#it’s one of those days where you’re constantly struggling with thoughts of ending it

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[roturo]

BACK FOR MORE

lovers to exes to lovers, smut, breeding kink, name calling, possessive behavior, and more yk.

Loving Gojo Satoru had always come with its challenges. He was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, an unstoppable force, and his unwavering devotion to his duty often left you feeling like an afterthought. Lately, however, something had shifted, and the cracks in your relationship had grown wider. His once frequent messages had become rare, and the days between your meetings felt like an eternity– It was as though Gojo had become a ghost, lost in the relentless warfare against the curses that plagued the world.

"Gojo, we need to talk," you started, your tone dripping with resentment.

He raised an eyebrow– the use of his last name instead of his name or any nicknames making the air thickening with tension. "Alright, what's eating you up babycakes?" His teasing attitude never leaves him, someway always making you feel comforted by it.

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "I can't do this, Gojo. I can't be in a relationship where I'm constantly fighting for your attention, where I feel like I'm not enough." 

"What do you mean by that?" He scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "I have responsibilities, you know that."  He couldn’t believe you’re being serious, you always knew how important work is for him in these moments. "Come on, it's not that big of a deal."

Your anger flared, and your voice rose. "Not that big of a deal? It's been weeks since we had a decent conversation, and I haven't seen you in ages! Do you even care about us anymore?"

He crossed his arms, frustration etching his features. "You're overreacting, as usual. I'm doing my job, protecting people from curses. It's not personal."

You clenched your fists, feeling like you were about to explode. "It is personal, Gojo- We- Shit.. Our relationship is personal, and you're treating it like it's nothing! I can't do this anymore."

The tension hung heavily in the air as Gojo stared at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The love that once united you now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the searing anger of a relationship on the brink of collapse.

Gojo's expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You don't understand the dangers I face every day, the lives at stake. You're being selfish, demanding my attention when I have more important things to worry about."

Your anger flared, and you stepped forward to meet him. "Selfish? You're the one who's being selfish, Gojo! You're using your duty as an excuse to push me away, to avoid dealing with our problems."

He clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes blazing. "Maybe you're right, maybe we should just end this."

Weeks turned into months, and life without Gojo Satoru had become a strangely bittersweet existence. The initial days were a whirlwind of emotions, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You no longer felt the weight of his absence, but the void he left behind was undeniable.

At first, you struggled with the solitude, the quiet nights where his laughter used to fill the space, and the empty side of the bed that seemed to taunt you with memories. It was as if you had lost a part of yourself, and the healing process felt agonizingly slow. You tried meeting new people, but everything fell into broken pieces.

Shoko decided to invite you to a party to close those wounds, never expecting they’ll be fixed up in another way.  The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His bright blue eyes behind those small black glasses forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long, you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.

His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…

"You want something to drink?"

The sudden voice of your best friend woke you up from the staring fight between the handsome guy seated at the couch and your broken heart coming alive again. "Uh- Wha?- Yeah… Vodka is okay." Everything felt unreal, like it was a dream.

Shoko came back but couldn’t find you anywhere to be found. You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.

"I know you would come back for more baby-"

"No-" you lifted your hand to stop him. "Don’t. All I know is if I walk out that door again, I would be coming back for more again and again… So let this be the last time."  But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.

You found yourself at his bed again.. at his mercy again. "I’m so sorry babycakes, please, let me show you how much you mean to be." When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.

This was against his life plans, against his priorities. But Gojo himself just knew that he wanted you. And that he didn’t want to let you go ever again, especially not to another guy. It was then when he realized that letting you go was probably the biggest mistake he had made in his young life so far. He realized you were his more important prioritie, he would kill the higher-ups if he needed to fuck- the entire world if you asked him too, all to have you in his arms again.

His hands vanished under your shirt, making their way up with the light fabric between his fingers, then taking it off entirely. You wouldn’t ask anything anymore. Even if this was only a one time thing, if it made you that happy only for a few moments after sorrowful past weeks, then you were willing to take everything that came after.

"I missed… this… so much…" he murmured against our skin when he kissed down to your cleavage.

Taking off your bra with one fluid motion, Gojo wanted to work on your breasts when he suddenly stopped.

You got scared that he’d interrupt everything he had just begun and just walk out of the door, but the thought was pushed aside quickly when he laid his mouth on your left nipple, cupping it with his wet lips.

"You had another man kiss your body?..." Gojo suddenly asked, pulling on your sensitive tip with his teeth.

"Ah!” you yelped. "Wha—" What is he talking about?

"Apparently no. Good."

He grinned before he left butterfly kisses on the breast he had just bruised like he wanted to apologize, making you shiver in pleasure. Rubbing his thumb around the right peak, he was grinding against your hips. You quickly got wet all over before he suddenly grabbed your other breast tightly, crushing his lips onto it like he had just discovered something he had never seen before.

"Gojo–!" You squealed. 

It wasn’t painful at all for you, it was only surprising. But he just smirked against your skin, moving his tongue around your nipple, sucking and licking on it.

"Who am I?" he suddenly asked, bringing his head back up to your face again.

"What?" you breathed.

"What’s my name?"

"Sa…toru…?" It was more of a question than a confident answer.

"Yes, and I am the one who is doing this to you. The only one. Don’t you dare to forget it."

" ‘Toru, what are you…?!"

He unbuttoned your pants, removing them along with your panties before undressing himself entirely and tossing all clothes aside. Gojo  then pressed his length against your entrance as he laid himself back on top of you, sliding his hard-on up and down your folds. A grin appeared on his face as he felt you dripping wet from his movements.

"I’m not even in you yet," he teased.

"Shut up."

He played with streaks of your hair, making sure every inch of your face was touched by his lips before he went down to your neck, his hips still rocking with yours as quiet moans fell from between your lips, but he was reluctant to fill you all up.

"God… I missed this pussy s’much"

But Gojo’s whining was cut off when he felt the sudden change of position– by the feeling of wetness and tightness around his length. You sunk down on him, slowly adjusting to his girth after such a long time. He held onto your hips with both hands, grabbing them tightly as you began to rock your hips back and forth, your upper body following wavy movements.

Gojo had almost forgotten how hot sex with you had always been during your time apart in the past weeks. He had almost forgotten how much pleasure you gave him just by looking at you, and above all, he had almost forgotten how beautiful you were. And he didn’t mean it in the content of sex only.

Why had his eyes just opened now? Why hadn’t he seen earlier what was right in front of him the whole time? He didn’t need anyone else. No matter how many girls he fucked, he would always only want and need you.

You leaned back, bringing yourself up just to slide down on him again and again while Gojo simultaneously thrusted upwards into you, but not with his full strength yet, and you knew it. He was still teasing you.

You cried out his name, desperately bouncing up and down on him, searching for the pleasure which was slowly turning you impatient.

"Kiss me now," he demanded.

When you didn’t make a move to, he stood his knees up, letting you fall on top of him with a little squeal. Chest on chest, body on body, he made sure that you wouldn’t withdraw again.

He grabbed the back of your head and crushed his lips back onto yours after having pulled you down to him. While you were occupied with kissing, Gojo brought his hips up with a hard thrust, causing you to gasp against his lips, and he smiled into the next kiss.

With another strong thrust which filled you up to the brim, he knocked the air out of your lungs and your face landed on his right shoulder, desperately breathing for air. He did it several times more, and every time, your voice would get a little higher and your breathing a little faster.

Your mouth was formed to a silent scream as you dug your nails into his skin when the overwhelming feeling shot through your body. You were soaking and pressed your opened mouth on Gojo’s shoulder, keeping your eyes shut when the pleasurable spasms took control of your body.

Gojo was holding you tightly during your climax, your walls tightening around him and nearly pushing him out of you. His arms rested on your back, giving you a reassuring feeling while he kissed your temple, your head still dizzy.

Gojo smiled at you and rolled on top without pulling out. Well, it was his turn now.

His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last. 

He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.

Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.

"Fuck baby you’re so tight" he moans "You’re gonna make me cum" He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.

"Say you love me" you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.

"I love you. I love you y/n" his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.

"I love you too"

You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, doubting how you’re not going to get pregnant to the amount of his seed feeling you up.

You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm. 

"I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll make sure you never leave my side again, i’ll make youre I never leave yours."

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔖𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰s

Mike schmidt x gn reader

Summary: Mike is determined to propose to the love of his life, but his attempts are constantly interrupted by nerves and unforeseen events. His younger sister Abby discovers his intentions and convinces him in a plan to make his proposal unforgettable.

Warnings: gender neutral pronouns for the reader so everyone can read. Marriage proposal. Abby acting like every little sibling would. Super fluff. Make-out session.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words count: almost 4000

Mike sat alone in the slimby lit break room of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, moving from one hand to the other the small, worn out box in his hand. He flicked it open and gazed at the cheap simple ring inside. It wasn't much, but it was all he could afford.

The ring's silver band reflected the harsh fluorescent lights, and Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy. Could you truly want to marry someone like him, with a life as complicated and broken as his?

His mind raced filled with doubts and fears. The tragedies of his past, the constant struggle to make ends meet. The responsibility of taking care of Abby weighed heavily on him.

How could he ask you to share in his burdens as your own?

He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. Every time he thought he had mustered the courage, those nagging thoughts pulled him back down.

He thought about Garret, his little brother, who has been taken purely because of his mistakes. Mike had failed Garret, and he couldn't shake the fear that he would fail you too.

The sound of heavy and clunky footsteps echoed from the arcade, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his heart. He closed the box with a snap, shoving it back into his pocket. Maybe it was foolish, maybe you deserve someone better, someone who could give you more than just a cheap ring and a troubled life.

Hours passed, and soon Mike found himself back home. He slipped inside the bed where you were sleeping peacefully, observing how you would wake up instantly every time.

The mattress creaked under his weight.

The lines of fatigue etched on your face softened, and he marveled at the delicate curve of your cheekbone.

Your brows furrow, creating deep lines across your forehead. The corners of your mouth pull downward, forming a slight grimace and your nose wrinkled as if reacting to an unpleasant sensation. All this while your eyelids remain shut, shielding your eyes from the morning light.

“Hey,” You murmured, your voice a raspy whisper. “You’re back.”

“Missed you,” he confessed, his fingers brushing against your hips.

You shifted closer towards him, snuggling with him and putting your face on his neck. The stubble on his jaw scratched against your skin, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Just a minute and I’ll take Abby to school” You mumbled against his skin, the gesture and your closeness deleting all the negative thoughts that haunted him the whole night.

“Take all the time that you need” he mumbled, your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. The scent of your hair, the gentle rise and fall of your chest: it all felt like a lifeline.

‘Today,’ he thought as he was falling asleep with the warmth you provided to his body and heart.

‘Today, I’ll do it.’

ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ

Mike had been on edge all day, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily on him. You noticed the slight tremor in his hands and the distant look in his eyes as he tried to make conversation. It wasn't like him to be this distracted, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Despite his tough exterior, you knew Mike well enough to see the vulnerability hidden underneath.

That evening, you both found a rare moment of quiet in the living room. Mike had been fiddling with something in his pocket. The air was thick with unspoken words, and your curiosity grew with each passing second.

Mike took a deep breath and walked over to where you were sitting, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Hey," Mike finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," you replied, your concern deepening as you saw the anxiety etched on his face.

You tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. Instead, he stared at the floor.

"Mike, what's wrong?" you asked softly leaning closer. You reached out, touching his arm lightly.

His eyes darted around, avoiding your gaze.

"I've been thinking a lot about us. About our future." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "You know, my life has been one hell of a ride. It's been tough, messy, and full of mistakes. I never imagined it would turn out like this, taking care of Abby on my own, working night shifts just to keep us afloat. But then you came into my life."

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking away.

"I know I don't have much to offer. But...I can't imagine my future without you.”

Mike's voice wavered as he tried to continue, but his anxiety got the best of him.

He’d spent years building walls, keeping people at arm’s length. You have chipped away at those walls, brick by brick, until there was nothing left but vulnerability. And now, he feared losing it all.

He reached into his pocket, taking hold of the small box. His hands trembled, and he found himself unable to continue. The weight of his fears and insecurities bore down on him, making it impossible to speak. He felt the familiar grip of panic tightening around his chest. His breath quickened, and he stared at the floor, defeated. The memories of his past failures, especially with Garret, loomed large in his mind. He felt like he was trapped in a cycle of disappointment, unable to break free.

As Mike sat there, unable to find the words, a flood of memories washed over him. He recalled the first time he met you, the way your smile had lit up the room. He remembered the late night conversations where you both shared your dreams and fears, the quiet moments of comfort you provided when he felt like the world was falling apart. He thought about the times you had been there for Abby, treating her with kindness and love, making her laugh when she was down

He remembered the look in your eyes when you told him you believed in him, that you saw the good in him even when he couldn't see it himself. Those memories were a lifeline, pulling him out of the depths of his despair. They reminded him of the strength and resilience he had found through your support.

Just as he seemed completely overwhelmed. Abby burst into the room, her timing impeccable as always, "Hey, can I get some new papers to draw on?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent

You looked at Mike, secing the desperation in his eves. "I'll go get them," you said softly.

As you left the room, Mike slumped back into the couch, the open box now in his hand as he stared up at the ceiling. In a swift motion, Abby snatched the box and dashed away from him.

"Abby!" Mike shouted, scrambling to his feet. He chased her through the hallway, his heart pounding not just from the chase but from the fear of losing the ring.

"Abby come on, give it back!" Mike pleaded as he cornered her in her room, trying to keep his voice calm.

Abby giggled, holding the box behind her back. "Why do you want it so bad?"

Mike knelt down to her level, his eyes softening. "It's important. Really important. It's for-" He paused, unsure of how much to reveal.

Abby's expression changed, curiosity turning to concern. "YOU WANNA MARRY-" her scream of pure joy was interrupted by Mike’s hand on her mouth. He shushed her after taking a quick glance in your direction. Mike nodded, swallowing hard "Yes, please don’t say a word."

Abby's face lit up with excitement, she nodded eagerly and Mike decided to trust his little sister and softly moved his head away. "Really? We’ll be a family now!"

Mike's heart ached at her words. He hugged her tightly drawing strength from her innocent faith in him.

Abby pulled back and gave him a stern look. "I want to help you, pleaseeee! I want to see too!" Mike laughed, a genuine, relieved laugh that seemed to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, "Deal. Tomorrow morning"

☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎

The house was draped in the peaceful silence of the night, the kind that wraps around you like a comforting blanket. You were already tucked into bed, a worn novel in your hands, its pages illuminated by the soft, amber light of the bedside lamp. The quiet creaking of the old house was the only sound until you heard the faint, muffled whispers from down the hall.

Mike was putting Abby to bed, and their voices floated through the hallway, indistinct but filled with a warmth that made you smile. You turned your head slightly, straining to catch snippets of their conversation. You couldn't make out the words, but the gentle tones of their exchange and the occasional giggles of Abby made your heart swell with affection for both of them.

As you lay there, your eyes drifted upwards to the ceiling. The torn poster of Nebraska, which Mike had tried to remove some time ago, caught your attention. Its ragged edges and the remnants of adhesive clinging to the plaster served as a poignant reminder of the past struggles and unresolved pain he carried with him.

This evening they are talking much more than usual, their voices reduced to a barely perceptible murmur.

You strained your ears, trying to catch every single word. You squint your eyes, as if you could trade your sight for superhuman hearing ability. Every muscle in your body was tense in the effort to grasp those whispered secrets.

You sighed softly, contemplating whether to get up and use the excuse of needing the bathroom to sneak a peek at their conversation.

You debated the idea, curiosity gnawing at you, but ultimately, the warmth of the bed and the soothing comfort of the blankets won out.

Laziness, or perhaps a desire to give them their privacy, kept you nestled where you were. You turned back to your book, though your mind was no longer on the story.

The door creaked open, and Mike stepped into the room, his expression softening as he saw you lying there. He closed the door quietly, moving with the careful, deliberate grace of someone who had long since learned to tread lightly in the presence of those he loved. He crossed the room and slipped under the covers beside you.

Without a word, he reached out and gently pulled you closer by the waist, his strong arms encircling you and causing you to abandon your book. Your head came to rest on his pillow, just inches away from his face.

Mike's gaze was intense, almost as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face. His eyes roamed over your features, taking in the curve of your lips, the line of your jaw, the way your hair frames your face. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Is everything okay, Mike?" you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded, but his gaze never wavered. The silence between you was charged with unspoken words and emotions.

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering on his skin. "You know you can talk to me about anything," you murmured.

Mike simply nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you. It started gently, almost tentatively, but quickly deepened into something more fervent and passionate. His hand found its way into your hair, pulling you even closer as his lips moved against yours with a desperate intensity.

