#falling to my knees punching air sobbing crying my eyes out

[drenched-in-sunlight]

thinking about how the Guidance of Grace in Land of Shadow never points us to where Messmer is (the one at Divine Beast arena points towards the sealed gate aka a dead end). It’s Leda and Dane’s notes that tell us to head East and target him.

Guidance only picks up again after Messmer is defeated 🥲

If you think about it, he never commented on how we were following guidance of the Erdtree like Leda did, he started the fight simply because he wouldn’t accept us as Marika’s Lord. Which means he knows we are not there on his Mother’s guidance (& it’s true, we aren’t)

And it reminds me of his final dialogue again. Since he’s destroyed her blessing, he could only now be a curse. And so he bound himself to her once more with his last breath.

I feel like that’s how Marika knows - a whole world away in her own prison of punishment and crucifixion - and she accepts his curse. In a way, they are reunited once more.

So guidance of grace picks up again, her son’s sacrifice would not be in vain. It would not be for nothing. Miquella’s misguided path to Godhood would be stopped.

It’s not that Leda failed to see who was guiding us at first, it’s simply that the Erdtree never guides us until AFTER Messmer boss fight.

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 03

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genres: college au. slowburn!

Warnings: drugs. mention of abuse, abusive household, fighting, screaming, crying, reader is down bad.. unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, making out, throwing up, fluff if you kinda squint, love confession, angst, banter between them both, cussing, Jungkook sucks at showing his feelings, complicated relationship, flashbacks.

a/n: hi.. sorry this took longer to put out but finals week is here— but here🥳 i recommend reading the first parts before this for it to make more sense k bye bye🤍

01 02 playlist board

The aching feeling in your chest didn’t disappear; it only increased the more you cried. Your palm clawed your chest, soothing over your clothes as if it would help lessen the pain. Your heart felt like it was getting repeatedly run over by a train. Each time you would gasp for air, another heartbreaking sob came flowing out of your mouth. It was crazy how down bad you are over this boy.

Seeing the person you love the most lose themselves to drugs was the most heart-wrenching pain you have ever experienced. The worst thing was you were losing yourself over him.

“I want a big house, with all that white picket fence shit,” you say, your hands playing with his hair as he melts into your touch.

“Not happening, baby,” he chuckles, his hand on your waist squeezing. “And I want a ring the size of my fist,” you ignore him, extending a hand out, imagining how a ring would look on your ring finger. “We’re not getting married or getting a house,” he rasps out, a hint of amusement displayed on his face matching yours.

“I think we should get a dog as well, don’t you think?” You continue, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “There would be no dog, and house, baby. Because I will be in jail after trying to rob a bank to pay for your big-ass ring,” Jungkook states, tilting his head to the side to drop a kiss on your cheek, the gesture sending your heartbeat skyrocketing in your chest.

“So you do want to get married!?” You jest happily, tugging on his hair playfully, making him let out a low groan before shaking his head, laughing. His laugh was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

The memory was like a punch into your gut, over and over again without stopping. Him leaving you on the floor of your room crying keeps replaying in your mind. The thought of him actually leaving never crossed your mind until now. He always comes back, you thought to yourself as you pick yourself up from the ground. Your knees weaken as another cry rakes through your body as you drop onto your bed face down.

As much as you wanted to run after him, you knew better not to. Your self-respect was hanging by a thread, and you were scared of what you would do if you see him at this very moment. The thought of you on your knees begging him to change burned in your mind.

You knew love shouldn’t be this hard, but that didn’t stop your mind from trying to convince you otherwise. Memories of him started circulating around your head, sending a strong shot of pain to spread through your body. You try your best to control your sobs, but it is almost useless as sixteen-year-old Jungkook appears in your mind.

“Hi,” you quip, skipping towards him.

“Hi,” he says, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Finally, I see you again. You aren't in my homeroom.” You pout, noticing how his eyes go from your eyes to your lips to your body. “That's good, no? I wouldn't want to be a distraction.” He flirts almost nonchalantly, which sends a swarm of butterflies to flap around your stomach. You bite your lip before crossing your legs.

“Do you always flirt with every woman that comes up to you?” You tilt your head to the side, letting your hair fall beautifully over your shoulders, making Jungkook admire.

“Nah, only with cute girls I met on the first day of school in the front office after she got in a fight with someone for ripping holes in her tights,” Jungkook shrugs. You smile as you look him up and down. His hair is messy but not so messy that it looked like he got in a fight. His uniform fitted his body perfectly, making you jealous that girls got to look at him. His tie was tied neatly around his neck—but your mind was playing tricks with you as you imagined him using his tie in other ways that weren't exactly appropriate, but that's what reading Wattpad did to a girl.

“Is that so?” you chuckle as you watch him nod.

“What's your type?” he asks, catching you off guard. Your hands play with the hem of your skirt. “Dimples, brown eyes...” You tap your chin as you playfully look up as if you were thinking. “I like them tall as well. How tall are you?” you ask him, pointing at him, waiting for his reply. “Five ten,” he replies casually, amusement clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, I like them five ten.”

You felt as if you had a ball stuck in your throat. The more you tried to calm down, another batch of fresh tears pooled down your eyes. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears mixed with your mascara leaving streaks of black all over your cheeks. Before you knew it, you fell asleep with a broken heart.

Jungkook's hand shakes as he lights up the cigarette between his lips, his body craving the drugs. Instead of running to his dealer's house, he imagines your distraught face. He takes a large puff from the stick, letting it fill his lungs, but it's not enough. His tattooed hand tugs on his hair-body shaking, which he would like to think is from the cold, trying to ignore the fact he's going through withdrawals.

He didn't dare go home; he couldn't face his mom. He knew he would lose his mind if he saw another bruise decorating her skin. Another chill ran down his spine as he exhaled. His muscles ached, and sweat started to form on his forehead. The feeling of wanting to throw up was almost unbearable. Before he knew it, he was puking over a bush. He couldn't catch his breath before another roar of vomit came rushing out of him.

"It's fine," Jungkook repeated under his breath. Before he knew it, his feet moved towards the only person who could help him.

"You look like shit, buddy," Yoongi chuckles. "The regular?" He raised an eyebrow, and Jungkook nodded eagerly, his hands shaking as he watched Yoongi pull out a small bag of white circular pills-oxycodone.

"Here." Yoongi shoved the bag into Jungkook's hand, harshly taking the dollar bills from him and counting them.

"Thanks," Jungkook nodded, his feet moving to the door before stopping abruptly.

"That pretty girl that's always running behind you, that's your girl?" Yoongi says, licking a piece of paper with his tongue before rolling it up into a perfect small joint. Jungkook's body stiffened; he didn't like the fact that Yoongi knew who you were and that he mentioned you as pretty sent a chill down his body.

"Nah, she's just someone I know from school," Jungkook says, his voice stoical, showing zero emotion as he lies through his teeth. "Why?" Jungkook added a couple of seconds later. A small smirk appeared on Yoongi's face.

"She came looking for me," Yoongi starts, placing the rolled-up paper between his lips while his other hand uses a lighter to light it up. He blows a couple of times before he takes a hit, letting it fill his airways.

"She told me she'd give me a shit ton of money if I stop selling to you." Yoongi chuckles the words out, making Jungkook's throat close up and his lungs stop working.

"She also told me to go 'fuck myself," Yoongi mocks you in a high-pitched voice before bursting into laughter. "She's fucking bad, though. She had this tiny ass skirt-and her tits, man-" Yoongi whistles lowly.

Before Jungkook knew it, he was striding towards Yoongi, yanking the joint out of his mouth and throwing it somewhere around the room. Jungkook's hands gripped both sides of Yoongi's shirt, pulling him upwards from the couch.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk. About. Her," Jungkook seethes, his jaw clenched as Yoongi lets out a surprised gasp.

"Don't even fucking look at her." Jungkook shakes Yoongi. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi pushes Jungkook off. The smirk he always had plastered on his face is long gone, replaced by a shocked expression.

"Listen here, whatever the fuck I got to do with you has nothing to do with her. I don't give a single fuck if she came up to you. Next time you ever see her, don't even glance her way, don't even breathe near her. Because I promise you l will fucking kill you. I'm not scared of jail." Jungkook growls before pushing Yoongi back onto the couch.

Before he could reply, Jungkook strode for the door and slammed it shut.

Jungkook's heart rapidly beats in his chest. The adrenaline and anger fueling his body has him cursing under his breath. As much as Jungkook wanted to punch Yoongi straight in the jaw, he knew things wouldn't end well. So instead, he walked straight to the house where he knew was the last place he should go.

It was almost five in the morning when a small sound woke you from your sleep. Your head pounded, and your body and heart felt numb. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, blinking fast as you caught a shadow outside your window. Immediately, you shot up from your bed.

Your heart started again as you rushed to open the window. With a small gasp, you pulled the boy inside your room.

“You’re here! Are you okay?” You took hold of his face, checking him frantically. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face and made him look at you. His eyes bored into yours—the small glittering light in his eyes sparkled for a second before being replaced with empty eyes, almost angry.

“I’m not high,” he groaned, removing your hand from his face. You let them fall beside you with a small, weathery breath.

“That’s good.” You sniffed, but he stepped back when you reached for him, as if your touch was poison. He felt distant and gone, like he wasn’t really in front of you. “You met Yoongi,” he said, his tone cold, lacking the warmth he always used when talking to you.

“I did,” you nodded, your eyes welling up with tears threatening to spill at any moment. “He told me what you did.” His voice was almost nonchalant, which sent a shiver down your body. He was slipping through your fingers like water, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

“You went to him?” you said, your hands forming into fists beside you as you pressed your nails into your palms, possibly leaving red marks.

“None of your business,” he replied. “I don’t know what sort of shit you tried to pull, but never fucking do it again,” Jungkook bluntly stated.

“You always say it’s not my fucking business, but it fucking is.” You gritted your teeth, anger bubbling in your stomach.

“How the fuck would that be any of your business? From what I recall, we are nothing.” He scoffed, his heart cracking in his chest as the words left his mouth, watching your face fall before recovering.

“Why the fuck are you here, then? It is my fucking business,” You said, tone deadly.

“It is my fucking business because I fucking care about you, Jungkook! You might not notice it, but I love you. I’m so tired of acting like I don’t when all I want is you. I just want you. You.” You cried almost erratically, Jungkook's mouth opening before closing.

“I love you,” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face just like the raindrops on your closed window. “I know you do too; if not, you wouldn’t be here.” A shaky breath left you as you wiped your eyes with a sniffle.

Jungkook’s heart suddenly felt lighter, but the pain in his body didn’t go away. When your words left your mouth, his heart stopped, and the thoughts he came to tell you about were long forgotten. He looked at your puffy, smudged mascara eyes and your pouty lips that begged to be kissed, making the thoughts in his head vanish into thin air.

“You don’t mean that,” Jungkook finally said, and you could almost hear the faint sound of your heart cracking at his words.

Before you could reply, Jungkook dropped onto his knees, shaking. It was pathetic how fast you dropped beside him, getting a hold of his body. “I’m going to die, fuck.” Jungkook shook in your arms, closing his eyes with a loud curse. “Fuck, fuck,” Jungkook growled. You frantically touched him; his body was burning up as he shook in your arms.

“What’s going on?” you cried, coaxing him. Small reassuring ‘you're going to be okay’ left your mouth repeatedly as you held him tight to your chest while he shook and whimpered in pain. “Fuck, need this to go away,” Jungkook shook as he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small bag of pills. His hands shook as he tried to open the bag, fumbling.

“Baby, help me. I need this to go away.” Jungkook cried, tears rushing down his face as he struggled to open the bag.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped past your mouth as you noticed the position you were in. It was like a scene in a film. Jungkook shook his head repeatedly as you took the bag out of his hands and placed it behind you, somewhere he couldn’t reach. “Help me,” Jungkook pleaded, his calloused hands tight on your waist as he shut his eyes in agonizing pain.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your fingers wiping his tears.

“Make it go away,” Jungkook cried, the most vulnerable you had ever seen him as he begged you to give him the drugs. It was like you were stuck in a love triangle with him and his last drug of choice.

Jungkook looked at you, his face desperate. “Make it go away,” he pleaded. And that’s exactly what you did, just not in the way Jungkook was thinking. Your lips smashed into his, making his eyes widen before fluttering closed, melting into you.

His tense shoulders immediately relaxed, dropping as the furrowed crease between his forehead softened.

As your lips molded with his perfectly, Jungkook felt his walls start to drop, brick by brick. Your hands held his face tightly, each kiss feeling like a battleground where you both fought with your mouths instead of words. The taste of bitterness mingled with the intoxicating sweetness of longing-a drug that left Jungkook craving more as you tore apart to catch your breath.

Heat surged through your veins, a fiery storm of conflicting emotions raging within. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a hunger you couldn't deny, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. Before you could say anything, Jungkook grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your body melted against his, a wave of warmth flooding your senses as his lips met yours again.

It was a moment you had dreamed of, yearned for with every fiber of your being, and now it was here, surpassing all of your wildest expectations. Time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious second of it.

"Use me," you moaned between the kisses as you gasped for air.

"Forget about everything and just focus on me." You gasped as his lips shut you up once again.

His hands caged your face as his lips molded against yours. Tongues danced together, exploring each other with an unspoken hunger, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.

"Fuck, I should've kissed you sooner," Jungkook groaned, his hand sliding gently into your hair. He tugged it back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as his lips found a new place to explore.

His head dipped to your neck, peppering kisses all over. A soft moan left your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, leaving a red-purple mark on your collarbone. "So pretty," he said before capturing your lips with his again.

As your lips molded together, a surge of clarity washed over him, drowning out the incessant whispers of addiction that had haunted his mind for so long. With each kiss, the cravings faded into oblivion, replaced by a singular focus- you.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jungkook groaned as your lips made contact with his neck. The sucking sensation of your lips had him throwing his head back with a heavy sigh. His hands tightened on your waist before pulling you up from the floor onto his lap. "I don't care," you breathed out, pulling him in closer to you. A loud groan ripped out of Jungkook as you sucked on the nape of his neck.

"Baby, I don't wanna take advantage of you," Jungkook said between kisses as you held his face to kiss him roughly. A sudden wave of heat rushed down to your center as Jungkook tried to pull back, only for his bulge to rub against you.

"Use me," you moaned, your arms pulling him into you.

His head rested over your chest, listening to your heartbeat. A shiver ran down his spine at your words.

"Baby, please," he pleaded, his eyes shut from the pleasure of your hips rubbing against him at a slow, almost agonizing pace. All he could think of was you.

"Look at me," you said, your hands holding his face to make him look at you. The once dull, empty eyes he came in with were now long gone, replaced with a sad, almost yearning look. His pupils were dilated as he looked at your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," you started. He nodded, his face the most vulnerable you had ever seen on him, which created a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"And I want you to use me," you confessed, your voice trembling with honesty.

As your lips lingered against his, you breathed out the words, your voice a gentle plea, "Let me be the one you turn to when the cravings hit, the one who reminds you of all the reasons to stay, because every time you choose me over drugs, you're choosing yourself. You're choosing us."

Jungkook fumbled with his bottom lip, biting it as he felt his heart slowly start to mend itself. He was sure when he left your room earlier that day that you would never want to talk to him again. But here you were, not giving up on him, instead believing in him. Jungkook's lip trembled before a tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. The words hang in the air, the complete opposite of how your heart is feeling. Before you can reply, he's pulling on your shirt and smashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss was desperate, filled with unspoken words and emotions. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to have any distance between you. His hands clutch at you as if you're his lifeline, grounding him in this moment.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Jungkook's tears mix with your own as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you both.

