#or the anxiety will take hold and Ill cry

[exxistential-nightmare]

Sometimes the mentally ill experience is chewing the inside of your mouth to get enough saliva to swalow your tablets

[florida3exclamationpoints]

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 38: Shattered

Summary: Things aren't okay. They never will be again.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,743 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, medical stuff, injuries, brief description of a possible death, language, mention of weight loss due to medical stuff, emotionally heavy chapter (again), slightly graphic imagery, illness, so much crying

A/N: I just want to make something very clear here since there's a scene in this chapter that might be interpreted this way, but 'mega is NOT suicidal. That's not something that's going to be in this fic, and neither is self-harm. It would have been well warned in advance if that was going to be something coming up in this fic. She's struggling a lot, but she's not suicidal, she's not going to become suicidal, nor will she self-harm even off screen. So don't worry. That's not what's happening. It won't be happening.

Okay, just wanted to make that clear. Enjoy the suffering!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

The scream slices through the silence seconds before chaos erupts. 

John is on his feet and out the door before Kyle is even fully awake. Simon is on his heels down the stairs, the two of them nearly colliding in their rush. His heart thuds in his chest as he sees your door open, the overhead light on. It’s bad. It must be bad if the overhead light is on. You hate the overhead light. 

He barrels in like a bull, ready to fight. The screaming has stopped, but it still rings in his ears. The fear, the panic. Something has happened. Someone got in. He should have made you take the room upstairs. He should have put a barrier between you and the door. That window. Someone could break that easily and grab you before they even noticed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

The screaming has stopped, but gut-wrenching sobs have taken its place. He takes a moment to scan the room. Nothing is misplaced. The window isn’t broken, there’s no bodies, no one that shouldn’t be in there. 

“You’re okay.” Christine soothes you as you sob. “It was just a nightmare.” 

The bright fluorescent overhead light burns his eyes as he stands there, staring at the bed. Christine is right there, having beaten them across the living room, or perhaps she had already been in there, having heard you in your distress before they could. You're tucked in her arms, your face against her shoulder as she holds you. 

Nightmare. 

The safety and security the cottage promised has faded, leaving you at the mercy of the horrors your mind can conjure up in your sleep. Something twists deep in John’s stomach as he turns, motioning for the others to back up and give you some space. You won’t want them there, and things will only get worse if you notice them. 

His heart is still thudding in his chest as he stands there, the sharp sound of your scream still ringing in his ears despite his confirmation of your safety. The other three look just as startled as he feels, standing there tensely in the dark living room. He brings himself to move, turning his back on them for a moment to try and gather his thoughts as he flips on the lamp in the corner. It casts a warm light across the living room, far too warm for how he’s feeling. He’s trying not to panic, trying not to be sick on the floor from the worry. His heart is in his throat, trying to choke him. He’s trying so hard to be strong, not just for him, but for his pack, for you. 

He sinks down on one of the couches, rubbing a hand over his face. He had been so sure something had happened, that their safe little bubble had been breached and someone knew about their whereabouts. He had been so sure someone was trying to hurt you with a scream like that. 

Maybe someone was, but not in reality. 

What is it you dream about now? Your nightmares about your father and your traumatic presentation must seem like nothing now compared to what must haunt your mind. Do you dream of Graves and his torture? Do you dream of them leaving you behind? Do you dream of dying because of their failures? 

A hand settles on his shoulder, a body sinking onto the couch next to him. Arms are wrapping around him, easing him against a solid chest. 

He’s crying. 

He didn’t even realize the tears had started flowing. 

He can hear the reverberating voice in his head, yelling at him, telling him not to show such weakness in front of his pack, in front of his team. He’s supposed to be the strong one, he’s supposed to be the stable one keeping the pack afloat and steady. Yet here he is, breaking down in front of them. 

“It’s okay.” 

Kyle. 

His sweet Kyle. 

How he’s been neglecting his sweet beta, and yet, how willing Kyle still is to reach out and comfort him in such a time of visible distress. That’s what betas are supposed to do. Mediate and balance the emotions of the pack. How have they been coping with all of this? How have Kyle and Johnny been managing in such a time of disarray and upheaval? Have they been managing it? He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t even know the state of his pack, of the members of his team. 

What a failure he is. 

He lets himself lean against Kyle, something filling his chest as Kyle’s soft scent seeps into his senses. He’s projecting it, not just for John but also for the whole room. Johnny is crying too, soft sobs tearing from his chest as he sits on the other couch. Simon is on his knees in front of him, trying to get him calmed and breathing. 

They’ve been ignoring and denying each other for days, fraying the bonds further while trying so hard not to. The pain they’ve been causing in their emotional constipation and intentional neglect is almost worse than the pain caused by their infighting. At least fighting they were feeling something. At least fighting they weren’t cutting each other off so willingly. 

“We can’t do this anymore.” He says, his voice thick and shaky from his tears. “Cutting each other off. It’s not helping anything.” He doesn’t move from where he’s tucked against Kyle’s chest, letting the comfort wash over him for the first time in a week and a half. 

How he’s missed this. 

“It’s not doing any good for any of us.” Simon says, shifting onto the couch next to Johnny. 

“Especially not our omega.” Kyle says, voicing the thought flashing through all of their minds. 

“We may not be able to do much to help her right now, but we can focus on each other. That is something we can do.” John swallows thickly, his alpha starting to come back to life, his instincts aware again as he stares at Johnny and Simon. “Doing nothing isn’t good for any of us. We need to have something to focus on, something tangible we can do. Denying each other comfort isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I full-heartedly agree.” 

John whips around, Christine standing in front of your closed door. He hadn’t even noticed her enter the room, hadn’t sensed her standing behind them. Johnny and Simon are the only two that don’t look startled, but they must have seen her come out from their position facing your door. 

“Sorry.” The corner of her lip twitches up in a smirk. “Thought you would have noticed.” 

John clears his throat. “How is she?” 

“Settled again.” Christine says, moving over to the chair. 

“How long has she been having nightmares?” Kyle asks. 

“Since that first day in the med center in Dallas.” She says, sinking into the chair. How heavy this must all be on her shoulders. “I’d almost call them more sleep hallucinations. Mostly of Graves. Seeing him in the room, being attacked by him.” 

“Is there anything that can be done to help?” John asks. 

“For these kinds of nightmares? Not really.” Christine folds her hands in her lap. “Her brain is trying to process what happened. Until she feels safe enough to truly begin working on processing the trauma, it’s likely the nightmares will continue.” 

“Is there anything we can do to help her feel safe?” Kyle says. 

Christine’s lips purse as she looks between the four of them. “I’m not sure any of you could do anything right now directly, at least. She’s not open to that yet. Working on your bonds with each other, though, could help her omega finally settle and allow her emotions to even out again. That can help her feel safer, remove that instability and the fear of losing control again.” 

All of them share looks, John and Simon staring at one another. They hadn’t even thought about that. Well, at least he hadn’t. Christine had told him months ago that omegas need their alpha when they distress, when their omega takes over. They can come back from it with the help of an alpha...their alpha. Without one, the chances of survival were slim. Yet here you are, trying to do it all on your own. Having to do it all on your own. 

That ache in his chest starts again as he stares at Simon. He sent Simon after you, he made Simon go through that process of seeing you in that state and scruffing you. He made Simon be the one to help you through that. He made Simon be there when you needed an alpha most because he couldn’t face the fact that he abandoned you, he left you behind like you were nothing but another faceless soldier. 

He wipes his face as the tears start falling again. He truly is a failure of an alpha. 

Despite Christine’s reassurances, John can’t help the automatic reaction to your screams. On his feet instantly, his heart pounding in his chest ready to fight bare handed whatever might be causing such a reaction. Whoever might be causing such a reaction. He can’t fight the demons in your head, though, and he’s always greeted by the sight of Christine by your side, comforting you as best she can. 

He wants to hate her, wants to be angry at her for taking his place, doing what he should be doing. His alpha scratches at his mind every time he sees her by your side, giving you comforts he should be giving, but it’s his fault. It’s his fault she’s the one there with you. It’s his fault you’re suffering so much. Those thoughts send his alpha crawling back into its cage with its tail between its legs. 

It doesn’t matter the time of day, whether it was a nap or the middle of the night, your screams have a pain throbbing deep in his chest. His heart is constantly racing, waiting for that rush of adrenaline at the sound of your terrified scream, at that rush of instinct to protect and fight. He’s not sure how much his heart can take. 

He might have a heart attack by the end of their stay at the cottage. 

That’s something he’s been trying not to think about. 

They can’t stay here forever, no matter how much he knows you’ll want to, how much the others will want to. Eventually they’ll begin to go stir-crazy, itching for something to do. They still have jobs, and Kate can only keep them off the radar for so long, and can only give so many excuses. Eventually they’ll have to go back. Eventually they’ll have to make that decision of what comes next. 

He’s going to delay that as much as he possibly can. 

They can’t go back while Shepherd is still out there. They can’t trust that anywhere is safe while he’s still skulking around, while he still has contacts that could put them all in danger. That could put you in danger. 

That’s not a risk he’s willing to take again. 

But what comes next? 

What will they decide to do? Can they go back, knowing what the inevitable will be? Can they take that risk of having to leave you again, put you through that constant fear and worry that they might not come back? What if they all leave again? Could you survive the fear that something might happen while they’re away again? Not to them, but to you? 

Could they leave you alone again? 

Those are thoughts for another day when they’re inevitably faced with the fact they have to return to society and their lives and jobs. 

They have time. 

He has to make sure you’re okay first. 

You’re not okay.

You’re so very far from okay. 

The bedside lamp is on, casting a golden glow around the room. 

There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. 

It’s one of the rare times you’ve woken before you can react, before you can scream and alert everyone in the house that you’ve had a nightmare. They’ll all come running. All of them. 

You hate it. 

You hate the nightmares, you hate the fear, you hate the constant pain and worry and the constant knowledge that your pack is right there. They want to go back to how things were, they want things to go back to normal, but they can’t. They expect you to forgive them, to go back to loving them, but how can you after everything? 

They left you. 

They let this happen to you and they just want you to pretend like nothing happened. That’s what they would do. Go back to normal life after being tortured and forget it all happened because that’s what they do. 

You’re not them. 

You don’t want to be like them. 

Cold. Heartless. Uncaring. Unwilling to put anyone but themselves first. 

Fuck them. 

The only thing keeping you here is the fact you’re bonded to them. That, and you’re an omega. You’d get picked up off the street and brought right back here to your owner. Or, worse, you’d get picked up by someone looking for a cute little omega to add to their collection. 

Or worse. 

You’d get picked up by someone else. 

Graves. Shepherd. 

If you’re lucky, they’d kill you instantly. Leave your body on the front porch for the others to find. You won’t care anymore. You’ll be dead. 

You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks, wiggling yourself back until you’re leaning against the headboard. Your shoulder doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore. It still throbs, still aches, still occasionally almost puts you on the floor when you try to reach over your head with it. Your throat is healing too. Soup isn’t quite as horrible as it was a few days ago. Solid food makes you ache, but at least you can get it down without feeling like you’re swallowing glass. 

You still haven’t spoken to them, though. 

You can hardly stand to look at them. 

Fuck them. 

Just the thought of them makes you want to scream. 

Dr. Keller says it's normal, being angry. ‘It’s all part of the process.’ The anger, the fear, the pain, the depression. It’s all normal. It’s all part of the process. It’s all necessary. You won’t get better holding it all in. You won’t get better numbing yourself. You won’t get better if you don’t allow yourself to feel everything. 

You hate it. 

Why should you have to go through all these feelings, all this pain? Why should you be the one suffering because of their decisions? It’s not fair. They should be suffering. They should be in pain. They should be the ones on the brink of insanity because of the fear and the pain and the suffering and their omega constantly screaming at them. 

It makes you want to scream. 

Screaming will only draw them in, force them closer. Screaming will alert them all, make them all come running. You don’t want any of them near. You don’t want to have to see them again. 

Fuck them. 

You let out a huff before wiggling back down the bed until your head hits the pillow. You won’t go back to sleep. You never do. At least you have the pain and exhaustion and tumultuous emotions and your very nature to excuse your constant naps, constant sleeping during the day. They don’t need to know you’re not sleeping at night. They won’t care. They don’t care. None of them do. 

Fuck. Them. 

You want your phone, you want something to keep you occupied. It’s probably lying somewhere on the side of the road shattered beyond repair. That, or it’s back in the barracks. The barracks. Fuck that place. You’ll rip your hair out strand by strand if you have to go back there. It’s not safe, it’s not happy. There’s nothing good about that place anymore. 

It’s just a place of pain. You might as well have been tortured by Phil there. 

You were tortured there. 

It wasn’t a physical torture, but a mental one. The entire experiment was just torture for you. No one thought of you, no one cared about you. 

Dr. Keller cares. 

It’s her job to care. 

Still, you can’t hate her entirely. She’s the only one that understands. She’s the only one that can help. She’s the only one that’s been helping. Not just now, but back then. She cared, she fought for you, she did her best with what she had. Sure, she made mistakes, but so did you. She’s the only one you can forgive. 

She’s the only one you want to forgive. 

Fuck the others. Fuck your pack. Fuck those fucking soldiers who were never going to care about anyone but themselves, who were never going to care about anything but their jobs and their duties and the good of the world. 

You should have been their world. 

They couldn’t put you first. They wouldn’t put you first. They didn’t want to put you first. 

They won’t change. They can’t change. There’s no hope for change. 

You’ll just go back to the way things were before and be forced to pretend everything's okay and that you’re happy and fine and content. Were you ever really content or were you just trying to make the best of the situation? Were you deluding yourself into believing you loved them and cared about them and that they loved you and cared about you to numb the fact you knew deep down that they never would, that they never could. Were you deluding yourself into thinking everything was fine and dandy to hide the constant pain from the knowledge that you would never come first? 

The pain begins to burn in your chest again. It’s hot like acid, rising in your chest to your throat, threatening to choke you. It’s a deep pain, one nestled right in against your soul. Tears leak out of your eyes again as you squeeze them shut, pushing your right hand against your chest in an attempt to get it to pass. 

You thought you were dying the first time. 

You could only be so lucky. 

The bond. 

It’s trying to break, trying to sever itself, trying to free you from the constant pain, but it can’t. 

Maybe because deep down you don’t want it to. Maybe deep down you want to forgive them and move past all of this. Maybe you want things to go back to normal, even if normal means pain and distress and fear. Maybe you want to believe them that they’re finally going to put you first. 

‘Maybe’ is only a doorway to disappointment and pain. 

Fuck yourself. 

Fuck your omega. 

Fuck your pack. 

Hell, fuck Dr. Keller for not fighting harder, for not doing more. 

Fuck Graves and his haunting of your nightmares.

Fuck Kate for choosing you.

Fuck Shepherd for creating the initiative in the first place to try and cover his own ass. 

Fuck them all. 

You tug the blanket higher around yourself, rolling onto your right side. 

Fuck. Them. All. 

You don’t want him here. 

He does it now, usually in the mornings. 

You hate it. 

You like it. It’s nice. He’s the only one making an effort. 

He never says anything, surprisingly enough. It’s silent as he sits there, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Always coffee, never tea. He won’t sink that low. He brings you a cup, but you can never bring yourself to touch it. You feel like a mental patient stuck in a straight jacket. You could free yourself, but that would bring too much awareness, too many questions, too much pain. 

You don’t want to. 

So instead you sit there in silence, staring out at the sea. It’s so far away still, yet it’s right there. You can hear it and smell it and see it. 

The sea. 

They brought you to the sea. 

John remembered. He did it for you. 

The thought has something stirring in your chest, and it’s not pain or anger. 

You hate it. 