Time seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the sensation of his kiss. The world outside your bedroom ceased to exist and all that mattered was the feel of his body against yours, the warmth of his touch, the way his kiss spoke volumes where words failed him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his other hand roamed over your back, holding you tightly as if he were afraid to let go.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and you could feel your resolve melting away under the onslaught of his affection. His kiss was filled with everything he couldn't say-his fears, his hopes, his unwavering love for you. It was a silent promise, a plead for a future together that he desperately wanted but was afraid to believe he deserved.

Eventually, the need for air forced you to break apart, but Mike's hold on you never loosened. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, ragged gasps. His eyes were closed, as if he were savoring the moment, committing every detail to memory.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him again if everything was alright, but the look on his face stopped you. His expression was one of pure contentment, his features relaxed in a way you rarely saw.

As exhaustion finally caught up with you both, you snuggled closer into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body and the protective circle of his arms around you lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Mike lay awake for a while longer, watching you sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of the life you could have together. He thought about the ring hidden in his pocket and the promise it held.

‘Tomorrow,’ he thought.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll do it.’

☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎

You wake up to the faint sound of whispering drifting in from the kitchen. Groggy, you blink against the morning light filtering through the curtains. The whispers grow a little louder interspersed with occasional giggles, you strain to make out the words.

“...what if they choke on it?” Abby’s voice, barely suppressed by her laughter, reaches your ears.

“Shh, keep your voice down” Mike’s urgent whisper follows. You hear the clink of plates being set on the table.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You slide out of bed and quietly pad towards the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, you see Mike and Abby huddled together, their heads bent in front of the pots.

Abby is already dressed, an unusual sight this early in the morning. Today she has no school. You can’t help but smile at the sibling duo.

They seem to be plotting something.

As you step into the room, they both straighten up abruptly, their faces a picture of innocence.

“Good morning!” Abby chirps, her tone overly cheerful. She flashes you a broad smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mike, caught mid-turn at the stove, gives you a nervous grin. “Morning,” he says, his voice slightly strained. There’s an edge to his movements, as if he’s trying too hard to appear casual.

You raise an eyebrow, taking in the scene. “What’s going on here? Abby, you’re up early.”

Abby just giggles, glancing at Mike, who is now meticulously flipping pancakes, his back rigid with tension. You can’t shake the feeling that something is definitely up. The more you observe their behavior, the more suspicious you become. Why are they acting so strangely?

“Nothing, just thought I’d help Mike with breakfast” Abby says, her voice a tad too innocent. You sit down at the table, still watching them closely. “Okay,” you say slowly, “this is a nice change of pace.”

Mike brings over a plate stacked with pancakes and sets it in front of you. “Dig in,” he says, his voice wavering slightly. He sits down, but you notice he barely touches his own plate, his eyes darting between you and Abby.

You cut into the fluffy pancake, your suspicion mounting. Mike’s anxiety is almost palpable now, and Abby’s wide-eyed gaze is fixed on you, barely blinking as she watches you chew.

They both seem way too invested in your breakfast experience.

“So, did you two plan this breakfast together?” you ask, trying to sound casual while you scrutinize their reactions. Abby nods enthusiastically “Yep! We thought it would be a nice surprise for you.”

“That’s sweet,” you say taking another bite. “It’s just... you both are acting a bit strange.”

Mike looks down at his plate awkwardly “We’re just... happy to have breakfast together.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his face and the untouched food in his plate. “Mike, you’re not eating.”

“I’m just not that hungry,” he says quickly his eyes flicking nervously to Abby.

“Uh-huh,” you say eyeing him suspiciously “And Abby you’re unusually quiet.”

Abby stifles a giggle, her eyes darting to Mike. “I’m just excited! Aren’t you excited, Mike?”

Mike forces a smile. “Yeah, very excited.”

You can’t help but laugh inwardly at their antics. What on earth are they up to? Your mind begins to wander.

Did they put something in the food?

They didn’t poisoned your pancake...right??

It’s something stupid to think about but Mike’s tensed behavior and Abby’s incessant staring were way too strange for your taste. You navigated inside your thoughts, searching for any possible reason as to why the Schmidt siblings would possible want you dead.

Why are you even thinking about this option? It’s been minutes since your first bite. If your first hypothesis was correct, right now you would already be in a garbage bag ready to be hidden. You feel perfectly fine.

For now.

Your thoughts get increasingly outlandish. Maybe it’s a prank. Maybe they saw a funny video online about tricking someone with breakfast and decided to try it. You almost chuckle out loud at the absurdity of it all.

Mike keeps stealing glances at you while you eat, his face a mixture of hope and anxiety. Abby, on the other hand, is trying her best to maintain a straight face but failing miserably. Every time you look at her, she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, what’s going on?” you finally ask, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mike’s eyes widen slightly. “Nothing’s going on.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seems like you’re both hiding something.”

Abby bites her lip, trying to suppress another giggle. “We’re not hiding anything. Just enjoy your pancakes.”

You take another bite, savoring the warm, fluffy texture and delicious taste, all the while wondering what on earth they could be hiding.

Then, you bite down on something hard. The yelp of surprise was muffled by your mouth closed but both Mike and Abby turned their head at 90 degrees to stare again at you. One had a pale face while the other was grinning from ear to ear.

Your heart skips a beat. You hide your mouth with one of your hands to discreetly remove the foreign object from your mouth with the other, your fingers trembling slightly.

It’s a ring. A simple, elegant ring.

Wait, what?

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Mike is out of his chair and kneeling beside you, his face a mix of terror and hope. “Will you marry me?” he blurts out, his voice cracking with emotion.

Abby beams at you, her excitement barely contained. She clasps her hands together, her eyes shining with delight as she watches the scene unfold.

You stare at Mike, your heart pounding, the room around you blurring as tears well up in your eyes. The realization of his nervousness, his stolen glances, and Abby’s strange behavior all click into place.

Mike reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “I know it’s been tough, and I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

His vulnerability, usually hidden beneath a tough exterior, is laid bare before you. You can see the fear in his eyes, the fear of rejection, but also the unwavering determination to make you happy.

Abby, unable to contain herself any longer, jumps up from her seat and hugs you both. “Say yes! Say yes!” she chants, her joy infectious.

You laugh through your tears, overwhelmed by the love and the absurdity of the moment. “Yes,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

The room erupts in cheers. Abby bouncing around with glee, and Mike pulling you into a tight embrace. The weight of the world lifts off his shoulders as he kisses you, his relief and happiness evident.

As you sit back down, the ring now securely on your finger, Mike finally relaxes, and the three of you share the rest of the pancakes, laughter and love filling the room. The awkwardness and tension of the morning dissolve into a memory you’ll cherish forever.

You can’t help but chuckle at your earlier thoughts. Poison? Really? You mentally scold yourself for letting your imagination run wild, but you also appreciate how deeply this moment has etched itself into your heart.

Mike, still holding your hand, looks at you with a mixture of relief and adoration. “Sorry for the secrecy. I wanted it to be a surprise, and Abby was adamant about helping.”

Abby nods vigorously “I told him it would be perfect! And it was, right?”

You nod, smiling. “It was perfect. I totally didn’t suspected anything.” Mike chuckles, finally taking a bite of his now cold pancake. “Yeah, I probably should have kept my cool better. I was so nervous”

You squeeze his hand. “It was adorable. And perfect.”

The morning continues with laughter and joy. Mike’s initial anxiety melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. He keeps his hand in yours, occasionally glancing at the ring on your finger with a smile that speaks volumes.

Abby chatters excitedly about the planning, her ideas for the wedding, and how she knew all along that you would say yes. Her enthusiasm is contagious, filling the room with warmth and laughter. Mike listens, his eyes filled with affection and gratitude, his usual stoic demeanor softened by the moment.

The ring on your finger feels both familiar and new, a promise of the future you and Mike will share. The morning, with all its quirks and surprises, will be a story you'll both tell for years to come, a perfect blend of love, laughter, and a touch of mischief, thanks to Abby's enthusiastic participation.

Mike stands up, pulling you into another hug. "I love you," he whispers, his voice steady and sure. "Thank you for saving yes.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "I love you too, Mike. Always."

Abby, unable to contain her excitement any longer, joins the hug, wrapping her arms around both of you. "We're going to be the best family ever!" she declares, her voice filled with the certainty only a child can have.

She was so right.

Note: I'll admit, I'm a bit skeptical about this one but I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this idea, so sorry if this was bad :)

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Take A Fucking Hint

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Steve is incredibly oblivious to the big hints that his girlfriend drops whenever they kiss and it takes his best friends knocking some sense into him for him to get it.

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, Steve is a naive baby, lots of kissing

WC: 1.5k

Minors DNI

Steve Rogers had his first kiss in 1931. It had been his 13th birthday and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name. But when the fireworks went off, she shyly asked him if he would like a kiss in lieu of a birthday gift. Her lips were chapped and tasted like the cotton candy she had just eaten, it was barely even a peck but Steve thought it was magical.

The next time Steve kissed someone was right above Howard Stark’s lab with an officer who yanked him into a corner, eager to have her way with him. The kiss was tinged with a lust he couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t hate it but he also didn’t like it, it felt wrong to him. A kiss should be an expression of love, he thought, not some desire for someone based only on their body.

Peggy Carter kissed him next. It was in the middle of a battle as they chased down a plane loaded with bombs. It was fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, like they knew they would never see each other again. 

Natasha Romanoff was his next kiss. She teased him relentlessly about it. It was sloppy and unpracticed and very weird considering he thought of the former assassin as a sister. Then, it was Peggy’s great niece Sharon.

But nothing compared to the way you kissed him. You kissed Steve like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You hadn’t been together long, just two months but it was more than enough time for him to fall utterly in love with you. You taught him how to love, how to ask for affection and attention.

But mainly, you taught him how to kiss. Quick pecks when you woke up, both of you still half asleep and with morning breath. Affectionate, have a good day kisses when you left for work. ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ kisses when he returned from missions. And finally, his favourite ones; the ‘I need to feel your body against mine right now’, when your tongues tangled, your breath mingled together as you tried to swallow each other whole, but those always ended as quickly as they started.

You were at the compound with him today, Tony needed your help with engineering a new AI system for the jet. “I don’t know when we’ll finish up tonight so how about you come steal me away for lunch today?” Your hands tugged on the labels of his leather jacket, pulling his body closer to your own. Steve smiled wildly as he looked down at you, so utterly enamoured by your presence.

“Now that is the best idea I’ve heard today.” His hands hovered over your wide hips, not yet touching you. He still struggled with PDA, especially when he was so conflicted as to whether he deserved your touch and wanted to throw you down and have his way with you constantly. Your arms moved up his strong chest to wrap around his neck.

Your eyes were hooded, heavy with desire that sent a shiver through him. “Well then Cap, how about you reward me for having such a good idea.” His lips met your with a practiced ease, a warm feeling filling his gut. Your lips felt like coming home, like a safe place where he could just be. He tilted his head, eager to deepen the kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your grip on him tightening as the air ignited with a white hot passion. “Hey suckerfish! Break it up! I need my assistant to actually be able to breathe without a geriatric man sucking on her face.” Steve groaned as you pulled away to glare at the billionaire. Tony stood several feet away with his arms crossed over his chest like a disappointed father.

“First off Stark, I am not your assistant. Second, I will kiss my insanely hot boyfriend whenever I want as is my right.” Steve chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping back and giving you a gentle shove towards the lab doors.

You looked at him clearly offended. “I’ll find you for lunch. Try not to kill Tony.” 

“I’ll kill him if I wanna kill him.” You muttered but walked away anyway, the cutest frown on your face. He chuckled and turned as the doors slid closed behind you, and came face to face with a smug looking Bucky and a disgusted Sam.

“You two are nasty. Why don’t you just fuck at home before work like normal people.” Steve’s face went beat red at Sam’s comment. Bucky guffawed, shoving him with his shoulder.

“Don’t you know they haven’t done the deed yet. Apparently, they’re ‘taking it slow’. Which is just code for Steve has a girlfriend way out of his league and he doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

“Hey!” He objected. “That is our business, not yours. Besides, how do you know we haven’t.” Bucky rolled his eyes at his best friend’s childish retort.

He clapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder. “Oh you poor dumb man, it is incredibly obvious.” Sam joined him on his other side, taking his other shoulder.

“We have so much to teach you.” They guided him away from the lab, intending on educating their lost friend. 

——————

Steve felt like he was in sex ed again, except this was so much worse. They were in one of the many conference rooms on the compound, a white board had been dragged in from a storage room and was now covered in crude drawings that were borderline lewd.

“Now that we have the basics down, you need to understand the nuances of women’s hints.” Sam started but Steve sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“She would have told me if she wanted to have… sex. And she hasn’t so I haven’t gone any further than kissing.” Both men groaned in aggravation. They had been at this for an hour now, trying to get it into Steve’s head that you just wanted to get laid but he wasn’t listening.

“All right, look. What does she do every time you kiss?” The office chair creaked as Steve leaned back in it. His hand scrubbed down his jaw, running over the smooth skin.

“She always pulls me closer to her like she doesn’t want me running away and then puts her arms around my neck.” Bucky nodded thoughtfully, a slightly proud glint in his grey eyes.

“Just as I thought.” Sam muttered, taking a seat right in front of the Captain. “When a woman or whoever does that with the person they are kissing, it’s a signal for the other person to touch them.” Steve’s head tilted questioningly.

“But I do touch her.” 

“Yes but how?” Bucky picked up where Sam left off. “Just her hips?” Steve gave a curt nod. “Ok, next time she kisses you, hold her by the small of her back, or even better, one hand at the base of her neck and the other on her ass. Just trust me.” He patted Steve’s back and walked out of the room like he had just told him the meaning of like.

Sam scoffed but followed him out, yelling down the hall about how much of a drama queen he was being. Bucky retorted but Steve was too lost in his thoughts to consciously hear what they were saying to each other. Maybe he should try it.

——————

As usual with your ‘lunch breaks’ with Steve, he had dragged you into an empty office to make out for a while before you both had to get back to work. And as usual, your arms were around his neck, fingers buried in his short blonde hair as he lightly gripped your hips.

You could live in Steve’s lips. They were always so soft, like he was constantly using chapstick. He tasted like coffee and jam pastries. You let him guide your chin upwards so he could kiss along your soft jaw. But then, he did something new.

His hands moved slowly to the base of your spine, his warm touch making goosebumps erupt all over your body. You moaned quietly into the still air of the office, the sound barely covered by the hum of the air conditioner. 

Apparently the noises you were making gave him an ego boost because suddenly he was holding the back of your neck tightly, keeping your head still as he took what he wanted from you. “Steve!” You gasped and felt him smirk against the skin of your throat. His other hand was placed firmly on your plump ass, something he never dared to try.

Your body thrummed with an arousal you had never felt before. This was an entirely new Steve and you were loving it. “What’s gotten into you, Stevie?” You asked breathlessly. His head lifted from where he had been nibbling on your collarbone, his blue eyes black with desire.

“I learned how to take a hint.” Safe to say that lunch went well into the night.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @luvvvjada @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash

Steve Rogers 

@minervadashwood @raajali3 @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @lovelytricia @mandyzsick101 @galaxydj654 @blasianbitch @springdandelixn @im-a-satanic-ritual @m0nster-fvcker @tinyinfluencerharmony @r0si5 @kittycatkrissa @justanotherpasserby-blog @GoobysGoobers @xoxokiaraaxoxo @capsheadquaters @stabmemaybe @kobaltdragon @marvel-mistress @bking4000

[blackenedsnow]

Hey! Could I request a Shadow the hedgehog x fem reader where she’s super depressed and always has been, but she means everything to Shadow? He’s constantly trying to protect her, even from herself (self harm), because he sees so much of Maria in her. It makes him a bit obsessive, like he can’t bear to lose her. Lots of angst but maybe a hopeful ending?"

is this what i have become?

WARNING: Depression, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts, obsessive tendencies

PAIRING: Shadow The Hedgehog x (Fem) Depressed! Reader

NOTE: Please read with care. I hope you can find some catharsis in the story, and remember that help is always available if you need it. Take care of yourselves.

SUMMARY: Shadow the Hedgehog has always been by your side, a silent protector. But the more he tries to shield you, the deeper you fall into your own despair.

It was another late evening, the room dim and quiet except for the soft hum of the outside world, which felt too far away to reach. You sat on the edge of your bed, an open book in your lap, though the words were just a blur at this point. It was hard to focus. Your mind was always drifting, weighed down by the ever-present heaviness that never seemed to lift.

Shadow was nearby, as he often was. His presence was constant, lingering like a dark guardian at the edge of your thoughts, protective yet heavy with unspoken tension. You knew why. He saw something in you—something that reminded him of her. Maria.

