delicious,” Tucker said, voice eased back into that comfortable banter that had Washington believing that they were perhaps finally over whatever hill they had been on just a few moments earlier. “We’ll have linner at the diner and then I’ll be happy with the progress.”

“Progress being...” Wash pressed.

“You being human as much as you’re superhuman, Wash,” Tucker pushed. “C’mon. You’ve gotta know that what we were doing before now... it’s been very one-sided.”

“You want me to get some kind of job and hide what I’m doing all the time?” Wash tried to catch up. “I already wear sunglasses--”

“I just want you to have a life, Wash, jesus christ, calm down,” Tucker said, beginning to edge back into irritability.

"Says the man who’s been yelling at me for about two weeks,” Wash replied flatly. When Tucker didn’t let up, he gave a defeated sigh and leaned back into the pillows behind him. He was way too tired. “Linner will start me on the path toward humanity in your eyes again?”

“Linner will start you on the path to behaving like a proper person in general, yes,” Tucker said, sounding pleased. “I’d have offered brunch, but I suspect you’re about to sleep in until about one.”

“Just one?” Wash mused, eyes already sliding closed. 

“Yes, just one, because that’s when I told Junior to make sure you started getting ready for linner. So you’re not getting out of this any time fast, Wash. You’re stuck with your promises while you’re with me,” Tucker chuckled. 

“Mmph,” Wash responded, which might have at one point almost formed something similar to a sentence prior to his head hitting the pillows. 

Practically drained of any emotional and physical energy, Wash wasn’t sure if he would have made it through another argument even Tucker had continued trying. But even in the haze of approaching sleep, he noted the shifting of the mattress as Tucker got up and of the brush of a hand through his hair. 

“Alright, you big dummy, sleep or something already. We’ll work on your human exercises later,” Tucker promised.

Before the bedroom door was bothered, Wash was out again, but a weight he hadn’t even realized was there was all but gone. He truly felt as though he could breathe again. And he was more than ready to have a frankly restful sleep. 

At least, he was until the door came flying open what felt like only seconds later and slammed against the door. 

Alarmed, Wash leaped to his feet on the bed and looked toward the door.

“Wash!” Tucker yelled.

“What!? What!?” Washington demanded, feeling dizzy with confusion -- had the conversation just finished? Was he dreaming? What happened? Tucker was wearing the same outfit from before and--

“On the news!” Tucker said, rushing over and grabbing Wash’s wrist before yanking him toward the television room. “There’s some asshole on the news!”

“What?” Wash asked, dreariness setting in again. “There’s always an asshole on the news? What’s special--”

Washington came to a stop, sobering up from his sleepiness as soon as his eyes landed on the news report flashing across the screen. It was the court house in the middle of the city, and it was literally burning, a dark figure stand on top of it in black and green. 

Alarmed and surprised, Wash leaned toward the screen and read the alerts at the bottom. 

Professed Supervillain Calls For Freelancer Superhero Washington

Tucker was past hysteric. “Who the fuck is that?” 

“Don’t know,” Wash said, going for his hidden closet for his fresh suit. “I’m going to find out, though.”

“You can’t be serious,” Tucker blanched. “But--”

“But nothing, this is part of the superhero job,” Wash replied, putting on his visor. “I take it almost as seriously as linner.” When he looked to Tucker he was disappointed to not find a smirk. “I’ll make it to the diner. Promise.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about now,” Tucker replied sourly. “Aren’t you exhausted? You’ve only slept, like, four hours!”

“Three, but who’s counting,” Wash said, heading for the downstairs exit where his motorcycle was waiting. “Don’t worry, I’ll take a cat nap after.”

“And then make it to linner,” Tucker pressed, less conviction in his voice than before.

“Absolutely,” Wash promised before getting on his bike and heading off.

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: Hero Time #RvB: Double Time #Agent Washington #Tuckington #Lavernius Tucker