Johnny leans back in the chair, his eyes on the horizon like yours. He sits there in that chair every chance he gets, usually in the mornings when Dr. Keller takes time for herself and leaves one of them watching you through the sliding glass door. You do feel guilty for forcing so much on Dr. Keller’s shoulders, yet you need her. 

You’re not ready for the others yet, no matter how loudly your omega screams at you. 

You don’t want them. 

Fuck, you desperately need them. 

Your eyelids flutter frantically as you try to keep the tears at bay. You can’t cry. You can’t let him know how close you are to breaking down. You can’t. 

You can’t reach out. 

You can’t take his hand. 

How desperately you want to. 

You nearly breathe a sigh of relief when the sliding door opens, Dr. Keller’s soft footsteps crossing the wood planks of the porch. 

“Ready to go inside now?” She asks, pressing the back of her hand against your cheek. You don’t say anything, don’t react, frozen in fear of everything coming tumbling out in front of Johnny. “You’re getting cold.” 

Johnny glances your way and you immediately turn to look at Dr. Keller, scared to look him in the face. That desperate hold you have on the gaping wound in your abdomen will open and your guts will come spilling out like some gory scene in a horror movie. 

Disembowelment thanks to your own weakness. 

Dr. Keller holds the crutch out for you as you push yourself to stand. Your legs are strong enough you could probably walk without it, but it’s still nice to have it in case you get tired. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

It’s the weakness from your liquid diet over the past week and a half. The weakness of being unable to eat solid foods, to properly nourish. You’ve lost weight, your clothes hanging from your body in a way they never did before. You’ve lost the softness that marks you as an omega, but it feels fitting. You don’t feel like an omega anymore. 

You don’t feel like anything anymore. 

You’re fighting your instincts out of pain and suffering and stubbornness. You keep taping your omega’s mouth shut despite how loudly she screams at you. You don’t want your instincts. You don’t want that need. Eventually it has to go away. Eventually it has to recede and your omega has to go back into her cage and sleep. Eventually you can numb yourself to it and force it away forever. 

That will certainly make things easier. 

But will it make things better? 

No. Probably not. 

It’ll make things worse. 

But if it allows you to keep your distance, allows you to avoid them, you’ll risk it. You’d take numbness over anything right now. 

How you miss those long days of depression while they were away. How you took those days for granted. 

Who knew those hours spent worrying about them and their distance and what might happen to them would be for nothing? 

What you wouldn’t give for all of them to disappear right now. 

How badly it would destroy you. 

“She’s at war with herself. That instinctual need is screaming at her, but that emotional pain is keeping her shut away. If anyone is going to get through to her, it will probably be you.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his jaw as he stares at Christine. As much as he wants to hate the doctor and her ability to see straight through him, he can’t deny how necessary her presence has been. She’s the only one you tolerate, the only one you’ll let close. Without her you’d probably be rotting in bed, stuck and unable to do anything out of stubbornness. You won’t let them close, yet you need them close. 

You’re going to rip yourself in half, metaphorically and possibly even literally. 

He shakes that mental image from his mind. The horrifying images his mind has conjured up over the last few days have his stomach churning. Even his tea no longer looks appetizing. 

He put milk in it this time. Almost how he likes it. Almost how he wants it. 

“Johnny’s the one actually trying.” Simon says, staring across at her. She doesn’t shy from his gaze, doesn't even flinch. “You should talk to him.” 

“While I agree, reintroducing a beta from the pack is the first step, eventually she’s going to need an alpha.” Christine says. 

“She needs her alpha.” He argues. 

“She doesn’t want her alpha.” Christine counters. “He’s going to be the last she lets close, but she’s going to need some kind of stability.” 

“I can’t give her that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his hand around his mug, his knuckles going white. She’s infuriating, yet he can’t be mad at her. Not completely. The good she’s doing for you, for the pack, far outweighs his annoyance with the doctor. She’s right. He knows it deep down, but he can’t. He can’t do that, he can’t put you through that. He’s already done enough. He did his part, he faced his fears, he saved your life. That’s enough for him. It’s up to John now. 

John has to do the work to fix it. He broke it, it’s no one else’s job to fix it. 

“Maybe both.” Simon finally says, pushing himself up to stand. “It’s not my job to fix this.” 

He leaves his mug behind as he stalks out of the kitchen, heading for the front door. He can’t stand being in the house any longer, cooped up with the same five people. Four people and a ghost. 

He shakes his head, jogging down the steps into the gravel. He should go for a jog. A long jog. He could jog to town and back. That will clear his head. 

That’s a long jog.

If something happens while he’s away, he won’t get back in time. It’ll be his fault because he took the time to do something selfish. He can picture it, coming back to find five bodies laying in pools of blood, dead because he wasn’t there to help, because he wasn’t there to fight. 

It’s a ridiculous thought. There’s three other highly trained soldiers in the house. If anyone tried anything, they wouldn’t make it past the door. He can see it now, Price’s alpha coming out in a rage because someone dared try to enter and hurt his vulnerable omega. He’d probably win in a fight ten to one if that happened, and he has Kyle and Johnny to back him up. Christine would take you and run the first chance she could. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not again. 

Still, he can’t shake that fear. If he can’t sprint back, then it's too far. If it will leave the pack too vulnerable, he can’t. 

To the beach and back, then. 

She’s like an angel. 

The soft sunlight streaming through the clouds makes her glow. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sun was shining just for her, sending down a beam just to illuminate just how ethereal she is. 

The Garrick beauty is genetic. 

Kyle is beautiful in terms of a man. He shares the same ethereal glow as his sister, but Ashley? You don’t feel worthy of looking upon her. 

“Kyle never mentioned an omega, but then again, he never says much about his job.” She gives another dazzling smile, your heart rate picking up just slightly. “Can’t, I should say. You haven’t been with them long, huh.” 

“About nine months.” You say, your voice still a bit hoarse. It’s not quite healed yet. It might be that way forever. 

“Such a short amount of time to go through so much.” She says, giving you a soft, sympathetic look. You don’t know how much she knows, though it’s still fairly obvious you’ve been through hell. That you’re still going through hell. “Christine told me a bit about what happened. I don’t blame you one bit for being upset at them. I would have left them, but I know. In a perfect world, right?” 

You make a quiet sound. Indeed in a perfect world where omegas have rights and can make their own decisions and could leave and have support in doing so. You’d leave with Dr. Keller or even Ashley, even though you’ve only known her for ten minutes. She has the same magnetic energy as Kyle, so much so you don’t mind the way the scent blockers burn your nose. She probably smells like something warm and soft, something comforting. 

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” She says, settling in the chair. It’s cool outside, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it one bit. 

You scramble for something, anything. What is it you like to do? What are your hobbies? You’re drawing a blank, your mind searching through its filing cabinets to find where you shoved all the things you like to do. 

“I like to read.” You finally say, remembering the stack of untouched books on the dresser across from the bed. 

“Oh? What do you like to read?” She asks. 

What do you like to read? What is a genre? What are books? 

“Oh, I read anything, as long as it’s interesting.” Is that the truth? You’re not quite sure. 

“I see, I see. Well, there’s quite the collection on those shelves inside. I’m a reader too. Read through those entire shelves over the years.” She grins at you. “We could do a little book club, if you’d like. Read some books and talk about them over some tea. We could get Christine in on it too. Have a little thing just for us girls.” 

You nod, staring at her in awe. This is the first time someone outside of your little circle has offered to do anything with you, for you. 

You want to do it. 

You want to spend time with someone who isn’t your pack, who isn’t Dr. Keller. 

“Okay.” You say, still staring at her in awe. 

“I could come over on the weekends, or we could do a call if you’re not up to seeing anyone.” She continues, and you’re not sure if she made this plan before she came, or if she’s coming up with it on the spot. Regardless, you're still impressed by her and her dedication to a complete stranger. 

“Would...would that be too much?” You ask, your brain starting to wake up again, the wires connecting once more. 

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I live and work in Exeter, so I’m not too terribly far away.” 

You’re not sure where Exeter is off the top of your head. Your mental map isn’t even sure how far away London is...or even where you are on a map of England. Are you even in England right now? 

“What do you do for work?” You ask, realizing you’ve been silent for an awkward amount of time. 

“I’m a finance lawyer.” She says. “Mum used to say ‘you love to argue so much, you should become a lawyer.’” She laughs. “So I did.” 

“You must make a lot of money.” You say. You don’t know how much lawyers make in England relative to the US. 

“I make enough to be comfortable.” She says. Enough to travel back and forth every weekend. “Seriously, though, if you need or want anything, let me know. I’m more than happy to come sit with you and give you a break from those stinky men.” 

You’re not quite sure what happens to your face. It contorts, muscles shaking off the dust and starting to move before you even realize it. Your lips are tilting upwards instead of downwards. Something is happening. Something that feels good, something that you’ve been missing. 

You’re smiling. 

You’re smiling. You haven’t smiled in a long time. Weeks. Not since the cameras. Not since your pack left. You haven’t felt like smiling in so long you’re certain you forgot how to. But yet, here you are, smiling at Ashley. It’s not a genuine smile, one that crinkles your eyes and shows joy, but it’s a smile. It almost hurts your face after so long. 

She’s funny too. 

Stinky men. 

They are that. 

Your smile falls as soon as the sliding glass door opens, your head whipping around to look. Ashley turns to look too, perhaps out of instinct at your sudden movement. 

You’re half expecting it to be one of the guys, maybe Kyle out to ruin the moment, but it’s only Dr. Keller. 

“How are things going?” She asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Good.” Ashley says. “We’re planning a book club.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises a brow, looking between you. “I think that would be fantastic.” 

“You’re welcome to join in if you’d like,” Ashley says, giving Dr. Keller a smile. 

You stare up at Dr. Keller, watching the way her lips turn up a smile, her eyes shining with...something. Her hands open and close, tugging at her pants almost nervously. Your brows raise as you look back up at her face. She almost looks...flustered. 

Oh. 

Another grin forms on your face as you stare between them, Ashley still smiling and Dr. Keller still looking a bit flustered. 

Oh. 

“You could join us if you want.” You say slowly, still looking up at Dr. Keller. 

She seems to snap out of her daze, her gaze darting down to you. She gives you a soft smile, back to her composed, professional self. “If that’s what you’d like.” 

You nod. Even though you see her constantly every day, you’re not tired of her existence yet. She’s the only one whose existence in the house doesn’t make you want to gouge your eyes out, the only one you want to talk to, to see, to have around. If you had the choice, you’d be here alone with her. 

That’s not possible. You know it’s not. 

“A thing for just us girls.” Ashley says. “On the weekends. No pressure whatsoever.” 

“I think that would be fantastic.” Dr. Keller says. “A nice little distraction.” 

“A nice break from those stinky men.” You say. 

Both Dr. Keller and Ashley erupt in laughter. 

Another smile tugs at your lips. 

You don’t want to be here. You can feel him staring at you from behind. He hasn’t moved since Dr. Keller left, still just standing there like he’s not sure he can approach you or not. You hope he doesn’t. You want him to. 

You don’t say anything, still staring out at the ocean, but you can see him reflected in the glass, obscuring your view of the horizon. Hatred burns inside of you as you have no choice but to stare at him, even when you’re trying not to. He’s like a ghost, always haunting you. He always will be. 

“I didn’t want to try to rush into this.” He finally says, knowing you’re not going to say anything. You won’t greet him, welcome him into your space. It already feels like an intrusion into your safety, him being here. 

Is this becoming a safe space? A nest? No, not that far. It’s becoming sacred to you, though, and having him in it without invitation feels wrong. It makes you uncomfortable. 

You hate it. 

“But I just wanted you to know that we’re all feeling the weight of what we did, I’m feeling the weight of what I decided to do. We all feel guilty for putting you through that, for forcing you to endure things you never should have.” 

He swallows thickly, falling silent for a moment. You almost feel like laughing at his attempt at an apology, another attempt at an apology. Why is he even bothering? He knows you won’t forgive him. He’s probably doing it for himself again, to make himself feel better. 

“I know it’s not an ideal situation, being forced in such a small space together, but we all wanted you to know that you’re the one setting the boundaries. If you don’t want us to be somewhere or do something, then you can tell us, or have Christine tell us. If you don’t want to see us at all, we can make our best attempts at that.” 

“That would be ideal.” You say, breaking the silence you’ve held for days. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since the hospital, since his first sad attempt at an apology. 

It shocks him to stillness and silence. 

The words hurt, burning your throat like acid as you stare at his reflection in the glass. You hate it, how pathetic he looks standing there. Where’s the big, tough alpha? Where’s the strong protector? Where’s the person that’s supposed to take care of you and care about you? 

He never existed. 

He left you behind. 

He never cared. 

Anger begins to bubble within you. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice shaking. “I never meant for this to happen-”

“You think your sad attempts at apologies are going to work?” You hiss at him through your teeth. You push yourself to stand, turning to face him. “You left me. You fucking left me there knowing full well what was going to happen!” You’re shouting now. All the quiet movements on the other side of the wall in the main area stop. 

They’re all listening. 

It’s not like you’re giving them much of a choice not to. 

Fuck them.

“I know,” He says, his eyes wide as he stares at you. 

“Do you? Do you know?” Your voice is wavering, your throat starting to ache but you can’t stop. Not now. It’s all coming out and there’s no stopping it. “You. Left. Me. You willingly turned your back on me time and time again even when I was being tortured! You leaving was torture enough and you still chose me second. I’ve always been second. I’ve never mattered enough for you to even question anything!” 

You let out a sob, the sound cracking in your throat. It hurts, but it will always hurt. You’ll always carry this hurt with you, so you want him to hurt too. 

“I asked you once if you would ever leave for me. You said if things got dangerous, if my life were ever at risk because of you, you’d leave in a heartbeat.” The tears are falling, streaming down your face. “Was that a lie?” 

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, staring at you. Does he even remember that conversation? 

“Was that a lie?” You shout, making him jump. 

His eyes drop to the floor, his scent souring. Good, you think. Let it hurt. 

“Answer me.” You say, pushing him to give some response to your question. You need to know. You need him to say it. 

“I didn’t intend for it to be.” He says quietly. 

“You didn’t intend for it to be.” You say, bitterness coating your tone. “What the fuck does that mean? You said you wouldn’t let me go even if the initiative failed. Was that a lie too? Was it all a lie to keep me happy and complacent? ‘The job always comes first,’ even when my life is in danger, right? The job always comes first over everything, even me. You lied to me.” You swallow the sob threatening to come up. “I want to hear you say it.” 

He stands there, tears brimming in his eyes. He hasn’t moved hardly a muscle, still frozen like a statue. 

“Say it!” You scream at him, your throat tearing around the words. You’re surprised you’re not tasting blood yet from how raw it feels. 

“I lied.” He says, swallowing thickly. “I lied to you and I couldn’t keep my promise. And I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t apologize.” You cut him off starting to pace as the anger burns hot in you. “Don’t you fucking apologize to me, you don’t deserve to apologize. You don’t deserve the chance at forgiveness. You’re a shitty alpha and you always have been!” 

You let out a sob, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. There’s a tear sliding down his cheek, and it brings you some sort of relief deep down. So he can feel things after all. 

“I don’t know what I expected, though.” You let out a sardonic laugh. “You military men are all the same. It’s always about the job and the image and the ‘greater good’ and making sacrifices, even if that means sacrificing your pack. You’re just like my dad. You never wanted an omega, you never wanted me. You cast me out and let me suffer when I needed you most.” 

The anger burns hot in you again, shooting through your veins until it’s choking you as you stare at him standing there pathetically. He thought he could apologize, he thought his groveling would mean anything to you. Fuck him. Fuck them all. 

“You left me.” You grit out, your hands starting to shake. “You left me! You abandoned me, you let me get hurt! You didn’t care, you never cared about me!” You storm over to him. “Fuck you!” You scream, hitting his chest. “I fucking hate you!” You shove him back, sending him stumbling. “Get out!” You shove him again, pushing him back towards the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!” 

