#shoulders. hurt. legs. hurt. feet. hurt. eyes. blurry. sweating and shivering. so so so tired. heartbeat being a little bitch.

[apollo-zero-one]

WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY HEALTH PROBLEMS BUT GOD WON'T LET ME DIE

FUCK

[daydaydayrk420]

Comfort after nightmares

Bucky Barnes X male reader

⚠️ nightmares, cock warming, male reader, sad Bucky, bottom Bucky, angst, partly smut⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

желаниe (Longing)

It's the same thing.

pжавый (Rusted)

Every night.

Печь (Furnace)

It's the same dream.

семнадцать (Seventeen )

Same hour.

Доброкачественные (Benign)

The same dream.

Девять (Nine)

The same screams.

Возвращение домой (Homecoming)

Same cries.

Один (One)

The same nightmare.

грузовой вагон (Freight car)

A brick wall bursts into pieces as a silver metal arm punches through it. People start screaming and running while the sound of heavy boots stomping echoes through the room. The winter soldier walks through the wall and aims his gun. The victim's face is blurry... Unknown. Or maybe his mind can't decide which face it should choose from the amount of options to put on. They beg as they crawl on the floor... Their voice echoes... it sounds as if it was a mix of multiple pleas from different people in one body. The gun fires. Why. Why did it fire? His finger wasn't even on the trigger. The bullet flies in slow motion. He tries to scream. But the muzzle felt like it was sowed into his flesh. He drops the gun and tries to pry the mask off. It hurts. He screams but it comes out as a quiet whimper. He tries to run instead. But his legs are not responding.

The bullet hit.

Bucky gasps and wakes up in a cold sweat. He's breathing heavily as he looks around disoriented. He's sleeping on the floor next to the bed as usual. The bed never felt inviting. He grabs his head and takes deep shaky breaths. He can't calm down. He looks up towards the bed. It's empty. Y/n must be in his office.

He sighs as he stands up with shaky legs. He's wearing only his underwear. He lets out a shaky breath once his bare feet feel the coldness of the hallway floor. He wraps his arms around himself and walks down the dark hall towards the home office.

The door isn't properly closed so he doesn't bother to knock. He looks in and sees y/n on his work computer. Y/n is clearly unaware of Bucky's presence. Bucky makes his way in. His footsteps are ghost-like quiet after years of training. Bucky lets out a shaky breath as the nightmare decides to repeat before his eyes again. That catches y/n's attention and he turns his chair to look toward Bucky. "Buck?"

Bucky walks into y/n's already open arms. He sits in his lap and sniffles. Y/n doesn't question anything already knowing what's happening and simply rubs Bucky's back soothingly. Bucky buries his face in his neck and closes his eyes enjoying his lover's touch. Y/n turns his chair again and faces his computer while he holds Bucky in his lap.

He caresses his back for a bit before he frees one hand and uses it to continue working on his computer. Bucky is on the verge of falling asleep again but something's missing.

"y/n...?" Bucky whispered. "Yes, darling?" Y/m hums and looks at his lover. "Can...Can I cockwarm you...?" He whispered with his face in y/n's neck. Y/n chuckles and caresses Bucky's hair. "If it'll help you sleep."

Bucky wastes no time and removes his boxers. "Buck you should put on at least a shirt. It's cold tonight." Y/n said as he caressed his boyfriend's cheek. Bucky huffs and looks around hoping to find anything to wear because he's too lazy and tired to return to the bedroom.

Y/n chuckles and removes his sweater. "Here." Bucky nods and takes it. The sweater droops off his shoulder and has longer sleeves than his arms. He looks adorable. Y/n grabs a bottle of lube and hands it to Bucky. "Prep yourself darlin'. I have to work." He said and caressed Bucky's thighs before he returned to writing on his computer.

Bucky whimpers and rolls his sleeves so the sweater doesn't get dirty. He lubes up his vibranium fingers and reaches behind himself. He traces his puffy hole and shivers at the touch of his cold metal.

He doesn't need to be stretched. Not really. He's still a bit open from the fun he and y/n had. Yet he knows y/n won't let him go on unless he's prepped so he's not in pain. Bucky pushes his first finger in with ease. The second one slides in smoothly too but the third takes a little more pressure. He whimpers and rests his head on y/n's shoulder.