You’d never brought it up. You didn’t need to. It was clear in the way he looked at you, the way he stayed by your side, never leaving for too long, as though he was afraid that if he did, you’d disappear, just like she had. He wasn’t just trying to protect you; he was trying to save you.

But that was the problem. You didn’t feel like you could be saved.

The book in your lap was one you’d picked up in a vain attempt to distract yourself, to focus on something other than the numbness that had become your constant companion. You flipped another page, not really reading. One passage caught your eye, though, standing out in the blur of words:

The fragility of the species was not just a testament to evolution but a symbol of overdevelopment to the point of self-destruction.

When you closed the book, your gaze drifted toward Shadow. He stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable expression he always wore. You wondered if he thought the same of you. You often feel like those creatures—too fragile for this world, collapsing under the slightest pressure. Your body, your mind—both seem to be breaking down, unable to withstand the forces around you, yet here you were, still standing, much like the last surviving member of an endangered species, teetering on the edge of extinction.

Shadow didn’t say anything. His silence was telling. He didn’t need to speak to make his point. He was there to protect you, not to offer philosophical musings. But it made you wonder if, one day, he would see that his protection was futile—that, like those fragile creatures, you were destined to break, no matter how hard he tried to save you.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You looked away, the weight of everything pressing harder against your chest. How could you explain to him that you weren’t strong like him? That the very act of existing felt like too much sometimes?

“You’re quiet tonight.” His voice cut through the stillness, low and controlled, like always. Shadow rarely broke his calm demeanor, even when the situation called for it. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make himself heard.

“I’m just tired,” you replied, though that was only half the truth.

Shadow didn’t move, his red eyes piercing through the dimness, watching you closely. “You’re always tired,” he murmured, his voice soft but edged with concern. He knew, of course. He always knew when you were struggling more than usual, but tonight, the weight was unbearable.

You stood abruptly, the book falling off your lap as you moved toward the window, needing space, needing air, but finding none. The room felt too small. You felt too trapped. It had been like this for days now—no, for years, ever since you could remember. The depression had always been there, gnawing at you from the inside, and despite Shadow’s constant presence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slowly crumbling away.

And then, before you realized what you were doing, your fingers found the cold handle of the blade you kept tucked away in a drawer. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of an end to the pain that had haunted you for so long. You were going to bring it to the other room with you, but before you could do anything, Shadow was there. He moved like a shadow himself, quick and deliberate, positioning himself between you and the door, blocking any way out.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, like he was sizing up the situation. Maybe he is, you thought. Maybe he’s calculating the precise force it would take to disarm you without causing injury, or the fastest way to get the blade out of your hand.

You looked at him, tears threatening to spill, and for a moment, you wondered if Shadow—this strong, quiet being who had been through more than most could even comprehend—could understand desperation.

“Put it down,” he said, his voice calm but firm, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t need that.”

Your knuckles are changing color as you grip the handle, the steel biting into your skin as if it too understands the pain clawing inside you. Shadow’s crimson eyes don’t waver. His gaze is a heavy, constant pressure—he’s assessing, strategizing, always in control. And yet... something flickers in those eyes. Fear? No, not fear. Desperation.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he says, voice as calm and measured as ever, but there’s an underlying current, a tension he can’t quite mask. He’s trying to stay composed, but you know him better than that. He’s scared.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought clearly,” you whisper, your voice sounding alien to your own ears. The room feels too small, like the walls are closing in. You can feel the air between you both, thick and suffocating.

You hesitated. The ache inside you screamed for release, for a way out, but Shadow’s presence, his unwavering strength, kept you grounded. He was always there, always watching, always ready to intervene. And in this moment, he was the only thing tethering you to the world.

“I’m not… like you,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I’m not strong. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He stepped closer, his movements careful, deliberate. “You are strong,” he said quietly. “You’ve survived this long. That’s more strength than you realize.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks now. “But I’m not. I’m nothing. You… You’re strong, Shadow. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. I can barely make it through a day.”

Shadow’s eyes softened in a way that made your heart ache. He didn’t often show vulnerability, but here, now, you could see the cracks beneath his stoic facade.

“I’m not as strong as you think,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “I’m not invincible. I’ve lost people I care about. I’ve failed before… But I won’t fail you. I won’t lose you.”

When you’d first met Shadow, you hadn’t understood why he was drawn to you, why he stayed, despite the darkness that clung to you. But over time, you’d realized it wasn’t about you, not really. It was about something deeper in him, something broken. You reminded him of her—Maria.

You hated that. Hated that you were a stand-in for a ghost, someone he could never save. It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you.

But that didn’t stop the connection from forming, binding you two in ways neither of you could explain. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t right. But it was real, and that’s all you had.

“I’m not her,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I’m not Maria.”

Shadow’s eyes softened, the faintest flicker of pain crossing his features. He knew that, of course he did. But knowing didn’t change the way he looked at you sometimes, like you were his last chance to fix something broken deep inside himself.

You could see the pain in his eyes, the weight of his past bearing down on him just as much as your own struggles weighed on you. He wasn’t just trying to protect you from the world—he was trying to protect you from yourself, from the darkness that had consumed so much of his life.

“Shadow… I…” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence, how to explain the turmoil inside you. It wasn’t just the depression. It was the constant feeling of being not enough, of being broken beyond repair.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he says finally, the words almost a growl, like they’re ripped from him against his will. He doesn’t say things like this—he doesn’t need to. His actions have always spoken louder than words. But now, faced with the possibility of losing you, he’s breaking his own rules.

“You don’t even like me,” you retort, your voice shaking, barely more than a whisper. “You don’t like yourself.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you can tell the words hit him. They hang in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. He’s never been good at hiding his disdain for himself, for the creature he believes himself to be. He knows he’s broken too, and maybe he is. But he’s strong. So much stronger than you.

“You’re wrong.” His voice is lower now, almost pleading. “You mean everything to me.”

He reached out, gently taking the blade from your hand, his touch firm but careful, never letting go of you. He tossed the knife aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his grip strong but not suffocating. He’s not just trying to protect you—he’s holding on, desperately. Like if he lets go, even for a second, you’ll slip away, just like Maria did.

You swallow hard, tears burning at the edges of your eyes. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t.

You buried your face in his fluffy chest, the tears coming harder now, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to cry. Allowed yourself to feel the pain that had been building up for so long.

“I won’t let you break,” he whispered, his voice low and fierce. “Not like this. You mean everything to me.” He repeated.

His words hung heavy in the air, and despite the darkness inside you, there was something in his voice that made you believe him, even if just for a moment. Maybe you weren’t as strong as him, but in his arms, you felt like you could be. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[frankenkyle19]

🌼Touched By A Zombie🌼

Request

word count: 878

warnings: a bit of suggestive touching (Kyle doesn’t understand the difference)

Kyle had many different ways he showed his affection. Especially towards you. Grabbing, squeezing, holding and even biting. When he couldn’t find words, his hands told you exactly what they wanted. You. Comfort. He was constantly touching you in one way or another because he needed to feel that security. To know you were right there.

The first day he bit down on your neck you were very very surprised. You were holding his hand, carefully rubbing your thumb across his knuckles when he leaned into you, letting his lips trail across your neck before they bite down. He did bite hard enough to leave a mark, but not too hard that it drew blood. 

It had scared you for a moment before you realized that he was doing it for affection. He had so much love inside of him for you that this was the only way (he thought) to get it out. 

He also always had to have his hands on you. On your waist, around your neck, on your shoulder, even sometimes your bum. Kyle had no ulterior motive for these touches even if some would see them as sexual. Sure, he did enjoy those special times he got to spend with you, but he truly could not tell the difference it made where he put his hands. 

He always liked to hook his thumbs into the loops on your jeans and stay close to you, following like a small child following their mother in a grocery store.

Wherever you were, Kyle was too.

It had been quite hard to teach Kyle boundaries. That sometimes you needed a break. He did learn though, you taught him that when you needed space he could go outside or even play a game on the tablet. 

Kyle always made sure it was known that you were his. He didn’t share you with anyone. If someone looked at you even a bit too long, he was pulling you closer and pressing kisses across the expanse of your shoulders.

He also loves to squeeze your hips and any fat you had there. The more the better in his opinion. He loved having your body to knead in his hands. He literally spends hours just holding you.

You’d been trying to teach him when and where he was allowed to touch you. That sometimes it wasn’t exactly appropriate. He’d whine and huff, mumbling out a complaint. Why couldn’t he touch his girl? 

“Mnghh- h-h-holdddd” he’d groan, hands reaching for you. You’d end up giving up and letting him do as he pleased but over time, he did manage to learn some decency.

Another thing he loved was for you to sit in his lap. He loved holding you and if you were even thinking of sitting down, it better be in his lap. The weight of you against him instantly relaxed him. Like a human shaped weighted blanket. He’d play with your hair as you sat atop his lap, a low hum coming from his chest, which he did when he was very happy.

You did practically everything together. Eat. Sleep. Shower (because Kyle is scared of showers and the water pressure, you found out,) if you’re doing something, Kyle is going to find a way to be included in it. 

While at times he could be so rough, and his fine motor skills struggled, hands a bit rougher than they might normally be. The more used to his new body he got, the better his motor skills got. Soon enough he was playing with your hair and trying to make elaborate hairstyles. (Which turned out quite bad but you wore them anyway because your sweet Kyle had done it)

He also always wanted to wash your hair whenever you two would shower together. Unlike some people, Kyle acted no different around you clothed or nude. You could be stark naked in front of him and he would just smile and hug you. He didn’t mind nor care at all. 

Now one of the things he did that was a bit more risky than the rest of his touches was when he would squeeze your bum or your breasts. They were basically his stress balls. Why were they there if he wasn’t allowed to squeeze them? This was more reserved for when you two are alone, but he always tries to sneak and squeeze your butt when you’re in public. You never have it in you to scold him, his face gets him out of trouble all the time.

Overall, once he is more accustomed to being alive again, he’s perfect. Sometimes he has the occasional outbursts, but he’s so sweet every other second of the day. He was everything you could ever ask for. He thought the same about you. How was he so lucky to end up with you? That’s what went through his foggy brain whenever he laid eyes on you (when does he ever take them off of you to begin with?) His.

His his his. Like a mantra stuck in his head. Yours and no one else’s. And the same went for him. He never ever thought of anyone else the way he thought of you. He loved you more than any words could ever explain.

[frvnkcastles]

May I have something where it dort of explores past sh? Where the reader is cutting mango or avocado I the palm of her hand and cuts through the shin into her hand and she just stands there for ages just staring as she's bleeding weighing up how much she can get away with on accident without frank bringing in Matt the Human Lie Detector, and she goes in for a second swipe when frank comes back from the shower and she tries playing it off like she just cut her hand and hea right up in there wanting to help but he notices the partal deeper in the top end so its been done over again? Right over the crease over her palm fluff and comfort please?

THE WAY I HELD YOUR HAND ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You give in to the urges and Frank helps you with the aftermath.

Warnings: SELF-HARM, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: This is a heavy one, so read with caution (or skip entirely if you feel like it might be too much!) I’m sending you so much love anon, I know from experience what a struggle it can be to stay sober but I believe in you! Stay strong, you deserve to heal <3

With Frank’s support, you had managed to abstain from harming yourself for a while now. He gave all the credit to you — he was just along for the ride, and you were the one who did all the work. Nevertheless, he had been a massive comfort, always distracting you when you felt the urge and encouraging you to try again if you fell back into the cycle. You wanted to get rid of the habit of hurting yourself, anyway, but he gave you extra motivation to do it, as you really wanted to prove to him that you could do it and make him proud in the process. Of course, he was proud of you no matter what, but whatever it took to give you the boost you needed, he was okay with.

So, with him constantly by your side, you started to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction of hurting yourself and grow out of it. It had been a long while since you had succumbed to the compulsion, and you didn’t think you would lose yourself to it anytime soon.

That was why you were surprised yourself with how quickly you changed your mind. It had been a long, tiring day and maybe that explained your struggle to slice through the mango you had grabbed in the need of a snack — either way, the knife slipped and in the blink of an eye, you had cut your palm open. Blood began seeping out and you froze on the spot, unable to move or react in any way.

You stood there, staring at the wound that painted your skin redder by the second. You dropped the mango on the kitchen counter and swallowed hard, your thoughts laser-focused on what had been an accident but suddenly felt so fateful. Instead of trying to stifle the bleeding, your first instinct was to watch it dribble down your wrist and wonder how long you could drag this out. You were thrown right back into that old state of mind where you let the pain linger, where it felt like you were punishing yourself, and deservedly so.

You knew Frank would worry. And you also knew that he wouldn’t buy any flimsy stories about it being an accident — which it was, at first, but before you fully even processed what you were doing, you were swiping the knife across your skin once more. All those old feelings came rushing back, causing you to lose track of your surroundings. You couldn’t focus on anything else except the mixture of relief and regret pounding at your head and heart, and you let the moment go on for longer than you should have.

”Sweetheart, what happened?” Frank’s worried voice broke through your trance, his large hand coming to cradle yours with his eyes wide and alert. You hadn’t noticed him getting out of the shower, and immediately, you felt embarrassed about being caught, but you couldn’t get a single word out. ”Darlin’, you’re bleedin’. Shit”, he went on, his usually calm voice trembling with panic. You didn’t blame him, there was a lot of blood dripping onto the counters, after all.

”It—it was an accident”, you stammered out, shaking off your daze as you watched Frank grab the kitchen towel and wrap it around your hand to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.

”Gotta be more careful, sweetheart. This ain’t just a small cut”, he acknowledged with a heavy heart, his protectiveness kicking in as he kept squeezing the towel against your palm. The burning pain made you grimace, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in, and you felt horrible guilt blossom in your chest as you realized you had undone all your progress within moments.

You fell into silence, fearing how Frank would react if you admitted you had deliberately hurt yourself, but he figured it out even without your admission. He gently removed the towel after a couple of minutes of pressure, and above the bigger cut, he could see the second one you had made on impulse. He frowned, inspecting your hand before looking up at you, only to instantly pick up on your troubled expression.

”Baby, I don’t think this was an accident”, he probed gently, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were, but he also couldn’t leave it unmentioned. His heart raced in his chest, concern for you coursing through his veins as he watched you look away from him. ”Hey, hey, hey. Talk to me, sweet girl, what’s goin’ on? You haven’t been’ doin’ this for a while now. Did somethin’ happen?” he went on, tilting his head to catch your stare but you were too ashamed to face him.

”It really was an accident at first. But then I… I just got reminded of what it was like and I couldn’t control the urge and—and I just…”, you rambled, not even entirely sure what had come over you, what would be good enough justification. A tear slipped from your eye and you sniffled, wishing you could undo what you had done, but at the same time feeling like you deserved further pain for your mistake.

Nodding in understanding, Frank reached with one hand to wipe your cheeks while supporting your palm in the other. ”Alright, sweetheart. I’m real sorry I wasn’t here to help you through it. But I’m here now and I’mma make sure we get this all cleaned up and we can keep talkin’ about it, yeah?” he promised, not a hint of judgment in his voice as he calmly reassured you.

”I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I was doing so well”, you spoke shakily, so upset that you would have to start all over again. But Frank didn’t see it that way.

”Oh, baby, you’re still doin’ well. It’s a setback, but it ain’t the end of everything you worked so hard for. Givin’ in once doesn’t mean you’re a lost cause. You can always stop again. You’re incredibly strong, hear me?” he insisted, having complete faith in you, and it soothed your thumping heart a little to hear it from him.

”I feel like I let you down”, you confessed quietly, finally looking him in the eye, and his heart ached at your words. He understood that he played a big part in your recovery, but he hadn’t realized just how much you valued his opinion and support.

”You could never. Never, got that? I’m always in awe of you, sweet darlin’, and nothin’ will ever change that. I can’t even imagine how tough it gotta be to fight the urge but you do it, anyway. That’s fuckin’ amazing”, Frank swore, meaning every word. He cupped your face with his free hand and leaned in to kiss your forehead, staying connected to you for a moment before pulling back and locking eyes with you.

”I love you, yeah? I know you can do this”, he added, and with a careful nod, you promised to at least try. He gave you the smallest of smiles, almost impossible to even notice, but you knew just how much care and affection it contained for you.

”Thanks, Frankie”, you returned the smile, warming his heart.

”There’s my girl”, he praised before turning back to your hand. ”Think we gotta pay a visit to the emergency room, sweetheart. Might need stitches”, he declared, and sighing, you supposed he was right.

But with him by your side, it would be okay, and you would bravely fight the urge next time it would dawn on you.