He stumbles back out of the door and you slam it in his face so hard it shakes on its hinges. You click the lock as you sob in pain, pain both physical and emotional. Your chest aches, a tearing feeling burning through it. 

The bond. 

You don’t care. You don’t give a fuck anymore. You hate him, you hate them all. 

The tears and sobs threaten to choke you but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care about anything anymore except the anger burning hot through you, making your hands shake. Your legs give out and you slide to the floor against the door, sliding until you’re laying down on your back on the hardwood. It’s cold against your skin but you don’t care. You can’t care anymore. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Her hand presses against your forehead, wiping some of the sweat beading on your skin. Despite your shivers, you’re burning hot. A fever. You worked yourself up too much earlier in your outburst. She had been proud of you for finally releasing some of it and showing some emotion, but she knew the consequences of getting so worked up would be high. Your omega is still unstable, on top of still trying to physically recover. You hurt yourself doing that, even if it was necessary. 

She shushes you as you whine, fingers grasping at the blanket clumsily. She pulls it higher over you, your body shuddering underneath the pile already stacked on top of you. She’d put every blanket she could find over you, and yet you still shiver. Worry floods her again as she stares down at you, your eyes pinched closed. You must be aching, your show of anger taking its toll. 

It was necessary, but at what cost? 

If your temperature continues to spike, the risk of distress heightens. You can’t handle distress in your current state, which would mean your omega would come out, finally be freed again from the unprotected cage it's been pushed back into. If your omega comes out, that will require John to help, which may only drive you further into distress. 

She needs to try and stop this before the situation continues to deteriorate. 

But how? 

How can she move you past this without the help of your pack? She can’t give you the comfort you need. Medicine or any therapeutic methods can help solve the issue at its core. Sure she can try and lower your fever with medicine, but you need your pack. You need that comfort and stability that only they can offer. 

You need someone, and it can’t be her. 

If your omega comes back out, they might never be able to get it back in. It’ll be the end of you. All of your recovery, the fight you’ve put up against your body and your instincts and your mind will have been for nothing. 

You need someone. 

An idea begins to form in her head, her hand resting against your forehead. It’s hot under her hand, your skin burning. You might hate her later for this. It’s risky, but sometimes risks have to be taken in dire situations. Sometimes those risks pan out in the end. What will happen if it fails? The inevitable that’s going to happen if she doesn’t try. It’s a lose-lose situation, but if it works, it could be a win-win. 

She can’t help you, but maybe she has someone who can. 

She tucks the blankets around you, cocooning you in an attempt to keep you warm and still while she steps away. She won’t be gone long.  

She leaves your door cracked open just in case, even though she doubts you’ll be moving much while she’s away. 

Just in case. 

One can never be too careful. 

She heads up the stairs quietly, going slow to avoid startling any of them. She’s intruding on the safe space they’ve made in their solitude. It feels like invading sacred grounds, but it's a necessary invasion. Their omega is in danger. They’ll forgive her. 

The bathroom door is closed at the end of the short hallway, a light on inside. The lights are on in both rooms too, glowing beneath both doors, and she takes a gamble. Based on the heaviness of the footsteps above the kitchen she can guess the room on the right is the one Simon and Johnny are staying in. If she’s wrong, she’ll have some explaining to do before she’s ready, and she knows John will have his thoughts about this. Though, with what happened earlier, perhaps he’ll agree. You won’t see him, but maybe...just maybe... 

She lets out a deep breath before knocking firmly, waiting a breath before she calls out.  

“Johnny, I need your help.”

She just hopes you don’t hate her too much later. 

NEXT ->

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[evie-sturns]

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: matt is having an anxiety attack, but chris and nick can't seem to calm him down, so they invite you over.

contains: mouth watering fluff, mentions of a anxiety attack, crying, swearing.

———————————————————————

i'm laying in bed, aimlessly scrolling on my phone as i feel my eyelids grow heavy, i put my phone down next to me as i pull up the blankets, closing my eyes. suddenly my phone lights up, buzzing nonstop.

i groan, picking it up,

its chris?

before i can open my messages chris calls me, i quickly accept it, putting it on speaker. "chris, its late are you okay?" i say into the phone, but i'm cut off by his franic voice

"you have to come over now, matt's having a panic attack, me and nick don't know what to do, you're the only one who can calm him down."

without another word i'm out of bed, grabbing matt’s pug stuffed animal which i recently brought him, pulling on a hoodie over my pyjama set and spraying myself with matts favourite perfume as i grab my keys.

"ill be over in 5 minutes, ill be as fast as i can." i say, worry present in my voice as i hang up.

i rush out my bedroom door, pulling on my uggs as i unlock my front door.

i sprint towards my car, climbing in and instantly pulling out of the driveway. i try to call matt as i drive, but he doesn't awnser. my heart thumps as i turn into the sturniolos street. i park messily before leaping out, running up to the front door.

nick lets me in, he looks distraught, i give him a quick hug before walking down the hallway, approaching matt's room.

his door is locked.

i knock one more time, but again i'm met with no response.

"matt? please let me in sweetheart." i say, keeping my voice calm and low. i hear shuffling in matts room before the door unlocks, i push it open slowly.

im met with matt, his bottom lip quivering, his shoulder slouched and his eyes watering.

my eyebrows raise in a sorry, "oh matt.." i say slowly before walking in, shutting the door behind me as i pull him into a hug, he doesn't really hug back, his arms just hang at his side.

matt and i have been dating for 5 months, he's only had one anxiety attack which i was out of town for, i'd only seen him cry a handful of times, and it was never for long, it was always just a few tears.

"come on, come lay down yeah?" i say softly, sitting down in his bed, my back pressed against his his headboard as i pat the spot next to me, matt flops down, his body shaking ever so slightly, he rests his head on my lap.

a silence grows in the room before its broken with a loud sob from matt. my heart drops. my throat burns as matt starts to cry. "oh baby." i say, reaching my hands into his hair as i start to play with it soothingly.

"please talk to me whenever you feel even a little better okay?" i say, my voice barely audible. his tears paint my pyjama shorts.

"you're doing so well matt. let it out for me."

i lean down, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, which is damp, but it doesn't bother me at all right now.

"im sorry." he says in between shaky cries.

"matt." i say reaching my hands down and hold his body, "dont say sorry, this is the least i can do okay, i love you so much." i say, squeezing his side tighter.

after a few more minutes his sobs become lighter, he takes a deep breath before starting -

"its just everything, i’ve got no privacy left, it’s just so much.. pressure.” he says, his voice shaking with each word.

“i know matt, but so so many people love you, i love you, your family loves you and your friends love you, your fans love you and everything you do, that’s why you’re feeling pressure ‘cause you don’t want to disappoint them, you think?”

i assure him, he sits up slightly, resting on my chest.

matt nods before he sits up fully, moving his body around to face me on the bed, tears present on his face. i reach two hands out, wiping his cheeks with my thumbs before holding both sides of his face.

“i’m so happy to have you matt.” i say, wiping my hands on my sweater. i lean towards him, placing gentle kisses all over his face.

“don’t make me cry again y/n, i don’t deserve anything you do.” matt says, a warm smile spread across his face.

suddenly my face lights up

“oh shit wait!” i say reaching into my pocket, pulling out a small pug stuffed animal, i hold it up proudly “i got you this, it was really reminded me of you when i saw it.”

matt’s jaw drops.

“no way! oh my god.” he says, lunging towards me and tackling me in a hug. he pecks my lips multiple times “thank you so much what!!” he smiles, pure joy spread across his face.

“you’re so cute matt.” i laugh, cuddling him.

-

me and matt both dozed off around an hour ago, but i’m woken up by chris and nicks whispers, they’re both standing in the door, staring at us as matt holds the pug tight, his eyes shut and soft snores leaving his mouth.

“how the fuck did she do that.” i hear chris say

“do what?” nick says, a smile on his face.

“what do you mean ‘do what’, she’s only been here for like 2 hours and she’s turned matt from a emotional wreck to a fucking peaceful sleeper, look he’s even holding a pug toy!”

———————————————————————-

[ncis-nerd]

Breaking Point

older!nat x reader

warnings: anxiety, sleeping problems, mentally exhausted, crying, hints of mental illness?, age difference, petnames, spilled water, arguing, wet clothes, burnout?

grey november au

"And I think we have space in our budget to do such a thing" Tony shrugged. You had another meeting and the earth's mightiest heroes could not agree upon how they wanted to spend the extra money they had.

You sighed softly, waiting for something solid so you could go back to note-taking. Natasha's eyes fell on you, after listening to Tony and Steve's back and forth.

"You okay" She mouthed, seeing your eyes drop. You were so tired, your anxiety had been worse lately and you couldn't sleep. Scratch that, you wanted to sleep but you were so busy with other work.

"I think we should take 5 before we have another situation guys.." Natasha side eyed Steve. "Hey! It wasn't my genius idea to use the metal suits" Steve rolled his eyes at Tony. Tony shrugged and said "sure, I could go for some water. Y/n?" His eyes fell on you.

Silence. "Yeah, can you get some for me and y/n too, please?" Natasha spoke up.

It was just you and Natasha in the room when she came over to you. She bent down, to your level to meet your gaze. "Dove?" Natasha spoke softly, the feeling of concern hinted in her voice.

"talia' m so tired.." you whimpered, raising your teary eyes to meet hers. It hurt her to see you in such distress. "Oh detka.." Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around yours.

"I know you have sleeping problems.. Maybe we can talk to Bruce about that? Get you on sleeping pills?" Natasha spoke carefully, not sure on where you stood about on taking meds.

You nodded; you were open to just about anything because you were reaching to your breaking point. That is if, we weren't there already.

Natasha's fingers found its place in your hair, scratching your scalp softly.

__

Tony and Steve walked back into the room, both men holding 2 overfilled glasses of water. They walked very slow, attempting to not spill any.

You were sitting next to Natasha when they returned, neither men commented on this. Instead, they took their seats. Tony began to speak "Y/N? Remind me, where did we leave off?" Your eyes glanced at the notes on your computer. "Metal suits? The budget, we were brainstorming on what the spend the money on" You spoke softly, Natasha rested her hand on your thigh as a measure to comfort you and let you know she is here.

"Ah yes, the budget! As I was saying, I need some money for spare parts!" Tony exclaimed. Steve butted in "You already have a bunch of suits, how much more could you possibly need? " Steve huffed. As the two continued to argue, you picked up your cup to take a sip of water. Unfortunately it was filled to the max and you ended up spilling it all over you.

This caught the attention of Steve and Tony, distracting them from their argument. "I-" You stuttered. "And this concludes the end of the meeting. Steve, Tony, lets maybe not spend the whole meeting arguing next time?" Natasha jumped in, dismissing the tow men.

Steve and Tony left the conference room first. Before you could tear up, Natasha took your hand and let you to her room. "I think you need a warm, smoothing bath, babe. You need to relax, I'll run the bath and prep everything. Is that okay, dove?" Natasha spoke softly, her eyes meeting yours. You nodded.

taglist: @ssa-shaylam @madamevirgo @radcherryblossompainter @midastouch013 @dumbasslesbi @krystallevine @ellieromanov @fxckmiup @viosblog112-

part 2?

[remlionheart]

hiii !! may seem a bit basic, but chuuya picks up reader after a stressful day at work with his motorcycle fluff and smut 👾.

thank you, u're the best !!

୨ৎ❀ hey, there’s nothing wrong with simple! i appreciate you sending me a suggestion ♡ it's been awhile since we've visited my fave ill-tempered redhead anyway and he deserves all the attention ୨ৎ❀ fluff. smut. deep throating. praise. rich-boyfriend!chuuya x fem!reader. quick lil 1.9k word drabble. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ୨ৎ❀

♡ MDNI ♡

Me 'n My Girl ｡˚☽

so proud to be in your world, just me and my girl ⋆.˚

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A warm mid-evening breeze swept through your hair as you stepped out of large doors of your office building and let out a sigh. The smell of petrichor bounced off of the pavement while a light rain cascaded over downtown Yokohama.

Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been your favorite weather, but the stillness of it was just another reminder of the unrelenting storm of anxiety that’d been plaguing your mind all day.

Nothing had really happened. Work went okay. Your commute there was okay. Your coworkers were okay. Your lunch was okay. Everything was seemingly okay, but that's what made it worse. You couldn't pinpoint the source of your discomfort. Couldn't place the blame on any one single thing for making you feel so off. It was a phantom annoyance. A problem that didn't seem to exist to anyone else besides you.

"Shit." you mumbled, feeling your purse slip from your shoulder as it, along everything it was holding, fumbled out of your reach and spilled out into the middle of the sidewalk.

You were halfway down the stairs, your pumps clicking against the concrete when your hand suddenly reached for the railing. The heel of your shoe breaking clean off, almost knocking you completely off balance.

It wasn't the time to cry. You'd made it so far - managed to hold it together for your entire shift and you were finally at the finish line, but your capacity to handle any more minor inconveniences was well beyond its limit. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, unable to fight back the hot, frustrated tears that streamed down your cheeks while you took both of your shoes off and you gathered up your belongings in defeat.

Chuuya rounded the corner not a second too soon, the loud vroom of his engine coming to a gradual halt as he kicked his foot out to put the motorcycle in park before stepping off.

He smoothed down his disheveled hair, his smirk quickly fading the closer he got to you.

"Baby..." he said softly, looking at broken pair of shoes in your hand and the haphazard way your bag had been slung over your shoulder. "What happened?"

"Nothing," You lied, shaking your head. "It's fine."

He knew you too well though. Knew that if he simply nodded and waited a minute, it would pour out of you without him having to pry. He put a hand on your shoulder, letting you avoid his stare until you finally caved.

"Today was just stupid," You sulked, "Everything was horrible for no reason and then my fucking heel snapped and now," You were fighting an uphill battle against your emotions. More tears pricking at your eyes as your gaze caught his. "And now I can't even ride on the back with you because I'm barefoot and everything is ruined."

Even though he hated seeing you get this worked up, he couldn't deny that there was something so fucking cute about how pouty and helpless you became when things didn't go your way. He took pride in knowing that you needed him, that he was the one you relied on to pick up the pieces when life got too stressful.

"Stay here," he said, taking his leather jacket off and draping it around your shoulders. "I'll be right back, okay?"

You nodded at him, watching him tuck his hands into his pockets as he crossed the street. It was easy to forget who he was sometimes. How merciless he could be with other people when he was so gentle and attentive with you. He was a Port Mafia executive who doubled as a golden retriever boyfriend when no one was looking. Calloused and feared by some of the scariest people in Yokohama and yet for some reason, physically incapable of saying no to you.

You wiped your tears away watching him flick his cigarette onto the sidewalk, an unexpectedly large Chanel bag hanging from his wrist.

"C'mere," he said, taking your hand as he led you to the Ducati.

You plopped down on its leather seat with both legs dangling off to one side while he knelt down and opened the bag, sliding a gorgeous pair of black open-toed suede heels onto your feet.

"Gimme the broken ones."

You pulled them out of your purse with a small smile, letting him throw them away in a nearby trashcan before returning back to you. "Better?" he asked.

"You know there's an Adidas store right around the corner?"

He smirked, placing both hands at either side of you, his mouth grazing yours with a whisper. "My girl had a terrible day at work and you expect me to make it worse by buying her cheap shit?"

Your heart fluttered, another slight grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you breathed in the comforting smell of his cologne. "Your girl is really lucky to have you."

"Yeah, well…" he mused, "I have a feeling she'll be makin' it up to me later.”

⋆.౨ৎ˚.⟡˖ ࣪

The ride back to his house was peaceful with hardly any traffic for a Thursday night.