"Take it slow Bucky. We have all night." Y/n said and rubbed Bucky's back. Bucky whines in protests wanting to have you inside him already but he knows better than to disobey. He pulls his third finger back and just uses his two fingers. He slowly moves them in and out and spreads them apart. "Good boy." Y/n praised. Bucky whines and fucks himself onto his fingers.

After a bit of fingering the third finger finally slides in with ease. Bucky works his fingers in faster eager to get the real thing already. "I'm ready." He whimpers and looks at y/n. He looks so adorable. Cheeks flushed with three fingers deep in his hole. The large sweater doesn't help. Y/n savors the view before he lifts Bucky up a bit so he can pull his dick out of his pants.

Bucky is already holding the lube again. putting some in his hand and as soon as y/n's dick is out he grabs it and strokes it to lube it up. Y/n groans at the eager touch before he chuckles and kisses Bucky's cheek and jaw. Once Bucky is satisfied with his work he lifts himself up onto his knees and lines up his boyfriend's soft dick with his hungry ass. He lets out a long whine as he sinks down. Y/n groans and fights the urge to fuck up into him and take him against the desk.

"That's it Bucky. Take all you need." Y/n murmured and caressed Bucky's back. Bucky whimpered and rested his head on his lovers shoulder and closed his eyes. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable. Y/n groans and grips Bucky's hips and buries his face in his neck. But he fights back. This is about and for Bucky. Bucky eventually found his spot and relaxed. Y/N takes some time to collect himself before he goes back to work. he slides his chair closer to the desk and leans back. He lazily writes with one hand while his second hand caresses Bucky's lower back in soothing circles. Within ten minutes Bucky has fallen into a peaceful slumber.

[toricrypticice]

The Golden Scarred

CHAPTER TWO (Lingering Desolation)

Three days later

Hunter felt hot and sticky. He had woken up feeling more out of it than usual, with a loud ringing in his ears and a sour taste in his mouth. He had attempted to change his bandages but even the slightest touch caused immense pain, almost identical to the night he-..

betrayed Belos.

The panic about the night was an easy excuse to leave the bandages untouched, with the fact that he really didn’t have enough bandages left anyway to wrap himself properly. The last few days hadn’t gone as planned. His body only seemed to hurt more as the days went on, making it hard to fall asleep and impossible to stay asleep. Either way he was completely drained.

Hunter sniffs shivering as he pulls his cloak closer, sweat dripping down under the mask as he walks. He was looking for food again. He had tried to make the sandwich last, he really did but leaving food out in the wild was bound to attract animals. Fighting squirrels for a sad, soggy crust of a sandwich really wasn’t worth it. Hunter had also attempted to go into town to find food but he found it crawling with scouts. Scouts that worked for Belos. Scouts who were posting his wanted scroll everywhere they could. Scouts that would turn him in before he even had a chance to redeem himself. Just the panic of getting caught and having to face Belos after everything he’d done.. Hunter decided it was best to just check the woods and hope for the best. Sure he wouldn’t find any sandwiches again but there at least had to be Slazberries or something right?

He had been walking for a good hour and much to his dismay he hadn’t found anything and another boiling rainstorm was approaching fast. At least that's what his- Er The Palisman told him. Hunter leans against the staff panting softly, his vision blurring and shifting around him. He was severely exhausted. Rascal tweets softly tilting his head causing the male to chuckle softly waving his hand.

“No no I got this.” The Palisman seemed unimpressed before it twitters again, flying up to help look. Hunter suddenly felt more grounded and aware as his eyes widened, his head snapping up. “D-Don't leave!” his voice was slightly desperate as he felt an immense wave of panic in losing his only friend. Hunter bites his tongue shamefully at the sudden outburst. He knew he shouldn’t get attached.

What would Belos think?

Rascal flutters back landing on his shoulder tweeting softly.

And yet Hunter let’s out a breath, relaxing his shoulders. The small bird nuzzles against the males cheek. Maybe he could talk to Belos and convince him otherwise about Palisman? I mean they really weren’t so bad right? Rascal was Hunter's.. Friend after all.

Maybe-

Hunter coughs harshly softly into his hand gritting his teeth.

“I think I hear a trespasser! ooooh! which means more friends for me, oh hoot!” He hears someone hoot happily. Hunter's eyes widened as he gasps slamming his back against a tree to hide feeling his head spin.

Oh Titan.