Your lips part for a breath, and in the brief pause, you see the raw emotion in his eyes. It's a look of longing, of need, of a love that's been buried beneath layers of pain and addiction. Without another word, you capture his lips again, pouring all your love and hope into the kiss.

Jungkook's walls crumbled completely as he let himself be vulnerable, feeling your warmth and acceptance enveloping him. The kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the moment, letting the world outside fade away.

Finally, you broke apart, both gasping for breath, foreheads resting against each other. Jungkook's eyes were no longer empty but filled with a mixture of love, determination, and a glimmer of hope. You cupped his face, your thumbs gently wiping away his tears.

"We'll get through this together," you whispered, your voice filled with unwavering conviction. "One step at a time."

Jungkook nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise I'll try," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "That's all I ask." Before capturing his lips with yours once again.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands move to his hair, pulling, messing, and tugging. His hands drop to your bare thighs beside him, caging him in. A small whimper makes past the kiss when he dips his finger onto the waistband of your black small shorts you wear underneath your school skirt.

The feeling was foreign, but it felt right. When his fingers dipped into your panties a loud moan was coming out of you. "Shh, baby, your parents will hear you.” Jungkook whispers. “Not here; gone for the weekend.” You pant as you feel his middle finger dip between your delicate folds, spreading your wetness over your clit.

You never had anyone touch you this way; the only thing that has ever come close to your center were your fingers, but as he enters one of his digits, it makes you realize your fingers were nothing compared to this. “Ah-fuck,” you moan, your head falling onto his shoulders.

“So fucking tight, holy shit.” Jungkook exclaims as he adds another finger to your soaking cunt. Your back arches as he pumps his two fingers in and out of your hole, and your hips roll on his lap, trying to relieve your clit. You let out a whine when he pulled them out, but it was quickly replaced with a loud, heavy sigh of relief when three fingers pressed hard on your clit, rubbing circles.

“That feels so good; don't stop.” You cry into his ear; your pussy pulsates on his fingers. The pleasure from his fingers on your pussy has you digging your nails into his arms. “Do you like being fingered?” Jungkook asks as he inserts three fingers, stretching you out. “Yes, fuck yes.” you moan heavily. Your walls clench around Jungkook's fingers anytime he curls them into your g-spot, sending waves of shock to unravel in your abdomen. The squelching sound of your pussy mixes with your loud moans, making Jungkook's dick harden underneath you.

“My bed,” you pant, your eyes shut close as he continues to rummage his fingers into you. Jungkook gives a hum and nod of acknowledgement before pulling his fingers out of you, picking you both up in a quick, swift motion before dropping you on the bed with a squeal.

Jungkook lets out a small, breathy laugh, and his fingers fumble on the button and zipper of his jeans. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when he drops his pants on the ground, revealing the outline of his cock in his boxers. Your eye of vision suddenly went up to his chest when he took his shirt off in a split second, giving you a sight of small scars and bruises on his ribs, sending a punch to your stomach.

Your heart squeezed in your chest when he suddenly realized what you were staring at. You quickly made your way to the end of your bed, pulling him closer. Your lips dropped to the side of his rib cage, leaving a little chaste kiss on one of his bruises. A shaky breath leaves Jungkook as he watches you kiss every single purple, reddish mark and scar on his body.

Jungkook puts a finger under your chin before tilting it up, and your teary eyes make contact with his. 

“Hi.” He whispers softly.

“Hi.” You whisper back, a small smile plastered on Jungkook's face, before his lips make contact with yours. His hands this time worked on pulling down your shorts, which ended up taking your light pink-drenched panties down as well. Heat flowed through your body even though it was freezing in your house. You both broke apart from the kiss when Jungkook pulled on your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

The white shirt gets added to your guy's discarded clothes on the floor, and your hands wrap around his neck before pulling him down with you onto the bed. “M’gon squish you to death.” Jungkook groans as he lifts his weight on you, “What a heavenly way to die.” You joke, cracking a small smile at Jungkook.

You couldn’t even think of anything else because, before you knew it, Jungkook was in between your legs, sucking on your folds. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it felt so good. Your legs squeezed both sides of his face, caging him. His tongue worked magic on you, flicking his tongue all over your pussy. Your hands tangled with his messy raven hair, pulling harshly whenever he would suck on your clit for a little too long.

Your chest heaves as you try so hard to catch your breath. Jungkook moves his head from side to side erratically, earning a pornographic sound from you. Your walls clenched on Jungkook's fingers as he pumped them rapidly. “I’m g-gonna cum,” you cry out, your back arching as he hums onto your center, sending vibrations all over your body.

Your mind is fogged up with invisible smoke, and your lungs burn as you hold onto your breath. Your teeth bite roughly on your bottom lip to contain the moans that are threatening to spill out of you. Before you could say another word, white dots blurred your vision. "Your body squirms into Jungkook's face, coming in a loud moan.

“Hurts, ah” You cry, and a low chuckle rumbles against you as he begins leaving between your legs, but not before dropping a kiss on your inner thigh. Your thighs are pressed together, and your legs are sore as your center aches for more. “Felt good?” Jungkook kisses your cheek, and you nod with a whiney hum as his hand wanders behind you, unclasping your white cotton bra and untangling it from your arms before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Jungkook didn't waste any time putting his mouth on one of your nipples. His warm tongue plays with your bud, sucking, toying, and licking. Your head rolls back as your hands behind his head push him into you more.

“You're so good at this; should I be worried?” You moan as he grinds his hard-clothed length into you. “Don't think about that, baby.” He replies that a sad tone in his voice makes your heart feel as if it were being stabbed. “Oh.” You let out a sigh, and Jungkook planted a kiss on your collarbone. 

“I'm a virgin,” you say, tilting your head to the side to catch a look at Jungkook's face. His brows furrowed slightly before he dropped another kiss on your neck. “I’m not.” Jungkook says, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. “What a slut.” You joke, playfully rolling your eyes, earning a laugh out of him. “You're annoying.” Jungkook laughs, his head dropping down beside the crook of your neck.

“But you love me.” You pip, moving your body underneath him, making him chuckle.

 “But I love you.” Jungkook looks up, a small smile displayed on his lips. “If I were having sex with someone I care about and love,” He whispers, “This would be my first time as well.” Jungkook finishes, making your heartbeat skyrocket. You feel as if you were on the moon, flying around with the stars.

“Pinky promise.” You smile, you raise your pinky finger up in front of his face, and you watch how he tangles his pinky with yours before smashing his lips with yours. “Pinky promise.” He whispers back into your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook was everything and more than you had ever wished for; his soft, cracked lips molded against yours, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces. “Fuck me, please.” You whine, and your hips rise up, trying to rub yourself against him, which has him pushing your hips down into the mattress with his tattooed hand. “Be patient, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“Please,” you cry. Your hand slides between you both, palming him over his boxers and making him groan. “Please, fuck me.” you beg this time. Your palm squeezes his cock, making him thrust into you. 

Jungkook didn't reply; instead, he pulled down the last remaining clothing item that was covering him. He opened your legs, a shaky breath left your lip, and your eyes took him. His hair disheveled in a brown mess, his lips puffy and red, and the most mischievous grin on his face had your stomach fluttering with fireworks and roller coasters.

“Nervous?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he settles between your legs; his length rubs against your cunt. “It's big,” you bite your lip, as you look between you both. Jungkook bites his lip as he moves closer, placing his cock on you, his tip reaching your belly button. “It’ll fit, if that's what you're wondering.” Jungkook lets out a small snicker, and his thumb runs against your bottom lip.

“It's going to hurt, right?” You ask, your voice low and filled with lust, has heat rushing to Jungkook's cock. "Yes, baby, you’ll probably bleed a bit. But I promise it'll feel so good.” He comforts you; kisses are peppered all over your face, easing your nervousness. “Does this mean we are basically doing blood oaths?” You joke, your heart fluttering  when he lets out a deep, throaty laugh.

Jungkook opens your legs, his eyes drop to your glistening pussy, and your juices spill onto your pink sheets. His hand wraps around his cock, tugging roughly before slapping it on your pussy, making you let out a choked moan. "Ah,” you moan.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, "Baby, I don't have a condom,” he remembers. 

“I'm on the pill.” You rush out and say, “I got on them for my periods.” You explain which Jungkook nods. “You sure? We don't have to right now, baby,” Jungkook says, only to be received with a disapproving head nod from you. “No, I want you right now.” You say, your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a small pump. 

You moan when you place his cock in front of your entrance, and with a small, reassuring smile, Jungkook is pushing his cock into you. “Ah, oh, my god.” You moan, and pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch, giving you time to get accustomed. “I know I'm sorry, baby.” Jungkook coos, dropping kisses all over your face as you feel his cock go in deeper. 

“So full.” You moan when his cock is fully in. Your fingertips dig into his back, leaving crescent moons. “Hurts?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your clit trying to help ease the pain. “A little.” You reply before giving him the green light to move. 

Jungkook's movements started slow, pulling his cock out of you and leaving his tip in before pushing in again at the slowest pace. Jungkook's eyes squeezed shut at the intense pleasure his body was feeling. Making him forget everything outside of this moment. You clench around him whenever he hits your g-spot.

The pain turns into pleasure as jungkook plunges into you at a faster pace. Your headboard hits your wall over and over, matching his thrusts. “Taking me so fucking good, fuck.” Jungkook groans, your moans mixing with the sound of the squelching of your juices.

Your mind is hazy, your bodies are hot. As beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook's forehead, a moan flushes out of you when he pushes one of your legs backwards, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he hits the spot in you repeatedly. Drool starts dripping down the sides of your mouth, and your hands find your sheets tugging hard, turning your knuckles white.

“So good.” You cry out; his thrusts are harder, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you gasp for air each time he slams into you. Jungkook's cock twitches in you as he presses slightly on your belly, making a bulge of his cock appear inside of you.

“I’m going to cum,” you moan. “Not yet, baby, not yet.” Jungkook groans, pulling out. He flips you onto your stomach, presses your legs together before slipping into your pussy again with a loud groan.

"Shit, so fucking tight.” Jungkook moans, His hands squeeze your ass as he fucks you from behind. Your moans and screams get muffled by how you bite into your pillow. The position had him being able to go deeper, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. 

“I’m going to cum.” You scream into your pillow, as he grunts with each thrust he fucks into you. “Come baby.” He groans, giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. He didn’t have to tell you twice, your orgasm all over his cock. Your body shakes, and you clench hard around him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he spills into you.

Your bodies heave heavily, as he fucks you both through your orgasm. Soft moans and whines leave your lips as he pulls out of you, and the white fluid drips out of your hole, making Jungkook groan in satisfaction.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jungkook asks, his tone sweet and gentle as he flips you over to your back, catching a glimpse of your red cheeks and teary eye expression. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.” You chuckle. Jungkook's eyes look over your body, looking for any bruises, but are met with none, which makes him sigh in relief.

“Yeah?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, dropping a kiss on your lips before getting up from your bed and making his way to your vanity. He opens a couple of your drawers before picking up the package of wet wipes and making his way back to you.

“We need to change your sheets, baby.” Jungkook comments as he takes notice of the blood stain on them. He pulls one of the wipes out of the package, wiping you clean in a delicate manner. When he finished cleaning you up, he followed along with cleaning himself before disposing the wipes in your trash can beside your bed. 

He also quickly changes your sheets before jumping into bed with you. His head lies on your chest. Hearing your steady heartbeat, your fingers work on his back muscles as he relaxes further into you. The sound of rain outside pebbles against your window.

As you both lay intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal, Jungkook felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The familiar gnawing urge for drugs was conspicuously absent, replaced entirely by thoughts of you. Your touch, your warmth, and your love.

And for the second time in his life, the voices finally stopped as he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[dameronology]

complex (logan)

summary: honestly i was just listening to complex by katie macleod and i started typing and this is what happened, it's only 800 words but hey-ho.

warnings: arguments, so much swearing, logan is kind of a dick

Your residual anger hung thick in the air like heat in the summer.

Your apartment was full of signs—little reminders of your argument, tiny clues to point to the hurt in your chest. The blankets on the sofa were still tangled from where Logan had slept there last night. There were two empty bottles of whisky beside a smashed plate on the coffee table, matched with angry claw marks where he'd made the wooden structure his victim. Most obviously, you and the man you loved stood on each end of the room and the argument, chests heaving from shouting and fists balled up with rage. 

"I fucking hate you," you declared.

"No, you don't," Logan deadpanned, "you hate me right now, but really, you love me."

"Don't," you paused, taking a deep breath, "don't tell me how to feel."

"But you're allowed to tell me how to feel, huh?" he challenged.

There was another strangled sigh in your mouth. You couldn't keep sighing. You needed to come up with something new. Yelling had never been your thing. Maybe Logan's, but not yours. He hadn't even yelled for this entire fight. There had been heated exchanges, sure, but even in his most frustrated moments, he hadn't dared raise his voice. He had that much self-control.

"I can't look at you," your eyes fell to the floor.

Logan let out a snort. "Can't look at me, huh? Can't look me in the eye?"

This whole thing had started because the furry fucking moron had said something stupid. Then, he'd made it even worse when you'd pointed it out. It was like Logan had brought himself a proverbial shovel and was rewarding himself by digging a hole. He was ten feet down, and he couldn't see anything, save if he looked up and saw you glancing down at him with bleary eyes in his self-sustained grave. You could have reached down your hand to help him out but it was too far.

"Fuck. You."

Your chest heaved as you shoved past him, shoulders hitting his with a thud. Logan had barely even processed what had happened before the bedroom door slammed in his face. The force caused a picture on the shelf beside it to fall, the glass smashing into three separate pieces. He leant down to pick it up, turning the frame over. It was a picture of you at Coney Island two years ago; the wind was blowing your hair back, faced pressed to Logan's as he scowled. They were sweeter times.

Logan glanced up at the ceiling - or the sky, whatever the closest thing is.

"Whoever the fuck is up, that's not fucking funny."

He stopped at the door.

To say his heart broke when he heard you crying on the other side would be an understatement. There was a lot of sounds that Logan hated; his ring tone, his alarm sound in the morning, Wade Wilson's voice...but above all, the sound of you crying felt like a punch to the throat. It was even worse for him to know that he was the one who caused it.

Logan didn't stop before he opened the door. He booted it, body crossing the room in seconds to meet you at the bed. You were curled up, hugging his pillow to your chest and crying into yours.

He fell to his knees beside you, warm hands pulling your arms away from your face and towards him instead. A pair of strong arms came to wrap around you and in seconds, you were pressed to his chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "don't cry. Please don't cry. Punch me, slap me, fuckin' kill me if you want but please don't cry."

A little sob escaped your throat. "You're so frustrating."

"I know," Logan gave you a small smile, "christ, I know. And I am so fucking sorry."

He re-centred you on the bed, organising the pillows so that they were behind you. The mattress dipped beside you as he climbed under the covers, pulling you back into his side. You were still glaring at him, still refusing to throw you a ladder down his special grave.

"I let my anger get the best of me sometimes," Logan said, "maybe I don't shout at you or get angry the way I do at other people, but it...it manifests in more fucked up ways, I think. I like arguing. I love riling people up. I don't like doing that to you, though."