[irwinsblender]

inner demons

a/n: i’ve written this over the span of a few weeks bc my mental health has been down the drain recently and i needed an outlet. i wasn’t sure about uploading this, but here it is anyway

also used these pictures of ashton bc that’s how i imagine he’d look when listening to you rant about how you’re feeling

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: your mental health has been getting worse again and ashton is there to try and help you through it

warnings: depression, self harm, reference to suicide - and please, if you find any of these triggering, don’t read this fic

word count: 3k

✩ ✩ ✩

winter was one of the worst times of year for you. specifically, for your mental health. the dreary, rainy and cloudy weather, days becoming dark hours earlier than in the summer was always hard on you.

your mental health was bad already. you’d been suffering with depression for quite a long time now. it first started at school when you couldn’t deal with exams along with certain horrible people in your classes, that seemed to linger for a few years after you graduated.

just when you thought things were getting better, the pandemic hit, causing you to relapse and become worse than before. you didn’t know how to deal with all of the terrible thoughts that were constantly going around your head, including thoughts telling you to hurt yourself.

and you did, you turned to that to help you cope with feeling so exhausted. in the end, it didn’t really help. but you had nothing else to help you.

until you met ashton irwin. your now boyfriend.

you’d never met anyone as caring as him. he always listened to anything you had to say, he was there for you when you needed to rant; most of all, he didn’t leave after you told him about your struggles.

in fact, he empathised with you. telling you about his struggles and ways he tried to get through them. he promised then and there that he would always be there to support you and would never judge you for any of your thoughts or emotions.

you always appreciated ashton, but you found it hard to tell him when you were beginning to struggle more again. you felt pathetic not being able to cope on your own, you felt like a burden in his life every time you had to involve him in your problems.

this was one of those times.

it had been a long day, or at least it felt like it had been. it was raining all day, something you hated. you hadn’t been able to get out of bed, you hadn’t eaten, only had a drink of water which ashton brought to you before he left the house earlier in the day.

you’d been sitting in the bathroom for the past hour with the door locked. you’d told ashton you were going to have a shower, but, you never got that far. ashton would’ve noticed that the noise of the shower never started, but he’s always been respectful to leave you to whatever you need to do.

it was different this time though. it was too quiet. he was sat in the living room, planning on cooking you both a nice dinner. however, you’d been acting different today. you’d been quiet, not as cheerful as usual when he arrived home from being elsewhere.

you were sat on the closed toilet, leaning against the counter as tears fell down your face. deciding if you were going to do what your mind had been telling you to do. you didn’t want to hurt yourself again, but what choice did you have? nothing else helped. it was practically staring you in the face from where you’d placed the sharp object on the counter.

you looked down at your arms, marks from a couple of weeks ago that were starting to heal properly. marks you hadn’t told ashton about. ashton knew you struggled more at this time of year; he’d been busy recently with work, he hadn’t had time to notice things going even more downhill.

while you were contemplating your choices, ashton had been making his way upstairs. he decided that maybe you needed some company with showering. you told him previously that you find it comforting showering together, so that’s what he’d do.

he entered the bedroom, still hearing no movement. he tried to go into the bathroom, met with the door not budging. just the handle twisting. he couldn’t open the door. you’d locked it.

“sweetheart?” he called out, sudden worry washing over him. “you okay in there?”

you’d jumped at the sound of him trying to open the door, you don’t usually lock it, but it was necessary this time. you didn’t answer him, trying to muffle your cries.

“baby? please answer me,” you could hear the frustration and fear in his tone. “i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m fine, ash,” you sniffled. “just leave me alone.”

it came out harsher than you meant it to. your emotions playing a part. you never ask him to leave you alone. that only happened when you were in this kind of situation.

“i’m not leaving,” ashton replied. “talk to me, please, i’m here, whatever you need.”

you let out an accidental loud cry, placing your head in your hands as you couldn’t hold back your cries any longer. you were in so much pain it was hard to handle.

ashton’s heart broke hearing the way you were crying. why hadn’t he noticed you weren’t as happy as normal, why hadn’t he noticed your depression taking a toll again. he should’ve noticed.

“can you open the door, baby?” he asked, trying his luck before he’d have to figure something else out.

“no,” you said with a gasp, your crying almost uncontrollable as you moved to pick the object up from the counter.

your shaky hands weren’t helping, causing you to drop it, making a clanging noise as it hit the floor. you knew ashton would’ve heard it, he would’ve put two and two together. you couldn’t pick it up, crying even harder.

ashton was going through his nightstand already, trying to find the outside key for the bathroom door. he was panicking by now, frantically trying to find it, worried when he didn’t come upon it instantly. until, a light caught his eye on the dresser.

the light reflecting on the key, he quickly picked it up, going back to the bathroom door. he slid the key into the lock, twisting it two times until he heard it click.

he pushed it open, causing you to quickly try and turn away, rushing to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down before he could see anything. you wiped your eyes on your sleeves instead, only glancing over to him for a second.

ashton looked to you first, he couldn’t miss the way you pulled at your sleeves, he looked to the ground, seeing the razor there, but it was clean which gave him slight relief.

he moved it out of the way, walking to you slowly, crouching down beside you. he placed one hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth, the other on your waist.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here now,” he tried to reassure. “what do you need?”

you shook your head, you couldn’t even look at him. you felt pathetic, like a disgrace. you couldn’t look your own boyfriend in the eye because you were embarrassed about how badly you were handling things.

ashton saw the expression on your face, it was too familiar. the same a couple of years ago, when you were struggling, when you had been harming yourself. he knew what was going on now.

“it’s okay if you’re not doing okay, love,” he said, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, wiping away your tears.

“i’m fine,” you bluntly responded. “i’m always fine, everything is always just fine.”

your hurt started turning into slight anger. angry with yourself, angry with the way you kept going around in circles with your mental health. you got a little better, and then things always became worse. it’s the same thing over and over and over.

“baby—“

“just leave me alone,” you folded your arms, pushing his hands away from you. not thinking straight with the other thoughts clouding your mind.

“i don’t want you to be alone,” ashton softly replied, trying to keep calm in this situation. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i’m handling it,” you tried to get a subtle look behind ashton, trying to find where the razor was. if you could just get him to leave—

“angel,” he got your attention. knowing that nickname would stop you from whatever else you’re thinking about. “you know it’s okay if you aren’t doing good, this isn’t something that will instantly go away, there are ups and downs and that’s okay. wherever you’re at now, i’m here to help you through it.”

you cried harder at that. everything was hurting. you were exhausted with life. you didn’t want to keep living like this.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, holding your hands over your face. “i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, why are you sorry?” ashton asked, standing himself up as he took your hands in his.

“i— i did it again,” you blubbered. taking a breath to try and control your crying. ashton didn’t know what you were talking about. “i know i said i’d talk to you if i felt that bad again, but i just— i couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

then it clicked. he knew what you meant. locking yourself in the bathroom, the razor you’d dropped on the floor. you’d been self harming again.

“you don’t have to apologise for that, baby,” he sighed. “it’s not something easy to talk about, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry to me.”

you were quiet after he said that. trying not to keep crying the way you were while also trying to figure out what to say next. his hands were still in yours, not planning on letting go any time soon.

“i thought things were getting better,” you complained honestly. “i was happy travelling with you the last two months, and as soon as we got home everything started crashing down on me.”

“being on tour was a big distraction for you, a new city every night, seeing places you’ve never been before, you didn’t have time to think about anything else,” ashton reminded. “now we’re home, there’s days where we have nothing going on, it gives your mind time to overthink and for those bad thoughts to come back.”

you didn’t say anything after that, ashton could tell it wasn’t helping with you sitting in the bathroom, the razor behind him on the floor. he pulled at your hands softly, urging you to stand with him. thankfully you did, walking with him as he lead you through to the bedroom. he took you over to the bed, only letting go of your hands so he could sit back against the headboard.

“come here, love,” he held one arm out, waiting for you to get comfortable.

you sat down, shuffling over to him. your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around you to keep you close. he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, causing you to look up at him.

“i don’t know what to do,” you suddenly spoke. ashton allowing you to get your thoughts out. “this feels never ending, it feels like there’s no way out apart from—“

“baby,” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. he knew what you were going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it come out of your mouth. “i know it’s hard, and i hate that you’re feeling like this again. you deserve so much happiness and i wish there was more i could do to take your pain away.”

“it hurts, ash,” you started to cry again, tears dropping down your cheeks continuously. “everything hurts so bad.”

he pulled you tighter against his chest, one hand on the back of your head, slowly running through your hair. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead every few moments, trying to let you know how much he loved you and that he was right there with you through this.

as your crying started to calm down, ashton took one of your hands in his, stretching out your arm slightly. you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“can i see?” he asked.

you weren’t sure at first, but eventually nodded your head. he gently pulled up your sleeve, each mark, scar and any new cuts revealing themselves to him. you sighed seeing the upset look on his face.

“they’re horrible,” you sniffled. tugging your arm away from him. “i’m sorry.”

“they aren’t horrible, baby,” ashton held your hand. he ran his thumb over a couple of old scars, then he lifted your arm up, pressing kisses along the length of it. “they show strength. it shows you’ve been strong enough to fight to stay in this world.”

you didn’t know how he could see it like that. in your own head, it showed how weak you were, how bad you were at coping with life.

“you’re the strongest person i know,” ashton continued, pulling your sleeve back down as he kept your hand in his. “it takes strength to admit you aren’t doing good, so i’m proud of you for telling me.”

“i don���t know what to do, ash,” you slouched further into his grip, cheek pressed against his chest. “nothing’s getting better, i don’t know what to do to get better. this cycle is becoming too much to deal with.”

ashton could’ve cried hearing you say that. knowing the person he loved is feeling so defeated broke his heart. he would do anything it takes to make you feel better, to try and help you.

“i’m here for you, baby,” he stroked his hand softly through your hair. “anything you need me to do, just say the word, i promise i will always be here for you.”

“i don’t know what else will help,” you sniffled. “therapy didn’t work, the meds made me feel worse, there’s nothing else. i have nothing else.”

“you have me,” ashton cupped your cheek in his hand, lifting your head to look at him. “if you want me to listen, if you need advice, if you want me to distract you, or if you just want me to hold you while you cry, i'll be here. no matter what.”

he leaned down, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips a few times in a row. finally getting a small smile out of you. if he could see your smile every day, his life would be complete. that’s all he wanted. for you to be happy.

“i’m sorry for being like this again,” you sighed. not holding eye contact. “i don’t know how you put up with me.”

“i’m not putting up with this,” ashton shook his head. “i care about you, more than anything, i’ll do whatever it takes to make this a little easier for you to get through, because you can get through it.”

you shuffle down, your head resting on his stomach as you close your eyes. tired out from the chaos of your own mind.

“we could take a few trips,” ashton suggested. “you love travelling. i know you still have that list of places you want to visit.”

“i do, but…” you paused, opening your eyes as you squeezed ashton’s hand in yours. “what happens when we come home? i’ll just be like this again.”

“we’ll try and find other things for you to enjoy,” ashton was determined to stay positive in this situation. “you love to draw, you love to create art, and i’ve seen the way you watch me play the drums and guitar. i could teach you, give you something else to put your mind to.”

you thought for a moment, wiping your sleeves over your eyes one last time. you couldn’t believe ashton still wanted to bother with trying after how difficult and negative you always were in this situation.

“okay,” you mumbled. ashton was surprised to hear that you’ll do this. “i don’t know if it’ll help, but i’ll try.”

“that’s a start,” ashton smiled. “the best thing you can do is try. even if it takes time.”

you nodded. finally looking up at him. you shuffled yourself upwards, capturing his lips in a unexpected but loving kiss. placing your hand on his cheek softly as you pull away.

“how would you feel about getting a guitar?” he asked, hands on your waist pulling you to straddle him. “i know how much you love painting, we could buy some paint for it so you can make it your own.”

“i could paint little flowers on it,” you excitedly suggested. “and maybe some butterflies too, that would look pretty.”

ashton nodded in agreement, just happy that you were willing to do this to see if it’ll help having your mind preoccupied with something like learning how to play an instrument. he hoped this would help, hating seeing you hurting like this.

“well, the band has no plans on making new music just yet,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “we could take a trip soon… italy maybe?”

“really? you want go to italy before going back to australia?” you asked, one of your bucket list places, knowing how much he wanted to head back to australia after tour ended.

“australia can wait, i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

you let out a long breath, leaning towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms around your back as he hugged you as close to him as he could get you. he kissed your cheek, making sure you knew he would always be there for moments like this.

“i love you,” he said quietly. “remember i’ll always be here, for anything you need. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you held him tighter. “i love you, ash.”

a few more tears threatened to leave your eyes as you hugged. you truly didn’t think you’d be here anymore if ashton hadn’t come into your life when he did. and now he can be your anchor that grounds you and gives you a reason to try and live this life, no matter how tough it might be.

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

[triz-costa]

Young Royals Fic Recs

YOUNG ROYALS (AO3)

5 times the students of Hillerska didn’t realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did by Piebingo/@piebingo

"5 times the students of Hillerska didn't realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did"

It’s not punishment (but why does it feel like it is) by starvalisedham (Chapters 5/6)

"three times crown prince Wilhelm did his duty, two times he refused, and one time where duty gave way for privilege. a.k.a. five times Wilhelm struggled to balance his duty as future monarch with his personal life, and the one time he learned to accept his lot in life (it helps that Simon has been there the entire time, helping him along) or: that ridiculously ham-handed fic where Hillerska students are constantly baffled by the dynamic between our two lovebirds"

Two Princes for the Price of One by Safr2n (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm spending time with Simon in Bjärstad leads to Erik discovering who his "crush" is. Turns out it comes in handy when he outs himself in front of the boys of Forest Bridge to defend Simon."

We’re In This Together by CaithyCat (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm and Simon try to cope with the aftermath of the video. Erik does everything he can to help."

Brothers, Brownies, and Brevity by NerdGirl07 (Erik lives)

"Written for the young royals secret santa exchange 2021 for the prompt: Erik lives! I'd love to see how the relationship between Erik and Simon could have been, if Erik had been alive. Erik being a great big brother, supporting Wilhelm and guiding him. Get ready for Erik being the greatest big brother ever, a dessert tower, a demonstration from the Hilerska rowing team, and an act of bravery."

You’re Simply the Best by cloudymilk (Chapters 27/27) (Erik lives)

“Hey Little brother,” Erik greeted. “Excited for your romantic rendezvous?” “Shut up,” Wille groaned, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Just making sure you didn’t chicken out,” Erik laughed. “Since August seems to be under the impression that you are coming home this weekend.” “Fucking August,” Wille muttered. “He’s staying back and I just- didn’t want to deal with him.” “So if you’re not staying there, and you’re not coming here…” Erik began, pausing for Willie to answer and giving another laugh when Wille didn’t fill in the blanks. “Pray tell Wilhelm, where exactly is my little brother spending the weekend? I thought your crush went to Hillerska?” or Erik lives"

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings by cloudymilk

"He’d always known Simon was beautiful, to him, it was a universal constant. But now, getting to see him in person, looking up at Wille so openly - eagerly - he was radiant. Following Wille's speech, he and Simon finally get some time alone together. Post S2 E6"

If hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head) by Lire_Casander (Chapters 36/36)

"when a car accident when coming back to the palace after the last day of the term ends up with wilhelm in a coma, there’s a fracture in time. wilhelm’s subconscious provides him with a whole, happy life where he gets to be with simon and erik never died. meanwhile, in the real world, queen kristina is faced with an impossible decision about family, duty and love. what will happen when both worlds - wilhelm’s dream world and the real world - clash together?"

Get it off your chest, get it off my desk by cloudymilk

"Vincent hasn’t called him to stand since the time with Felice, although there have been multiple nights where Simon has slept over. He supposes that while one can assume, it’s not actually evident that he and Simon had sex during those times (even though they definitely have). There was no mistaking the way they’d left early the night before, however. No mistaking the darkened bruise on Wille’s neck. They’ve already received some smirks from the boys around them, cheekily asking them if they’d had a goodnight."

Ace of Hearts by Whiterabbit11 (Chapters 6/6)

"Eventually, Kristina realises that Wille is a mama's boy. An outsider POV of Wille and Simon through their years at Hillerska."

Yes, Your Highness by Osseus (Part 1)

"Simon is still as sure as he ever was that there is no need to have a Queen, or a King, or anything of the sort, but there is the slight problem—that the crown prince is fucking hot and there is a part of Simon that truly does want to worship the boy, get on his knees and let him use that power that was so unceremoniously given to him on Simon, for Simon. So yeah, maybe he has taken his ‘fuck the monarchy’ stance a bit too seriously. Simon maybe gets off on using Willes title and Wille gets off on Simon using it, that's it, that's the fic."