There was something about being on the back of his motorcycle that made you feel so indescribably close to him. From the way your body pressed against his to the way he'd tell you to hold onto him tighter. You loved the looks people would flash the two of you as you'd speed past them. The butterflies that flooded your stomach each time he'd start to go faster than he should've. Even if he had a bad habit of occasionally breaking the speed limit, you still trusted him entirely. He was well aware of the difference between having a little bit of fun and being reckless and he'd never cross that line when he was with you.

You felt infinitely better by the time you pulled into the garage, carefully letting your legs fall as he shut off the engine. Your bad day felt like a distant memory - your mind now comfortably occupied with the thousand-dollar shoes that were decorating your feet and the way his eyes lit up as he helped you down.

It was hard to process sometimes that he'd been waking up next to you almost every day for the last year and still looked at you like you had put the stars in the sky.

You grabbed his arm before he could make it inside the house, gently pushing him back onto the seat of his bike. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop you as you hovered above him and began undoing his belt.

"You always make me feel so good." You whispered, reaching up to let your lips catch his while your hands continued to unbutton his pants. "I wanna return the favor."

You could feel him growing hard as his tongue swirled against yours with fervor. A gloved hand resting on the back of your neck to pull you in closer while you reached for his zipper and freed him from the fabric that was separating the both of you.

He let out a low groan when your palm met the base of his cock, delicately wrapping your fingers around it as you started to move uppp and downnn at just the right pace, earning even prettier noises from him.

His grip tangled into your hair, moving your head to the side so that he could descend down your neck. Kissing and nipping away at your soft skin while you continued to stroke him. His movements were getting harder to control the faster you went, squeezing him so fucking perfectly that he nearly ripped the front of your shirt open.

You let out a small yelp as he roamed across your chest, lightly slipping your nipple between his teeth while his blue eyes travelled up to yours. "Get on your knees for me."

You nodded, keeping your stare locked with his. Your hand still going in the same motion as you repositioned yourself, kneeling in front of him so that your face was front and center with where he wanted you. You pulled his pants down further, your core aching as you obediently slid your tongue along his base.

"Fuck," he hissed, his mouth dropping open at how tantalizingly thorough you were, "God, that feels – hah – that feels… so.... good."

You took your time, coaxing more heady praises out of him as you made your way up his length, letting a generous amount of spit trail down his shaft while your hand held him in place. His pink tip was practically dripping with pre-cum by the time you reached it, begging to have your pretty little mouth wrapped around it.

You smiled against him, looking up at him with doe-eyes before giving in to his body's needs. "It's all mine, right?" You asked, causing him to twitch in your hand.

"All yours." He groaned, doing everything he could to stop himself from shoving your head down onto him. He wanted you so bad it hurt, but even in the midst of his clouded thinking, he was still more concerned about you. If you needed to hear him say it, then that's exactly what he'd do.

"It's all yours, baby." He exhaled. "I'm all yours… Every inch of me is all – fucking...your...s"

His words were quickly taken from him though, stolen by the way you’d flattened your tongue and pressed it firmly against his tip.

You watched his eyes roll back as his hand gripped your hair, the two of you working to find the perfect rhythm.

You loved the breathy noises he made for you. The way his hips thrusted forward while he buried himself into the warmth of your mouth. The feeling of him getting harder with each slurp and squelch that echoed across the garage as you struggled to take the whole thing.

"Keep going." He grunted, still fighting the overwhelmingly feral urge to slam into you. "Doin' so good f'me."

You went as deep as you could, easing him into the back of your throat while your tongue continued to glide across his shaft.

His movements became more frantic, his voice breaking the faster you went. "God – damn..."

You kept up the same unrelenting pace, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes locked with his again.

"Fuck," his moans turned into guttural whimpers, his body thrusting desperately in search of release. "Just like that," he choked out, "just like that, don't – fucking stop, please baby... don't stop, I'm –"

He looked lost, completely entranced by the hold you had over him as a lewd warmth coated the back of your throat. More carnal obscenities pouring from his lips as he slowly regained control over his breathing and pulled out of you.

"Next time –" he panted, helping you to your feet before leaning in to kiss you. "I'm buying you the whole fuckin' store."

⋆.౨ৎ˚.⟡˖ ࣪

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 10

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, anxiety, self loathing, crying. Angst. Brief mention of asshole ex. Eating related issues. Mention of prescription medication, mental illness and depressive/manic episodes. Pre established throuple. Darling is her/your own tag/warning. Excessive internal monologue. You held onto the hot pan too long, and now you’ve been burnt.

"Look at me." 

"I can't." You keep your eyes clenched tight, so tight it hurts, lungs burning inside your chest. 

"Yes you can, darling. Just open your eyes." Simon's voice is soft, an entreating melody, grit and gravel smoothed out with the gentleness of his words. You get lost in it, the soft murmuring, the easy request, and when you open your eyes, he's still right in front of you, thick palm on the back of your neck, Johnny by his side. "Good girl." 

"I'm sorry." You whisper, and Johnny's brows crease, his fingers brushing along your cheek. 

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for, darling. Ye never do." 

"I didn't-" you gasp for a breath, and Johnny shifts, moving so that you're in front of him, sat between his legs, back against his chest. His hand holds yours, nestling above your breastbone. 

"Breathe with me. Ye can do it." 

"I didn't- I wanted to be better. Be different. I didn't want you to see." You try to explain, try to make sense of it for them. Simon's fingers intertwine with Johnny's, his other hand still firm on the back of your neck, your body cradled between them, in the space that once never existed, a space that now feels like it's been carved out just for you. Johnny pushes closer, holding you tight, and Simon leans forward, forehead touching yours, voice barely a murmur. 

"We've always seen you, darling." 

The floor is a fairly comfortable spot to lay.

It’s comfortable enough, you suppose, as you lay on your back with your eyes fixed on a spot along the ten-foot-high ceiling. Maybe you could paint the ceiling. With clouds. Or a night sky. That might be cool. 

Voices vibrate through the flat, locked door the only thing separating you from them, Johnny’s tone pitching with increasing anxiety, Simon’s cadence soothing, and calm.

He’s calling your name. Calling you darling. Calling you anything to try to get you to come to the door.

You’re overreacting. 

You’re a fool. 

You close your eyes. A night sky might be cool. You could do a lot with the stars, or maybe even the milky way. Get some greens and greys and cobalt in there. Make it look like a long exposure photo. And the moon, you could certainly paint the moon. You’d have to find a ladder tall enough though. And you’d probably need help. You haven’t painted from a ladder in years, not since you did that one mural for- 

“Darling.” It’s Simon. Again. And again, and again, again. Darling, darling, darling. “It’s getting late. Will you open the door?" You keep your eyes closed, but for a minute, your mind fractures, splitting in two, confusing emotions and thoughts bubbling up to the surface.

Don’t think about it. Don’t. 

“No.” You croak out in a whisper. It’s quiet, but he hears it. You know he does.

“Please. I need to know you’re alright, at least.”

You held onto the hot pan too long, and now you’ve been burnt. 

It’s late. The streets are probably mostly empty. You could run down them, if you wanted. You could take a train anywhere. You could take a plane, even, go on a vacation. Go somewhere nice. Go somewhere tropical, maybe get a cute rental, spend some time in the sun or by the oc- 

The thoughts are rapid fire. They spill over, trying to patch up the expanding wound in your heart. They grow and twist, convincing you it’s a good idea, the best idea, to just slip away for a little bit. To go somewhere you don't have feel this, where you don't have to know this as well as you do. 

Don’t think about it. Pack it up. Put it away. 

Johnny’s eyes haven’t left your face. His fingers stroke from the crown of your head and hairline to your temple, your cheek. He’s staring at you like you’re something precious, like you’re a piece of gold, something marvelous he’s never seen before.

“What is it?” You ask, half asleep, drowsy in the bed. You’re still wrapped in a post orgasm haze, cocooned in the soft and sweet of their attention, affection, and Johnny only smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Ye’re so special to us. Ah love ye. Did ye know that?” You shrug, ducking your face away, pressing it into his shoulder to avoid his eyes. 

A wave of longing crashes over you. It swells in your heart until tears prick in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. 

It’s so much. So much more than you ever imagined. So much more than you ever thought you could have. 

“She doesn’t.” Simon says over your shoulder. His hand sits on your waist, the touch firm. Grounding. Like a tether to their world. Their love. You turn, nose pointing up towards the ceiling, looking at him through your peripheral, your fingers intertwined with Johnny’s, holding onto them both. Seeing them both. 

“Tell me again.” 

The TV in the living room is on.

You can hear it’s faint murmur, some movie playing on low volume, the guys undoubtedly sitting stiff on the couch, waiting for you to appear.

You stare at the dark, nearly blackened trees that you’ve painted onto canvas, long, broad brushstrokes taking up too much space, bark texturized to appear burnt, nearly dead, forest scourged by a disease or fire, you’re unsure.

“It starts to chafe us.” Us. Us, he said. Us. Him and Johnny. Right?

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

You’re unsure of everything right now. Unsure about how you should feel. Unsure about what’s happening inside your head.

“-sometimes I worry… about it being the right thing…” The more you think about it, the more you start to lose your grasp. Were those his exact words? Did he mean something else?

For the first time in a long time, you think about one of your ex's. You think about a person who made you feel so small, so much like a burden, a horrible, unwanted responsibility, all the time. You'll never have what regular people have, he said. No one will ever be able to put up with this fucking circus. No one will want this. 

Was he right? 

You should have gotten out. The sentiment replays over and over in between your ears, the awful, miserable doubt and fear and sadness picking away at you until you can feel yourself starting to compartmentalize it all, trying to sort it into neat little bins, trying to keep the weight that is sinking to the bottom of your soul from drowning you, trying to build a wall around your heart.

It’s not conscious. It’s like you’re not even in the driver’s seat anymore, not feeling the full effect of your emotions, not letting it in.

It’s how you felt, when you packed your bags the last time. How you felt when you checked into the hotel, like you were on autopilot. Buried beneath a mountain of feelings but enclosed in a glass cage, segregated from it all.

You should have gotten out. 

“I said I was listening.” 

“But I don’t want ye to listen. I want ye to talk, darling. I want ye to tell us how ye’re feeling. We can’t do this if ye’re not able to communicate.” Johnny’s voice is steady, but there’s a hint of anger behind it, a small flare just starting to light. It makes you angry, that he’s getting angry, and it churns in your stomach until you’re biting out a retort. 

“I communicate just fine!” 

“Do ye?” He snaps, exasperated, your head jolting backwards with wide eyes. “Because from where I’m standin’ it feels like ye’re trying to be stubborn on purpose. Like a child.” 

“A child? You’re calling ME a child?” The air in their apartment is suddenly paper thin, and you hold your breath as Johnny watches you with that same, unchanged, irritated expression. 

“Alright. This is over. We’re taking a break from this conversation.” Simon tells you both, fingers sliding over your shoulder, the touch meant to comfort, reassure, but you jerk away. 

You eye your purse, your keys on the counter. 

“I’m just gonna go home.” 

“No.” He rebukes, and Johnny pales. 

“No, darling. Ye just got here, and we missed ye so, so much. I’m sorry, I dinnae mean-” Johnny pleads, crestfallen, and it makes you feel worse. Like you’re failing him. Like you’re failing at this. Like you’re not good enough for it, for them. “Please?” He adds, and you wilt, silence falling over the three of you again, awkward and wrong. 

“It’s alright.” Simon says. “If you want to go. I’ll take you home.” 

“I can get home on my own.” You try not look at him, finding mundane details in the floor, the sink to stare at instead of their faces, resisting eye contact until Simon steps directly back into your line of sight. 

“I’ll take you.” He steps closer, and like there is a magnet pulling you into his orbit, you respond, tilting your face backwards, letting him see everything. The tears. The anger and sadness. The confusion. He’s intentional with his movements, letting you anticipate everything, the movement of his hand, the bend of his body as his lips come down to press against your forehead. “Tomorrow, alright?” He asks and tells with the words, seeking permission, giving command. Tomorrow, you’ll talk. Tomorrow, you’ll get it sorted. Tomorrow, you and Johnny will apologize. And you’ll try again. Like you always do. 

You nod, because the promise of tomorrow, the assurance that this hasn’t all come crashing down, is the only way any of you will be able to sleep tonight. 

“Tomorrow.”

They both straighten on the couch when the door clicks open.

“Hey.” Johnny says softly, hopefully, and Simon says nothing, just watches you like you’re a wounded animal that might try to flee at any moment. On edge. Vigilant.

Your mind turns, but nothing comes out of your mouth. No response. No acknowledgement. Just empty silence that feels like a thousand pounds, all laying on top of the three of you. Suffocating you. Killing you.

You beeline for the bedroom.

Running away. You’re running away. Are you really going to run away? 

The memory of the hotel haunts you, the awful, empty pit in your stomach that could have swallowed you whole, the dark curtains and dark room enveloping you in a never-ending spiral.

All you wanted was to be found. All you wanted was to be home, with them.

All you wanted was your home, the one you built, made, suffered for, with them. The one that you carved out inside your own bones to hold space for two others, not just one. The home that you completely changed your life for, the love that you believed would see you through it all. 

The love that was always them first. The love that you barged in on, knocked walls down, forced yourself inside of. The love that they held for one another, before they ever held it for you. 

Your head feels like it's underwater. 

Did you make a mistake? Should you have sent them away that time? Should you have fought yourself harder?

The bed calls to you. It begs you to lay down in it, to burrow yourself beneath it's soft sheets, curl up on top of it's ridiculous mattress. Get lost in it. Be found in it. Let your boys curl themselves around you in it, let them kiss you softly and make you promises about how much they love you, or how they understand the way you feel.

If you close your eyes, you can almost see the future. Minutes would pass before Johnny crept inside the door, scoping it out. Doing the recon. Looking for you. His heart would soar when he saw you in the bed, his fears allayed, and he'd hold you so tight you'd think you were suffocating. 

If you were lucky, Simon would come and turn your brain off. Johnny would pass you to him and he'd bring your deepest insecurities, your worries to light, dragging them out to be exorcised and vanquished, by the only men capable of doing so. 

Is that what you want? 

Should you have gotten out? 

“There she is.” Johnny coos above you, warm palm cradling your cheek. You blink, fog encasing your mind struggling to clear, and you push yourself up onto your elbows. 

“What-“

“Happened?” Simon finishes from where he kneels next to the couch, concerned eyes trained on yours, not missing a beat. 

You blink. What did happen? Did- 

“When was the last time ye ate something, darling?” Johnny asks, not unkindly, palm at your back to relieve the pressure from your elbows, moving you into a sitting position so he can take the spot on the couch behind you, effectively wrapping you up in his arms as Simon settles on the other side. 

Shame curdles your stomach, hot embarrassment flaring in your veins. You avoid peering over Simon’s shoulder at the disarray of your kitchen, wincing when you realize he’s sitting on a pile of your dirty clothes. 

“I had breakfast.” You whisper, but Simon shakes his head. 

“When?”

“Yesterday.” You try to adjust, to sit more upright, but the sudden movement has your head spinning, and your palm covers your eyes, little groan in your throat. 

“Easy.” Johnny soothes. Your water bottle is in his hand, and he unscrews the lid for you, lifting it to your lips. “Slow sips, darling. Not too much.” 

It’s easier this way, you realize. Easier to do what’s being asked of you, easier to listen than to think. After a few sips, Johnny pulls the bottle away, and wide fingers stroke your cheek. 

“This is what you were talking about. A few weeks ago.” Simon murmurs, concentrating all his focus, all his attention, on you, fingers still caressing your skin gently. Lovingly. 

“I didn’t mean for it to get so bad this time. I… usually have a better handle on myself.” You try to lie, but Simon cocks his head. 

“Do you?” His fingers hold up the scrap of paper, the one with your note to yourself scrawled across it. 