"You did, though."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmured. "I'm trying my best. I know my best is absolute bullshit but...I am trying."

You tangled your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I know. It's okay if you want to keep trying."

Logan softly smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars react to your death

Important note: all of these deaths occur during the infinity castle arc, heavy and implied spoilers. Rengoku’s reaction to your death takes place before Mugen Train! Reader’s gender is unspecified.

Warnings: this post contains spoilers for the final arc of the manga. This includes implied spoilers for various characters. Please do not read this if you don’t want to be spoiled and don’t blame me if you go ahead and read it anyways lol

A/N: I wrote this whole post in my head while showering last night and I’m honestly offended it took me 3x as long to actually write it.

Giyu 

“CAWWW! DEAD! KOCHO SHINOBU AND L/N Y/N ARE DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!” Giyu’s body comes to a screeching halt, Tanjiro shooting past him before falling to his knees as violent sobs wracked his body. Giyu, on the other hand, is frozen in place, a sob stuck in his throat. Shinobu’s death was a punch to the gut, but you? For the first time since Sabito had died, Giyu felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. Yet, nothing would come out, those tears wouldn’t break the barrier and slip down his cheeks. His tight throat would not let the sob escape. There was no possible way you were gone, you promised him you’d be okay. Though, childish beliefs like that reminded him of his own faults. Once again, he couldn’t protect the people he cared about. Rather than wallowing in sudden grief, he began moving again, past Tanjiro who was struggling to get back up. He needed to keep moving, if he didn’t stop, he was certain he would collapse entirely and never get up again. He couldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste. 

Shinobu 

Her feet barely hit the ground, body manoeuvring through the endless castle with one destination in mind. “CAWWW! DEAD! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING UPPER MOON TWO!” She stumbles, shock hitting her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Her mind is racing, not willing to believe what the crow had just said to be true. You had steered away from the plan. In a desperate attempt to save Shinobu’s life you tried to defeat Upper Two yourself. Hot, angry tears are spilling down her cheeks, hand clutching her heart as she tries to understand. “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you take my word for it and go with Tomioka? Look what you did… you went and got yourself killed,” Yet again, Upper Two had taken something precious to her. One word flashed through her mind, alongside your beautiful face. Revenge. She would get her revenge, not only for Kanae, but for you. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be with you soon.” 

Rengoku 

It’s quiet, too quiet even. You should be back by now, the sun has fully risen. Kyojuro’s heart is hammering in his chest, doom creeping up his spine. He has an unshakable bad feeling about your late arrival. His worst fears are confirmed when your crow arrives without you. “No…” breathless, as if all the air is being ripped from his lungs. “Don’t say it…” his knees are giving out as your crow lands on the wooden porch. “T-they’re gone…aren’t they?” he chokes it out, the words are as bitter and burning as bile. Your crow only caws, soft and full of sorrow, unable to share the proper message as Kyojuro begins to sob. He’s curling in on himself, crying so loudly but unable to hear it due to the intensity of the ringing in his ears. It’s a panic attack manifesting in the most intense form. He can’t fathom a world without you, nevermind having to live in one. Senjuro is rushing to his brother's aid, seeing your crow gives him more than enough information to know as tears well in his eyes. 

Tengen

He’s kneeling dutifully outside of Nezuko’s room, Shinjuro by his side. His wives are inside, too stubborn to sit out and not help at all. Their excuse being that Nezuko saved his life, they owe her the same kind of protection now. You on the other hand, were too determined, leaving your retirement to fight the battle against the demon lord himself. Nothing Tengen nor his wives said could convince you to stay on the sidelines. His heart is sinking the moment your crow appears in the distance, he’d recognize it anywhere. “N-no… don’t you dare…” Tengen’s voice is cracking as it lands, Shinjuro is turning his head the other way, knowing what is to come. “Don’t you dare say they are dead…” his voice is rising in his panic, he knows the answer. The commotion has Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru running outside. The moment Hina’s eyes land on your crow, a violent sob escapes her chest, falling to her knees as Makio and Suma come to the same conclusion. “T-they’re dead…aren’t they?!” Makio sobs, Tengen can’t raise his head as your crow delivers your final message. 

Mitsuri 

She’s frozen in place as a crow comes directly for her, fear is ebbing through her body, a cold sweat forming on her brow. She knows the message before the crow can even utter it. “No! Go back! I don’t want to hear it!” Obanai is frozen beside her, grabbing her arm so she doesn’t collapse. The crow circles around her, cawing woefully as she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me!” she’s hiccupping as Obanai tries to pull her forward, they need to keep moving. “Mitsuri…” his voice is surprisingly soft, the crow is still circling overhead. “We need to hear the message…” she shakes her head, hands coming up to cover her ears as tears slip down her cheeks. The crow caws again, Obanai signals for it to deliver the message. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON ONE!” The crow continued on about who lived and who died, what was important is that upper moon one was dead. That didn’t matter to her though, no she couldn’t even hear the rest of the message over the ringing in her years. Mitsuri let Obanai tug her along, they needed to keep moving at whatever the cost. 

Muichiro 

“CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” He keeps running, uncertain as to why he feels a tightness in his chest at the crow’s message. “THEY DIED DURING A CONFLICT WITH UPPER TWO!” He’s still moving, more so concerned over his unexpected and overwhelming sadness. Why am I sad? I don’t even remember that name… but then your kind smile is flashing before his eyes and the world is crashing down around him. He comes to a screeching halt, eyes wide as he finally pieces together the message. “y/n…” how could he ever forget? Before he realizes it, he’s sniffling. Tears blur his vision for a moment before he blinks them away. He begins to move again, the sadness gripping his chest is slowly fading, fading until he can’t even remember why he got teary eyed in the first place. He needs to remember the task at hand… where was he heading again? 

Obanai

The flapping of wings catches him off guard, head craning upwards as the crow begins to caw. The noise is full of sorrow, which can only mean it bears bad news. “Obanai…” Mitsuri is watching the animal circle above them, her heart pounding erratically at the endless possibilities of the message it may share. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED IN BATTLE AGAINST UPPER MOON ONE!” Obanai’s feet are slowing, hitting the floor beneath him with a little too much force as the message rings through his head over and over. “N-no… oh… Iguro I…” Mitsuri is crying, staring at the man beside her as the world seems to cave in on him. It’s as if everything is in slow motion for a few beats in time. The words the crow uttered felt foreign, your name paired with ‘dead’ didn’t make any sense in his mind. It was impossible really, there was no way you were dead. You had gone to face Upper One with Gyomei, Sanemi, Muichiro… four hashira against upper One and you didn’t make it? You were so strong… no the message can’t be correct. “Kanroji… let’s keep moving.” he’s turning it off, every swelling emotion is being suppressed as he takes off again. Mitsuri is left with no choice but to wipe her tears and follow. 

Sanemi

Upper Moon One is standing before him, Gyomei at his side. This battle needed to be won, if not, everything would be lost. The demon before him needed to be put down, there was no other option. He’s talking, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. Rather, Sanemi is gauging every vital point he can strike and how to go about doing it. “CAWW! I BRING A MESSAGE!” he doesn’t glace up, nothing that crow could say would be able to break his focus. “L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” except for that. Sanemi inhales deeply, eyes widening significantly as he debates on if he heard the message correctly. “THEY DIED DURING AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO! UPPER MOON TWO IS NOW DEAD!” it feels as if all the air in the room had been sucked away with the crow’s flapping wings. Upper One no longer seemed smug about the message after the addition of Upper Two being defeated. Beside him, Gyomei is crying. Sanemi doesn’t realize it, but so is he. He’s oblivious to the hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Still, his patience remains intact, waiting for Gyomei’s signal to attack the high ranked demon. Now, he has absolutely nothing to lose. Kagaya is gone, now you are gone, it is likely the rest of the Hashira wouldn’t make it out of this… he has nothing left to fight for. 

Gyomei “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING MUZAN!” Tears flow freely as he fights, part of him wishes he hadn’t been able to hear the message in the first place. You had met the unfortunate fate of encountering Muzan himself. It was likely that you were alone, if you weren’t, you were likely the strongest in your group. It pained him, knowing you likely died a brutal death. That pain fueled his attacks, taking every ounce of heartbreak and despair out on the demon before him. You didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved a fate that cruel. He keeps moving, mind reeling yet completely focused. It’s as if he is fighting in a bubble, the world muffled around him yet perfectly clear all at once. Too many emotions are raging through his soul to really pinpoint just one of them. He can only hope you’ll wait for him on the other side, he can only pray you’re watching over him at this very moment. Guiding him, giving him strength. “I’ll meet you again soon, don’t worry. I promise I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Wait for me, please? You will, won’t you?”

[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 16 -

The next morning, I left Chris’s dorm before the sun was fully up. My chest felt heavy, and my thoughts were a tangled mess. I walked back to my dorm noticing Matt wasn't there which allowed me to let my tears fall. I kicked off my shoes, climbed into bed, and pulled the blanket over my head, trying to muffle my sobs.

I didn’t even hear the door open, but soon enough, Matt’s voice broke through the quiet. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

I stiffened, wiping my face quickly, but it was no use—he’d already seen. Matt walked closer, his brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled, keeping my face buried in the pillow.

“Y/N.” His voice was firmer now, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

I rolled onto my back, my tear-streaked face staring up at him. “It’s Chris,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “He—he said we should put a hold on… us.”

Matt stepped closer, his usual smirk replaced with something colder. “Wait, let me get this straight,” he said, folding his arms. “You’re crying over Chris? Really?”

I sniffled, trying to ignore the edge in his tone. “Matt, I don’t need this right now.”

“No, I think you do,” he shot back. “Because while you’ve been all lovey-dovey over him, guess what? Chris has been fucking with that girl from the volleyball team this whole time.”

I blinked, unsure if I’d heard him right. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “Katie. Blonde, tall, number eleven. She’s been all over him, and he’s been letting her. So, maybe save your tears, dumbass”

I felt my chest tighten, the tears threatening to fall again. “You’re lying,” I said, absolutely taken aback. 

“Why would I lie about that?” Matt leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. “I’ve seen them.”

I sat there, stunned, my mind racing. Chris wouldn’t do that, he had been so sweet.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m just saying, maybe stop wasting your time on a guy who clearly doesn’t see you the way you think he does.”

I swallowed hard, anger and hurt bubbling up inside me. “Why are you even saying this, Matt? Why the fuck wouldnt you tell me before?”

He shrugged. “Maybe because I didn't care enough too, figured you would find out yourself”

His words cut deep, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break again. I stood up, slipping on my shoes.

“Thanks Matt, Your a fucking dick” I said coldly, brushing past him.

Chris sat up straighter when I barged into his room, my face streaked with tears and full of anger.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” he asked, but I wasn’t in the mood for his innocent act.

“Don’t bullshit me, Chris,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “Matt told me. About Katie. From the volleyball team.”

His face fell, guilt washing over him in an instant. He didn’t even try to deny it. “Y/N…”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me,” I cut him off. “How long, Chris? How long were you screwing around with her while you were with me?”

Chris sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, avoiding my gaze. “It didn’t stop when we got together,” he admitted. “I didn't think you’d find out.”

I stared at him, stunned. The air felt like it had been knocked out of my lungs.  “So, what? You just decided it wasn’t worth telling me while you paraded around acting like I was the only one?”

“I was scared, okay?” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?!” I snapped. “Chris, you were literally fucking another girl? You couldn't have wanted me that bad.”

He finally looked at me, his face filled with anger. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I messed up. But-”

“But what, Chris?” I asked, my voice breaking. 

Chris leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I wasn't the only problem in this,” he said. “Let’s be honest, Y/N. You don’t want me. You want Matt. I knew that from the beginning. Why do you think I kept fucking her?”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “You are such a fucking asshole you know that?” 

Chris let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “See? You can’t even argue it. You are just mad you didn't have me all to yourself. You act as if you didnt literally fuck my brother.”

I stood there for a moment, blinking back tears. “If you didnt want me you should’ve left me the fuck alone.” I whispered.

“I could say the same to you.” he said, his voice filled with pure rage.

I turned and left, knowing I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. 

I knocked on Charlie’s door, my head spinning from everything that had just happened. When she opened it, the concerned look on her face almost broke me.

“Whoa,” she said, pulling me inside. “What happened? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

I sank down onto her bed, the weight of everything collapsing on me. “Chris and I are done,” I said flatly.

Her eyes widened. “Wait, what? Since when?”

I gave her the whole rundown— Matt telling me everything, the fight, the confession about the volleyball girl. Charlie sat beside me, her face scrunched in disbelief. “That’s fucking insane. And Matt told you all this?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Right? And now I don’t even know where I stand with him, either.”

Charlie crossed her arms, nodding firmly. “Okay, no. This is not how we’re spending Halloweekend. We are not bitching and moaning in this dorm room crying over boys who don’t deserve you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to do then?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Charlie’s face lit up with determination. “We’re going to Spirit Halloween and getting matching costumes.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Matching costumes?”

“Yes!” she said, already grabbing her bag. “Something sexy, something that says “dick me down.””

I stood up, the idea of dressing up and getting out of my head sounding better by the second. “Alright,” I said. 

Charlie grinned, hooking her arm through mine. “That’s my bitch.”

We burst through the door to Charlie’s dorm room, bags from Spirit Halloween swinging at our sides as we laughed about the fat man whose face planted in front of us on the way in.

“I can’t believe Spirit is even selling this” I said, holding up the ridiculously short plaid skirt we’d picked out.

“Right?” Charlie grinned, kicking the door shut behind her. “This is bordering on the line of lingerie.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m calling it now, at least seven different people are seeing my tits tonight. And not on purpose.”

Charlie waved me off, already digging through the bags. “Yeah but can you really say your halloweekend was fun if you didn’t flash someone?”

I laughed and we started getting ready, music blasting in the background to keep the mood light. I grabbed the button-down shirt and tied it just under my chest, leaving only two buttons done so that my cleavage was on full display. 

“I might as well not even wear a shirt,” I joked, adjusting the knot in front of the mirror.

Charlie laughed, already halfway dressed.

I rolled my eyes, slipping on the plaid skirt and fidgeting with the waistband until it sat just right on my hips. “Both my asscheeks are out right now.”

“Exactly the point,” Charlie said, popping on a pair of big-framed glasses. She put her hair into two pigtails, completing the look. “Now put on your socks and glasses, and you’re good to go.”

I sat down to pull on the knee-high white socks, then slipped into my converse. Once I’d added the oversized glasses and quickly put my hair into two French braids, I turned to Charlie. “What do you think?”

Charlie whistled, spinning me around to look in the mirror. “Girl forget Chris and Matt. Have me.”

We both burst out laughing, the nerves of the day finally starting to melt away. “Alright,” I said, grabbing my lip gloss and shoving it between my boobs.

Charlie grabbed her keys, and with a final check in the mirror, we were ready to take on the night. 

The house was packed, music thumping so loudly I could feel the bass in my chest. Red cups were being passed around, and groups of people danced on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Charlie handed me a shot almost immediately, and we clink glasses before taking our first of the night.

“Here’s to forgetting all the bullshit,” Charlie said, smirking.

“Fuck yes please” I added with a grin.

An hour later, the alcohol was flowing, and Charlie and I were in the middle of the crowd, laughing and dancing to the beat of the music. Our matching schoolgirl outfits were definitely earning attention, but I wasn’t focused on anything other than letting loose.