Kneel by Osseus (Part 2)

"Getting hit with the full force of the prince’s attention is addicting and Simon absolutely loves that he is the only person who gets that Wille, everyone gets the Crown Prince, but he is the only one who gets to have the prince, to be wrapped in that intensity and to be had by him. And this is a problem for Simon—because every time he sees his boyfriend walking around in all of his commanding, silently demanding, princely glory, he can’t get his mind out of the gutter. — Or, Simon is loosing his mind over how hot he finds Wille’s newfound confidence."

Undo me, unravel me by Osseus (Part 3)

"Simon can barely keep his eyes off his boyfriend, standing tall and proud under the attentive gaze of those in the room. Wille commands the space with nothing more than a cough and a gaze and it is fucking addicting watching him do it. Simon already knows that he is going to be a mess by the end of the night. — Or, Simon is obsessed with how good Wille looks when he is all dressed up and the Crown Prince knows it."

Nothing to Fear by HeartStaaahp (Chapters 35/?)

“But it was me.” A collection of different POVs taking place after season 2 of Young Royals. Basically random headcanons from what I think/hope could happen in season 3 and beyond, way into the future. Nothing but happy endings for my royal babies."

Screwed by fandom_commitment_issues (Chapters 26/26)

"Erik lived, but things are still Royally screwed up."

Love Bites by fandom_commitment_issues

"Wilhelm came out on live television a week ago. Spectacularly, and unexpectedly, and – in classic Wille fashion – stupidly. Simon gets a little handsy. The students of Hillerska are curious by nature. Or The Hickey Crack Fic no one asked for."

[sincerely-sofie]

Do you have any particular headcanons about the Ultra Beasts?

Technically every Ultra Beast is an entire species, but I’m going to refer to specific members of each species who have fallen through Ultra Wormholes at one point or another and formed a found family of sorts together.

Novelette the Nihilego

A mad scientist type of individual. Knowledge-hungry and a bit callous in the questions she may ask, but is ultimately kind. She just doesn’t understand many social customs from her home world, let alone the new one she finds herself in.

Physically weak. Prone to hiding behind others when startled— uses people as living shields.

She is OBSESSED with mystery dungeons. Those don’t exist back home, and she’s desperate to figure out how they work.

Glows slightly in the dark. Glows brighter when she blushes.

Basil the Buzzwole

This man is a brick wall of muscle and friendship.

He and Novelette (whom he calls Novi) are very close. He doesn’t understand many of her discoveries or the research that leads to them, but he does his best to be supportive and help her with any experiments. Chemical reactions are a favorite topic of study for them.

Extremely emotive in his body language. He has a hard time reading people who aren’t very expressive physically. Doesn’t matter how much emotion is in your voice— of you’re not striking a pose alongside what you said, he’s gonna struggle to know whether you’re being sarcastic or not.

He makes the best fruit salads. No one knows how. You can follow the same process as he does when making a fruit salad and it won’t taste half as good as one he prepared.

Alabaster the Pheromosa

Despite her cool, unaffected demeanor, she’s extremely caring and a bit of a worry wart.

Where she’s from, pheromosas are the only form of intelligent life because they were the only sentient species that was capable of surviving in the aftermath of a massive explosion of unknown origins which turned the entire landscape into a massive desert filled with a strange energy.

She HATES feeling dirty / seeing dirty objects. Keeping yourself, your belongings, and your loved ones clean was a big deal for survival in her world, and while she understands that it’s not as critical in this new world, she still shows her concern for others by cleaning their things for them and nagging them to wash up before meals.

She frequently confuses pokemon of similar body types for each other.

She can instantly reach 120 miles per hour / 200 kilometers per hour from a dead stop. This results in her practically teleporting up to people at times and scaring the life out of them. She’s constantly reminding herself to walk very slowly and match others’ strides.

Watcher the Xurkitree

Spends a lot of time rooted into the ground for days on end, completely unresponsive. Whenever a storm rolls into the area, she rushes over to gather energy from any subsequent lightning strikes.

Quiet and stoic. Rarely talks about herself or her thoughts and opinions. Spends most of her time silently observing the people around her.

She’s pretty zany once she opens up to others. Make no mistake, she’s still stoic as ever, but she’ll say the most out-there things with deadpan delivery.

Can’t eat food and is confused by how people get energy from unmoving solids. Has a lot of opinions on the ways different types of electricity feel to absorb.

Enjoys swimming and being submerged in water.

Etta the Celesteela

Unlike the other Ultra Beasts, she has no mixed feelings about the thought of returning to her world. She’s getting back there ASAP, and she’s never looking back.

Communicates psychically with others. She was confused when people asked her how far she could communicate with people from. There’s no known limit to this ability.

She also has a lot of similarities with grass-types, getting energy over the course of centuries while buried in soil. She doesn’t spend much time in dirt in this new world, however, because she’s found that sitting in large bodies of water helps her gather energy much more efficiently. She might be able to return home even without an Ultra Wormhole if she spends the next decade in water.

She enjoys Watcher’s company whenever she visits Etta’s lake.

Coda the Kartana

A noble warrior-type who believes strongly in chivalry and intense moral codes.

Boasts about his strength and skill in battle, but is a bit of a coward who refuses to fight without another person on his side and will flee the second he catches a glimpse of fire or moisture.

At one point, Bud folds a piece of paper into a shape vaguely resembling him, and he became her self-assigned sworn protector.

Is affected by Alabaster’s pheromones more than any other ultra beast or pokemon. Thankfully, they’re not too much of a problem unless she’s very angry, which isn’t a common occurrence— but if she’s in an argument with someone and he’s remotely in the same area, he’s going to end up barely conscious and very emotional.

King the Guzzlord

Prickly and irritable, though he’s not intentionally cruel.

Constantly starving. It’s a miserable thing, and causes him a lot of pain. He tries to focus on various intellectual endeavors instead of how hungry he is.

If a field of study exists, he’s researched everything about it that he physically could.

Etta is almost constantly chatting with him telepathically. He really appreciates her company.

Pipo the Poipole

She’d get along great with Celebi if they ever met.

Strongly admires Deoxys.

Is technically capable of evolving, and has been for a very long time, but prefers being a poipole much more to the thought of becoming a naganadel.

Despite how different they are, King is her best friend, and she’s always secretly pestering Novelette and Basil about finding some way to make people feel full so that she can help ease her friend’s misery.

Chorus the Stakataka

Each brick is technically its own being— but they all form a single, unified consciousness that calls himself Chorus.

Absolutely loves music, which apparently doesn’t exist in his world, which is largely silent. He identifies strongly with songs being made up of multiple measures, melodies, and instruments— hence the name he chose for himself after entering this world.

He’s capable of removing individual bricks from his structure and placing them in different locations to observe the area. He’s not capable of remotely accessing the senses of any removed bricks, but gains the memories collected by the bricks when they’re reincorporated into his structure.

Ferryman the Blacephalon

A gadfly-type character who is always prodding people for reactions. Is constantly looking to make Watcher’s stoic demeanor falter.

He has a rather cruel sense of humor, and no topic of joke is off the table for him. Bud dislikes him greatly for this reason.

Gets his energy by feeding off of others’ emotions. The stronger the emotion, the better the fuel, so he likes to scare the life out of people by sneaking up behind them and making his head explode.

Has hidden depths that he refuses to acknowledge due to something unpleasant about his past.

Haven the Deoxys

Though he’s not your typical ultra beast, he has enough similarities with them to be considered an ultra beast native to this world.

An amnesiac who recalls very little from before he crash-landed on earth in a meteorite. He’s fascinated by the world around him— especially auroras, which he claims make noises like someone speaking nonsensical sentences.

Very fond of Bud. Despite his unfamiliarity with the concept of bonds developed past the depth of simple acquaintances, he considers her family. He’d give anything to make her smile.

Enjoys writing. He’s not very good at it (according to him) but he likes creating short story collections especially.

Necrozma the Necrozma

The best grandpa in the world.

Bud the Human

While she’s not an ultra beast, she’s been absorbed into their found family after Deoxys encountered her while she was lost and concluded that, as a creature that isn’t a Pokémon, she obviously must be an ultra beast.

As much as she loves her family in the main TPiaG cast, she finds it very freeing to be in a new group outside of them. Even after returning to live amongst humans in the Future, she makes sure to visit the long-lived ultra beasts she befriended in the Present.

She gets a lot of individual nicknames from the ultra beasts— pretty much every one of them has a unique way to address her.

This girl is collecting adopted parents like they’re trading cards. Someone stop her. She’s too powerful.

[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (2)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture

Summary: Could a mission to Y/n’s childhood home, the Autumn Court, spark a friendship between the night courts spymaster and the newest emissary? Or will they let their hatred come between, what could be, a strong bond?

A/N: I made Nuan from ACOWAR heavily OC in this, I haven't read the books in so long so please forgive any reference mistakes. I haven't read ACOSF either so keep that in mind, I did try to do my research for storyline purposes when it comes to the first 4 books. I also do not know how to describe dresses very well lol. Send me a message or comment if you want to be tagged in future parts.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

An Illyrian bastard! you could not stand him. He was a contemptuous brute as you knew most Illyrians were. Cassian and Rhysand were just fine, if only he turned out more like his brothers. Although the comment the former had made had you reeling. In no world do you see yourself sharing a bed with the Shadowsinger. What was worse was knowing the days to come were going to be filled with hours of what had just occurred. In the safety of your room, you had released the flames that begged for freedom, letting them kindle on your hands, careful not to get too close to the furniture.

The power you and your twin had shared assuming it had come from your mother's distant bloodline. Your mother was another factor that you had thought of constantly during your stay at this new court. While you dealt with your own struggles mentally, you and Lucien had a better life here in Velaris, you were free from all the males who once dominated your life. You couldn’t say the same for your poor mother. She was the one person you looked forward to seeing.

“He’s not right you know?” A smooth casual familiar voice echoed from behind you. Your power jolted, letting out a blast of controlled flames in your hands.

“I could have burned you, you idiot!” You shoved your brother away from you once you recovered from the shock.

“No, you really couldn’t have.” He chuckled. There Lucien stood a few feet behind you, he just left yesterday morning, there was no reason for him to be back so early.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You crossed your arms and shuffled closer to your bed, sitting on the edge.

“I heard Rhysand gave you a tough assignment, with an even tougher partner.”

“Do not call him my partner and he’s weaker than any of you give him credit for,” You snarked back.

Lucien put his hands up in surrender, “Relax I’m just here to ease the tension.”

“Like you ever,” You glared at him playfully.

“He has a way of making you tense so easily, Sister.” Lucien sits beside you on the edge of the end of your bed. “Despite your hatred for him, you need to place your trust in him fully while you’re there.”

“Why can’t you come with me?” You put on your best puppy dog-like pleading eyes, Lucien stopped falling for it once you both came to an age where life was not so easily bought by a sweet smile or those perfect doe eyes you were able to mimic.

“I would if I could, I have business elsewhere” He ruffled your hair pushing your head away lightly when you scowled at him. “Important business in the mortal realms of all places.”

“Oh please, you can feign annoyance all you want but you’ve found an interest there.”

“I don’t have much keeping me here anyway Y/n, better to keep busy.” A sad disposition had formed within him whenever he was near Elain, he couldn’t do more than he was already doing to make Elain comfortable around him.

The words stung, and suddenly the statement Azriel made didn’t seem so far off the truth. You knew you could make yourself useful enough to be of value but what did any of that mean when your own twin couldn’t find your company worthy. Obviously, he did have places to go and people to meet but you did too and if he ever needed you, you would drop everything to be there for him. The scar on your left cheek was a testament to that.

You sat there side-by-side for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other's company in silence. Lucien tapped your knee twice before declaring he walk you out before your journey. He wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders, “I will be here when you get back.” He squeezed you into his side.

Reaching the last step Azriel was there waiting for you, he gave Lucien a nod before looking away to give you and your brother privacy. You squeezed his middle, “You better.”

He gave you a kiss on your forehead, “Stay safe, sister.”

“Goodbye brother,” You whispered back to him before he disappeared into thin air. Cassian came out of the kitchen and nodded for you to come to him.

Once in the kitchen Cassian peeked out of the door and spoke in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know it’s gonna be hard but the only way this plan will work is if you both find a way to set aside your differences and learn how to communicate.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair giving him an exasperated look, you thought he was going to give you some advice or something more useful than a lecture. “Unlike him, I believe I can be civilized. Besides we’re about to have plenty of bonding time.”

You caught him wince at the word bonding, “Let’s hope so.”

“Was that it?” You asked. Cassian hummed in response and with a finger flicked your head up by your chin.

“Remember Y/n, don’t hesitate. Hesitate and you're dead.” The same advice he gave you throughout training, a feat you had consistent trouble with; hesitation. You were decent, despite being out of shape with the lack of training and with what little you knew of combat. Illyrian training was different than what you were used to but it was better and you learned enough to be of use if you were needed. Maybe a little clumsy and lacked some confidence in your skills but in a life-or-death situation you expected your survival instincts would kick in.

He guided you to where Azriel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his knife.

~~~

Winnowing to the dawn court went smoothly. You and Azriel winnowed separately, neither of you willing to touch each other, opting to travel alone rather than conserve energy to save time. The first big jump had you stopping for a break at the Day Court, you felt your power falter, the surge of fire from earlier draining you a little. The law of your power, where one of your powers is strong the others weaken.

You stopped by a lake for water, careful of your surroundings. A quick minute stop and when you had winnowed away to the point on the other side of the border where you knew to meet Azriel, he had given you an earful.

“Where were you?” His tone was nothing short of accusatory.

“I felt like I needed a short break so I stopped for some water,” You spoke casually so as not to alarm the always-on-edge spymaster. It took a toll on your patience but you needed him to be calm.

His eyes were narrow as he stared you down, “Where?”

“Near Day Court border Azriel, Where else?”

“Specifically where did you stop for water?” He pushed, “Shocking there were no sentries nearby.”

“I assure you whatever your mind conjured up about my whereabouts, is not true.”

“I just find it curious how you were not intercepted,” He crossed his arms and tilted his head “unless there is something that you’re not telling me.”

You were beginning to feel anxious by his interrogation, you didn’t have anything to hide but this felt familiar in the ways your brothers would question you after a night out or worse when you were on your little missions for them. Tamlin would do the same, jealous even though you knew he never truly loved you. Even when he had Feyre.

“I told you all there is to know,” You grit your teeth. “We’re wasting time on this useless topic when we would have been at Dawn already.”

“I don’t trust you.” He begins to walk in the direction of the border of the Dawn Court.

“Oh really?” Your voice is frivolous as you follow him, “I hadn’t gathered that. I can feel your shadows, they are not as obscure as you think they are. Even so, I have nothing to prove to you Shadowsinger.”

His jaw clenches, “You somehow have fooled everyone in my court that you are innocent but I will find a way to break you Firewielder.”

“And you will fail,” You stop walking when you step in front of him, blocking his way. “You think of me as some villain Azriel when I am just someone who is trying to get by in whatever way, whatever place I can. That is all I have been trying to do, all I have ever done. Gods, if your High Lady could forgive me, why can’t you?”

“You have caused my High Lady enough harm,” He says simply and starts to walk again but you block his path. “You do not deserve the forgiveness, Rhysand and Feyre have so graciously granted you.”

“I have paid for my sins just as I’m sure you have and will continue to do so, I do not need a constant reminder of my fuckups any more than you do.” Your words were like venom, you may not know all of what the Shadowsinger was made of but the whispers throughout the world of what he does to people, rumor or no- you knew would haunt him til the end of his days. “You are no better than I am Spymaster, you should do well to remember that next time you sink that knife into someone’s flesh.”

An astonished look featured on his chiseled face, you’d wager no one but his brothers dared to speak to him in such a way. You weren’t one to speak so flippantly, but Azriel brought out a side of you that you had to admit you reveled in. You hadn’t felt as strong as when you let all your anger out on him. Your brothers, your father, and Tamlin had made you cower into yourself so much so that you didn’t dare argue. Azriel lit a fire within you that fueled you to shed the weaker parts of your soul and fight back.

~~~

You were within the walls of the Dawn Court castle only minutes after your discussion with Azriel. Not a word was spoken after you said your peace, you stood next to each other with a generous amount of space between you as you waited for someone to attend to you at the front steps of the palace.

A friendly face appeared from behind the doors urging you both to come inside, the healer of the Dawn Court was a long-time friend of yours. You hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years yet her countenance was still the same. She hugged you in greeting and gave the Shadowsinger a nod.

“The High Lord is otherwise engaged unfortunately but he sends his regards and me of course,” Nuan clutched your arm that was already looped around hers. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” You smiled. Azriel repeated what you had said and followed close behind you. She guides you through a series of hallways with large pillars framing the view of the mountains.