‘You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.’ 

You bite your lip, but Simon’s thumb presses into it, rolling it out from beneath your teeth, as Johnny rubs your arm, lips soft against your temple. 

“I’m going to take you home. To ours.” Simon tells you slowly, each word deliberate “Johnny is going to clean up your apartment and pack you a few things for the rest of the week.” When you don’t answer, brain slow to catch up, Johnny murmurs in your hair. 

“You have to agree, darling.” Simon watches, silent for a moment before he answers the unspoken question, still cradling your face with one hand. 

“You can trust us.” 

“Where are ye going?” Johnny asks when you appear from the bedroom, hesitant steps keeping him far enough from your body, desperation written all over his face.

“Out.” Your answer is short, sufficient. It feels like it’s coming from another person. You still think you might be underwater.

“Out? No… we need to talk and-“

“I don’t want to talk. To either of you.”

“Darling. Stop.” Simon tries to cut you off, but you turn sharply, away from them both, backpack swinging on your back.

“Ye canae run away from this, from us.” Johnny pleads. “We need to talk about it. Communicate. Like we promised.”

“Like we promised?” You hiss, sizzle of anger breaking through the ice that’s frozen in your veins. “The promise that we made to always tell each other how we’re feeling, the one that he can’t honor?” You jerk your thumb towards Simon, who tries to take a step towards you, only for you to retreat. “Don’t corner me!” you snap, and against your attempt at control, your voice breaks, sob welling in your chest.

Don’t think about it. 

Don’t think about it. 

“It’s alright.” His hands are palms out, cautious. It’s supposed to make him look like he’s not a threat, make him seem harmless. But he’s not harmless. This gaping hole in your heart says so. “We don’t want you to leave.” He implores. “Please. I- let me explain.”

“There’s no need. Everything is pretty clear.”

“No, it’s not.” Johnny argues. “Just, let Simon at least tell-“

“Tell me what? Tell me how it’s not fair? Does it chafe you too, Johnny? You also thinking what’s the right thing? Because it’s an us thing, right? You and him. It’s an us and me. It’s the us that I suffer for.” Your voice crests, and Johnny flinches.

“I made a mistake.” Simon whispers. “Don’t let my stupidity make you question your place in this relationship. We love you, darling. I love you.” Tears burn at the back of your eyes, and you feel the horror of the truth, the confusion about your love for them, their love for you, searing together into a snarled mess.

“If I left you, the both of you, at the end of the day, you’d still have each other. You’d still be together, and I would have nothing!”

“That’s not true. We canae exist without ye.” Johnny sounds broken, hopeless, but you blow by it, dancing around Simon to pull your prescription bottles from the kitchen cabinet by the sink.

“If I died tomorrow-“

“Do not say that.” Simon cuts you off. “Don’t ever say that.” His knuckles are white at the edge of the countertop, expression stricken, and Johnny looks horrified. They both watch you like they’re afraid of what you might say next, what you might do, and nausea pools saliva on the back of your tongue.

Don’t think about it. 

You close your eyes, and search for that underwater feeling. That untouchable feeling, the boxes being packed away in your mind, and try to cling to it, try to shut up the incessant stream of doubt and loathing and everything going wrong inside your head.

They don’t need you. They have each other. 

You chafe them.

Don’t think about it.

“I need…” You trail off, trying to take a deep breath. Trying to organize your thoughts. Trying to hear yourself through the noise of everything else, through the searing pain that’s ripping through your heart.

“It’s alright, darling.” Simon murmurs, encouraging you. “Tell us what you need. Whatever it is.” Johnny’s face has shifted from despondent to hopeful, eyes wide and locked onto yours, while Simon waits, his normal steadfast and patient demeanor nowhere to be found, instead he’s more anxious, more nervous than you’ve ever seen.

You close your eyes again. Your voice shakes when you finally speak.

“I need a break.”

[kitscutie]

hiii !! i was wondering can you do a fic where rafe comes and picks the reader up from a girls night out and she’s super drunk? tyy!

girls just wanna have fun (rafe cameron x fem!reader)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: feel bad for y/n and fluff (a little bit of psycho rafe at the end!?)

summary: after a rogue night at the boneyard you are in desperate need of comfort from your knight in shining armour - rafe cameron.

a/n: i am still trying to be more active while school is picking up but please bare with me :)

word count: 773

join my new taglist here!

Rafe pulled up to the Boneyard with a sigh. He was no stranger to this place, sure, but he was so used to being with you at these times when you would drink too much and end up being driven home in his truck. This time was different.

He had received a call from your phone, not from your friends but Kie. She had found you puking behind a log alone which sounded funny had it been anyone but you.

Your so called 'friends' from figure eight had ditched you. Rafe knew they were bitches but you ever with a golden heart had ignored his warnings, excited by their invite to a girls night meaning he could not accompany you. Now, he regretted it.

"Where is she?" He asked approaching the only person apart from you and Kie in attendance that he could mildly stand, Sarah.

She simply pointed to an area of the beach separate from the party, he appreciated that Kie had removed you from prying eyes who would no doubt speak of the Kook Princess' inability to hold alcohol tomorrow had they seen.

"Fucking finally, she wont stop crying." Kiara said, not out of anger but worry. He glanced down at you seeing you curled up in Kie's arms, eyes glassy and red, cheeks stained with tears.

"Hey baby." He said ever so gently, kneeling down to your level in the sand and no doubt ruining his expensive chinos.

"Rafe?" You whispered peeling your head from Kie's shoulder as you dared to take in your surroundings.

"Yeah it's me, you good?" He asked, lifting a hand to remove the strands of sweaty hair which had stuck to your forehead, the humidity of the Outer Banks mixing with your illness making your body ever so slightly too warm.

"No I-, I don't feel well and I can't breathe properly." You hiccupped, anxiety making your heartbeat uneasy. Your hands reached for his ironed black shirt and he let you scrunch it between your fingers, grounding your mind.

Rafe nodded at Kiara, letting her know she could leave with a silent thank you.

"Think you had too much to drink?" He asked, watching as you messily nodded in response. "You'll feel better soon then, yeah? I see you got most of it out already." He chuckled, knowing you had been sick multiple times between this moment and his phone call from Kie.

"Just wanna go home." You mumbled, leaning into his warm chest.

"Okay lets get you up then." He said standing up and taking you with him as you stumbled on your feet. "Lean against me okay? Good girl." He added as you did so. The name was comforting and soft, sure it was sometimes used during sex but in this moment it was more. Reassurance.

He supported you all the way to his truck where he buckled you in with a gentle kiss to your scrunched and rosy cheeks.

"I don't want you speaking to those girls again." He said, hands clenched around the steering wheel while his jaw clicked in place though his anger was not directed at you.

"What Kie and Sarah?" You slurred, "They helped me though." You finished as your eyes squinted beneath the street lights which flickered as you passed.

"No, no. I'd rather you talk to my fuckin' psycho sister at this point I'm talking about those Figure Eight bitches." He seethed making your head snap towards him.

"Number one, they're my friends, number two, you're also a Figure Eight bitch, no?" You giggled to yourself, knowing deep inside that his anger was justified to an extent. They weren't your friends, not really.

"They're not baby, you're kind and sensitive they're stuck up and have no personality outside of generational wealth." He replied. You saw the irony in his words though it appeared he didn't and it wasn't a hill you were ready to die on so you let it go.

"M'kay well, I feel better now you're here and I didn't like them all that much anyway I'm just surprised they would stoop that low." You sighed into the silent atmosphere as the car, feeling his gaze on you.

He softly placed a hand on your bare thigh in the darkness, squeezing it in a gesture of comfort.

"Yeah." He sighed in defeat.

In this moment, looking at you in the moonlight Rafe felt a new sense of protectiveness over you. You were naïve and too forgiving to your own detriment, he wasn't and if he could help it those girls would never see the light of day again, never mind your beautiful face.

[saberlight1]

nurturing — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, death, trauma, sickness, established relationship, reader is also a gunslinger, Y/N usage, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: yes i love this man so bad. him in billy the kid deadass altered my brain chemistry lmao. this fic is based off of this request— please, continue to send me your ideas and whatnot, i love reading them! i hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

When you woke up, that unusual ringing in your ears, that pounding in your head, and the scratchiness of your throat— you knew you had fallen ill. One of the boys in the gang, or hell, maybe even someone you had came across had given you something— you didn’t really want to know.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you pulled the covers closer to you, attempting to sleep away the sickness. You didn’t want to get up to go to the doctors nor did you have enough money to even pay one. So you did what you do best— ignoring the problem completely.

You fell back asleep easily, sleeping the day and night away completely. When your eyes first fluttered open due to the sunlight intruding on your slumber, you thought you were free from the confines of your illness, but you were mistaken.

The second you sat up, all symptoms that were now arguably worse returned within an instant, causing you to get dizzy. You crashed back down instantly, a whine leaving your lips. Your muscles ached from staying in bed all day, and you wanted a damn drink— a real one. And you wanted to see your cowboy.. so bad. But with the pounding in your head feeling just as powerful as your heartbeat, the thought of even moving made you want to throw up.

And it did— you wanted to cry as you were forced to rush to the trash can in the corner. After 5 minutes of throwing up, your stomach finally relented. You carried yourself back over to your bed, the exhaustion taking over once again.

Hours later, a soft yet powerful knock on your door woke you up with a jump. Your eyebrows knitted as you heard the knocks only get louder. Now alert and awake, you slowly reached for your gun-belt that was neatly rested on your bedside table, grabbing your loaded pistol and cocking it. You used the pistol to slightly lift up the curtain to your window— it was raining, and it was night.

No one good could be paying you a visit at this hour.

You crept over to the door, the knocks only increasing in volume. You slowly turned the handle, your gun tightly in your grip— finger ghosting over the trigger. Adrenaline and anxiety coursed through your veins, you didn’t even feel sick anymore.

The door creaked open, and you pointed the pistol at whoever was out there before you revealed your form.

“Jesus, lady.” Billy’s soft laugh hit your ears, making you lower the gun instantly, placing it on the table by the door. “Stayin’ ready, huh?”

A heavy sigh of relief left your lips as you silently walked into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as your headache began to form again. His arms wrapped around you quickly, the tip of his hat hitting your head when he leaned down to leave a kiss on your hair.

“You alright, honey?” He whispered, still holding you. “Been wonderin’ where you were. Supposed to meet me at the stables earlier.”

You sighed, completely forgetting your plans with the man. “I’m sorry, Billy,” Your hoarse voice whispered. “I’m sick, I been asleep all day.”

His eyebrows knitted together in concern immediately, as he pushed you off his shoulder to cradle your face in his hands gently. “How bad is it?”

“Just feel like shit,” You chuckled, sending a smile to his face. “I’m okay, Billy.”

His eyes clouded with worry. “C’mon, let’s get you in— away from this storm before it gets you sicker.” He ushered you in. “You seen a doctor yet?” He asked.

“Nah, I didn’t think it would get worse, plus it’s not like I got the money to pay one. Tried to sleep it off, I felt too bad yesterday to get out of bed at all.” You responded as you went to lay down. He tucked your gun back into its holster, before he went to refill your water.

He came back a moment later, a glass of water and a wet rag in hand.

“Thank you,” You whispered as you took a sip, as he placed the wet rag on the back of your neck.

He hummed back to you, laying down next you once you put the water aside, bringing you into his arms.

“You gotta tell me when you’re sick, darlin’.” He whispered to you in the moon lit room. “Can’t loose you to somethin’ like that. Happened to me too many times.”

“I’m sorry, Billy.. I— I don’t mean to worry you.” You said, looking up at him.

“You don’t gotta apologize, baby, just tell me next time so I can come take care of you, y’know?” He smiled, a lovey smile on his lips as he bent down to leave a kiss on your nose. “What can of man would I be if I left my lady to lay sick alone?” He pinched your side slightly, a giggle escaping your lips.

“I reckon you’d be a regular ole’ cowboy.” You joked.

“Well, luckily for you, I happen to be an outlaw.” He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss you— but your finger pressed into his lips stopped him. He looked at you, offended.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” You told him, your smile now more teasing.

“I don’t give a damn about some cold, baby.” He pushed your hand out the way, pressing his lips against yours in an instant, the man kissing you passionately— as if you possessed the air he so very needed. He pulled back, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. “Haven’t seen you in days, missed the feelin’ of your lips.” He muttered against your lips before connecting them again, his words sending shivers down your spine, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You felt comfort in the fact that you’d always have your outlaw to be there to make you feel better, no matter what.

[girlgenius1111]

maybe it's the past that's talking... screaming from the crypt.

the great war chapter 4

ona batlle x reader

you and ona enjoy being together, even when it isn't always easiest.

-----

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you scrolled further through the comments on your girlfriend's latest instagram post. The two of you had gone to breakfast with Lucy, and Ona had posted a picture of the food. She didn't post either of you, but fans had noticed Lucy's hand, identified by her wrist tattoo, in the corner of the picture, and they'd gone off the rails.

They were convinced Lucy and Ona were together. It shouldn't have bothered you, but it did. Maybe because of what had happened with Alessia; you'd never really been a jealous person before now. Or, maybe it was that you cared more for Ona than you had for anyone else in your life, and the idea of her being with someone else left you feeling ill.

You were being ridiculous. There was nothing to worry about, you told yourself. Your stomach still twisted with anxiety though, and you had to work hard to school your features when Ona emerged from the bedroom, having gone off to shower. She wasn't really paying attention, looking at her phone as she took a seat next to you on the couch, absentmindedly kissing the top of your head as she did so.

You quickly turned your phone off, letting it fall onto the couch. Ona was focused on whatever was on her phone screen, and you felt a pang of terror; was she talking to Lucy? Were the fans right? Was there something there?

You'd never felt so insane in your life. You didn't want to say anything, because Ona had never given you a reason not to trust her, and you didn't want to seem overbearing and obsessive. At the same time, you felt like you could cry, the mere possibility that something was going on between Ona and Lucy making your heart squeeze in your chest.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ona asked suddenly, turning her body to face you.

"Nothing! Do you want to watch something?" You asked, changing the subject. You were being absurd. You trusted Ona.

Ona grabbed the TV remote before you could, holding it behind your back as she gazed at you.

"Oni," you groaned, trying to reach around her to grab the remote.

She caught your arm easily, tilting her head. "The next words out of your mouth better be, 'Oni, I am upset because...'"

You gave up on the remote, folding your arms and settling back against the couch.

"Do not be grouchy, amor. Talk to me." Before you'd met Ona, you weren't sure you'd ever met anyone as stubborn as you knew you were. Your girlfriend rivaled you, though, and you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

You thought for a moment, the brunette waiting patiently for you to gather your thoughts. She'd pried one of your arms away from your chest, taking one of your hands in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Did you see the comments under your post?" You asked her quietly, peeking at her out of the corner of your eye.

"I did. They can be idiots sometimes, amor, you know that." Ona said, taking in your expression. "Are you upset about what they are saying?"

You shrugged, fighting a wave of emotion at how kind, how understanding, your girlfriend was being.

"What is it that is upsetting you? That they think Lucy and I are together, or that they do not know you and I are together?" She questioned, clearly determined to understand why you were upset, and fix it.

"It's just. There isn't... anything between you and Lucy is there?" You asked in a small voice, eyes flitting up to Ona's quickly, trying to see if you'd made her mad with your question.

She didn't look mad, though. Only a little sad, as she took your face in her hands, gently cradling your cheeks. "No. There is nothing between me and Lucy. I love you. Only you."

Ona didn't ask you why you were so suspicious, so insecure. She didn't need to.

"I'm sorry, Oni. I trust you, you've never given me a reason not to trust you, it's just..." you trailed off, not really sure how to express the emotions waging war in your head at that moment.