Charlie spun me around, and we dissolved into laughter when someone in a ghostface mask, and a black outfit, joined in on our dancing. They were playful at first, moving side to side as we all laughed, but then the person slid behind me, hands confidently finding my hips.

I froze for a second, glancing at Charlie, who gave me a wide-eyed look before shrugging and continuing to dance. I figured it was just someone being flirty, so I went with it, moving to the beat. Their hands gripped my waist tighter, and I could feel their presence close behind me.

Then they leaned in, their voice low and familiar. “I’ve been waiting to feel you on me again.”

I stiffened immediately. I knew that voice all too well. “Matt?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at the mask.

He didn’t answer, but the way his hands stayed on my hips and the faint scent of his cologne gave him away. I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, he stepped closer, his chest brushing against my back. “Having fun,” he murmured, his tone teasing. “You were too busy looking like a slut to notice me.”

“Matt, you’re drunk. Go find another bitch to bother. They’re all practically naked anyway; it should be pretty easy.”

“Why would I do that when you’re right here?” He pulled me back so we were flush with each other, his voice dropping lower. “Feel what you do to me?” he whispered, his hands gripping my waist as he grinded his growing erection against my barely covered ass.

I felt heat rise to my face as I felt his imprint on my skin. I turned my head away, my voice sharp. “No, Matt. I just ended things with Chris. You’re only saying this because you’ve been drinking.”

He didn’t let go. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his tone almost bitter.

“Get what, Matthew?” I asked, getting blatantly annoyed.

“God, you’re fucking stupid.” He pushed off of me and walked away.

“Who was that?” Charlie asked obliviously, 

I shrugged “I don't know some random” 

Charlie laughed, pulling me back towards the kitchen for more drinks.

We stayed for a little longer before we decided to call it a night. We clumsily stumbled back to our dorms and got home safely by the grace of god. 

The room was quiet save for the faint rustling of fabric as I got more comfortable. My head spun slightly from the alcohol, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

I got up, stumbled to my dresser and grabbed some pajamas before falling back into my bed and grabbing my phone. I was drunk and unfiltered so I decided texting Chris would be a good idea.“Im so glad you made this so easy bu being  afucking whore” I threw my phone over to the couch and let sleep overtake my mind.

tag -

@ch0llies @namelesssav @christmastreecake

@chrisstopherfilmed @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88

@tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay

@rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Rooster, angst, sand and “Who did this?”💕

Ooooh I loved this one SO much. I may just have to revisit it in the future..

Hope you like it!

----

warnings: angst, physical violence against women, gross men

One Call Away

Bradley throws open the door to the Bronco, nearly tripping over himself as he jumps out of the vehicle. He’s taking off out of the parking lot and down the hill to where you said you were before the door is even done slamming behind him. You had texted him an SOS along with a pin of your location nearly 20 minutes ago, and hadn’t answered your phone when he had called you almost immediately after receiving it. You hadn’t responded to any of his follow up texts either, and he had broken every speed limit on the way here. He didn’t know what was going on, but you needed him, so he had to get to you. You had been his best friend for longer than you hadn’t, and he had been in love with you for nearly just as long, even if you were oblivious to that. He would always come when you called. 

The beach is dark and empty of other people, but he spots your figure near the shore line almost instantly; he never had issues finding you, even in the most crowded of rooms. You’re sitting with your arms wrapped around your drawn up knees and Bradley doesn’t slow down until he’s close enough to hear you crying and see that you’re trembling. You're in nothing but a thinly strapped dress and while it’s not cold, the ocean air isn’t as warm as it could be, either. He’s slipping his Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and settling it over yours without a second thought. 

“Hey,” he says softly. Your shoulders tense in a way they never really have due to his presence alone, and Bradley is immediately on edge again. He sits down beside you in the sand slowly, so as not to startle you. He’s not oblivious to the fact that you haven’t looked at him yet. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” 

You borrow your face further into your knees. Bradley scoots a little bit closer, his body near flush against yours. “Can you look at me? Please?” 

Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, you raise your head to fulfill his request and look at him. Finally seeing your pretty eyes eases some of the tension he had been feeling at first, but then it returns tenfold. 

Bradley feels bile in his throat and fury immediately flood his veins when he sees the cut on your lip and bruise on your eye. But he can see how shattered you look, how scared and small you feel, and he does his best to keep his anger masked. He raises a hand slowly, making sure you can track every movement, and gently lays a hand on your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. Who did this to you?” 

“I had a date tonight,” you tell him. You wince as you try to send him a sarcastic smile. “It…didn’t go very well.” 

“A guy did this to you?” he asks. A tear slips down your cheek when you nod. 

“I told him I wanted to leave,” you say, whimpering when he ghosts his thumb over the darkening bruise at your eye, checking to make sure nothing was broken. He apologizes immediately. “And he got handsy. He paid for dinner, so I ‘owed’ him.” 

Several feelings go through him at once, each one worse than the last. He swallows past the lump forming in his throat, knowing he needs to ask. “Did he…did he go any further?” 

You understand what he’s asking and he lets out a sigh of relief when you shake your head. When you tell him you kneed him in the crotch and punched him back and made a run for it before he could take it any further, he feels pride swell through him. That’s his girl. 

“I just kind of ran. Then I realized how far away from home I was. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to call an uber or something because I had already met my quota of creepy men for the night, and I-” your voice cracks, and it’s like the emotions you had been pushing down, however futilly, bubble out of you. Sobs wrack your body and Bradley is pulling you close to him, enclosing you in his arms. Some of the tension he had been holding falls away when you don’t flinch or hesitate to wrap your arms tight around him. He lets you cry against him for as long as you need. When you apologize for disrupting his night, he’s shushing you immediately. 

“I’ll always come when you call me,” he promises with a kiss to your hair. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. I could be across the damn ocean, but I don’t care. I will always be here when you call. Okay?” 

You nod, and for a few minutes you simply exist together sitting in the cold sand, your cheek pressed to his chest and his resting against the top of your head. 

“I need his name, sweetheart,” he tells you, and when you go to protest, he shakes his head. “No man gets to put his hands on you and get away with it. His name. Please.” 

With a sigh, you utter a first and a last name. Bradley tenses for a moment when it’s one he recognizes from Top Gun. A steely determination fills him and he files it away, pressing another kiss to your hair. 

“I’ll take care of it. Come on, let’s get you home, okay?”

word count: 920

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

All The Fear and The Fire of The End of The World [Joel Miller x artist!reader]

Read on Ao3

Sequel to The Artist and the Builder

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/artist!reader who is his age and has arthritis and allergies (although that's not really addressed in this one)

Tags/warnings: ANGST, bit of h/c, Panic attacks, reader is sick, Joel has anxiety. That's about it, but please stay safe is panic attacks is something that triggers you <3

Summary: Joel has told Ellie about what happened in Salt Lake City, and she is livid with him. Seeking comfort with you, Joel however finds you in the grips of a nasty flu, and has to put his own needs aside to nurse you.

Words: 3,799

A/N: Title is from Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! Couldn't resist: All the fear and the fire of the end of the world, happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl...

Thank you to @pazizz for having a read before it was finished!

Joel hasn't had an attack like this in a long time - not since he and Ellie settled in Jackson - but now, it's bad.

His heart is being squeezed like a stress ball, his lungs are not taking in fresh air, his throat is constricted. Panic floods his brain as he clutches at his collar. He can't breathe, can't think, can't -

Ellie's screamed words echo in the fiber of his being.

How could you? I hate you! Don't talk to me ever again!

He had finally told her the truth about what had happened at the hospital, why she didn't get to save the world. And Ellie shut him out.

You took my decision away from me!

How could she even consider dying for a cure that wasn't guaranteed? How could she not see that she was the light of his entire life?

How could he not tell her the truth from the start?

Joel stumbles onto one knee, the guilt taking his legs from under him. He fights to breathe, his right fist closes, and he bangs it into the floor. Again. Again. Pain reverberates through his hand and arm, and that jerks him out of his mental anguish.

He punches the floor until the skin of his knuckles break, and he can breathe normally again. Greedily gulping down air in a way that sounds like sobbing - but he is not fucking crying - Joel slowly gets back onto his feet. His knuckles are aching, his arm feels battered, but he grabs his coat, and heads out. Hurrying through the snowy streets of Jackson, he barely notices anyone passing by. He's in a hurry, hurting hand hidden in his jacket pocket, internal compass pointing to your house.

He needs comfort, your soothing hands. He needs to know that he did what he could.

Even if it was you who pushed him into telling Ellie, he knows you were right to encourage him to do it. And he needs you now that Ellie has denounced him. You won't judge him for waiting so long.

He walks into your house without knocking. His throat feels almost constricted when he enters the living-room, expecting to find you in front of the fireplace, immersed in one of your projects. But you're not there, and the fire is nothing but a heap of embers. Frowning, Joel calls your name again. It's not like you to leave the fire unattended or leave on the lights. He walks over to the bedroom door and pushes it open.

There's a pile of blankets on the bed. When his eyes get used to the twilight in the room, he sees that there's a body underneath the layers of covers.

He speaks your name, and the pile of blankets moves. For a second his heart seizes, and panic rises within him. Not you too, he can't stand it!

Then you croak his name, and he knows what's up.

You're so cold. You've never been this cold in your life, and no amount of blankets is helping. Good God, how is it even possible to be so cold, to shake so hard? Your muscles are aching with how much you're shaking, and you can't do anything about it.

You hear Joel's voice close to you, and you will your eyes open, even if using your vision is making your headache worse.

Joel's face swims somewhere above you. Through the brain fog, you hear him ask you how you are.

"Just a slight temperature," you mumble, then feel Joel's callused hand on your forehead.

"You're burning up."

He takes off his jacket, and gets in bed with you, digging himself underneath the blankets until he's right next to you. Fitting his form to yours, he wraps his arm around you to bring you in even closer.

"You're shaking!"

"Jus' need a nap..."

"You need a lot more than that, darlin'."

You mumble something as your eyes fall shut. His body heat has already started to spill onto you, and slowly, you stop shaking, and start relaxing.

"How long have you been like this?" His voice is soft, his breath so warm against your skin. You want to crawl into his voice, melt into the rich, deep syllables, dissolve from this aching body.

"Had to leave the clinic around midday," you slur. Speaking seems difficult. Your throat is sore, your head feels like it's about to explode.

"Are there any meds?"

"No."

"Then it's rest and liquids for you."

You're already drifting off, secure in his arms. Joel feels you relax and become heavy, your audible breathing slowing down. Gently, he strokes a couple of stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and notes that your hairline is damp with sweat. When he's certain that you're not waking up, he carefully disentangles himself from you, and gets up from the bed.

His own heartache is forgotten when he rummages through the cupboards of your kitchen, finding your teas made from dried herbs and flowers. He gathers towels, finds a bucket for water, gathers whatever he can find that will help him take care of you. He returns to the bedroom to check on you before leaving your house to get something to eat from the dining-hall, and see Jackson's doctor.

The doc has, naturally, nothing to prescribe except bedrest and liquid, which Joel had already figured out. What little drugs there are, must be saved for the truly sick. He's luckier at the dining-hall: he gets a big portion of chicken broth from one of the women working there.

"This will cure anything," she promises, and Joel thanks her gruffly. He hurries home to you, finding you exactly where he left you.

You sleep for hours. Focusing his attention on you, wiping your forehead whenever it gets too shiny, listening to your wheezing breaths, Joel forgets about the pressure over his own chest. He can't forget about Ellie, her anger, her words, but he doesn't succumb to anxiety over what happened.

When you wake up, the things Ellie said are pushed to the back of his brain.

You're like a cat waking up from anesthesia: unable to walk but hell-bent on doing it.

"Need the toilet," you mumble, and Joel supports you to the bathroom. You're freezing once you slump down on the toilet seat, and he turns around to give you some privacy.

"Go away," you moan, bent over with you aching head in your hands.

"I've seen women piss before, so do what you have to so that I can help you back to bed," he retorts, and you scoff weakly before releasing a stream of urine that seems searing hot. You manage to wipe yourself and wash your hands before you have to lean on Joel again.

"We need to get you out of these sweaty clothes," he tells you, but you're loath to get undressed.

"It's so cold," you whine, but you're in no position to fight him on it.

He puts his own flannel on you before taking you back to bed, where he coaxes two spoonfuls of broth into you, and almost half a cup of tea, until you shake your head. He gives up, and lets you curl up to sleep. The winter darkness is falling but he turns on the bedside lamp so that he can see your face, its lines stressed by the lamplight and sickness, your forehead shiny with fever, your lips separated as you snore. For a long time, he just watches you, like he's looking for an answer in your features.

Eventually, he turns off the light, rises from his chair, and leaves the bedroom to start a fire in the living-room fireplace.

Your temperature is up the next day so Joel brings the doc, who can't do anything except encourage him to continue doing what he's been doing so far. You're mostly asleep, delirious when you're not, and still so, so cold. Joel does his best to get fluids in you, and a couple of spoonfuls of chicken soup, but it's hard when you're either limp in his arms or shaking.

By afternoon, he's exhausted. Tommy comes by to check on both him and you, and he brings food. Joel never even thought about eating himself.

Sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen table, Joel opens the lunch box and devours its contents.

"I saw Ellie earlier today. She seemed upset, what's up with her?" Tommy wants to know. Joel winces from the painful stab in his heart.

"Nothing's up with Ellie."

"Liar."

Joel looks up from the food at his brother. Tommy knows him too well.

"I told her. About what happened in Salt Lake City."

"That didn't go well."

"It didn't."

Joel looks down again and stuffs his mouth with the rest of the food. The conversation is over for his part, and Tommy knows better than to push it.

"She'll come round."

Joel grunts, and they both sit in silence for a while before Tommy rises.

"I gotta get back to work. Lemme know if you need anything."

Joel clears his throat. "If you see Ellie... tell her I'm not coming back to the house for a while. I don't want her to have to move out."

"Sure, bro."

Tommy pats Joel on the back as he passes him by, and when the front door closes, Joel follows to lock it. He then comes to the bedroom, kicks off his boots, and crawls into bed next to you. His fingers tremble slightly when he touches your forehead, still finding you burning hot. Carefully, not wanting to wake you, he fits himself to your body, puts his head down, and watches you through the grey winter light.

Caring for you has kept him busy enough to not dwell too much on what happened with Ellie, but now his brain is buzzing with her last words to him, her rage and disappointment, his failure. He owes Ellie so much, and he failed her.

His unavailable heart has been locked inside his closed chest for so long, until Ellie cracked it open. Ellie, with her courage, innocence, those stupid puns that she loves so much, and that Joel can’t help smiling at. How could he have surrendered her to the Fireflies? His relationship with Ellie had developed from duty to decency before finally unfolding into love. He has already known the worst pain in his life, and he wasn’t going to live through that again. He simply could not give Ellie up.

And now he has lost her anyway, and he might lose you too.

"You get well," he whispers, assured that you can't hear his dramatic, pathetic plea, even when it's directed at you. "My heart can't take it if you don't make it, you hear me? Don't you dare die on me."

You offer him no sign of having heard him. He swallows, his throat tight, and presses his eyes shut, praying that sleep will take his worries away.

Your violent coughing wakes him up. He blinks blearily in the dark room before he gets his bearings, his arm going around the body that is convulsing next to him. It's a wet cough, rattling in your lungs, and it's new. He sits up in bed, hands on you, like that's going to help. As if anything he does helps. He hates the feeling on not being able to help.