“It’s not a problem, though I do ask that you join me for dinner tonight.” She pauses in front of a door, she’s still holding your arm so you assume this is Azriels room. “Both of you, it’ll be at that restaurant in town that we used to go to Y/n, you know the one.”

You nodded with pursed lips, “Yes, I do but I’m sure Azriel has other ideas on how he’d like to spend his night.” You tried to hint at her to leave him alone, you needed a break from him and his attitude.

“I’ll be there.” Was all Azriel said before bowing his head at her and closing himself in his room for the night.

Nuan raised her brows at you with a slightly agape mouth, dragging you through the long corridor lined with near-opalescent golden stone pillars. Once she had shown you your room a couple of doors down from Azriels, she shut the door behind her. “I had to give you this room so that I can talk to you without him hearing, Cauldron that male is astonishingly gorgeous.”

You snorted, “For a bat.”

She placed her hands on her hips, “Now I know damn well you have taste, Y/n and I know that you wholeheartedly agree with me.”

“I might have once upon a time, I’ve changed.” You smirked and strolled around the room, taking it all in. Your room had a balcony overlooking one of the many gardens, you would have chosen to stay at the Dawn Court if given the opportunity.

“Surely not because of the husband!” Nuan gasped. She reminded you of the one you were fake married to, Fae cannot lie but when one is desperate, the loopholes you find are wild.

You raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, “No, of course not.”

She walked toward you and reached out with her mechanical hand tracing the scar on your face, “Do you think he is that superficial? I have seen the scars on his hands Y/n, he is beautiful but not completely unmarred.”

“I forget how forward you are Nu,” You stepped out of her reach. “Have you heard the news of the faebane? It’s traveling all across the lands, the reason why we’re here.”

She nodded grimly, “Yes, I have heard but my information is limited. And you’re deflecting but that’s no matter, we shall continue that topic at dinner.”