"It's that someone betrayed your trust before, and you didn't expect it. That is bound to leave some marks, amor. I am not angry. I will tell you that I love you, and only you, as many times as you need to hear it." The defender told you sincerely. Her eyes were practically hearts looking at you, and you were dove forward, pulling her into a tight hug before you even really knew what you were doing.

Your face was hidden in her shirt, her arms wrapped tightly around you. You were blinking back tears, not because you were upset anymore. Now, it was because Ona just seemed to understand you. So perfectly. She knew what you were thinking before you even had the chance to say it.

"Cariño? Did I say the wrong thing?" Ona asked quietly.

You pulled from her embrace, mashing your lips into hers for a minute. "No, you were perfect. You are perfect." You assured her, pressing your forehead to hers. You were sporting matching grins, and neither of you could bring yourselves to care about how disgustingly love sick you probably looked.

"You are the perfect one," Ona whispered, pairing the words with a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

Maybe, you were both perfect, together.

-----

It was an open secret within the team that you were together. A few people knew for sure, Ingrid, Mapi, Alexia, and Lucy, while everyone else had... very strong suspicions. Outside of the team though, the general public had not a single clue that you were together.

As such, rumors about Ona and Lucy, Ona and Keira, Ona and... everyone, persisted. As time passed, it seemed like it was only increasingly bothering you. Which was why Ona decided to bring up something she'd been considering for a few weeks, sitting on the couch next to you on the way to an important away game. You were distracted, scrolling through twitter, when Ona spoke up.

"Do you ever thing about coming out?" She wondered aloud.

You didn't look up from your phone. "Ona, I'm already out. And so are you, indirectly. Everyone knows you're gay. Look at you." Ona briefly looked offended, before glancing down at her very gay outfit, and giving up on arguing with what you'd said.

"No, not come out of the closet. Come out... about us." That got your attention.

"Like tell the team? I think they all already know, Oni, and they're just trying to be nice."

Ona wasn't quite sure why you weren't understanding what she was so clearly asking you. "No, amor. Go public. On instagram or something. Not like an announcement, something like how Ingrid and Mapi did it."

You were quiet for a moment, and Ona anxiously watched your face. Had she miscalculated? Did you not want people to know about the two of you?

"Why would you want to do that?" You asked neutrally. Your tone was completely free of emotion either way, and Ona sighed, wishing she knew what you were thinking, like she normally did.

"Well, I know the rumors make you uncomfortable, and the only way to get them to stop is..." Ona trailed off, surprised by the sudden sullen expression on your face.

"I don't want you to do that for me, Ona. I can handle the rumors. We don't have to tell everyone before you're ready."

"No! I want to tell people. I... I want everyone to know that you're mine."

Your response wasn't even out of your mouth before a pained groan, and then a yelp, sounded from behind you. Exchanging looks, you and Ona stood slightly, and peeked over the seat.

Mapi and Ingrid were sitting behind you; Mapi rubbing her arm whilst glaring at Ingrid, who was returning the glare.

"Is there a problem, León?" Ona asked coldly.

"No, no problem here," Ingrid replied, smiling apologetically.

"Yes there is!" Mapi cut in. "The problem is that I am trying to enjoy the drive, and the two of you are dancing in circles around something you both clearly want."

You and Ona gaped at her, and Ingrid elbowed her again, hard.

"Stop doing that!" Mapi cried, looking over at her girlfriend with a hurt expression on her face. "I'll fix it for you." She dropped her voice a pitch, turning to one side. "Y/n, can we tell people we're together?" She raised her voice up a bit, turning to face the other way. "Why, yes, Ona, I'd love nothing more."

She turned back to face the two of you, smiling triumphantly. "There, it is all better now."

You and Ona were at a loss for words, and it appeared Ingrid was as well.

"I don't know how you put up with her." You said finally, looking sympathetically at Ingrid.

"I don't either." Ingrid replied, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers and looking rather exasperated.

"Hey! Amor!" Mapi complained, launching into a disgruntled explanation as to why "you don't put up with me, you LOVE me." You and Ona turned back, sitting down in your seats again, trying to keep your smirking to a minimum.

It was quiet for a few moments, before the two of you looked shyly at each other, breaking into giggles.

"I wish she wasn't right." Ona admitted.

"Me too, but she is." You agreed.

The specifics were to be decided later, you both agreed, before you focused on your pre-match routines, headphones on even as your hands tangled together secretly, tucked under the sweatshirt draped across Ona's lap.

-----

You weren't an overly aggressive player, not really. It wasn't often you got carded, and when you did, it was normally warranted. You were always the player calming the others down on the pitch, encouraging them to let the ref deal with situations.

The wave of anger that washed over you, when the number 9 on the opposing team practically tackled your girlfriend to the ground was not a feeling that you could recall experiencing before. Ona's head smacked painfully on the grass, and you could tell by the dazed look on her face that she was hurt. You moving towards her in an instant, as your teammates appealed to the ref for a card and a penalty. Cata was crouched over Ona protectively, trying to make sure everyone gave her space until the medics could reach her.

Cata made to move out of the way as you approached and allow you to take her spot, already planning on how she was going to tease you later about the way you'd instantly rushed to Ona's side the minute she'd gone down. Instead, you walked right passed the pair, barreling toward's the girl that took Ona out, who was loitering a few feet away. Your hands connected with number nine's chest, shoving her backwards. The girl stumbled, coming back at you with a matching shove. It only escalated from there, and by the time your teammates got in between you, punches had been thrown.

It took Mariona and Lucy together to get you separated from the other girl, your lip bleeding, a bruise around your eye already forming. You'd never felt angrier in your entire life. That girl could have hurt Ona, badly. It had been a completely unnecessary action, too, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that Ona was being led off the pitch, supported by a medic on each side.

Even as Mario encouraged you to calm down, and Lucy rubbed your shoulder, you still struggled against your teammates, feeling like you had more to give to the girl being restrained not far from you. That was, until Ingrid and Irene stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

"Calm down." Irene said icily, clearly not appreciating your momentary excursion into vigilante justice.

"She-" You started.

"-We saw what she did. So did the ref. She was about to get carded when you stepped in." Ingrid said, a look of disappointment clear on her face.

"Ona-" You began again, twisting to try to find her on the pitch.

"-Is fine. The medics are getting her off now. You're about to get a red, and you're going to take it, apologize to the ref and the girl, and get off the pitch." Irene told you, glaring as you started to object.

You nodded finally, and your teammates released you, moving out of the way as the ref walked in your direction.

"Nice right hook," Mario whispered in your ear, before following the others off to the side. You fought back a smile at her compliment, focusing on the ref. You did get a red card, as did the other player. She threw the first punch after all, escalating the tussle to a full blown fight.

You apologized to the ref, like you were told to, and you tried to apologize to the other girl but she brushed you off heading for the sidelines. You followed her, feeling the burning gaze of every single one of your teammates on you as you walked off the pitch. You stopped briefly by Jona, who patted you on the back supportively.

"I would yell, but Alexia is already waiting for you in the tunnel," he said quietly, knowing that pretty much everyone was more afraid of Alexia than of him. You nodded, heading towards the tunnel.

Now that you were off the pitch and away from the situation, you felt embarrassment at how you'd acted burn through your body. More than that, though, you just wanted to check on your girlfriend.

Alexia stood, effectively blocking your way to find Ona, arms crossed over her chest, an unimpressed look on her face. She was resting this game, unfortunately for you. Mapi was too, but she was nowhere to be found. Everyone else was still outside on the bench, and you hoped that meant that Mapi was with Ona.

You walked towards Alexia tentatively, wincing when she grabbed your chin and inspected your wounds. Her finger brushed over your lip, and your eye, before she released your chin, and grabbed your hand. Your knuckles were split, and she pressed gently around, watching carefully as you winced.

"Say something." You said finally, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Oh? You want me to say something? I thought you only settled issues with violence." The blonde said, and you shrunk under her sharp gaze.

"Alexia,"

"No. Be quiet. I do not want to hear it. I am disappointed in you, nena."

Your eyes fell to the floor, heart clenching in your chest at Alexia's words, obviously chosen to make you feel guilty, as was deserved. You'd messed up, and you would take what was coming to you.

Alexia launched into a lecture about responsibility, reliability, the team, getting carded, and generally being an idiot. She didn't get very far into it though, before a door opened, and a voice called to you from down the hall. Alexia turned around, and you peeked past her, seeing Mapi leaning out of a doorway.

"Ona is asking for you," she said, an impressed grin on her face. You pushed right past Alexia, rushing down the hall towards Mapi.

"Hey! I was not done yelling!" Alexia called after you. Her footsteps followed you down the hall, but you really couldn't bring yourself to care. You slipped past Mapi into the dimly lit room, and found your girlfriend on a recovery table, awaiting you with a poorly hidden smile.

"Oni," you sighed, relief filling you at the sight of her. You moved closer to press a soft kiss to her forehead, pulling back to look down at her. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling? What about you?" She asked, looking up at your swelling face with a wry grin.

"I'm fine," you dismissed. "Do you have a concussion?"

"No, somehow. Just a bump." Ona promised.

"I guess you do not need to announce anything anymore." Mapi said gleefully. You and Ona both glared at her, before you turned your focus back to your girlfriend.

"She's right. I made it... very obvious."

"I liked it," Ona said quietly, a shy smile on her face.

Behind you, Alexia cleared her throat. You sighed, leaning your head down to hide your face in Ona's neck. "Ask her to go away." You mumbled. Ona laughed under you.

"I am not getting involved."

"Even though I was defending your honor?" You asked incredulously.

"Sí, mi amor. I do not get in the way of Alexia and a lecture she wants to give."

You sighed loudly, before pulling away and turning towards your captain, resigned to your fate.

-----

The team had decided to go out to celebrate the win, and although Alexia had gotten her anger out of her system, she still wasn't letting you OR Ona head to a bar after sustaining mild injuries.

Instead, she accompanied you and Ona back to your apartment. Ingrid and Mapi joined you. It took around an hour for everyone to agree on dinner. Eventually, Alexia got annoyed and picked for everyone. Deciding on a movie to watch was equally as difficult. Mid argument, the doorbell rang. You got up to answer the door, thinking it was the food delivery.

You weren't looking when you opened the door, glancing behind you to laugh at something Mapi said, when a quiet voice had you freezing in your tracks.

"Y/n?"

You turned towards the opened door, towards the familiar soft voice, familiar adorable accent. She was stood in front of you, in a red arsenal sweatshirt, blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She looked just as beautiful as she always did, blue eyes peering at you apprehensively.

"Less?" You asked.

-----

cliffhanger? again?

[highdefhoetry]

how he cares for his mentally ill partner

cw: discussion of mental illness and symptoms, gender neutral reader, fluff

zayne immediately goes into doctor mode as soon as you tell him about your "condition". he researches your diagnosis in depth to better understand your brain and state of mind, as well as the best ways to support you. he diligently checks in on you, always asking how you're feeling and encouraging you to express what's on your mind so you don't get in the habit of bottling things up. nothing you share will ever scare him, even the more "frightening" thoughts you experience. when something's wrong, he does everything in his power to make it right, whether that's hounding your pharmacy to make sure your refills are ready or reminding you when it was time to take your medication. when you have bad mood swings or depressive episodes, he listens to you without judgment, gazing softly into your eyes with nothing but kindness in his own. if you ever lash out at him, he doesn't take it personally. he reassures you as many times as you need, even if it gets repetitive. you will always have your doctor in your corner.

rafayel is a bit confused when you first tell him about your mental illness. he doesn't understand when you say "something is wrong with your brain", because to him, your mind is perfect. he acknowledges your unique struggles, but insists that you are much more than a medical diagnosis or symptoms of an illness. you aren't broken, you aren't too much. you're his beloved, and he is determined to love every part of you, even this so-called "dark" side. he wants to know everything about the way your mind works so that he can be a better partner, whether that's learning your triggers to prevent you from having episodes or figuring out what kind of reassurance you need to feel safe with him. he may get upset sometimes when you lash out at him, but when that happens, he'll remind you that no amount of depression, anxiety, or psychosis will stop him from loving you. you will never have to fear being abandoned again.

xavier doesn't fully understand your condition, but he can relate to your feelings of anxiety and depression. having struggled with those emotions himself, he empathizes with you deeply in a way most other people can't. he never judges or blames you for lashing out; his laid back personality and gentle demeanor help ground you when you feel like you're falling apart. however, he does get upset when you hide your struggles and aren't honest with him about how you feel. you can trust him; you no longer have to bear such heavy burdens on your own. when he can't be there physically, he'll encourage you to self soothe by buying you bubble bath soap or sleepytime tea to relax your nervous system. when he is around and you happen to have an episode, he holds you until the tears subside, wiping them from your cheeks after you've finished crying against his chest. he hates seeing you this way, so he'll do anything to ease some of your pain.

[barbies1shots]

You dont have to write it if you dont want to buttt can we have reader getting revenge on toxic!sukuna THAT MAN NEEDS TO PAYYY🤬

just imagine her cheating back and then finally running away forever🤭

YESS !! we finally need a break from toxic!sukuna .

toxic!sukuna part1 toxic!sukuna part2

☆ - TOXIC themes , cheating , lying , mentions of family , praise , name calling

fedup!reader who blocks Sukuna on all media.

fedup!reader who goes to the police and files a restraining order on him.

fedup!reader who breaks down as she figures out what happened with the videos and pictures he took.

fedup!reader who clears up all the drama between her and Sukuna, claiming that everything was not consented to and most of it was abuse.

fedup!reader who goes out to try and refresh herself, wanting to start a new life away from the negative people.

fedup!reader who meets a nice man, who offers to help her move.

fedup!reader who moved different states to get away from him.

fedup!reader who now takes self defense lessions and now is at the top of her class.

fedup!reader who goes to a dinner date with her new man and figures out that a healthy relationship is what she needs.

fedup!reader who smiles and laughs in appreciation as her new man gave her jewelry as a gift.

fedup!reader who now is riding that man, making him whimper out 'pleases' and 'thank yous'

fedup!reader who smiles happily when she looks at her new man, (your fav).

fedup!reader who crys out when that man fucks her dumb, who fucks her so lovingly that shes numb from the inside out.

fedup!reader who clings onto her new man as he finishes inside of her, mumbling about how good she is.

fedup!reader who looks in the mirror and sees Sukuna standing behind her.

fedup!reader who screams to loudly and darts to the door before Sukuna can get a chance to get his hands on her.

fedup!reader who cries as she calls the cops when she hears him running after her.

fedup!reader who runs to a stop before turning on her heal before punching that man straight in his throat, having him crumbled at her feet.

fedup!reader who saw Sukuna choke on air as his throat seemed to be closing in.

"Didnt i fucking tell you to leave me alone?! I want nothing to do with you Sukuna! Youve hurt me in ways unimaginable and im done! im done with you, im done with your nasty ass head, im done with the way you try to claim me like a damn pig!"

fedup!reader who stares Sukuna straight in his eye as his hands are cuffed behind his back.

fedup!reader who flips her middle finger up at him as hes being driven away in a cop car.

fedup!reader who eventually breaks down crying as the past traumatic moments and adrenaline finally catch up to her.

fedup!reader who looks up and sees her man talk to her in a calm voice and pulling her into his chest.

"look at me, baby. i swear i wont ever leave you, i will make sure you are so happy that it will be sickening. i love you so much, baby, you can never compare. let me hold you, let me in and let me help heal you. i promise to be there at your lowest, at your highest. trust me to help pick yourself back and put yourself back on the right track. i will be by your side."

fedup!reader who burns every single letter sent out to her from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who, then months later, is now in therapy and is going so much better now.

fedup!reader whos therapist told her to make peace with the one thing thats making her have anxiety ridden episodes.

fedup!reader who vists the prison Sukuna is locked in.