When your coughing subsides, you groan and mumble something.

"What's that, darlin'?"

"My head," you repeat, voice raspy and thin.

"Just lay still."

"Thirsty."

Joel promptly rolls out of bed and goes to get a fresh glass of water from the kitchen. When he sits by your side to help you drink it, he realizes that you're no longer shaking. You take little sips before slumping back against the pillow, your face ashen and your eyes matted, but when he feels your forehead, he can tell you no longer have a fever. That has to be a good sign, right?

“How are you feelin’?” he asks, knowing immediately that it is a stupid question. You open your mouth, but instead of words coming out, there is a bout of coughing. Joel grimaces sympathetically as he takes the glass from your hand to avoid you spilling on yourself.

“Been better,” you finally wheeze, reaching for the glass again as soon as the coughing subsides. He gets up to go refill it, and you drowsily look around the room.

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” he calls back from the kitchen.

You let that sink in. When Joel comes back in, he clearly sees your confusion.

“You’ve been out of it for a few days, yeah.”

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

He hands you the refilled glass but averts his eyes when he replies.

“Someone had to look out for you.”

You drink more greedily now, the cold water lashing its way down your scratchy throat in a way that makes you feel more alert despite the discomfort. Joel takes your glass when you’re finished, puts it on the nightstand, and pulls the covers more snugly around you.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, somewhat amused at his fussing. “You should go home. Has Ellie even seen you since I got sick?”

He freezes, pain flashing across his face before his features turn to cold, hard stone. But you saw it, plain as day.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t answer, and your fear rises.

“Joel, is Ellie alright?”

“Yes.” The answer comes promptly, but the three letters contain a world of events and emotions that you, despite your current state, need to know more of.

“What happened?”

“We’ll talk about it later, darlin’. You need to rest.”

“We’ll talk about it now.” You stress the last word with a rise in volume and pitch, which brings about another bout of coughing. When you’re done, Joel gives you a disapproving glare.

“You’re not well.”

“Duh. Now tell me, or do I have to get out of this bed and go find Ellie myself?”

He sighs deeply, jaw squared as he stares out of the open bedroom door. You wait as he gathers himself.

“I told her. About Salt Lake City.”

“And she didn’t take it well?”

“No. She never wants to see me again. She hates me.”

“Joel…”

Joel can’t look at you. Not even his brother knows the whole story, but he has told you, one late night after the two of you had fucked and were sharing whispered secrets in each other’s arms. He couldn’t keep you in the dark, you’re too important. With all that he has lost in life, with all of his scars and traumas, he got to know Ellie, and he got to know you. When he least expected it, you came along, with your way of seeing the world, its light and its shadows, your body as aching as his but your mind nowhere near as broken. Your ribs bend open so easily for your heart to do what hearts do best. And that kept his chest from closing again now that Ellie hates him.

He’s so grateful for you. And so ashamed.

Tears burn in his eyes and when you sit up and put your hand on his shoulder, he draws a sobbing breath. Goddammit.

“It’s okay, Joel,” you rasp. “We’ll figure it out.”

He passes his hands over his face, wills his tears away, but the more he fights it, the more constricted his chest feels.

No, not now, not when he needs to stay strong for you!

“Joel?”

“Be right back,” he presses, standing up so quickly that the world spins for a second, and his first two steps are wobbly. He hears you speak his name again, but he hurries out to the kitchen, finding support from the sink, his head swimming, his heart beating so fast he thinks it’s going to explode but at the same time he can’t breathe, his throat is closed, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, Jesus fucking Christ he’s having a heart attack –

“Joel!”

Your hands are on him, turning him around. At the end of his tunnel vision is your haggard face, and through the roar in his ears – where did that come from and what is it? – he can hear your voice.

“Joel? Listen to my voice. Feel my touch. You’re okay, baby, you’re okay. I promise. You can breathe. Just take a deep breath, that’s it, just like that, and exhale. Good, go ahead, take another one. That’s great, Joel, just like that.”

Without even noticing, your hoarse voice has pushed through the panic and the pain and the noises, and he finds himself breathing deeply, consciously, his heart slowing down. He blinks a couple of times, and his eyesight is back to normal. You’re in front of him, nodding your encouragement. He wets his lips, wants to say something, but then his knees buckle under him, and before he knows it, both of you are on the floor, you from trying to help him, your still weak body no match for his weight.

You’re coughing, and he collects you in his arms, ignoring the smarting in his elbow. It keeps him sharp.

“You okay?” he asks you as soon as you’re done coughing. You nod against his chest, wheezing breath keeping you from speaking. He holds you closer when you shiver slightly, and when you embrace him back, he feels a lot better.

“What about you?”

“I’m good, darlin’, don’t worry about me.”

“That was a panic attack, Joel, and not a small one.”

He frowns, looks down at you.

“I have a heart problem.”

“Maybe so, but that wasn’t a heart attack. It was a panic attack.”

“How would you know?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though it hurts your head.

“I’m a nurse, Joel.”

He has to chuckle at your tone, but you’re not amused.

“I also had a sister who suffered panic attacks from a young age. It differs from person to person, but what I did to you worked on her. Seemed to work on you as well.”

“It… did. Thank you.”

“How long have you – “ you start, but he interrupts you, though not unkindly.

“Can we… not talk about it right now? I’m exhausted, and you need to rest.”

You agree, and with combined forces, the two of you manage to get off the floor and drag yourselves back to the bedroom. You collapse on the bed together and just barely find the energy to arrange yourselves comfortably before both of you are out.

You sleep uneasily, your cough waking you up constantly. Your head is still aching, and your throat is lined with needles when you swallow, not to mention how much your lungs hurt when you cough, but you’re hungry for the first time since you got sick.

You hear a light snore next to you, so you turn your head. Joel is deep asleep, turned away from you, sleeping on his good ear. Your hacking must have disturbed him because you’re quite sure that he was holding you when you went to sleep.

Slowly, gently, you place your hand between his shoulder blades. He’s warm, sweaty even, in his flannel and no doubt from his attack earlier. But he seems at ease now: his broad back is relaxed, his breaths are deep and even, and he doesn’t move when touched. Carefully, you scoot closer, a tickle in your throat threatening to grow into a cough, but you manage to keep it down. Your arm goes around his waist, and you mold yourself to his form, spooning him tightly, your hand finding a soft spot on his belly to rest against. His breath stutters and changes, but other than his hand clumsily finding yours, he doesn’t move.

He smells of old sweat, and you don’t feel too fresh yourself. The thought of taking a shower with him once he wakes up sets off a pull deep within your lower belly, and you smile as you feel your cheeks heat up. Even when struggling through the worst flu you’ve ever experienced, you can’t keep from fantasizing about the things this man can do with his hands, his mouth, his cock…

You take it he’s to stay with you now, which means that you have to tidy up the living-room, make room for him, but you find yourself not minding. You want him there, you want to go to sleep and wake up with him next to you, and once you get well you want to wake up with your hands all over each other, his mouth on your skin, his rare smiles over breakfast.

The thought of breakfast makes your stomach growl, and you feel a little faint. It’s definitely time to eat something. Gently, you move away from Joel, rousing him when your arm leaves his waist. He rolls over onto his back and rubs his eyes before looking at you.

“Hi,” you smile, patting his arm. “You sleep if you need to. I gotta eat.”

“What time is it?”

“No idea, but it’s still light outside.”

“I’ll fix us something.”

“It’s fine, I’m on it.”

You get out of bed, your legs a little weak but still carrying you, and go to the bathroom first. Joel’s heavy steps are heard making their way to the kitchen, and when you appear in the doorway, he’s already making tea and heating up broth.

“I’ll get something from the kitchens,” he tells you without looking up. “Better see my brother too, let him know we’re alive.”

You walk up to him, feeling a little bit like Bambi on the ice, but you make it, and you wrap your arms around him from behind, and rest your cheek to his back. Joel stops what he’s doing, muscles flexing before relaxing, and his hands come to rest on top of yours.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh.”

He turns around until he’s facing you, and there is something soft in his eyes when he cups your cheeks with his big, warm hands and leans his forehead to yours. Both of you exhale audibly, then smile together. You lick your lips, clear your throat.

“Joel…”

“I love you.” His fingers make small, soothing circles behind your ears.

He beat you to it, the rascal.

“I love you, Joel. We’ll fix this. You’ll stay with me, and we’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you.”

He tilts his head a little, lips ghosting over yours. You draw back.

“I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses you, and you let yourself melt into it, into the assurance that Joel Miller is yours, body and soul.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

A child's fear and apology.

From @strawberryscarecr0w's post about Auron having a nightmare. My idea of what happened in that room with the gun, choking (He didn't men too he sorry- please). I apologize in advance-

Auron was standing somewhere? looking around everything seemed...oh no.

BANG

Flinching he saw a door cracked open, light bleeding out of a fireplace. He knew all too well what would be behind that door if he creaked it open. But he didn't have control of his body, slowly he walked to the door and involuntarily opened it. There, right there, was him, younger, way to young to be holding that fucking gun. Breathing became more quicker as he looked to the floor where the younger version of himself was looking.

It was him, laying down holding the bullet wound where the younger him shot. Not deadly but if not treated quickly can kill him. Haunting eyes looked at his younger self, then he chuckled, god he hated that fucking chuckle had had. His skin crawled when ever he did so because he did it when he had the upper hand...

That bastard got up, as if he was bullet proof. Younger him backed up in surprise clutching the gun and raising it only for it to sound off a click. Fuck he needed another bullet! Hectic breathing was all AUuon could hear as his younger self stepped back to get distance looking for the other bullet in his pocket. But shaky hands dropped it and it rolled to his step dad.

"Fuck-" The older man lunged fore Auron's younger self hands turning into claws and becoming demon like. Auron's older self yanked the kid to him and they merged?

"What..." Chuckling was his answer as he looked up to the older man in front of him. Fuck he was shorter and younger again, his body is trembling before this man again. The years of being away from this man cracking the confidence he built over the years is being ripped away from him. Again.

"Didn't I tell you boy? You can't hurt me!" Cold dead hands held him and shook him. Resentment of the man before him caused Auron t finally move, so he grabbed for his throat. Snarling Auron gripped as hard as he could, fuck this lowlife for hurting his mom, Trish, Faust, and him!

He was able to get that waste of space off of him and on his back where Auron held tight. The older man squirmed as he slapped Auron's arms and clawed at his hands. Just shouting his name, Auron Auron AuRON AURON-

"AURON!" Screeching as he finally snapped out of it and saw he was.....chocking Rook?!

"What-ACK-" A punch was thrown at his throat and he was kicked in the stomach off of Rook. Who was gasping for air coughing up saliva that was coming up their throat. Pained cries were heard as Rook got to their knees on the bed looking at him in fear. No no no no no no!

"Rook I-" Reaching out his hand was slapped hard.

"Don't TOUCH ME!" Rook curled into themselves to make them seem smaller in the bed. They flinched when they saw his face "Just...not right now please." On the floor Auron felt numb, he hurt them? He fucking HURT THEM. Tears began to fall as he looks at his hands and buries his head in them. fuck fuck fuck-

"Auron...it's ok-" Snapping his head up he shouted "NO IT ISN'T! THIS IS NOT OKAY ROOK!" He closed his eye as Rook flinched at him. They were shaking, he was shaking fuck this really is a shitty night. A creak was heard as Rook slipped down to where Auron was sitting, they were looking at the floor with tears. Fuck the bruising on their neck was dark already.

"I know, I just....I want to make you feel better. I'm sorry-" Auron let out a pained noise.

"No. Don't apologize if anyone has too it NEEDS to be me. I'm so fucking sorry Rook. I...I- ffuck I'm-" Warmth engulfed him as Rook held his waist. And began to sob, "I...I was so fucking scared Auron....What happened?" Auron just held Rook as he sobbed too. He felt like that same kid again, crying because his step father pushed him too hard again during training days.

"I...I need to tell you something. It'll explain how this happened. And Rook?" Eyes peered up to him, puffy and wet from sobbing their heart out. "If I ever do that again please. Hurt me." Their mouth dropped at those words.

"NO! I would-" Auron gave them a pleading look and they stopped. Looking into his eyes they nodded, Auron then breathed before thinking here to start.

"My step father, I shot him when I was younger." Arms gripped him tighter as his lover said nothing.

[whumpasaurus101]

Look at me posting this on the deadline LMFAO BUT ITS NOT LATE SO LOOK AT ME GO WOOOOO. This is for @epiclamer's and @save-the-villainous-cat's super cute ask game which was GENIUS!!! This was so so much fun thank you!!! @hufflepuffwritingstuff22 had an ask in their inbox: “Hero being brainwashed and forced to fight their friends.”

---

"Please, Hero!" Sidekick's desperate voice sounded through the room. "I know this isn't you. Think of who I am! C'mon, Hero, please!!!"

Tears streamed down their face as they desperately kicked away fro the 'stranger' before them. That wasn't Hero/ Surely Hero wouldn't do this!

They whimpered as their back hit the wall, gulping hard as they watched Hero continue to stride towards them, switchblade twirling in hand.

"Oh, but Sidekick, don't you understand? This is me. All this time I have been trying to hide it,but now, bow it's too late. You've gone too far. You're a disappointment to not only me, but yourself."

Sidekick gulped as the words carved antagonizingly slow into their heart, their chest growing tight as they tried to keep their breathing level. Their eyes flickered up to Hero's, tears threatening to fall. Their voice came out as a weak rasp, "This is-isn't you..."

They had given up hope at this point, how were they supposed to get through to Hero???

A fist tightened in Sidekick's shirt and hauled them to their feet before they were suddenly slammed against the wall. Sidekick wheezed as they felt all the air leave their body, their eyes blowing wide.

They flinched hard as Hero raised their fist, squeezing their eyes shut as a whimper ripped from their throat but Hero's fist quickly collided with their cheek.

Blood splatted against the ground as they coughed, "He-h'ro... 'm.. pl'se..." Blood ran down from their mouth, their vision spotting. Punch after punch was delivered until Sidekick screamed, breaking into sobs as their body shook with each cry.

As Villain entered the door, Hero instantly dropped Sidekick to the floor. "Hero, to me."

Sidekick watched in horror, wheezing on the floor as Hero quickly made their way over to Villain before dropping to their knees.

Sidekick tried to swallow back bile as they slowly sat up, "Wha-what did you do?"

Villain chuckled softly, a cool smirk painting along their face as they looked at Sidekick, "Oh, this? Oh honey, what I did to Hero is exactly what I am going to do to you. Now Sidekick," They clicked their finger, "I need you to focus on my voice and my voice only."

Sidekick flinched back as Villain's hand rested against their head, a sudden presence filling their head as they lost full control. And suddenly it kicked in. Their thoughts weren't theirs. And as they approached Hero, a clenched fist either side, they had to watch as someone forced them to fight their mentor. Fight the last person who had fate in them. How would Hero ever forgive them?

[tamayakii]

A Blessed Day.

pairing: Otto Hightower x Reader warnings: FEM!reader, labour, kinda angsty? but otto loves u :3 note: i wrote this in like 30 minutes and did not get it beta-read or anything, so, its not the BEST

You are the youngest sister of Rhaenrya Targaryen, married off to Otto Hightower right before he is sent back to Old Town and as his wife, you follow him. You believe he does not love you as much as he does his first lady wife, the late mother of his two children.