“For an alchemist, you sure do like to gossip.” You teased, “You should seek out Azriel before dinner to discuss the faebane situation.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with an emissary? you make the most pleasant company for gossip.” She reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

~~~

You forgot how free-flowing Dawn Court fashion is, as you dressed you felt yourself grow self-conscious. The dress exposed your thighs, arms, and stomach with shibari-like knots around the torso and neck with layered sheer nude material covering. A huge difference from what you were wearing before. You reminded yourself of the fact that the fae of the Dawn Court were not judgmental people and they made dresses like this for all shapes and sizes and they saw every being as radiant. They were peaceful and kind and as you walked into the restaurant, you and Nuan had found one night, Azriel was sitting there in conversation with the dark-haired beauty.

Her dress was similar to yours, and her upturned eyes and olive-toned skin were complimented by the lavender color she was wearing. Azriel was talking intently, the loud chattering of everyone around you clouded your ability to hear what he was saying. Nuan was right, he was gorgeous. Beautiful in a way you could not compare to a male or female, he was otherwordly.

You scolded yourself mentally, as beautiful as he may be, his personality was not. His calculated, smooth-toned, encapsulating speech- your mind wandered again. You could not catch a break from him. Mentally or physically and you were sick of it. With a huff, you lifted the hem of your dress so that it would not catch onto your heel and strutted over to the table where Azriel was out of his chair and holding it out for you to take his place.

In the time you took to admire him from the entrance, you failed to see that they were sitting at a table for two. There was room for two more but you’d have to steal a chair from another table and he had given his chair to you. Your eyes flickered from the chair to him and hesitantly took a seat, he tucked you into the table, and you didn’t miss the way Nuan’s lips turned up on one side.

He pulled up a chair and sat. A Cheshire grin spread upon Nuan’s face, immediately nerves took over you.

“Now that we’re done exchanging information,” She nodded once to Azriel and directed her attention to you. “Y/n about that husband, how is he?”

Your jaw ticked, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t speak to him.”

She hummed, “Interesting. And your brother is he well?”

“Yes, he is, though I suspect you know that considering he visits you often.”

Her laugh came out in a bark, Azriel's eyes and shadows watched you two in a dance, silently observing your postures and hidden messages. He wouldn’t understand the game you and Nuan played, especially not the one Nuan was playing right now, you were beginning to lose track of yourself.

“So Tamlin is completely out of the picture now?” She went back to her original target. You coughed a little bit of the water you sipped a second before she asked. “No, Nuan.” You cursed. “I live in the night court now, everything's changed.”

“Just curious, Y/n/n-” She said lightheartedly. “Do you live there with him?” She glanced at the male sitting next to you. So this is what she wanted to know.

Azriels eyes widened, “Absolutely not!” You both exclaimed at the same time, creating looks coming from nearby tables.

“Apologies, really I thought you two were together, possibly in secret. I got a sense that you both were involved, please forgive me.” Nuan’s cheeks reddened as she stammered her apology.

You were entirely upset knowing that she was embarrassed by her display. You switch the topic as smoothly as you could, asking about how the faebane works and if there was any way she could create an antidote without knowing the exact ingredients in the newer version. She answered each question with ease, Azriel asked a few of his own and finished up the conversation they were having earlier about the theories on who could have made it. At that time your dinner was cleared, and the three of you lingered to pay for your meal.

“Excuse me, I believe I see a patient of mine who isn’t doing what he’s supposed to-” Nuan rushed out of her seat to an older-looking male.

You caught Azriels stare when you turned back into your chair. He looked pensive as he opened his mouth to speak, “How did you and Nuan…”

“Meet? Under the mountain.” You responded though you weren’t so sure why considering you still wanted to be petty for his interrogation. “She healed and made Lucien's eye, also helped me heal when I got the scar.”

A few moments of silence.

“I’d like to-” He cleared his throat “I’d like to apologize for earlier.”

Your eyes search his in suspicion, he continues. “I should have believed you. My shadows told me that you were speaking the truth and I didn’t believe you.”

“I have had enough overbearing males in my life dictating my life and questioning my every move without you being added to the list.”

“I’m trying Y/n,” He sighed clenching the table napkin.

“By telling me that your shadows tried to plead my case and even then you wouldn’t believe me?”

“When you put it that way.” He breathed out a laugh, the closest one you’ve ever heard from him that was meant for your ears. It was a small gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by you. Around you, he was always so tense.

“What is it then?” You inquire, “Do you hate me or could we call a truce?”

“As if you could hold your tongue for long enough for me not to hate you.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, “You are truly unrelenting, if this is how you are with me I wonder how are with the people you bring to your chamber.”

“You talk of my work with so much ease,” He grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to actually stomach it.”

The humor that hung in the air was gone, you sensed a challenge. “I can’t do what you do but I am not afraid of you Shadowsinger.”

His hazel eyes beheld yours, exploring them, you weren’t sure what he was searching for but the intensity with which he stared unnerved you. “If you weren’t the sister of the male I despise the most and if you weren’t once married to the one who caused my lady so much grief, I could be inclined to like you.” His smooth low toned voice was hypnotic.

You reached for your glass of wine, the energy too much for you to take sober taking a sip before replying “If you weren’t such an insufferable bastard, I could be inclined to say the same.”

“I still don’t trust you,” Azriel said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, “Do you have mind healers in Velaris? Cause you desperately need one, you all do.”

That brought out a deep laugh from him, you looked at him in awe at the melody that came from his mouth and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. Your stare fixed upon his smile, bright and angelic made your heart jump. He was suddenly aware of you and the wall he had when he was around you built up again.

Your mind felt the need to know if what he said earlier was true, “Is that really why you hate me?”

“You can’t just let a moment be, can you Firewielder?” He no longer carried that sharp grin that had you melting for a second.

“I am not my brother, Eris I mean, what he’s done. I have no part in it.”

He nodded slowly, “Now tell me why you hate me.”

You picked at your cuticle as you spoke- a nervous human habit that you picked up throughout your years. “I don’t. I don’t particularly like you but you have done nothing but make my life miserable since the moment you rescued us from the ice and every moment after that.”

You were being chased by your brothers along with Feyre and Lucien when Cassian and Azriel had come to Feyre's aid. That was when you had found out that Feyre was the High Lady of the Night Court when you and Lucien had been brought to Velaris and saw the city you’ve grown to love. It was the start of everything. Before and after the war.

You and Lucien were appointed as emissaries to the night court, Lucien had his assignments and you had yours. You served as both emissary and spy (occasionally), while Lucien had to send bi-weekly reports to Azriel, you had to report to him for every single assignment unless specified otherwise by the High Lord. This is the cause of the clash you had with the Spymaster.

That day was the only day you had peace from him, if only because nobody in the inner circle had warmed to your presence yet.

“My whole life I’ve heard of the monstrous fae who served the Night Court, the Court of Nightmares was real to me but I was never afraid of the stories- of you. All you did was prove that the stories were true, like the act you all put on when you go there, is real.”

“You should know that I do not find it easy to be around you Y/n.” You were about to ask him what he meant when Nuan’s figure came into view, pulling a lesser fae male along with her.

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Damian- Damian this is the friend I told you about.” Nuan shoved him your way as you stood, you stumbled into him and he steadied you by your elbows. “I took care of the bill by the way, I told Damian he should walk you to the palace. Azriel and I still have loads to discuss.”

You smiled shyly at the blond-haired guy in front of you and turned your head to where Azriel was once sitting, you were about to protest but Nuan was already dragging Azriel out the door. You appreciated your friend's efforts to set you up with the attractive male that was nothing short of a gentleman as he made easy conversation during the walk to the palace, but after dinner with Azriel, this guy wasn’t going to cut it. It would be too easy for you to bring him up to your room and spend the night with him but you were on a job and you were not going to give Azriel another to scold you. 

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist: @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468

[honeybeefae]

oooo forbidden love with eris or azriel? maybe even a triangle 👀

Out of the Woods (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

BINGO: FORBIDDEN LOVE

(I ended up going with Eris bc this idea literally is so much fun plus I’ve got so many Azriel requests! This request didn’t specify if it was NSFW or SFW so I just went for SFW! This literally came to life as I was writing it and I want to continue it SO bad so pls let me know if you guys would be interested lmao)

WARNINGS: Fighting, talks of death, a little gore in terms of blood

You had been coming to these woods ever since you had first seen him chasing after your assailants. What he was doing in the mortal realm you didn’t know nor care but you were grateful he was there that day. He had seen them drag you into the woods, ready to do unspeakable things, until each one of them suddenly burst into flames redder than you had ever seen.

One by one they dropped dead and you stood there, terrified, as the red hair fae emerged from the shadows. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and while you should have run or screamed or even fought, you just gazed at him.

He stopped a few feet away from you, his amber eyes focused on your breathing as you opened your mouth and whispered, “Thank you.”

It was the last thing he had expected you to say and it took him a minute to recover, a small smile turning his lips despite the image he was trying to portray. You drew in a sharp breath when he stepped into your personal space, bending down until he was at eye level.

“Run.”

The single word made your heart jump and instinct took over, breaking you from the spell as you turned on your heel and ran back to your village. You kept glancing over your shoulder, making sure he wasn’t following and didn’t stop until you were in your bedroom with the door closed. It felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest as you scurried under the covers like a child. 

As the adrenaline wore off and the night grew darker you started to drift off to sleep despite yourself, your eyes slowly closing until you dreamed about the man in the forest. You could’ve sworn you felt something touch your cheek that night, the smell of embers and pine wrapping around you like a blanket.

—--------------------

You didn’t go into the forest for several days, feigning sickness or pain whenever your father would ask you to go forage before the winter. The excuses worked for a while until he put his foot down, yelling at you that you needed to go out or risk starvation. 

This time you wore a cloak and had a dagger sheathed in your belt, the empty basket swaying from side to side as you went to the small berry patch close to the thickets and river. You felt tense the entire time, constantly looking over your shoulder, and just as you felt you could relax as you stood you felt eyes on you.

He was staring at you from the other side of the river, taking in your shocked expression before vanishing into thin air. You didn’t stick around to see where he went, turning to run back home only to smack into something solid.

Not something…someone.

“What are you doing in the forest again by yourself?” The man asked, his voice low as he captured your wrist in his hand when you tried to run. “I thought I told you to run.”

Your mouth was dry as you opened and closed it, your pulse fluttering under his fingertips as you struggled briefly to break away. His touch was warm, warmer than the average human, and it made your skin tingle in a weird way. 

“Answer me, human.” He sneered, lacking the patience that a man his age probably should have. You knew the fae were practically immortal and given how he looked a few years older than you, he had to have been around for a while.

“I-I had to come to get food for my family.” You stutter, clearing your throat from how hoarse it sounded. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be asking those questions.” He responded while glancing at your wrist in his hand. “This forest is too dangerous for someone like you to be in. There are wolves and foxes and evil men waiting to snatch you up.”

“Lucky you killed one of those three for me then, isn’t it?” You said boldly, your eyes widening when you realized you hadn’t filtered that thought from coming out of your mouth. Immediately your cheeks heated and you looked away, pulling once more.

He let you go, smirking when you stumbled back and fell on your ass. You scurried back a few paces when he crouched down to watch you more closely.

“Don’t come into these woods again, do you understand? It is not safe and I’m not going to go out of my way to save you.” He stated, offering his hand for you to take. You glanced at it and then his face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion before he grew tired of your antics and pulled you up himself.

He looked you over one more time, catching the dagger on your hips as it caught the afternoon sun. “And make sure you know how to use that or you might as well beat someone off with a stick.”

As he turned to go back from wherever he came from you found yourself calling for him, voice tight as you asked, “What is your name?”

The fae man stopped but didn’t turn around, debating on what he should say before he turned his head to the left slightly. You could make out his profile, the bridge of his nose, and his pointed ear as he said, “Eris.”

You watched as he disappeared once again, your heart thrumming as you stood there for a moment digesting what had just happened. Eris. His name was Eris. The name sounded weird in your head and yet it was all you could think about on your walk home, testing it on your tongue until you arrived at your doorstep.

Night quickly fell as you washed the fruit and finished your daily chores, bidding your family goodnight and making your way back to your bed. The smell from your dreams was still present, especially by your bed, and you fell asleep once more to the face of the fae, of Eris. 

Only this time you dreamt of him in a forest of red and yellow.

—--------------------------

The next time you went into the woods was when your village was under attack by the soldiers of Hybern. They were ransacking every home, every family, and taking whatever they wanted. You had heard the screams of women, men, and children as great fires suddenly lit up the sky.

Your family was trying to gather their most precious belongings but by the time they were ready to run it was too late. Three large men burst inside, their entire aura reeking of evil as they took in your small abode. Without warning you saw your father grab his sword off the wall and hurl it at the tallest soldier blocking the door, watching as it sank into his arm.

He let out a roar of rage and your father screamed at you all to run, his stance brave. You and your mother and brother took the opportunity and sprinted out into the street, feeling the other soldiers hot on your heels. You decided to turn the opposite way and head towards the forest, your head screaming at you as both men followed you. 

You were breathing hard as you tried your best to see in the dark, crying out as branches and thorns scraped across your skin. Blood was running down your arms by the time you got to the river and when you turned to look behind you, you realized they were no longer there.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

Seconds were passing by agonizingly slow as you waited with bated breath, sweat making your skin sticky as your head whipped around furiously for any sign of them. A twig snapped behind you and you didn’t have time to brace yourself as a heavy body slammed into you, knocking you onto the forest floor and stealing the very breath from your lungs.

“Stupid bitch thinks she can outrun us.” The soldier laughed, pinning your arms above your head as he glared at you with hatred. “Let’s see how far you can run when I’ve got my c-”

Before he can finish the sentence a ring of fire wraps around his throat and squeezes until his head is severed from his body. Warm blood covers your nightgown as you stare in terror, your vocal cords unable to move as the other Hybern soldier meets the same fate.

Soft footsteps head in your direction and you close your eyes tightly, not wanting to see whoever was going to kill you until you felt the familiar tingle of Eris’s hands wrapping around your body. He lifts you into his arms without a word and looks around, making sure no one is left before vanishing with you held tightly against him.

You felt like you were falling as he appeared in front of a cabin, a small candle lit in the window as he walked through the front door and shut it behind him. He wordlessly walked over to the bathroom and turned on the tap, setting you gingerly on the floor.

He tested the water with his rest and when satisfied, poured some soap into it until bubbles started to appear. You had your knees drawn up to your chest, watching him while he strode over to you and picked you up again. Eris made easy work of your nightgown, ripping it down the middle with just a few fingers and putting you into the water.

Both of your hands came up to cover your chest as he submerged you in warmth, looking at your nightgown with disgust before burning it in his grasp. You blinked rapidly, watching the ash fall to the floor, before turning your eyes to his.

“You came for me.” You whispered hoarsely. “You killed those men…for me.”

“I told you to stay out of the forest.” He snapped, a deep frown settled on his face. “I told you the dangers but you didn’t listen, you refused to listen. Do you know what could have happened to you if I wasn’t there?”

You did know. You wouldn’t be here with a strange fae man named Eris. You wouldn’t be in a warm bath in a grand cabin. You would probably be dead, along with the rest of your family and your village. 

The thought of your family had tears falling down your cheeks and into the bath, tiny ripples disturbing the water under the bubbles. You hoped they had escaped, found somewhere to hide, and your father…

A soft sob had your shoulders shaking as you turned your back to Eris, bringing your knees in once more and resting your face between them. Everything you knew, everyone you knew, it was all up in flames. Literally.

Minutes passed by without a word spoken and you had thought he had left you alone until you heard him shuffle behind you and sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s not what you need right now. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why do you care so much?” You mumbled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You barely know me. You’re a fae, I’m a human. What game are you playing here?”

“I’m not playing a game.” Eris defended, watching as you angle your head to look at him. “I swear.”

“Then why save me? Why bring me here? I thought you hated our kind.” You were misdirecting your anger at the man who saved your life but you couldn’t help it, you wanted something to make sense in your life. “Am I a servant to you? Are you going to keep me trapped here for the rest of my life?”

“If I wanted a servant I could have easily found anyone so watch your tone.” Eris suddenly stood, his eyes hot with anger. “Is this how you are thanking me for saving your life? By questioning my decisions? Would you rather I take you back to those terrible men, to that terrible life?”

“I just want an answer!” You scream back, standing up and staring him down. You didn’t care that you were naked, you didn’t care that this man could kill you with a snap of his fingers. He owed you a damn explanation. “Just tell me why!”

Eris’s jaw twitched while his nostrils flared, his fists curling at his side briefly before relaxing. He took a deep breath and turned around and grabbed a towel, tossing it in your direction. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to a human.” He said, pausing in the doorframe. “Dry off, get dressed, and come out here when you’re done.”

He shut the door before you could respond but you still let out a scream of frustration, stomping your foot like a child as you gripped the towel firmly. You stared at where he had just been, willing him to come back, before letting your shoulders sag in defeat.

Whatever he was going to do, whatever compelled him to save you, you obviously weren’t going to find out tonight. This communication between the two of you shouldn’t have even started in the first place, it was forbidden and yet here you were. 

Stuck in a cabin with Eris…your new home for the time being. 

[mrkerina]

Decent 𓍼 Park Jisung

— (high school au) in which you’re insecure and he worries about you.

Pairing — Park jisung (nct) x fem!reader

Word count — 1384

Content — You have never gotten validation all your life, life felt a little bit bleak but he managed to light it up even if for only a moment.

M.list + Author’s note — I decided that i’ll post for leisure, still love the feeling of just writing. I’m a sucker for words of affirmation btw. Happy reading!

You look decent.

Your grades are decent.

Your skills are decent.

Decent. That is just what she was. Regardless of how much tireless effort she places in everything she does, all she ends up with is that one word - Decent.

It has never been anything more nor anything less. She felt suffocated by that word like she could never be recognised for being something more. It was as if she was just a figment of imagination in a sea of people. No one wanted someone who was just decent.

They would always go for exceptionally good people. The ones who stood out. Those that were way more skillful, talented or smart in everything they do.

It was just unfair.

Why is it that she was never anything more than decent to anyone? Why did she have to struggle so much just to try to be something better?

Perfection seemed unattainable. She felt as if she always fell short from everyone around her. She could study for days for a test but still score decently as compared to others who study the night before and still do better than her.

Maybe it was just her method of studying that was not suited for her, but to her - it felt like she just had something lacking in every aspect of her life.

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

Just like everything else in life, there are always two ends of the spectrum. In this case, Park Jisung was everything but decent. From his looks to the way he dances so flawlessly and smoothly, everything about him was exceptional.

No one is perfect, but he sure comes close to being perfect. You were envious of him. He had the reputation that everyone wanted, it felt like he had his entire life already laid out in front of him. It was easy to tell where he was headed towards, whether or not he would be successful in life. Everything just felt easy for him, while you had to constantly suffer from the pessimistic thoughts of not being able to make it far in life - ending up with a job that you absolutely hate to do.

From Jisung’s perspective though, it would be a lie if he said that his life was not easy. It did feel like he could have everything and anything he wanted, he didn’t feel like a complete failure. But that was exactly what kept him up at night - the fear of failing.

He constantly worked to make himself seem like a strong person, someone who was so accomplished and had everything set out in life. And he is successful at doing just that, in accomplishing everything he puts his mind to, everything except for you.

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

“Okay class, settle down, I will be giving back your test papers that you did two weeks ago,” the teacher’s voice roared through the class. “I would like to congratulate Park Jisung on getting full marks….again.” A round of applause sounded throughout the class as he smiled shyly at the attention as he went up to take his paper. His eyes skimmed the class and towards the girl in the corner who was just staring out of the window into space.

Unknowingly, the corners of his lip tilted down slightly and a slight wave of sadness washed through him.

As people walked to the front one by one to collect their papers, his eyes couldn’t help but drift towards you. When it reached your turn, you took the paper in anticipation but when you saw the score on the front page, your heart sank.

64%. That was the usual grade that you got and yet you still couldn’t help but feel disappointed over and over again. Your classmates were all squealing at their scores while you sat back at your seat silently. Another test that you studied hard for and yet still didn’t improve nor get a score that you wanted.

“For those who did well, good job. For those who didn’t do as well, go home and reflect, and do better next time. You are all dismissed.”

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

You sighed in defeat, looking through your mistakes as you stayed at your seat while everyone else in class ran out of the door. Your heart felt heavy, as you started to grip the paper progressively harder the more you stare at it.

Once it was only you left in class, it was as if it was the trigger as the tears started rolling down your face. One came after another until you were full-on sobbing. The pressure just felt too much for you, and the disappointment that came with it just further aggravated the emotions that you felt.

Your future felt bleak. How can you pursue something if you weren’t good at anything?

In this vulnerable moment, a boy happened to rush into the classroom. Seemingly in a rush to grab something but got alarmed when he saw the teary-eyed girl sitting in the corner. Jisung stopped in his tracks, grimacing when the door slammed behind him causing you to jump in surprise.

You didn’t expect anyone to come in, especially him.

You vigorously jumped into action, wiping away your tears and calming yourself down. Although it didn’t exactly work, you continued to hiccup and looked away from the boy who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He let out an awkward cough. “Um..sorry…I forgot to grab something…” he trailed off. You simply nodded in response, still facing away from him, not wanting him to see you in this state. Jisung hesitated before asking “are you okay?”

“Yes,” you softly replied, your voice slightly choked up from the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

The boy walked to his desk to take his phone before walking back towards the door but paused midway. In his head he knew that maybe he should just leave her alone to sort out her feelings but he couldn’t simply shake away the tightening of his chest with every sob that she quietly let out in the midst of the silent classroom.

With a goal in mind, he turned back around and quietly took a seat opposite her. His palms started sweating as his brain spun sentences on what to say or do. After a few wordless moments, he finally spoke up. “Do you want to talk about it?” He questioned softly, not wanting to scare the girl. “Uh or if you’re uncomfortable I can actually leave…maybe i’m just being intrusive, if so i’m sorry,” he started rambling.

You looked up, slightly surprised at how close he was to you. “No, it’s okay. I’m not uncomfortable, I'm just upset about my test that’s all,” you said, mumbling the last part.

“64% is pretty good. Why are you sad? Cheer up okay, there is always a next time!” Jisung smiled trying to be optimistic but stopping when he watched the girl scoff.

“You can say that because you got full marks.”

“Huh what, no, of course not. I’m just saying it is pretty good considering half the class failed.”

You sighed, shoving your test paper in your bag before zipping it up. “It’s just a decent score, there is nothing good about it,” You muttered. “Nevermind, you can go, I’ll be fine. You’re right, it is just another test I did decently in. Whatever. I’ll just leave after I look better, you can go though, thanks for checking in on me.”

You looked back out the window, resting your chin on your palm, expecting him to leave. However, instead, Jisung grabbed a pen from your pencil case and took a post-it paper that he kept under his table before scribbling on it. He left it on the corner of your table before quietly turning around to leave.

“Just text me if you ever need help in anything or uh just need someone to talk to okay?” He said before closing the door behind him.

You looked at the post-it after the door closed with a thud. Your heart warmed reading it, your lips stretching into a small smile. Hope bloomed in your chest, maybe everything will be okay.

You are never just decent to me.

You did well, I’m proud of you :)

It’ll get better.

Here is my number if you ever need it

061-321-3928

— Jisung.

[pomegranate]