"Miss me baby?"

fedup!reader whos eyes well up in tears as she explans to him everything he did wrong.

fedup!reader who stares at Sukuna with hatred as he screams in her face behind the glass.

"you cant lie, you bitch! you were begging me to let you cum! you were begging to let me fuck that pussy! you were begging me to hug and love on you! ive told you, you can escape from me, baby! give me a chance, ill make you love all again!"

fedup!reader who walks out the room with Sukuna yelling at her back that she loved everything he did.

fedup!reader who walks outside and takes a deep breathe before getting in the car and kissing (your fav) on the cheek with a nice smile.

fedup!reader who helps other women in similar situations and now has gotten a part of her life back.

fedup!reader who now has gotten away and is the most happy she will ever be away from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who posts on social media her family, two boys and a kitten, hoping Sukuna will see it when he gets out.

fedup!reader who laughs as she knows Sukuna isnt shit anymore.

ahhhhh getting revenge on Sukuna , ik it wasnt violent but if you want it violent, TELL ME !!

-Aizawas BARB !

[shxtodxroki]

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝙼𝙷𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚂/𝙾

Summary: How would the MHA boys take care of and look after an s/o who’s so sick that they can barely do anything without help?

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up/vomiting (it’s super vague but is mentioned!), mentions of anxiety/overthinking, mentions/vague descriptions of insecurity

Characters: Mezo Shoji, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 1.6k

♡ Mezo Shoji ♡

- I’m pretty sure that you wouldn’t even have to tell this man that you’re sick honestly, he seems like the type that would want to check up on you fairly frequently so when he calls you and hears the tone of your voice he’s immediately like “You’re sick. Relax and get comfortable, I’m coming over to take care of you” and heads straight to your dorm

- And take care of you he does, this boy refuses to let you lift a finger while he’s around and will do absolutely anything you ask of him (and even things you don’t, because he can tell what you need even when you don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to work himself too hard)

- And no matter how much you insist that you’re fine and that he doesn’t need to do so much for you, he won’t listen and will insist that it’s no trouble for him to take care of his partner while they’re sick, and that he knows you’d do the same for him

- Of course, he’ll never do anything you don’t want him to. If you’re too nauseous to eat he won’t make food, and if you just want to sleep and be alone for a while, then he’ll wait in the common room and let you have your peace and quiet to rest

- But he won’t let you shoo him off just because you’re afraid of burdening him, he insists he’s happy to help you with whatever you may need no matter what it may be

- Need to eat something? He’ll prepare any meal from scratch that you want, making sure it’ll be easy on your stomach. Throwing up? He’ll hold your hair for you if it’s long enough to get in the way, and he’ll rub your back and help you through it as best as he can. Out of pain meds? He’ll head out to the store no matter how late it is

- His dupli-arms actually make it quite easy for him to take care of you, as they allow him to get multiple tasks done at once (brewing a nice cup of tea for your throat while also cooking you a meal, for example) and he’s never far from you for more than a few minutes at a time while you're sick

- His quirk also makes him really good at massages, so if your body is sore from the sickness he will happily massage you wherever you need, for as long as you need until you feel better

- He also does not care at all about getting sick, you’re more important to him and he will happily catch your illness if it means taking care of you and cuddling you until you fall into a restless sleep

- This boy is so good with his words when it comes to you, so even if you come to him crying and miserable because you just feel so ill and can’t do anything without feeling horrible, he knows exactly what to say to soothe your cries as he holds you while still validating your feelings

- Overall Shoji is a very patient, doting lover when you’re sick, and he’s exactly the kind of boyfriend you’d want by your side through your illness as he’d comfort you and get you feeling better in no time <3

♡ Eijiro Kirishima ♡

- Kiri is the type of boyfriend to get so sad when you tell him how unwell you’re feeling :( 

- It breaks his heart to see you in that much pain, and even if you try and sugarcoat things and make it seem like you’re not that sick, he’ll see straight through you and insist that he’d be by your side even if it were nothing more than a small cold

- He’s quick to cancel all his plans for the next few days, insistent on being at your beck and call while you’re suffering like this. Even if all you want is some time to relax and rest by yourself for a while, he wants to make sure he’s free and with your notifications turned up on his phone just in case some kind of emergency happens or you need him for any reason

- Now, Kirishima’s actually been working on improving his cooking skills lately by convincing Bakugo to give him some pointers and watching his angry friend when he does cook, so he’s able to make you the perfect food to ease your stomach!

- Homemade soup has actually become one of his specialties, so he’s more than happy to make you some delicious food to help keep you as healthy as possible during this time <3

- He’s also big on giving you massages whenever you mention how sore your body feels. He’s gentle and puts pressure on all the right places to help ease your pain, and he’s more than willing to give them as often as you want! He even suggests it if he can tell you’re hurting but you don’t want to say anything

Kiri's always found hydration very important due to his rigorous workout routine, so while you're sick he makes sure you're drinking enough water to keep your body hydrated. You're already suffering enough as is, don't need to add dehydration into the mix (especially if you're having trouble keeping food down)

- He’s another one who doesn’t shy away from cuddles and even kisses in the slightest, he doesn’t care about the risk of catching your sickness

- He’s lucky enough to have a really good immune system and rarely ever gets sick, but even without that he just can’t resist the urge to hold and kiss you whenever you hold your arms out for him <3 He loves you so much, he will literally never say no to physical affection of any kind with you

- If you start overthinking or telling him how you feel bad relying on him so much for help, he immediately shuts you down with a sweet kiss and some enthusiastic words of support and encouragement

- “Babe, don’t be silly! There’s nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it, it takes a brave person to get through feeling this terrible! You’re doing awesome and I love taking care of you like this, it’s literally my job as your boyfriend to look after you in times like this! So don’t let your mind tell you anything different, I love you and I wanna help!”

- He’s just the absolute sweetest and is willing to be whatever you need during your sickness, and all he asks in return is more kisses and cuddles when you’re up to it and feeling better :>

♡ Tamaki Amajiki ♡

- I hate to say it, but Tamaki would 100% be the overthinking, hovering boyfriend if he found out you were even just coming down with a small cold, so he is incredibly stressed when he finds out just how sick you are this time around

- He immediately begins to hover over your every move, constantly asking how you’re doing, if you need anything, if you’ve eaten or drank enough water, if you’re going to die-

- Safe to say his stress and anxiety have a tendency to get the better of him in these situations, and he admittedly can be a bit overwhelming when you first come down with such a miserable sickness when he realizes just how debilitated you are

- Inevitably, though, you reach a breaking point and ask him as calmly as you can in your unwell state to ease up on all the questions and constant fretting, as your mind simply doesn’t have the energy in your current state and his panic is only serving to make you stressed on top of everything else

- He really is a good boyfriend, though, so he’s quick to do as you ask and eases up a lot on the questioning and constantly hovering over everything you do, even if he is still worried about your health

- Once he’s stopped spiraling, he will notice without you needing to verbally tell him when you want some time to yourself to just rest vs. when you need to be held and taken care of, he’s incredibly perceptive due to his heightened anxiety so it’s easy to adapt to your ever-changing needs

- He is still prone to comforting you with cuddles if you’re open to it, though. Of course he’ll give you space without question if you ask, but in holding you, he can feel you - can feel that you’re still doing okay - and that comforts him as he comforts you

- And whenever you want him near you, he’ll wrap his arms around you and rub your back soothingly as he tells you how sorry he is that you’re in so much pain and how he wishes he could take it all on for you

- And if you’re feeling insecure or like a “burden” of any kind he’ll reassure you that he’s more than happy to take care of you, and that you deserve help and care when you’re feeling so ill. You don’t have to be strong in times like this

- Tamaki has a huge collection of tea since it helps with his anxiety quite a bit, he has every flavor imaginable and plenty of choices including decaf. So when you’re sick you will have your pick of the crop as he’s more than happy to share whatever you need. Rest assured, your throat will be soothed with warm herbal tea as long as your boyfriend’s around lol

- And even though social situations usually make him anxious, he’ll do anything you need while you’re sick. He knows it makes you feel nauseous to even stand up, so he’s more than willing to go out and order food for you or whatever you need even if the thought makes him internally want to shrivel up and crumble, because he loves you more than he fears others <3

- Tamaki may be a bit overwhelming at first when you get sick, but once he gets past that hurdle he will go above and beyond to get you well as soon as possible, he values you more than anything else and just wants to get rid of your pain as soon as possible :]

Request - @orangeishsstuff said: Hey Hun! Its been a while! I hope you're doing well and I love the way your page is looking:DSo y'know about me from last time I had an ask and guess what? I'm sick as a dog. I tried to tough it out for that past few days with some midol but today was the tipping point. I can't eat much without feeling like puking and I can't stand without feeling like I'll fall, I'm exhausted, pale, my hair is a mess,  I can't go to my classes, I can't run (very mad about that) and I can't do anything without feeling like crap. Last time I tried to get to class my parents stopped me before I could get out the door. I hate the help but I can barley do anything on my own. How do you think some of our fave mha boys would deal with it?  Specifically shoji, kiri, or Amajiki...if you are to busy rn I completely understand since it's flufftober but I thought I'd shoot my shot! I hope youre doin well!

A/N: I know this ask is from a while ago and I’m sure you’re not feeling ill anymore so I know this won’t be as comforting as it would have been at the time of you sending this ask, but I hope you’re able to enjoy this anyways! You’ve always been one of my sweetest followers and one of the only people I’ve actually gotten to talk to on this blog so far, so I try my best to get your requests written first even if they are a few months late </3 I've actually had this in my drafts for the past like 4 days just needing to proofread lol but this semester just started and it's already kicking my butt, so I'm glad I'm finally getting around to posting it! :D My requests are currently open, so feel free to send in any requests you have to my inbox!

Taglist: @pasteldaze @yeagerfushiguro @papijean @trashy-bowtie @palenightmarepersona @eunoiasa @applepie-macaroon @ghostofscarley @lemonadae-chickie @swiftbyul @shinsosmatcha @tsukkisukkii @awkwardaardvarkforever @shotos-angelic-whore @ace-lavender @thekaylahub

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[laluv-469]

<begging boyfriend suguru back home after a fight>

synopsis: you'd been growing increasingly concerned with your boyfriend's new secretary at work; a beautiful, older, pink haired woman who'd been making you extremely insecure about yourself. suguru had began to stay at the office longer and coming home later. whenever you had tried voicing your concerns, he'd dismiss it as if it was some ridiculous idea (which it was, as suguru hadn't been cheating whatsoever) however, you didn't believe him. you were sure he'd been cheating and the one time he came home at 12 am after spending an entire day at the office, you had enough. you bickered with the man for a while and finally kicked him out. of course, you couldn't stand being without him so you texted, begging him back home.

content: suguru geto x fem reader, suguru geto x y/n, jjk x reader, smut, angst, fluff, makeup sex, fingering, unprotected, cowgirl, humping, etc etc.

word count: about 2,264

editing this at 2 am, and with the small text? defo apologize in advance for any grammatical errors <3

come home love - you, 1:43 am

? - suguru, 1:43 am

i forgive you, just come here. - you, 1:43 am

…please - you, 1:44 am

i don't understand, y/n you kicked me out. - suguru, 1:44 am

please baby i miss you. ill help you understand when you get here - you, 1:45 am

omw. - suguru, 1:47 am

seen

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

you layed in bed holding your phone above your head, legs crossed around a large squishmallow. you had missed your boyfriend’s intimacy, couldn't live without him which was.. concerning to say the least.

the sound of keys jangling came from downstairs, causing your ears and eyes to perk up and away from the phone.

you listened to the door opening and shutting, followed by the sounds of steps coming up the stairs.

“y/n?” suguru called out, his voice echoing from down below..

silence ensued as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest, a feeling of anxiety overwhelming you. you weren't sure how he'd act… angry? cold? or just.. the same as always?

suguru now stood by the frame of your door, taking in the appearance of his emotional mess of a girlfriend that was you. you wore pink shorts and his large gray hoodie, clinging onto it for dear life as tears rolled down your cheek. the squishmallow was clenched tightly between your legs, the poor thing worn out, evident from your desperate dry humping. god, you were a pathetic sight right now, needed to be taken care of.

your boyfriend sighed, climbing onto the bed and laying down next to you. he looked down at your legs, eyeing the squishmallow, then back up to you expectantly.

in a swift yet gentle motion, he swiped the plush away from your legs and threw it to the ground, replacing it with his hand. “we'll have to wash that…” he snuggled up next to you, being so close that his lips rested on the sensitive spot on your neck. “and as for you…”

suguru's hand ran up your inner thigh, lightly grazing the skin, sending shivers down your spine. “why're you here crying by yourself?” he questioned, voice low as well as his eyes.

you mumbled, slightly closing your legs in an instinct response to his cold touch. “mmnh.. missed you..” that's all you could get out really. of course you were ashamed of yourself, you couldn't muster up the courage to even try to speak coherently to the man. you just needed his attention and love.

his lips began to lightly nibble on your neck, his finger running little laps around your inner thigh. “missed me?’ he whispered through the confinement of your skin. he bared his teeth, taking small bites of your neck. “don't kick me out baby, then you won't have to hump your pillow like a little whore.”

you whimpered at his words just as much as his touch. your panties began to soak, the heat from his fingers getting to you. suguru now began sucking on your neck, grabbing large pieces of skin between his teeth and absolutely eating you like an animal.

all the while he ran his fingers up your leg, them finally finding their way up to your shorts. he effortlessly yanked them down and quickly placed his fingers against the wet fabric that was your panties.

he let out a light chuckle against your neck, rubbing against your wetness with two slender fingers “god, what were we even fighting about again? let's not fight anymore, i don't need my little princess being more needy than she already is…”

you let out a hefty breath, your thighs twitching around his hand. “suguru..nn~” you pleaded his name, begging him to just touch you already.

“yes, baby?’ his lips left your neck with a lick, the spot being revealed as extremely red and irritated. he raised his eyebrows in a mock display of curiosity. he lightly tapped his fingers against your panties as they almost began to appear transparent with moisture.

“fuck.. please.” you whined like a dog, bucking your hips against his fingers, beginning to take matters into your own hands. fuck it, you would ride his fingers right here if you had to.

but he stopped you, hastily removing his fingers from the cave between your legs. he pulled his hand back and now with four of his fingers, he slapped your cunt. hard. creating a loud smacking sound followed by your needy whine.

“ah!” you practically yelped as you twitched in response to the cold slap against your pussy.

“use your words, love.” he spoke sternly, his dark eyes glued to yours. he simply watched you suffer, watched your reactions. watched the desire in your eyes grow.

“sugs, p-please just touch me, fuck me… something please..” you let out in between labored breaths and lust-filled eyes.

suguru heard your words and complied, returning his fingers to the warm spot between your legs. he tapped your pussy a few, rubbing it against the fabric, thumbing the clit. finally, he slipped the panties to the side, revealing your soaked pussy. a tear trickled down your thigh, which he scooped up and licked immediately.

with only a few grazes over your entrance, he instantly shoved his fingers inside you, filling the hole you've been meaning to for a while now. you moaned quietly, pleasure seeping through tight lips. he pulled his two fingers out, moving them up to the clit to circle a couple times, then returning to your hole. he breached your entrance again, filling the hole repeatedly with his tall slender fingers. you trembled under his grasp, hips rocking with the motion of his fingers seeping in and out of you.

his fingers kept fucking you, slowly yet ever-so heavenly. your wetness clenching onto his fingers, the cream lingering and dripping down to his knuckles as he reached deeper inside you each time. you moaned sweetly into his ear as his free hand worked to fondle your breast, pressing his thumb to your nipple firmly. both his hands worked to please you, making you feel like you were in ecstasy. eyes shut tight while his fingers seeped into you.

after he heard you gasp, he knew he reached your sweet spot. with this, he pushed his fingers even deeper inside you, pushing the absolute limit. he remained deep in that spot and began to move his fingers in circles, warming up his wrist for more. his fingers once again proceeded to fuck violently inside of you, moving insanely fast in a circular motion as you began to shake with the rising sensation of an orgasm. the squelching sound of your wet cunt grew loud as his knuckles brushed against your pussy lips. his fingers fucked you fast, causing your body to go jelly. you moaned and whimpered and cried into his ear.

there it was, your juices began to squirt everywhere, every direction without hesitation. “aa- aughh nnn!! sugu!!!” you whimpered like a fucking bitch, coating your boyfriend's fingers in your cum.

it wouldn't stop though, you kept squirting and squirting like a fountain. juice leaked down his hand, even fell onto the bedsheets, his arm, everywhere. “good fucking girl, savin' all this juice for me..” he encouraged you, helping you ride out your violent orgasm.

his fingers slowed and pulled in and out ever so gently, fucking the wave away. once the shaking of your legs stopped, he pulled out and presented his fingers to your mouth.