You force yourself to be happy with this, that this was the best you could get. Always in the shadow of the Realms Delight, you envied your sisters' reputation but you still loved her more than your envy. So you've resigned yourself to being Ser Otto Hightower's second lady wife, while in Oldtown you fall pregnant, your first child.

Whilst Otto slept you worry yourself to the bone, fearing you may also meet your mother's fate. The months of your long pregnancy were delightful, with many gifts from fellow Hightowers, gifts sent from your sister and father. Even a letter from your now step-daughter, Alicent, wishing you the best.

Whilst the moon is high in the black sky, you grip your bloodied bedsheets, screaming into the fabric as you try to push your child out to no avail. You are on your knees, using the bed as support, the position was suggested by the midwife; to help the babe slip out with little to no tears. Your husband, stood outside the door, listening and waiting, holding his hands together and his head low as he listens to your screams of terror and pain.

You weep for your mother, for your sister. You wished to feel their hands combing through your hair, shushing your cries and wiping your tears. The air is punched from your lungs as another contraction comes again,

"Push!!" The Maester screams, your midwife holding your hips to still your shaking. A silent scream turns into an ear-piercing shriek, your strength had run out, leaving you sobbing.

"Otto.." you whisper, you try to push yourself up, quickly pulled back down to the floor by the Maester. Midwife wiping your sweat with a cloth, "O-Otto!"

The door is pushed open and you see your husband in his robe, his eyes widen at the scene. Having never seen you in such a state, "Please.. Please Otto, I need you." begging as you reached your hand out to him.

He is quick to your side, grasping your hand in between his own. He studies your eased expression, your cheeks stained with tears. Hair sticking to your sweaty forehead,

"I'm here.. I'm here" he reassures, retracting a hand to pet your head, trying to console you. His hand drifts down to the back of your neck, massaging the tense muscles.

"i can't do it, i can't" you weep, "I want my mother! I want my sister here, i need them! i-" Your muscles tense up again as your body forces you to push, you feel the Maesters hand go into you and you scream.

"Shh shh, it's okay, you're fine, just breathe, my dear, breathe" You listen to him, trying to take deep breaths, burying your face in the sheets as you grit your teeth and push again.

The pain is agonizing, like a fire in your cunt that never ends. The fire spreads to your back and legs as you practically roar like a dragon, pushing all of your physical and mental power in one last push.

Then the room falls silent.

A cry.

A cry breaks the room's silence, and the midwife laughs in relief. You go limp as you sigh in relief, limbs like soup.

"You've done it, the hard part is over." Otto whispers, kissing your temple, leaning his forehead against your head. One hand still holding yours and the other rubbing your back,

"What.. what is it" you whisper, Otto lifts his head and looks at you as you turn your head to face him, "are they a girl?" Otto looks at the Maester, who now returns with the babe swaddled up.

"Congratulations, you have a baby girl"

Your tears turn into a happy cry, a girl. You were right, a girl.

"I told you.. I was right" Otto turns to look at you again, a captivated look across his face. He kisses your cheek, instead of turning to grab the babe like you expected him to, he says something you never expected out of his mouth.

"I love you, My darling."

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Frustration

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Neglected

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

“Because when another man kisses me and I like it, I think we have a problem.”  

“He kissed you?!” 

“Yes, and I ran.  Because I liked it. Because I miss you.  I miss your attention, our intimacy, our love.  I need more Steve.  I can’t do this.  If you are just going to leave me here, then I should move out and move on.”    

Steve stood up quickly and stalked towards Belle. He pulled her close and kissed her hard.  She gasped and he deepened it, tasting her, relishing in her desire. He felt the wetness fall from her eyes.  He pulled back to see her crying.  “I’m sorry.”  

“Steve…” 

“No, I’m sorry.  Sorry I haven’t been here.  Sorry that I have neglected you. Sorry that you think something else is going on. I love you, my Belle.  My princess.  Don’t leave, never leave.”  

“I don’t want to. I love you. I need you. I want you. But I need more.”  

“I need you too.” He kissed her softer this time.  “I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.” He lifted her up and took her to their bed. He cradled her as she sobbed from the emotions, allowing a few tears himself. He had been so close to losing her from his own stupid actions.  “You looked beautiful tonight love. Did you have fun?” 

“It was interesting.”  

“Almost went to punch that guy out.”  

“Wasn’t his fault.”  

“I know.”  He sighed. “Promise me you’ll never kiss another man again.”  

“Promise me that you’ll explain.” She wouldn’t agree with him until she knew the truth.  

Steve woke that Sunday morning, having rested for the first time in a long time.  A flutter brushed his arm and he looked to see his sweet pea on her side, his arm still under her neck.  The air is cool in the morning so he draped a heavier blanket to keep her warm as he rises.  He stretches and heads to the kitchen.  Coffee and a conversation are needed before he can move on with Belle.  

Belle stirs and reaches for Steve, her eyes still closed.  She feels nothing and frowns, turning to open her eyes. “Steve?” 

She hears him talking loudly and creeps down to the study.  

“What the fuck are you trying to pull Sharon?” 

“I didn’t say I was seeing you.  I just said that I had a meeting at Grant.”  

Steve stars at his phone laying on his desk with venom in his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me.  You said it to drive a wedge between Belle and myself.”  

“Oh please. If she’s that insecure that should tell you something.”  

“It tells me plenty about you.  I asked you to do one thing.  Stay away from her.  And the minute you had a chance, you did this.”  

“Steve, she’s…” 

“She’s what, Sharon?  Not you.  Thank fuck for that.”  

“You don’t mean that.”  

“Don’t I? We were never meant to be together Sharon.  For fuck sakes, I was with your aunt in my past. Thank you for helping me when I needed it but Isabella is my future.”  

“Picking a child for a partner is ridiculous, Steve.”  

“I’m done with this.  Stay away from us.” He ended the call and slammed the phone down and walked to the window.  Belle steeled away back to the room and climbed into bed.  Not a minute later, Steve entered to see Belle’s back to the door.  He sighed.  “Sweet pea, I know you were listening.”  

She turned over to look at him. “How?” 

“Super hearing, my love. You were quiet but your heart rate spiked at one point.”  

Belle blushed. “I’m sorry.”  

Steve sat next to her and took her hand.  “Don’t be love.” He swept her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?” 

“Have a little headache and I’m thirsty but otherwise,” she took a breath, “just embarrassed.  We need to talk.”  

“I know.” He leans his head against hers. “We stopped communicating.”  

“You stopped,” she accused. “Steve, what is going on?” 

“Let’s get some coffee and pain relief for you.  We will talk, I promise.”  

Belle crossed her arms.  “I am only doing this because of the coffee.”  She got up and grabbed her robe.  Steve sighed.  This was not going to be easy.  

Belle made it to the kitchen as Bucky emerged, yawning.  “Belle! What are you doing here? Your security…” 

“Dropped me off here last night. I had,” she glanced at Steve, “an interesting night at the club.” She turned back to the coffee pot as Bucky and Steve exchanged a look.  

“Did someone hurt you?” 

“At the club, no.  In my home, possibly.”  She narrowed her eyes at the both of them.  

“You know, I just remembered,” Bucky said, running a hand threw his hair, “I have a meeting…” 

“You will sit James.  Just like Steven will as well.” She pointed to the table and turned into the kitchen to get the coffees.  

“Thanks a lot punk,” Bucky mumbled under his breath.  

“I’m sorry Buck.  I am,” he whispered. “Sharon set her off yesterday and there was an incident at the club,” Bucky shot his eyes at him, “with me, jerk, relax.  I may have caught her being seduced by another man and I may have reacted badly to it.”  

“I told you to tell her about Sharon.” Bucky groaned and closed his eyes. “Fuck me.”  

“If you two need me to leave you alone after that statement, just let me know.”  Belle entered with the mugs of coffee.  She set them down and then sat across from the men.  

“Belle, c’mon.”  Steve looked at her.  

“No, first you guys tell me what has been going on.  The first month here was ok. Then, I don’t know what happened. You guys abandoned me here.”  

“Sweetheart, we didn’t abandon you.  We left you here under Clint’s protection,” Bucky explained.  

Belle went to retort but Steve decided to explain. “Sweet pea, we had a threat come in concerning you.  I haven’t been going to work.  I’ve been taking trips to find the group that wants you.  I’ve stayed away because it was so hard to sleep next to you when I knew I could be doing more to protect you.”  

Belle sighed and massaged her temples. “Steve, this is never going to end.  You have to understand that.  Unless I disappear from the face of the earth, there will always be a threat because I am in love with one of the most powerful people in the world.”  

“I know love.” He groaned and tilted his head back. He took a moment and looked back at her. “I know that, and Bucky has been saying that, but I’m so scared that I’m gonna lose you.”  

“You’re losing me now by trying to shut me away and not being here.” Her tone was sharp, the pain of abandonment seeping through.  

“I’m trying to protect you!” 

Belle stood up, frustrated that Steve was not listening and paced.  “I can’t do this right now. I have to get ready for work and get my stuff from MJ’s and…” 

Steve panicked. “No, no wait.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for yelling. We need to work this out. Can you take the week? Let’s get away from the city.  Just you and me.  We can talk, rest, negotiate.”  He came around that table to stop her from pacing and put his hands on her shoulders. “Please love.  I want to fix this.”  

Belle pulled away and reached for her purse that she left on the table.  She glared at Steve and looked back at her phone.  She finally put it down and crossed her arms.  “You have one week, starting today to get me to forgive you.”  

“I can work with that.  Buck, the house,” he said.  

“Perfect.  Its secure and if we leave in the next hour, we can avoid the press and the public.”  

“Sweet pea, go and pack warm.”  

The plane touched down and Belle bounced in her seat.  “Where are we?” asking for the umpteenth time.  

“What part of surprise do you not understand, woman?” 

“What part of talk to me like that again and you will end up on the couch do you not understand Mr. Rogers?” 

Steve groaned but adjusted his jeans, her calling him by his formal title always doing something to him.  “You can’t do that sweet pea.”  

Belle shot him and innocent but flirty look.  “I didn’t do anything.”  

Lucky for both of them, Bucky had headphone in, asleep but woke when the plane jerked to pull into the private hanger.  “We here?” 

“Yeah jerk.”  

Bucky stretched. “Great.  I’ll get the car and we can finish the drive.” As soon as the door was lowered, he was out the door, while Belle and Steve waited.  

“I hate this protocol.  No one knows we’re here,” Belle complained.  

“Just because we didn’t tell anyone doesn’t mean no one knows.  This is just to keep you safe, sweet pea.”  

Belle rolled her eyes and looked out the window.  Steve shook his head and looked at his phone when it buzzed. “C’mon love.  We can go to the car.”  

Bucky drove them out of the airport and into the White Mountain National Forest per the sign Belle saw. She went to reach for her phone to take pictures before Steve pulled it from her grasp.  “Hey!” 

“No, this is for us. I don’t want people to find this place”   

“Steve!” 

“I just want your undivided attention, Miss Davis.  Promise me, we’ll try and fix this?”  

Belle sat back and looked out the window with a sigh.  Steve studied her.  In the couple of months, she had grown more beautiful in his eyes.  Her hair was a fraction longer, her skin was a little more pale from the lack of sun but still beautiful.  She started to look like a mogul’s wife, with her smart shirt and fitted jeans. She was becoming more sophisticated, every inch of her covered in his wealth.  He was proud to call her his but knew this week had to go perfectly in order to achieve that.  

An hour later, they arrived at a beautiful cabin.  From the outside, it looked like a simple cabin. But when Belle entered, it was so much more. The room was an open concept, with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a lake. A stone fireplace was lit to one side with overstuffed couches in front.  Belle could see a landing that led to several doors.  The kitchen was more modern but with a cement countertop, wood floors and cabinets and state of the art appliances.  Outside, she could see a full table and chairs for cozying around a fire pit and steps leading down to the dock. “Steve, this is beautiful.”  

“The house backs to a lake.  In the summer it would be perfect for swimming or a fire pit. For friends or… kids in the future.”  His cheeks turned pink as he rubbed his neck.  

“Oh.”  Belle chewed the corner of her bottom lip. 

“Something to think about.  Anyway, our room is on the top floor and has all the windows.  I like a lot of light since I paint here when I used to come and get away.  I can give you a tour.”  

Steve walked her through the house.  The main floor also had a sun room. The second floor had three bedrooms with ensuites in each one. “One of these is Bucky’s when he stays here but he decided to stay in the guest house down the way.”  

“I didn’t want to kick him out.”  

“He decided to. After you left on Friday, he said that we needed time together.  He doesn’t want to interfere, but he still wants to keep you safe.” Steve picked up her bag. “He’s right, we need to talk this out.  So let’s unpack and have lunch and we’ll talk ok?” 

“Ok.” Belle tried to keep her optimism but found it difficult.  Her mind still flooded with thoughts of the night before and she walked to the ensuite of the master and closed the door.  She unpacked her makeup case and toiletries, not realizing the tears coming down her face.  She covered her mouth as she tried to cover the sob.  She was lost, unsure of how to move forward. She missed Steve’s arms wrapping around her.  

“Sweet pea, what’s wrong?” He pressed kisses to her head as she continued to cry.  When she didn’t answer, he picked her up and took her back to the bed.  “It’s ok, love.”  

“No, it isn’t. Why am I still thinking of him?” 

“Because he gave you what you needed.  Because I didn’t.” Steve sighed as he leaned his head over hers. “Take a moment, my love. We’re gonna fix this ok?  I promise, I’m going to fix this.”    

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

[princessfbi]

my dearest darling — if it sparks joy:

26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.”

(I feel like it has panic attack vibes but you know best!!)

26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.”

Eddie was supposed to be getting better! That was the whole point of every other freaking Tuesday afternoon, sitting in an overstuffed chair and spilling out his guts to Frank! So he could get better; be better. What was the point of clawing his own chest, ripping out all those defenses like overgrown weeds rooted deep in his soul, if he wasn’t getting better?

It was never easy but it had been getting easier. Maybe that was the problem. Eddie had let himself fall into a false sense of security. He’d deluded himself into thinking that there was a moment in the world where he could be safe and things didn’t have to be a fight. But that had been a mistake because there he was in the goddamn freezer section of his super market fighting for every ounce of oxygen in the store.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough and Eddie was going to suffocate with Marie Calendar frozen pot pies behind him. He’d drawn his knees up to his chest and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes so hard that he couldn't even see past the stars of pain and he just tried to breathe but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working and Eddie was there again! His heart racing. His body, small and defenseless. Sand, pavement, cheap linoleum, it all felt the same on his raw, brittle skin. And there were eyes. So many eyes. People staring. People looking as he fell apart. People terrified. People assessing. People calculating where to aim to spill the most of his blood!

He wasn’t safe! He wasn’t safe! He wasn’t—

“Eddie!”

The shrill ringing in Eddie’s ears splintered for only one voice and that voice did so much more than any counting or mental cataloguing of his surroundings ever could.

Buck.

Buck was home. Buck was sunlight and warm smiles. Buck was summer nights when the air was finally cool and the beers in his hand were just for show. Buck was… safe.

“Eddie! Hey! Hey!”

Each word from Buck was like a bullet that ricocheted into Eddie’s chest. It punched him in the heart, the stomach, the throat and forced him to gasp. So, Eddie gasped.

And then the first taste of oxygen on his chest had him sobbing.