Ok, listen i love BJ just fine, he is certainly THE character of all time, but sometimes i struggle, i cannot move past the not one but two times he told Hawkeye and Margaret that their, problems, their suffering doesn't matter as much, because they are not married and haven't procreated (he is such an infuriating WASP sometimes), i think about those times and get mad at him all over again (mostly im mad because this 70's show didn't provide satisfying for me resolution to those moments and BJ got to get away with non-apologies, which is probably irrational on my part)

I get where you’re coming from, anon! He’s callously cruel in “Period of Adjustment” and “Wheelers & Dealers” when he lashes out at both Hawkeye and Margaret because of his own turmoil. And while I wish we’d had more time in the former episode for a proper resolution between BJ and Hawkeye (including a sober apology), the limitations of television at that time - like you say, with it being the 70s/80s pretending to be the 50s - means we get what we get & everything else must be dealt with through fanfic. I actually do think Margaret’s dressing down of BJ in W&D is immensely satisfying and while he doesn’t actually say the words “I’m sorry” at the end of that episode, he does show remorse and a willingness to eat his own humble pie - it’s just done in that typical sitcommy way.

The thing about BJ and his moments of cruelty is that they’re meant to be exceptional and unusual, but because the tone of the show has shifted by the later seasons, we don’t always get as satisfying a resolution as we’d like. And I think a big part of it is that BJ, who is by all accounts a kind and compassionate man when he arrives in Korea, is an example of what happens when good men are dragged into an immoral and unjust situation. It is unfair that he’s forced to miss the first two years of his daughter’s life and it’s understandable that he’s hurting about it. And it’s not fair that he takes it out on his closest friends, but that’s the ugly reality of what war can do to a person - if you’re constantly surrounded by senseless cruelty, you might find yourself emulating that senseless cruelty in ways you never thought you could. So as the series progresses, we see more examples of BJ losing his grip on the person he was before the war and having to come to terms with the fact that he’s changed. Even in GFA, up until the very end, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s never going to be the same. BJ is a man who appears to be afraid of losing his identity (father, husband, surgeon) so every time something happens that shakes his sense of self, we see him having a very hard time. His ability to be compassionate and caring seems to falter the most when this happens but again, because it’s a sitcom*, we’re meant to assume everything goes back to normal at the end of the episode.

I think part of why I like BJ so much is because of the flaws we see exposed during the later seasons - I like that he’s occasionally mean and selfish and unfair because it makes sense for what he’s been through. It’s what war can do to a man. (It can also make a man crack up - and I could write another essay on why people seem to ignore how the trauma of what happened with Hawkeye in GFA impacted those closest to him but that’s a post for another day).

WHOOPS sorry for the essay anon, I just love talking about this guy so thank you for giving me an opportunity to do so 😊

*I know calling it a “sitcom” is an oversimplification but it was technically part of that genre at the time, despite us probably classifying it as something else nowadays

[buckleysjareau]

i took the medicine, but i’m up in the middle of the night again

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

or

An exploration of Buck’s anxiety, accepting help no matter how scary it is, and how the 118 come to help him in their own ways.

READ ON AO3 HERE

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

Underneath his big, extroverted personality was someone who was constantly overthinking every little thing he said and felt. His mind was constantly a mess of why did I just say that, what did that look mean, where’s the closest exit in case something bad happens and can I sit there?

In high school, when he just could not get himself to focus no matter how hard he tried, those thoughts would slowly get louder and louder and louder until they completely overtook him, drowning out everything else around him until all he could hear and feel was his heart trying to beat through his ribcage. He never seemed to remember how he got to be sitting on the bathroom floor, only ever being able to recall thinking I need to get out, get out, abort.

That call definitely got his parents’ attention.

“You’re skipping class now? It’s that football team, isn’t it? What’s next, selling drugs?”

Maddie finds him that night on his bedroom floor struggling to breathe. She helps sit him up, pushes his head between his knees and tells him to match her breathing. When he’s finally able to breathe in sync with her, he tearfully begs her to tell him what is wrong with him and why this keeps happening.

Having a name to what he was experiencing should have made him feel better, but it doesn’t. Having panic attacks is just another reason on a whole list of reasons why his parents can’t love him.

He doesn’t tell them about his panic attacks and begs Maddie not to tell them either. He makes her pinky swear that it stays between them.

It only happens one more time before he graduates.

He gets accepted into Penn State on an athletic scholarship and finally escapes the suffocating expectations of living with his parents.

He quickly learns that even though he’s not under their roof physically, he still feels stuck there. It’s like his body is at Penn State but his mind never left Hershey.

It’s like he never left.

The overwhelming feeling of having to be perfect or hurt to keep someone’s attention. The constant pit in his stomach and the dread that follows him wherever he goes. The only time he feels even remotely like a functioning human being is when he’s too drunk to forget he has anything else to worry about.

The drinking affects his studies, and his poor studies affects his athletic scholarship, and he’s forced to move back to a place where he has to get himself hurt in order to not feel invisible.

A screaming match with his parents ends with his first panic attack since high school. It’s truly like he never left.

He enrolls in community college just to have something to do so he’s not stuck inside that hell all day. He meets people his second week there and soon enough, his partying habit is back in full force. His parents are beyond angry every time he returns in the middle of the night, but when he doesn’t come home at all for days at a time, they don’t notice his absence. Much like it was when he was growing up.

He uses the tuition money on modifications for his motorcycle and bankrolls a few of frat parties. He’s not surprised when he’s kicked out of that school, but he was definitely sick with anxiety. His parents were going to kill him.

He’s thinking that as a car pulls out and he has no time to brake before he’s crashing right into the car.

The medics bring him to Presbyterian to get checked out, but as soon as they discharge him he gets a ride to his only other option, his safe space, to his sister.

When she turns him away with sad eyes, he has to swallow back his panic. It’s not Maddie’s fault he’s a fuck up. She shouldn’t have to deal with his bad decisions.

He just about manages to stave off a panic attack by the time he needs to face his parents. Then Maddie shows up with a ticket out of here in the form of her Jeep and he feels the weight ease off of his chest.

He’s mad, and he’s hurt, so fucking hurt, when Maddie stands him up with no more than a note but it doesn’t stop him. He leaves in Maddie’s Jeep without her steady, supportive energy next to him. He sits with it for a while and then he starts living.

He still feels anxiety but it’s not consuming him the way it used to. He can do things and it wouldn’t matter because he’d be off in a new city in a few weeks anyway.

—

LA was good for him. The fire academy was good for him.

It was good for Buck.

His first four months as a probie were a little rough, but after his wake up call that came in the form of him getting fired, being fortunate enough to have a second chance, and meeting Abby, it all seemed to settle down again.

Bobby, Hen, and Chimney seemed to fully accept them into their little family and what a concept that was; he had a family.

A family who didn’t look through him as if he was invisible.

They saw him.

Which is why Hen can see through his half-assed ‘I’m fine' when his anxiety is too much to push away, he presumes.

A lot has happened within two weeks and it all seemed to be piling up, one thing after the other and Buck could feel himself slowly losing the tight grip he thought he had on his anxiety.

Abby stops responding completely. Their communication slowly dwindled down to nothing, a short phone call once a day, a text here and there, an update every time she went to a different country, and then nothing. He couldn’t help but obsess over what he could have done wrong. The dread that he somehow messed up, that he wasn’t enough to yet another person, keeps him up at night. He explains away the circles under his eyes by complaining about Abby’s loud neighbors. He thinks they believe him.

Then Eddie Diaz joins and the team treats him like he hasn’t just graduated from the fire academy. It took four months for the team to trust that he knew what he was doing, and it’s Diaz’s first day and they let him lead. He can’t stop from spiraling over the fear that the team won’t think he’s as good as Eddie and that’s all it will take to replace him. He reverts to old habits and lashes out. Fortunately for himself and everyone around them, Buck gets over it after he bonds with him over a live grenade but it does nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

In the middle of all of that, Maddie comes back. The sister he hasn’t talked to in three years. While he’s so relieved to see her, it brings up feelings he had buried deep down. He finds out why he hasn’t heard from her in three years and he has to try with everything in him not to have his first panic attack in years and make it about himself. Because it wasn’t about him.

Then the earthquake happens and he almost loses Hen.

All of the anxiety from the past two weeks starts to bubble over and it becomes harder to hide. He picks at his cuticles until they bleed and finds it hard to stop bouncing his leg even, even — especially — after a sleep deprived Chimney tells him to knock it off when they’re on the way to a call.

Hen notices, of course she does. She hands him a band aid, gesturing towards the cuticle around his thumb starting to drip blood at the look of confusion. He tells her he’s fine with the most convincing smile he could muster.

She lets him think she believes him for the first half of the shift, but after a particularly difficult rescue that leaves Buck shaking and carefully counting his breaths so as to not hyperventilate, she pushes.

He’s pacing back and forth, tugging at his hair with a grip so tight that his curls are messily on show, when Hen finds him.

She’s leaning against the door to the bunk room when he finally sees her. He’s startled enough to lose count on his breathing and that’s all it takes to slip into panic attack territory. His breaths immediately get faster as he tries to force out a lie.

Hen clocked it right away. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine right now, Buck. Talk to me.”

“I–I, uh, I ca–” As if that’s easy. “I–”

Hen seems to take pity on him as he starts to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?”

“I can’t b-breathe, I c–”

“Yes you can, Buck. You just gotta slow it down. Just let me count and you follow, okay?”

Buck nods.

—

Hen gets him through that panic attack. He begs her to not tell Bobby about his weakness and no amount of reassurance that it wasn’t a weakness made him back down.

After that, it’s never talked about again.

Not until he finally decides to go therapy and Dr. Copeland suggests that he try medication for his anxiety.

An actual diagnosis. That his therapist highly recommends getting medicated for.

He’s stuck on that fact for days after that session and even Eddie has a hard time getting through to him. He keeps this diagnosis and his contemplation to himself.

Until his parents come to LA and blow up his life.

He has a panic attack in Chimney’s passenger seat and happens to spill his guts in the midst of it.

“There’s nothing shameful about taking medication, Buck. You take medications to improve your physical health, why is it so different when it comes to your mental health?” He gives Buck a pointed look. “And look, after everything this week, a mental breakdown or a panic attack was definitely due but you said yourself, it’s getting to be a frequent thing and it’s affecting your physical health now too. What’s stopping you from at least trying it out?”

“What if it doesn’t help? What if I’m too messed up for medication to cure me?”

What if all he is is just his anxiety and nothing he does will be able to fix it? What if living with this is his big punishment for not being able to save his brother? What if this is all he is and all he ever will be?

“Daniel dying is not your fault, Buck.” Chimney starts off, making Buck realize his spiral was spoken out loud. “And the anxiety you feel? That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be. You’re Buck, a damn good firefighter and an even better friend. You deserve to get help, man. Accept it.”

As if accepting help is truly that easy.

“Thanks, Chim.” He mumbles instead.

—

All the medication does is make him more anxious. He feels like he’s going out of his mind and finds himself regretting letting Chimney talk him into getting help.

“That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be.”

Doesn’t seem like it to him. Not as he’s on the verge of a panic attack even after taking the medication that would supposedly help him feel less anxious.

He’s halfway through his shift and it’s just past family dinner. He definitely doesn’t want to jinx it but the shift has been relatively not busy so far, however he feels the anxiety of a call gone wrong layered on top of a sense of dread that something will actually go wrong.

His eyes hover over Eddie sitting across from him, book in hand, seemingly immersed in what he’s reading. He tries to pull comfort just from seeing him, knowing that he’s okay, but images of Eddie on asphalt surrounded by a pool of his own blood flash behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he tries to pull his attention somewhere else and lands on Bobby at the sink, not paying attention to the glasses he’s washing, instead choosing to look over at Hen and Chimney who are laughing at something Buck couldn’t hear over the sound of his racing heart. All he can focus on is the knife Bobby is so carelessly washing off and what if it slips and hits something serious? What if something can go so horribly wrong just from washing dishes? It’s not the first time something’s happened like that. He can’t lose Bobby because of a simple slip of a knife he was washing. He can’t lose him at all–

He’s pulled out of his spiral by a sting of pain. He looks down at his hands to see his cuticles practically torn to shreds. His anxiety has never made him pick at them as much as it has right then and he’s on medication so obviously the problem was him, he’s not fixable. The anxiety is all he is. The medication isn’t helping. This really was just a perpetual punishment for not being able to save his brother. He’s always going to–

Buck stands abruptly, catching the attention of his team. The only excuse he can think of to not worry them is gotta pee, brb.

He’s too focused on getting somewhere safe he doesn’t have time to cringe at the lame excuse.

The second he’s down the stairs, he stops. He can’t go into the bunk room knowing Harmer is still in there, taking a nap before he loses the opportunity to. He thinks maybe the back of the engine, but someone would hear that door shut and realize he was lying. The only option he found was Bobby’s office.

The second the door is shut, Buck’s body seems to give out from under him and slumps down the side of Bobby’s desk and is powerless to the panic that takes over him.

By the time he’s not actively having a panic attack, he has no idea how much time had actually passed while he was curled in on himself. What he does know is that he feels completely spent and devastated that there was no fixing him. He was broken, cursed to a life full of sometimes debilitating anxiety.

The sob that leaves his throat is completely involuntary and he can’t seem to stop it. He tries to keep his cries quiet so as to not bring attention to Bobby’s office, but little did he know there was already someone right outside.

“Buck?”

He freezes at the concerned voice of his Captain. He can’t find it in himself to find a response so he says nothing at all.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Bobby’s voice is closer now and when Buck looks up, their eyes meet and all Buck can do is shake his head as more tears gather in his eyes.

“I’m not fixable.”

“What are you talking about?” The concern is radiating off of him.

He feels guilty, extremely guilty, for making Bobby feel like this, so much like when he told Chimney all of those weeks ago, he spills his guts.

He’s surprised to find out he feels a little lighter than he felt before and he lets himself accept the comfort of his Captain.

“You’re not broken, kid. We’ll figure it out.”

For the first time, he starts to believe maybe he wasn’t broken.

—

Bobby was a godsend when it came to his anxiety after that.

That morning, after they were done shift, Buck followed Bobby back to his and they came up with a plan and he was filled with hope for the first when it came to his anxiety.

Bobby convinced him to give the medication a little more time to even out before he gives up on it. He’d continue taking it and whenever his anxiety got to be too much, he’d text Bobby or let him know and they would work through it together.

The plan was really utilized the first couple of weeks after he continued his medication. So much so that Eddie started to ask questions. He can only assume that the only reason Chimney and Hen weren’t asking questions was because they already figured out what was going on.

The only answer Eddie ever got from both Buck and Bobby was that there was something Bobby was helping him. Though Bobby tried to convince Buck to confide in him as well, the fact that Bobby even knew was mortifying enough.

Eventually, the meds started to work and he started to level out and things were easier from there on out. Of course, the anxiety still got the best of him after high intensity moments. It was especially bad after Eddie had been shot, released, and recovered. He was still constantly anxious whenever it came to Eddie, but he’s aware that it would have been a lot worse if he wasn’t on them.

The grounding techniques his therapist and Bobby taught him gave him the knowledge on how to help Eddie with his. Even seeing someone else having a panic attack was enough to make him anxious, especially Eddie, but he was able to keep himself calm and help Eddie with his own.

Everything eventually settled down with Maddie and Chimney back in Los Angeles, and Eddie back at work. He often found himself calm and collected more times than not, and that’s enough for him to let himself get comfortable again.

Maybe he let himself get too comfortable.

First Bobby doesn’t consider him for interim captain, and then Len dies in front of him in the middle of telling him the secret to happiness, and then something that should make him feel good like helping someone out to have the one thing they want more than anything only makes him spiral more. He says yes, but then everything in the universe makes it seem like it’s giving him a sign not to do it. He finally makes it but now everyone knows, not just Hen. Bobby finds Wendell, and seeing someone he finds strength in so disconnected makes something hurt in his chest. Kameron and Connor are pregnant and he feels happy for them, he really does but there’s something there that Buck can’t seem to shake.

And then his parents come. Albert brings Chimney’s dad and step mom.

It all starts to feel a little too much to deal with.

He distracts himself by cooking and tries to get Bobby out of his head as well by asking him for advice on what he was missing. It makes Bobby laugh which makes him feel a little bit better.

The anxiety gets a little too much during dinner at Maddie’s when everyone starts fighting about him. It’s at this moment that he realizes with everything going on, the fact that he had to refill his prescription two days prior slipped his mind. He’d taken his last pill three days ago and completely forgot to call in a refill.

He slips out when Maddie comes in with Jee and goes through a grounding exercise. He thinks about calling Bobby but the exercise itself is enough to calm him down enough to reassure himself that it’s okay that he forgot, he’ll just call it in the next day and pick it up before work.

Except that doesn’t happen. He oversleeps and he rushes to work and man, someone must have said the Q word because they barely had a break. By the time he has any time at all to call in the refill, the pharmacy is already closed.

Then they’re called to an apartment fire. Everything feels okay. No sense of dread. Chimney and him start up banter and then he’s up the ladder. Everything is fine.

And then he dies.

For three minutes, apparently. He wakes up in a world that is so much like the one always wanted growing up. Until it isn’t anymore.

Maddie’s with Doug. Bobby is dead.

He doesn’t want to be stuck there any longer.

When he comes to, all he feels is relief to see his sister. His parents are standing over him next to his doctor crying, but all he can focus on is Maddie.

And then he sees Bobby alive and well. That’s enough to calm his racing heart for the moment and everything feels okay.

Until he’s home. His parents went back to Pennsylvania, not before buying him the most uncomfortable couch in existence. He’s carted to doctor appointments after doctor appointments, test after test, and still has no answer on if he’s medically cleared to go back to work. He feels dread about going back to work.

While he appreciates Maddie and everyone’s visits, he’s starting to go a little crazy.

He caves after Sudoku and heads over to Eddie’s.

Eddie’s place is always peaceful. It feels more like home than his own loft.

“Hey!”

Buck steps in as Eddie moves aside to let him. “Please don’t ask me how I am.”

“Kay.” He breathed, amused. “Want a beer?”

“Ah, probably more than one.”

Eddie chuckles, walking away as Buck gets himself comfortable and closes his eyes. “Guess all that company wore ya out.”

And that’s the last thing Buck hears before the exhaustion takes over.

When his eyes flutter open, he notices he’s at Eddie’s house and it’s night time. That’s enough to ground him and make him realize that this was real life, that he wasn’t back in that reality.

There’s something about the way he’s feeling that makes him feel particularly fragile though.

So fragile he almost breaks when Eddie finally asks him how he is.

When Eddie reminds him that he died, and that he’s going to feel a lot of different ways about it, it’s said in a way of comfort but the dread that comes back through his entire system seems to have the opposite effect.

“I found the best way to process it is to allow yourself to feel it.”

“But you, uh, you do eventually right? You process it.” He hopes he’ll get reassurance from his answer.

“Everyday you open your eyes in the morning you feel a little less surprised the world is still there.”

Buck is silent after that. He can’t understand why after all of this reassurance that he would eventually be okay, he can only feel this dread. Something is wrong.

It only hits him as he’s settling back in on the couch, Eddie next to him this time, that Bobby never answered his text from the afternoon.

He texts him again and then settles back as Eddie puts on the TV as a distraction. He’s so grateful for how well Eddie can read him at that moment. Simple, quiet company was what he needed after an entire two days of people coming to constantly check on him.

The distraction worked for a little while, but Buck notices that Bobby still hasn’t texted him back.

Hey Bobby, how are you?

Delivered.

Surprised you weren’t involved in Operation Drive Buck up a wall with visits. Haha

Delivered.

Hey Bobby, haven’t heard from you today. Is everything okay?

Delivered.

Fear floods Buck’s entire body as he begins to spiral about why Bobby wasn’t answering. He was positive he wasn’t back in that coma dream because he was at Eddie’s and it was night time but his mind couldn’t help but spiral there anyway.

Is he back? Is Bobby actually dead and he’s not actually at Eddie’s and it’s all just some weird elaborate dream inside of a dream? Is he out of the coma dream and there is actually something wrong with Bobby? What if the people that killed Wendell killed him, too? His call went straight to voicemail. He’s dead. Bobby’s dead in this life now, too. Why isn’t he texting him back? He always texts him back. Athena hasn’t answered either. What if they’re both dead? He can’t do this without Bobby. He’s panicking right now and Bobby isn’t alive to help him through it this time. Bobby—

“Buck!”

His eyes snap open to find Eddie sitting in front of him on the table and feels a hand on his. He can’t breathe again. His body is shutting down. Did he run out of time? He was stuck in this hell forever. He ran out of time.

“Buck, just keep your eyes on me. It’s okay, I promise, everything is okay.”

“Bobby–”

“Is okay. I’m not so sure about you right now though, so just try to breathe through it with me.”

“No, no, he died. He was dead. He isn’t answering me like he usually does. Something’s wrong.”

Buck felt like he was dying. He’s not so sure that he isn’t. It’s like he’s back there.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay. Hey, Buck, what’s your favorite flavor of Jell-O?”

Through everything, that makes Buck pause. What?

“What are– what are you–”

Dear God, this was the worst panic attack he’s had in a while. Why the fuck is he asking about–

“St–strawberry.” He chokes out.

“Okay, okay, good choice. Buck, I want you to close your eyes for me again, okay? Can you do that?” He shuts his eyes. He’ll do anything to stop this feeling. “I want you to think about your feet, okay, and feel them turn into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

His eyes snap open. “Eddie–”

“Just trust me. Can you do that?”

He nods and closes his eyes again. Trusting Eddie was as easy as breathing…ya know, when he’s not having a massive panic attack.

“Think about your feet turning into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

So he does. He doesn’t understand but he does. “You feel that?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out.

“Good, good. You’re doing so good for me, Buck. Now let that Jell-O go up your calves… now up to your thighs, up to your pelvis, and stomach.”

Buck can feel him lighten the grip he didn’t even know he had on Eddie’s shirt. Breathing starts to get easier.

“Your whole body is turning into squishy, bouncy Jell-O.”

Buck huffs out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds but thanks God that it’s working.

“Now let it run to your chest, your arms, your head…”

He takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. He’s smiling softly at him, pride in his eyes along with relief.

“You are one giant Buck Jell-O mold.”

That has Buck’s entire body relaxing, body collapsing forward into Eddie’s chest and keeps breathing.

It’s quiet for a little bit until Buck’s phone buzzes on the table next to Eddie. His head shoots up and grabs his phone with enough speed and force to almost knock Eddie off the table.

Bobby

Sorry I missed your texts, kid. It’s been a crazy day. How about I stop by with breakfast in the morning if you’re feeling up to it.

Buck lets out another cry at the sight of Bobby’s message. He ignores the look on Eddie’s face that means they’re going to talk about what just happened and focuses on texting Bobby back.

You know I’m always up for your cooking, Cap. Glad you’re okay :)

After he puts his phone down, he looks back up at Eddie and sighs. “Guess you wanna know what that was all about, huh?”

“I’ll admit I’m concerned but I’m not gonna make you talk if you’re not ready. That was a pretty bad panic attack, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Buck huffs. “Yeah, probably one of worst ones I’ve had since–”

Oh.

“Since?”

He never refilled his prescription.

“Since Bobby convinced me to stay on the medication they gave me for my anxiety.”

The anxiety he tried like crazy to hide from Eddie.

“Oh.” Eddie doesn’t seem surprised. “Can I ask what caused it this time?”

His voice is so soft and understanding that Buck can’t hide what happened in his coma dream any longer.

“Bobby was dead in my coma dream.” He starts to pick at his cuticles as anxiety starts to flood his system once more. Eddie doesn’t allow that to continue though, taking both of his hands in his and rubbing circles into the tops of his hands. “I have to text him every time I wake up so that I know I’m still here and not in the reality where he’s not alive.”

He hates that he can start to feel himself start to panic again. He feels like if he’d remembered to refill his medication that it wouldn’t be this bad. So, so stupid.

“You’re not stupid. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, anyone could forget to refill a prescription with everything that’s happened to you.” He needs to stop spiraling out loud and not realizing it.

“The psychiatrist warned me to not go off of these cold turkey. Said something like this could happen if it did.”

He bows his head in shame for the tears that well up in his eyes once again. God, he’s a mess.

“Not a mess.” Eddie states. Shit. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get some real rest in a real bed and then in the morning, we’ll go to the pharmacy and get a refill of your meds.”

“What if I have to start all over again, Eddie? It took me nearly a month to stop having panic attacks because of how anxious they made me at first. I can’t do this again, I can’t.”

The grip on Buck’s hand tightened just the slightest and brought him back from another spiral.

“Then we’ll deal with it together. I told you, I’ve got your back. It’s going to be okay.”

And all Buck can do is trust that it would be okay.

Eddie has his back. Bobby is okay.

He will be okay.