“mmm look at this…” he pressed his fingers to your tongue, then back to his, sharing the juice between the two of you.

suguru then repositioned himself underneath you, in such a swift motion he threw your weight on top of him. you straddled him, sat on top of his lap and already began to grind on his thigh.

he ran his hand down to your ass, squeezing it and ripping your panties off completely, then smacking it hard. his other moved up your stomach, palming it as you desperately grinded against his lap, breath heavy and wet.

“you so fuckin’ desperate for this cock, huh?” he very subtly rocked his hips beneath yours, his erection stiffening beneath his pants. “gotta work for it, baby, ride me how you did that pillow-” he nodded suggestively, allowing you to practically take control.

you nodded back receptively and eagerly, “mhm!~” you lifted yourself off of him slightly, racing down to his pants to yank them off. he helped you take those off, along with his boxers.

his cock sprang out from its confinements, revealing to be hard and already leaking with pre-cum. you quickly rubbed your cunt to it, grinding up and down. you forced it down onto his stomach, getting a small wince out of him. you continued to grind back and forth, his foreskin slipping up and down. you breathed heavily, eager to get this thing inside you already.

suguru seemed to be getting impatient as well, eyebrows furrowed watching your teasing motions. his pre-cum began to leak onto his stomach, the friction of your body against his cock forcing it out. he moved his hands to your hips, guiding you as you grinded against him. your body rolled against him smoothly as your cunt hugged his hard dick, small grunts escaping from his mouth.

sure, he was willing to let you tease him, but he wasn't gonna resist touching. he moved his hand up to fondle your breast as the other one rested on the arch of your back. suguru began to heave, his chest rising and falling anxiously with a weak expression. you rocked your hips against him a few more times before lifting yourself, struggling a bit as you guided his tip to your entrance.

slowly, you sat down on his dick, his entire length seeping inside you. you remained seated and just kept grinding, small moans escaping your lips as you allowed the size of his cock to settle in. his hips also moved, the both of you working to shove his cock deeper inside you.

god, you fucking loved the way his cock felt almost stuck inside you, your tight walls hugging it as it barely budged. you kept your eyes low and heavy and reached your arm to wrap around his neck as your other hand was pressed on his waist for support. your mouth hung open shamelessly as you rubbed your fingers into suguru's scalp. you humped his dick the same way you did your pillow, so-so desperately.

you now felt comfortable enough to lift yourself off of his dick, his tip barely escaping your pussy lips before slamming yourself back into him, getting a nasty moan out of the both of you.

“aghh fuckk~” he groaned dangerously low, eyes squinting with a pained expression. “fuck y/n keep going..” he begged, digging his fingertips into your hips helplessly.

you nodded compliantly, picking up the pace and beginning to bounce up and down onto your boyfriend's wet dick. it curved with each movement, throbbing each time it made contact with you. “su.. gu.. ru.. nnn~” you stretched out his name with each moan, showing him how fucking thirsty you were for him. the sounds of clapping and wet moans filled the room, a dirty yet beautiful melody of mess.

your ass bounced violently against his hips, the curve of your body being apparent as each bounce intensified. each time you felt him hit your spot, that sweet feeling rising slowly. suguru pulled you by your back and down onto his chest, your breasts smushed against him. he whispered into your ear, sounding sweet and grateful unlike before.

“i love you, i'm sorry for being.. inconsiderate.” he grasped onto your hair as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

you could tell he was close, and you weren't following so far behind him. you could barely respond to his sincerity, though, your words blabbering and stammering.

“l-love you too su-gu~” you replied, hips going practically numb as suguru took control, slamming into your core until you couldn't take it.

you let out a stretched out moan as suguru released inside you, ropes of cum shooting up your womb. god, it was a lot of cum and it just kept going, filling you up to your heart's content.

“annnh!~! coming, coming!” you tapped suguru's shoulder frantically as your legs shook violently, your orgasm nearing once again.

you whined into suguru's shoulder before biting down onto it, your teeth marking it harshly as you came all over his cock. he pulled out of you, revealing the mess of stickiness created between your bodies. your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as your juice leaked out of your pussy, falling onto his now limp cock which occasionally twitched in the aftermath of your steamy session.

you sighed, panting tiredly as you collapsed onto suguru. he took you in his arms, rubbing your back and digging his nose into the nook between your shoulder and neck. he kissed the crevice, pecking it all the way from your neck up to your face.

“mmm” he hummed softly, “no one else but you baby, only you.” he whispered into your lips, smiling into a sweet kiss in which you reciprocated.

a small, content smile painted your lips as you lay your head onto suguru's chest, the rest of your body remaining straddled and held tight against his. you two stood like this for a while, enjoying each other's company which you had so badly missed. you hated getting into fights with him, but damn he knew how to reassure you time and time again.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hello :)

Could you please do and platonic Aizawa x daughter reader?

His daughter is in her teen years so she is being like really rebel and all that so they fought a lot, but one day she just breaksdown during one fight and starts crying and apologizing for being a shitty daughter?

I have been avoiding this for so long, and it's all because I have no idea how aizawa would handle something like this. because it goes against everything that Aizawa would try and teach his kid so this may be a little forcefully written, apologies.

TW : unhealthy parenting, mental illness, some suicidal thoughts, probably angsty shit, I dunno, read at your own risk.

We can start this by walking through how this may start in the first place. I think the best place to start is that reader's mom left her and Aizawa when she was very young, and Aizawa, assuming here he didn't understand how to properly tell her why her mother left her, never tells her why.

Now reader is very young so she might blame one of two things.

herself

her father

While both instances would technically work, I think the more favorable option is she blames herself since a young child would probably never blame an adult they look up to and hold dear as the problem.

Up to this point her father has been really kind to her so the only other variable is her, this spirals into social anxiety, low self esteem, and depression. all of which don't help when you have an absent mother and a neglectful father who is both a teacher and a full time hero, which leaves little to no room for children.

(this is also why I think it isn't realistic for Aizawa to keep Eri or a child without another non-hero caretaker. Fight me, I dare you.)

As time goes on, and this child becomes a teenager, she might not know how to properly express her feeling and after being misguided by factors like the internet, other adults, and "friends" she might take out the feeling of being abandoned on her closest caretaker and another source of her problems; Aizawa.

if you purposely yell at him or start arguments it's not going to be very fun because Aizawa has this complex where if his students or other heros represent incompetence or arrogance he expels them or ignores him rather than explaining it to them and helping them improve, this is especially with students.

and since he lacks a true connection with you as his daughter mainly because of his job(s) and past with Oboro which he is still trying to heal from keeping him from bonding with you, he'll treat you as a student like the rest of the teenagers he knows. and even then, you may actually be treated worse than his students because while he interacts with them daily, he interacts with maybe 1 hour every other day.

so from all that he simply ignores you, just stops interacting with you entirely, he's too tired for your bullshit. this action makes the wedge between you two even worse.

if you keep persisting though he will yell back but it's often really short and really loud. something like "SHUT UP" a cold "I don't care." before slamming the door in your face. He knows it's probably not right to do that to your daughter but let's face it. you're just this annoying teenager he legally has to live with if he doesn't want to lose his hero and teaching license.

this is where things actually get very interesting, because let's assume he stops approaching you entirely, you just live in the same house nothing more than that, and while you may act like you hate your father for ruining your family and neglecting you all your life on the outside, remember, you're still that little kid in second grade that blames yourself for your mother leaving and your father not caring for you.

so let's say you realize this and go back to blaming yourself for everything like you did when you where a kid but since your father stopped talking to you entirely explaining your faults to him maybe difficult.

this where my personal experiences come in, I've actually had this happen to me in my own life, and I truely hope that you'll enjoy it. thank you.

---------

why is it that the voices are the loudest in the dead of night?

the moon is gone, the birds are silent, there isn't a single light that shines on your tear streaked face, puffly, swollen, sad, just sad.

years of confusion, neglect, a lack of love in it's purest form.

all because of you.

it's all because of you.

it's sings so prettily, like it's a church choir spreading the word of the lord like it's common knowledge.

it's common knowledge that you are a terrible person!

it cackles.

the urge to strangle yourself to finally feel some relief has never been stronger.

lie awake in the dead of night, in pitch darkness, a proper scenery to match ones broken and cracked soul, be careful, you might hurt yourself, again.

however, one cannot weep in their wallows forever.

the night has to make way for the morning sun.

and a relaxed self pity has to make way to dread.

dread.

dread of him, he who you blame for everything, everything you know is your fault.

it's all your fault.

a click at the door,

the creak of the old wood and the hinges never oiled.

mild thumping footsteps that wander around the apartment that can barely hold your overflowing buckets of tears.

you can mumble out all your pleas.

pleas that this is all a terrible nightmare and your real life is actually one with a kind and loving mother and a supportive and encouraging father.

mumble out the little lies that you made up all these years to make yourself feel worse and other better.

"it's pointless to keep trying."

"I wish I wasn't here."

"why can't I just be happy?"

"it's all my fault,

it's all my fault,

it's all my fault."

the thin walls don't do those in mourning justice though.

for the wind is calm, the branches don't dare to move, the owls, the bats, the sleeping heros in training downstairs don't make a peep.

for the only ones alive, awake, aware, is a man beaten down and broken by society serving as it's protector, ignoring the one in most need of protection all this time. With him is a girl. a girl that's scared, scared of her mirror image that haunts her, a girl who's cried an ocean, screamed a thousand wails of pain, a girl lost in her own heart,

"No wonder no one loves you."

you lie again.

but keen ears trained from years of work with villains hears you, for the first time, he hears you.

not the rebellious teen he's seen yell out strings of pure hatred and fiery insults like he's her own worst enemy.

it's the girl who he saw waiting on the steps to their apartment all those years ago. waiting for her mama to come back home with the promise of cupcakes.

it's the girl who never smiled for the remainder of elementary school.

it's the girl who's heart withered way that autumn evening.

he heard the softest little voice in the dead of night. he heard his daughter cry

"No wonder no one loves you."

.

.

.

"But I love you."

for that whole night, for that whole night.

the peace was disturbed.

for that whole night, it seemed that the moon shone once again.

it may not be the sun. but it'll do for now.

Aizawa walked away shortly after that.

leaving a little girls and her mirror image to ponder.

ponder.

---------

Afterwards I don't think he'd talk about it too much, he's proabably approach you after breakfast the next morning and tell you "you can talk to him about it if you want." but not much more than that

he definitely would change his practices though. like getting you a therapist, taking the weekends off in favor of being around the house more.

he'll let you get used to his presence first like one would with a cat, and one day. maybe years later, or tomorrow, you'll talk to him.

you'll tell him you love him too.

and maybe.

just maybe.

the world will stop,

and everything will be okay.

[riordanness]

— say don’t go - [tmr!newt]

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: uh- you have the flare

requested: no

We’d been running for… how long? It felt like forever. Days and days of scorching heat, oppressive sunlight, harsh winds. My throat feels dry all the time, my eyes ache, and my legs are rubber.

At least I have Newt. No one could ask for a better friend. He’s always there for me, right beside me no matter what. He gives me the water even though I know he must be just as thirsty as I am.

He makes sure he’s the one carrying the pack we’re supposed to be sharing; he’s always taking my turns.

How can I tell him I know I’m not immune? That the cranks scratched me back in that old warehouse a few days ago? The weight of knowing my days are dissolving in front of my eyes is so heavy I can barely breathe. What should I do? What does anyone do, knowing you’re about to die?

I know I have to tell him soon. I can’t keep putting it off — it’s killing me in more ways than one.

Minho calls for a stop hours after nightfall. I have lost complete track of time; too lazy to keep track with my wristwatch. My head is fuzzy enough as it is.

Newt glances at me, and gives me a weak smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground, my knees giving way after one too many hours of walking.

Newt is at my side in an instant. “Are you alright?”

I try to nod my head. “Just… tired. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He holds out our shared water bottle. There’s barely a gulp left in the bottom.

I shake my head. “You take it. I had it last.”

“No.” Newt is serious. “You need it more than I do. Besides…” He hesitates, but doesn’t continue. I’m too scared to ask what he means.

I eventually give it and take the water, the few semi-cold drops helping immensely. I feel my body shutting down, my eyes trying to close.

Newt shifts over to sit beside me. “Go to sleep, love.”

I don’t even try to stay awake. I lean against him and am instantly in darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m startled awake. I don’t know why, as it’s still pretty dark, the air is still cool, and none of the boys have stirred. I wonder briefly if a sound in the night woke me, but I see and hear nothing.

It’s probably just the growing anxiety and disease taking over my brain. I inch away from Newt, desperate not to wake him. He’s been doing so much for me, for everyone. I owe him my life ten times over, and I don’t want to disturb maybe the last peaceful sleep he may get.

I get to my feet, and my eyes stray to Newt’s sleeping face. I have a ridiculous urge to touch his cheek. He looks so soft and pretty and perfect, just laying there.

I force myself to turn around. I walk a minute, until I stumble across a little boulder and sit down, my chin in my hands. This illness inside of me is eating me up. I can feel myself fading away, everything that makes me me slowly dissolve into nothing.

I don’t know how long I sit there, despairing.

Eventually, someone approaches. I can tell by the slightly uneven footsteps who it is even before they speak.

“Hey, Newt.” I have no emotion in my voice, struggling to keep it even.

“Y/n,” he replies, gently sitting beside me. “What’s up, love?”

I shrug. “Nothin’.”

Even though it’s too dark to tell properly, I know he’s got his you-are-such-a-bad-liar face on. “Y/n.”

I sigh. “Okay. Fine. I—“ But the words die in my throat. I can’t seem to find the right way to tell the boy I love more than anything that I’m about to, well, die.

“You have the bloody Flare.” The anger in Newt’s voice takes me by surprise more than the fact that he knows.

“What—“

He slams his hand into the rock we’re sitting on, cutting me off. “It’s not fair!” He hisses. “We have to fix this, we have to—I cant, lose you—“

His voice cracks, and I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s trying not to cry.

That makes me break down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sob. “I just—I didn’t want… I don’t know. I just don’t want this.”

“Nobody shuckin’ wants the Flare, Y/n.” Newt’s voice is gruff, but almost teasing, a little reminder of what we used to be together. Joking, teasing best friends.

That makes me break down completely, and I cry heartbrokenly into my hands. I feel Newt wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I cry into him, clinging to his shirt like it’s my life.

“Newt,” I manage. “I’m going to die.”

“No you’re not.” His tone is firm. “I’m not gonna lose you. I—I love you, ya dumb shank.”

“What…?” My tears come to a hiccuping stop, and I lift my head to look at him. “You…”

He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing?”

I shake my head, a smile on my face despite it all. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Oh,” Newt laughs. “Oh, okay. Good.”

I lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Just hold me, please? Help me forget for a while.”

And Newt does exactly that.