Eddie reached blindly as he bawled, terror seizing his chest. But he knew Buck was there. Buck was safety. Buck wouldn’t leave—

Warm hands grasped Eddie’s own and he jolted like it was another punch to the chest. But between the crying and the suffocating, the exhale that time tripped on the knot in Eddie’s throat, and he couldn’t breathe again. His skin was too hot and too cold. His heart was going to crack through his ribs. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear and the ringing was turning into a wild wailing in his ears. Danger danger danger screamed in his head and Buck was there. Buck was there because Eddie put him there and now he couldn’t—

“Breathe Eddie!”

Buck. Buck was there. Buck had always been there. He’d gone to the cereal aisle to claim his prize after Eddie lost a stupid bet. Buck had been in the Jeep driving him there. Buck had been in his living room, laughing and smiling because he had guessed almost every item of Eddie’s list.

Buck had dragged him out. Out of the open. Under the truck. Out of his room. Under the shelter love and family and support.

His knuckles ached. He was squeezing Buck too hard. But Buck was squeezing back just as tightly and Buck wanted him to breathe.

He could. He could. He just needed to remember how.

Eddie shook his head, gasping, hyperventilating as the world started to get spotty.

Then Eddie’s hand was being pressed against a chest. A broad, warm chest that rose and dipped like a rolling wave.

“Follow me,” Buck said and that was easy.

Eddie would follow Buck off the edge of the world if he asked.

The first few steps— breaths— were clumsy and stilted with spit flying from his lips and snot clogging his nose. But he tried and he tried and he tried because Buck asked him to and because Eddie wasn't going to be like this anymore. He wasn't going to let his fear win. He was not a victim of his terror. He was a survivor, a fighter, and he was going to—

The first real breath of air tasted like copper on his tongue but it went down his throat and into his lungs, filling them so they could inflate in his chest. Buck's hot breath fanned over Eddie's too cold skin, flushed and thin, and warmed him to the core. Eddie mimicked him and exhaled.

“Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.” Buck kept saying in the stream of reassurances that usually made Eddie's skin itch with being treated so delicately. He hated it. But he was starved for it when it came from Buck. "In and out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Buck was there. Buck was safe. But Buck was... Buck could...

"Are you hurt?" Eddie thought he asked.

He needed to know. He couldn't see and he needed to know that Buck was alright! That Buck was safe! He held his breath tight in his chest and refused to let go until he knew that Buck was okay. Because if Buck wasn't then Eddie would rather suffocate so that Buck could have the air instead.

"I'm okay," Buck said, breathless too. "I'm okay. We're okay, Eddie."

And Eddie collapsed into the space of Buck's chest and tried to remember how to breathe.

[ninapi]

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

Save me (Kageyama Version)

Premise: Friendship is a fragile thing. Keeping you safe was his priority for the longest time, but overcoming hardships along someone you hold dear form irreplaceable, indestructible bonds, and a childhood friend can easily become the love of your life; or so that was for Kageyama Tobio.

Word Count: 2359

Warning: Toxic Oikawa coming through- 🫣

Chapter 3: Broken

The evening breeze came to an end bringing deep heavy moisture into the air, suddenly breathing became difficult and even if the moon shines bright in its highest point, it feels like being swallowed by an infinite darkness.

Tobio wasn’t one to read much into a situation, he was straightforward, naïve even. Complex situations weren’t his strength and he avoided them at all costs. But there was one complex situation in particular that he couldn’t get away from no matter how hard he tried.

You took interest in him when majority of people despised him, you smiled for him, cared for him like no other, you were worth his time, his effort, even if that came with an awful sense of dread.

“So, what if I was?” you were tugging on Tobio’s sleeve, wanting nothing to do with the man in front of you. Avoiding this sort of encounters was always the goal when it came to your friendship, Oikawa meant uncomfortable situations more often than not, your day couldn’t get more difficult.

Oikawa contemplated his reply, he was just mocking Tobio, he never really expected him to want to kiss his girl. He knew you, you always had Tobio in a little pedestal, always sang his victories, always worried for his well-being even when your own boyfriend was the one causing said discomfort. He knew you would always take his side no matter what, he knew today wouldn’t be an exception and that made his blood boil. “And why would she let you kiss her? Why would I let you kiss her? She’s mine, never forget that Tobio-chan.”

Tears started falling from your eyes like waves in a stormy day. You weren’t sad nor scared, you were just tired of this entire situation.

Locking yourself away for over a year had been a complete waste of time, of energy. He found you anyways and he hasn’t changed one bit. You lost so many opportunities to enjoy your first high school year, all due to fear and you were the only one to blame, it was your decision, the easiest way to deal with the problem was running away from it. But it was all for nothing, he was there standing in front of you, ready to punch your world upside down once more.

You were tired of being embraced by dread, fear, instability, all you wanted was to move on.

“The one that keeps forgetting things it’s you. How can you still think you have some type of right over her when you haven’t seen her in over a year?”

“She will always be mine, you can’t escape your destiny, no matter how far you try to run away from it.”

This situation was exhausting, you were so tired of this man and his self-righteousness. Your knees were getting weak, and you couldn’t keep up with what was going on after hearing Oikawa’s words. Before you could realize what happened, you found yourself knees deep in mud, breath ragged and unstable, the sobbing getting out of hand.

You just wanted this to end.

Tobio crouched beside you, resting one of his hands on your lower back offering his support both physically and emotionally. He’s not a man of many words, he doesn’t know how to make others feel better, how can someone even feel better in a situation like this. But he learned through you that just being there for someone can be as powerful as a pep talk, all he had to offer was expressed in that one simple action, you were the only one that mattered, and you always read him like an open book.

“Sweetie, why are you crying? I thought you’d be happy to go on a date with me. We can go get some dinner, maybe watch a movie, you could even come to my house if you want to, mom still asks about you. Come on, get up, let’s get going.” he was approaching your shaky self and even if his words were kind enough for anyone that heard them, you could hear the sharp end hidden in the dripping honey, this wasn’t a request, it was an order.

“I don’t feel like going on a date, Toru. Can you please go home?” you didn’t want things to escalate but you also didn’t want him to come back looking for you again, it was a blurry line you had to wonder carefully around to avoid conflict. “Is this about Tobio-chan again? I’ll let this one time go just for you, ok. Let’s go, pumpkin. I want to cuddle you to sleep tonight.” he was now tugging you up by the hem of your shirt, his rough actions not matching his sweet nothings, as usual.

“Stop pulling her like that, she’s not a dog on a leash. Why don’t you get it? She doesn’t want to go, even I can see that.” Tobio tugged you gently, nestling you on his side, a protective arm around your waist. It was weird how he always managed to make you feel safe with such little effort. “Sorry but I don’t really care for what you think you see or don’t. I know her, she’s been with me for years, she’s always like this and then ends up enjoying our time together, she’s just a handful you see, but I know how to deal with her.”

Your guts were having a party inside your body, chills were littering your otherwise soft skin. You wanted to be strong enough to reject him, but you didn’t want one of his violent outbursts to come right after, he did try to hit Tobio the last time that happened. “Toru, I need you to understand that we aren’t together anymore. Please don’t come looking for me, I won’t go on dates with you, I don’t have feelings for you any longer. Let’s call Iwaizumi-san, maybe he can go for dinner with you and have a good time.”

“You don’t have feelings for me any longer? So who do you have feelings for now? Don’t tell me is the pathetic child holding you, that would make me laugh.”

Kageyama was physically there, but his mind was running a thousand miles per minute, it felt like a match point kind of situation if he loses focus the entire thing would go south. “Again, so what if she did? What matters now is that she doesn’t want you here.” he could feel your hammering heart against his ribs, this would get bad soon he could feel it in the air, he had to get you out of there, fast.

“Ok, ok. I see today’s not the day. Give me your phone, baby girl. Let’s meet over the weekend, I’m sure you’ll feel better by then, you’re probably too tired.” He just wouldn’t get it no matter what you said, no matter what you did.

This was getting out of control and Kageyama didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t rely on you, you were too broken to think of a plan, a diversion. He needed to think quickly if he was to even dream of seeing you again, having Oikawa back in your life would not only drift you two apart once more but it was potentially harmful for you.

Tobio suddenly remembers this one manga he took from Hinata’s school bag the other day after practice. He kept on raving about how it was the best ending he’s ever read before and how he couldn’t believe it was actually a shojo manga he took from his little sister’s room. It was quite good even for Kageyama’s standards and said ending did make an impression on him, the scene he was currently in seemingly similar to the dramatic ending of the story.

Without putting much thought into it, he grabbed your face with both of his hands, bringing your face up to his, pressing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It was a fleeting moment, a confusing one at that, but you could feel every single muscle in your body relax. His lips were warm, soft, inviting, as soothing as lips could ever be. Not even once before you thought about kissing him, but now you regret not doing it sooner. It felt so right, like that was the most natural, obvious thing to ever happen.

Oikawa on the other hand was seeing red, if there was one thing he wouldn’t allow would be his girl being taken away by the one person he holds the deepest grudge in his life. Deep inside he always knew this would happen, he was the only reason you broke up, the only reason you fought, everything would be easier if Tobio wasn’t there to ruin his life. “What do you think you are doing, you scum! Get away from my woman!”

But his words only fired up a seeping desire hidden within you. Grabbing a hold of Tobio’s collar you brought him even closer to you, deepening the kiss. This was his first kiss, he didn’t really know what he was doing, but he trusted you. He knew this wasn’t about Oikawa anymore, this was your first shared kiss and in it there were many unspoken feelings lingering. He closed his eyes mimicking your own actions, one of his hands wondered down to your waist to keep you in place while the other remained on the side of your face. Your lips tasted like cherry lip gloss, he’s never tasted anything sweeter before. Not even Oikawa’s hysterical shouts were enough to break the magic spell you had him in. It was short lived, but the hazy look in your eyes, slightly disoriented, lips parted in a soft panting, red tinged cheeks, were driving the man insane, making him dive in for another kiss, this one getting heated rather quickly.

Oikawa was speechless.

No matter how many nasty insults came out of his mouth, no matter how many times he tried to physically pull you two away, there was no way to break you two apart. It was like some sort of magnet held you pressed against each other, dulling your senses to anything but the other.

Annoyed with his own life, Oikawa decided to leave for the moment. He needed to reorganize his thoughts, this wasn’t unexpected, but he still didn’t think he would live to see it happen right up on his nose.

You never kissed him like that, not even once. It was such a desperate hungry kiss, tugs, pulls, pants, gasps, it wasn’t something someone should witness in front of a school, it was something you just shouldn’t witness at all. It drove him mad, anxious even. So, he walked aimlessly into the darkness of an alley way without any of you noticing his departure.

Kiss after kiss, thirty minutes went by. There were no words, just kisses, caresses, meaningful glances. That was Kageyama Tobio for you, intense, kindhearted, solely focused on his task at hand. Whether that’d be in volleyball or a make out session, it’s always been the hottest thing.

 “(Y-y/N), I…I…” he was trying to come up with an explanation, he didn’t want you to think he kissed you just to shut Oikawa up, it was what he intended at first, but right now it wasn’t in the slightest, you were the only one in his eyes, not even the break down from earlier mattered anymore to any of you.

He thinks of the way he felt hours earlier in the gym when his eyes finally met yours after such a long time. Many things were felt in that moment and that’s something that doesn’t happen often for him, besides annoyance and hunger there’s not many things he dares to say he feels in a daily basis. But in that moment, he felt seen, he felt wings spring out of his back, your smile entrancing him closer like a moth to a lamp. He’s known this for a while, but always pushed it to a corner of his brain where things he doesn’t care for live, like math. But now he just couldn’t run away from his feelings anymore, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it, even breathing was hard ever since he saw you today.

“I know, Tobio. I do too, probably for a while, don’t know for sure since when, but yeah. I do too.” your voice was nothing but a whisper, no one but him would be able to hear this. You didn’t need him to say it, you know him, it’s always been hard for him to express himself, but you could see it in his eyes, the adoration, and years of longing, all was pouring out of his beautiful blue eyes, no words were necessary.

Plunging for one more kiss before leaving, he sighs against your lips happily. It felt great having someone who understands you to the point where you don’t have to even talk, it was particularly good for him since he has such a hard time being honest with himself, but that struggle wasn’t necessary with you, you saw right through him like if his heart had some sort of transparent sheet covering it. You’ve always been like that since the very beginning of your friendship and that’s what got him so deep into this.

“Tell me when you get home, ok?” nuzzling his cheek with the tip of your nose, you gave him the softest smile he’s ever seen, digging holes into his internal organs. “Yeah, go in. I’ll wait until you’re inside just in case.”

You both were aware that Oikawa wasn’t there anymore, but none of you noticed when he left, if he said or did something, all he could see was you and all you could see was him.

An unexpected way to end the night, but wonderful nonetheless.

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Tagged babes:@dazaisfavgf @lauraagrace @san-emi

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[roseianxiety]

you pulled me out of my thoughts

Ship: Prinxiety (can be platonic or romantic)

Content Warning: heavy angst, panic attacks, crying, blood (mild), bruises (mild/mentioned), hurt/comfort

Author's Note: I wrote like, 80% of this while I was half-asleep and around midnight so I apologize if there are any errors. I am open to constructive criticism.

Also, this fic takes place after SvS Redux

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He stumbled into his room as tears finally started rolling down his face. He'd been trying so hard not to cry, he hadn't let himself have a single moment of weakness since... Roman shook his head to push those thoughts away. He was supposed to be strong, wasn’t he? That was what he told himself at least. He couldn't afford to show any more weaknesses than he already does, what will the others think if they saw him like this? So pathetic and weak... not strong enough to be someone's hero.

Roman let out a broken sob as he tries to wipe the tears that continue to flow endlessly. His breath hitches in fear and his eyes water even more because it still hurts too much to breathe and the tears won't stop flowing. His knees went weak and he eventually dropped to the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore. The world around him had gotten blurry from the tears falling steadily from his eyes. He didn’t hear anything, only felt the pain, heard nothing but the sound of his own muffled sobs and crying. The sound of his heartbeat reverberated inside his head, making his entire body feel heavy. It felt like everything was crushing his lungs, suffocating him.

What did he do wrong? Why did they choose Deceit over him? Deceit is the villain, he is the HERO. At least, that's what he was. Yet he failed to become one. Was he not enough? Too cowardly to take up an opportunity given to him? Too weak-hearted, too fragile. Too... broken. He should've done better. He knew he should've done better.

But what good is being a hero if you can't even help yourself? Why couldn't he be strong?

The room spun in front of his eyes again as another wave of tears escaped his eyes. He clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth clacked together painfully. He forced himself to stand up from the ground, his knees still wobbly. Roman walked slowly towards the bathroom, stumbling on his feet every once in a while as he struggled to keep himself standing upright. Once he was inside the bathroom, he looked at the mirror, at his reflection. His tear-filled brown eyes stared back at him. There were black rings under his eyes and tears stained his cheeks. His usually styled hair was a mess and... God, he looks so horrible. He looked so... weak. And helpless.

Without a thought, he punched the mirror in front of him, breaking it into pieces. Roman looks at his shaky fist, knuckles bruised and bloodied. The shards of glass dug into his skin but he was too numb to care. Blood dripped off the wounds to the floor. He looked up from his fist back to the mirror, now looking at his cracked reflection in the mirror in front of him. He could see the small fragments of glass scattered all around his feet. He was bleeding all over the bathroom tiles. His chest was heaving with shallow breaths and Roman could feel a sudden wave of dizziness come over him.

He backed away from the sink, the world was spinning around him and everything started getting fuzzy. His head started pounding loudly in his ears, he was breathing heavily, gasping desperately for air. He dropped to the floor once more as his legs gave in. What little strength he had left in his limbs vanished as he sat there on the cold, tiled floor. Tears continued pouring down his face without ceasing as his breaths came in shallow hiccups. Roman curled into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest as he buried his head against them. He closed his eyes shut tightly, squeezing them shut in hopes of stopping his tears. This would pass, right? Everything would just go away and it’ll all be back to normal soon.

His breathing quickened as he tried desperately to calm down. He couldn’t. His body refused to cooperate, his mind kept telling him to breathe, breathe. He needed to stay calm, he needs to get himself together.

Unaware, he didn't notice someone had come into the bathroom, their voice was muffled over Roman's racing thoughts and his hyperventilating until he felt a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his panicked state.

"–man. Roman!"

Roman looked at the person and realized that it was Virgil. Roman opened his mouth but no words would escape. He could barely breathe properly, his chest was hurting so badly. It was as though someone was pulling on his lungs, trying to pull them apart.

"Hey, you need to breathe. Do you still remember that breathing technique? Can you do that for me, alright?" Virgil asked gently, kneeling beside him and wiping his tear-stained cheeks.

Roman shook his head and Virgil spoke, "Okay. Breathe in for 4 seconds,". Roman followed along, breathing in. "...hold for 7,". Roman followed suit, holding for 7 seconds. "Then out for 8.". He breathes out

"Good job, Ro. Do it again until your breathing is normal, yeah?" Virgil said encouragingly. Roman nodded and continued doing as instructed until his breathing became even. When he finished, Virgil patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Are you alright now, Ro?". The other nodded once again at his question but did not speak even just a mere word. "Good." Virgil smiled warmly at his friend.

"Can you talk? Can you tell me what happened— oh okay." Virgil queries but Roman immediately shook his head before he could even continue his question. He didn't want to bother Virgil with unnecessary things, he had already made him worried. "You don't have to say it if you don't want to," Virgil assured him quietly. He then glances at Roman's hands, noticing the bruised knuckles, a frown forming on his lips. He remembers the glass shards and the cracked mirror when he entered the bathroom earlier, realizing what happened then.

"I should patch these up or they'll get infected... Where's your first aid kit?"

Roman raised his hand and pointed at the bathroom cabinet beside the mirror. Virgil walked over there swiftly and grabbed the kit out of the cabinet. He then walked back and kneeled in front of Roman, starting to disinfect the cuts on Roman’s hands using some antiseptic wipes. Roman hissed in pain as Virgil cleaned the cuts. "Sorry..." The anxious façet apologized softly as he continued cleaning the cuts, occasionally glancing at the other with concern etched into his expression.

After several minutes of careful work by Virgil, all of the cuts were bandaged and Roman sat properly on the bathroom floor, inspecting the other's work. Virgil stood up and placed the first aid kit back in its usual spot on the cabinet. He then turned to look at Roman. "Do you need help getting up?". The other declined his offer and tried to stand up by himself but his feet didn't cooperate and he almost fell back down if it weren't for Virgil quickly assessing him back up.

He took Roman's arms and helped him to his feet. "There we go, let's get you changed and into bed, yeah? You look like shit, man, no offense though. A rest will do you good." Virgil explained, guiding Roman back to his bedroom. The other let him do so, simply nodding his head silently.

"You should change your clothes, they got some blood on them," Virgil commented. Roman looked down at his tunic and it indeed was stained with some blood. Roman grimaced and nodded. Virgil turned away as Roman quickly got changed into fresh pajamas, once he was done changing, he sat down and tucked himself in his bed.

"Virge?"

"Yeah?" He replied as he looked back at Roman.

Roman smiles at him softly as he spoke with a hoarse voice, "Thank you...". Virgil gave him another smile back. "Anytime.". The two of them stayed silent after that until Virgil cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "I should leave you be now so you can rest properly.".

Roman's eyes widened as he exclaimed, his voice breaking slightly. " Please stay!—". Virgil looked at him, surprised, before sighing, and giving him a small nod. "Alright, I'm staying.". Roman scooted a bit so Virgil can sit beside him. The anxious façet did that, sitting beside him. Roman shifted so his head was resting on Virgil's shoulders instead of lying on the bed and closed his eyes. Virgil looked at him for a while before wrapping his arms around the other and resting his chin atop Roman's head gently. There was a soft silence for a moment before Roman spoke up again.

"Wh-why are you doing this?" Roman whispers, voice shaking ever so slightly, voice cracking ever so slightly. He sounded pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. "Because... because I care about you, " Virgil responded simply, carding his fingers through Roman's hair.

"But why? I'm a huge jerk and I'm not strong enough to be anyone's hero. I can't even help myself." Roman exclaimed as he pulled away from Virgil and looked up at him with watery eyes. Virgil frowned at him as he cupped the sides of Roman's face lightly.

"Stop thinking that way, you're strong, you don't need to prove anything to anyone. You can always rely on yourself, you're not weak, Ro, none of us think you are. Everyone has flaws, everyone makes mistakes. But we learn from them and we try to improve. We can't help it. Nobody is perfect." Virgil said as he caressed his cheek carefully with his thumb. "Even you." He added.

Roman stared at him for a while before bursting into tears which alarmed Virgil more. He wrapped his arms around the crying side, rubbing circles on his back soothingly. "Shh, it's okay. It’s okay." He whispered over and over as Roman began sniffling and trying to control his cries. Virgil waited patiently for him to finish, stroking his curls softly until his tears subsided.

He hadn't seen Roman cry before and seeing him like this, vulnerable, made his heart break a little bit more. Virgil was so used seeing Roman being all tough and confident, he was arrogant, dramatic and obnoxious. But this Roman in his arms, he was so different from the princely side that he knew. Virgil never imagined he could see the other like this. But despite that, Virgil was still amazed by Roman's strength and bravery.

Virgil was snapped out from his thoughts when he heard Roman mutter something quietly but he didn't quite catch it. "What was that?" He questioned in a soft tone. He just then realized that Roman had finally stopped crying.

Roman spoke softly, "It's weird witnessing you being all soft and caring. If I wasn't crying my eyes out, I would've teased you about it." He then finished his sentence with a soft chuckle.

Virgil scoffed softly before rolling his eyes, "Welcome back, Princey. And shut up.". There was an air of relief to his tone and Roman relaxed into the touch, his body relaxing into Virgil's embrace slowly. "You okay now?" He questions Roman who nods in response. Virgil didn't bother to ask any other questions, not wanting to force Roman to talk if he was uncomfortable.

"Again, thank you, Virgil. Really... Thank you." Roman says, snuggling close to Virgil. Virgil smiled fondly at him, bringing a hand up and running his fingers along Roman's hair lightly. "Anytime, Ro. Now, get some beauty sleep, you look like a ten-wheeler truck ran over you.".

"I'll sleep only if you'll cuddle me."

"Really, Princey? Do I have to?"

"Pretty pleaseee?"

"Ugh, fine."

*****************

Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)

[meowgician-ness]

Regulus shows James the deatheater mark but James is the sun and won’t leave him so easily.

Each step felt like walking on fire barefoot, his lungs struggling to take in oxygen. Regulus’ words played over and over again in his head, worry seeping into his features as his hands trembled slightly from where they were stuffed into his pocket.

“We need to talk.” scribbled in the familiar, fancy script on the corner of a cheap napkin, the words sat in his pocket, his fingers fiddling with it every now and then.

“Regulus?” He forced the words out of where they were stuck in his throat, opening the door to the ‘Come and Go’ room and scanning it for the only person on his mind, his heart hammering in his chest.

“James.” sharp grey eyes met warm hazel, the rims red from what had to be at least an hour of crying. A red and yellow sweater, James’ sweater, hung loosely off his shoulder, exposing the pale skin beneath. His finger fidgeted with the rings on them, one silver snake with emerald eyes calling out to the Gryffindor.

“Hey, love. Got your note, what’s wrong?” He tried. He did. Tried so hard to believe that nothing was wrong, that Regulus just wanted to talk about plans for the holidays, that they were okay. But he couldn’t stop his voice from breaking and cracking as he said those words, as he thought about the note sitting in his pocket.

“Yeah, James I–we, we can’t do this. You–you deserve so much better.” He averted his eyes at the last part, not letting James look into his eyes and decipher his emotions.

“What? Reg–I, I don’t need any better. I need you. Regulus Arcturus Black, you’re all I need. I don’t need better, there is no better–” He could feel tears threatening to spill out, his heart breaking into pieces in his chest.

“No! You don’t get it! I’m not a bad person, I’m a cruel person, I’m my mother’s son, James.” Regulus cut him off, looking up now, tears streaking down his face.

“Your mother, is that it? She put you up to this? Reg, fuck her. She doesn’t get to dictate your life.” He reached forward for him, his finger tightening around the sleeve of his sweater, carefully not to touch Regulus himself. Gently he tugged him towards him, meeting him in the middle of the room, right beside the four-poster bed in the centre of the room.

“You don’t get it,” His voice cracked and cut him up inside, wobbly and shaky and nothing like how he was raised to speak. But he was talking to James Potter, and he always could make Regulus do things his mother would hate to know about.

Raising one shaky hand, he pulled the sleeve of his sweater up, revealing his left arm. And Merlin did it hurt seeing James’ face fall, taking in a deep breath like he was just punched in the gut.

“Regulus–I, you, why?” He walked past Regulus to collapse onto the bed, his arms resting on his knees as he reached forward to pull Regulus in, letting him collapse into his arms, completely enveloped in all that is James Potter.

“I was so so scared James. He was there and I–I blacked out, I couldn’t think he just–he was just there and I was too scared to say no, I’m so sorry James, I’m so sorry, I should have said ‘no’, I could’ve but he was just so–I was just–” his voice cracked, his sobs getting louder and ridding his lungs of any air.

“Shh, shh, slowly, Regulus, slowly. Who was there? Who is he?” Rubbing circles into Regulus’ back, he pulled him up and onto his lap so he could look into Regulus’ eyes, see the pain, see the way he trembled as he breathed in, fingers tightening around Jame’s shirt.

“The dark lord–Voldemort, he was there James, she called him there,” He gasped out, fingers tightening around James’ wrist.

“Shh, look at me Reggie. Up here, love, yes,” gently tilting Regulus’ head up, he encouraged him to look into his eyes, moving one thumb up to brush his tears away.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, James,” Regulus’ voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes wide and showing so much more emotion than he would usually allow.

“You trust in me, and I trust in you. That’s what we do Reg. We get through this together, me and you.” James flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile at Regulus, leaning back and plopping down onto the bed with him in his arms.

“Cry it out love, let it all out. We’ll deal with this when you’re ready, okay? I’ll wait,” He leaned over to say, his voice soft and soothing. Gently, he ran his hands through Regulus’ curls, holding him close until the shaking became barely noticeable trembles.

“I—My brother, James,” he whispered against James’ collarbone, burying himself into the crook of his neck, the tears gone but his body still shaking slightly.

“I’ll handle Sirius, we can handle Sirius,” he whispered into his ear, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp.

“It’ll—We’ll be okay, Regulus. I promise,”

[crappymixtape]

chasing myself

when the full moon comes the light is so bright, not even hiding in the shadows can save you | ( 1k, remus lupin • TW: bodily changes, graphic language, angst ) – NOTE: reblogs are SO appreciated! my first stab at remus outside of RPing.

C H A S I N G M Y S E L F 🎵 die alone, FINNEAS

Cool light fell through the cracks in the old wooden siding, slivers of the moon slipping across the floor and up the walls. Tiny specks of dust playing in the breeze as it swept through the shack and giving an air of peace. Of quiet. Of night and drifting off to sleep and for some, for most, it might have been but not for Remus.

Not now.

The silence was broken with a slam. The door of the master bedroom clattering in its hinges as Remus flung it open. Chest heaving and breaths stuttering, his knuckles turned white as he grabbed hold of the frame on the four post bed ahead of him, trying so hard to let go. To not fight against the pressure filling his body and spilling over at the edges.

He knew it was useless, painful even to try and push away from it, but it was instinctual to resist. To try and stop his body from turning into something out of the pages of his Defense Against Dark Arts text book. It wasn’t him, not like this, and yet he found himself bending and falling servant to the night sky with every single full moon.

This night was no different.

Swallowing thickly he sucked in gasps of air, loosened the tie around his neck as it choked him and blinked hard against the pressure building behind his eyes, watching as the world around him blurred. Body adjusting and shifting to become more acclimated with the dark, the shadows, the night. There were beads of sweat creeping across his skin now, hair swept and messy and stuck across his forehead and his frame shook as he felt the creature inside him begin to emerge.

“Argh!” he cried out, doubling over like someone had just punched him in the gut, the corners of his eyes stinging with tears. Angry. Frustrated. Scared.

Head flinging back he gripped the wooden bed frame so hard it cracked, splintered in his hands as he loosed a cry that stretched out long and painful. Animalistic. Not human.

Howling.

“Fucking hell!” he sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut, tears chasing down the curve of his cheeks, the slope of his jaw, his neck as it strained. Muscles tensing and stretching as the wolf began to claw its way out

Where were James, Sirius and Peter? Gods let them come soon, please let them come soon! he prayed to no one.

Another convulsion ripped through him, much stronger this time and he stumbled sideways. Collapsing to the floor on his hands and knees. The noises coming from him now were constant. Jaw clenched against the gasps and groans falling from his lips, teeth grinding as they deepened into low growls.

“It will end,” he breathed to himself, “It will end. It will end. It will–”

A sharp inhale, another convulsion, a painful wail. Cracks filled the air as his bones finally gave way to the transformation he was helpless to prevent and a howl ripped from his throat as he heaved up on his knees. Back arching his shirt split open across his chest as his ribs and spine snapped, the hair on his arms and legs lengthening, fingers stretching out and giving way to sharp claws made for tearing.

Words had no meaning anymore, all he knew now were the sounds that were pushing themselves from his snout. His head felt like it was going to split open as his jaw popped, grew big enough to hold a mouthful of canine teeth and they clicked together as he snapped it open and shut.

He could feel it was almost over, felt his trousers tear at the legs as his limbs lengthened, loosed a bloodcurdling scream into the air that could be heard across the Black Lake. Could be heard in Gryffindor Tower, the greenhouses, Dumbledore’s office.

Remus Lupin, now werewolf, was a hollow shell of himself as he finally collapsed to the floor of the shack. He sucked in labored breaths, tried to center himself, acclimating to what would be his new form that night until his ears pricked up at a sound. Three distinct sounds.

A dog black as night, a regal pronged buck and a shy skittering rat scrambling up the stairs and throwing themselves through the same doorway Remus had not ten minutes prior and his mind was flooded with their voices.

Moony! Christ, Remmy. Are you okay? M’sorry, Moony. M’so sorry. We came as fast as we could!

Finally, the only thread of sanity he could hang onto through all of it had come. Finally, their warmth wrapped around him safe and steady Finally, he could heave a sigh from his lungs.

Not better off alone. Not better off dead. Loved. Held. A hand in the dark to cling to through the temporary madness and when he opened his eyes he felt himself grasp the monster within, taming it through the other sets of eyes that were looking back at him.

Moony, we're here.