No one could see him like this!

So uncomposed.

A traitor.

There was no possible way for him to fight like this.

He peers out, narrowing his eyes, his vision slightly distorted and blurry before focusing. He didn't see any guards, odd. He lets out a strangled yell as something suddenly wraps around his leg, pulling him upward causing him to gasp in pain as he falls to the ground easily. Hooty smiles hovering above the male. Hunter grips his side in pain curling in on himself. It was the creature from a few days ago he took note.

“Hiya golden guard!” Hooty had heard so much about the prodigy from Lilith. He was supposedly a spoiled brat and nothing more. Belos’ right hand man. And yet?..

Luz had mentioned she had seen the boy out here in the woods.

Hooty tilts his head confused as he sees the blood stained young male.

Hunter grips his staff growling in pain and now anger, He quickly focuses his energy and zaps a few feet away standing.

“AH!” He shouts loudly as his side suddenly pulses badly from the small exertion. He clenches his teeth, gasping as he almost falls over, his vision blurring badly as he pants tiredly leaning heavily on his staff. Just that small spell alone was enough to exhaust him. So much for not showing his weakness to his foe.

He needed to get out of here, there was no way that he would win this fight. HIs head felt fuzzy and it was getting harder to focus. All he wanted was to sleep.

Hunter glances behind himself as the owl creature starts to move forward.

“Hey Luz will never believe-!” Before the demon could finish Hunter broke into a run away from the area. Lightning cracks overhead and the male gasps looking up to the sky before boiling rain starts to slowly drizzle down.

“NoNoNoNo” Hunter whimpers helplessly as he pants, closing his eyes tightly, his lungs burning. Why did everything have to be against him? Why did he have to end up here? Why did he have to ruin everything? He breaks into a harder run as he hears the creature call for him. No, he needed to get away. Get back to the cave. No one else could see him like this, what would Belos think?!

Just Get back to the cave.

Get back to-

*BAM!*

He slammed into something hard, knocking him back he stumbled before tripping over himself dizzily and finally falling over, wincing as his whole body flares with pain. His head swam slightly making him nauseous. He growls in pain and anger. What had he hit?

“Ow! what the heck?” A whined voice followed by a gasp “Golden Guard”

Hunter blinks back tears as he looks up, seeing none other than Luz the human standing there with a magic shield above her head protecting her from the boiling rain. The human had been walking the woods everyday since she saw the male. She didn’t understand. Why was he here in BonesBurrow to begin with? And why was he hiding in the woods? Had they been watching her? She needed to know.

Hunter's eyes widened.

No.

Anyone but her.

She’s the reason he was in this mess to begin with.

Another wild “witch” using forbidden magic.

He quickly stands almost falling over having to use his staff for support, his vision wavering as his head spins.

“S-Stay back Human!” He slams his staff down in some sort of intimidation although he was struggling to hold his composure. Luz stares in confusion and shock.

There stood the Golden Guard.

Bruised.

Bloody.

Shaking as he held his staff in a tight grip, almost scared.

The rain drips down causing him to hiss lightly. Hunter didn’t have time for this. He grits his teeth before coughing into his hand.

“Are- are you alright? -..What are you doing out here in the woods?” Luz asks softly, standing firm, narrowing her eyes at the male. Hunter takes another step back leaning heavily on his staff, her words seeming to echo. Hunter growls holding a hand to his head. Staying awake seemed to be getting harder and harder as his vision blurs again.

No he mustn't show weakness.

His breathing came out a bit ragged. “Look, let's get out of the rain.” To this Hunter's head snaps up in surprise, the motion making his vision swim. “I can help you” she extends a hand smiling, to which Hunter lets out a loud agitated scoff. He couldn’t trust her. He snaps angrily.

“I don't need your help!” The yell was followed by a loud intake of air as he staggered dropping his staff to which Rascal immediately flitters up tweeting worried. He tries to grab the tree next to him only to fall to the ground with a loud thump, his head slamming on the roots beneath him as his vision darkens. “Mm” he pants, feeling exhaustion start to take over.

He was so tired,

so cold.

His body felt so,

so heavy.

The noises around him seemed to fade.

Would it matter if he just rested for a bit?

He was useless after all.

No longer needed…

No one would notice..

Maybe he could finally-

“EDA!!!!” Hunter's head spun as the shout startled him. He peels his eyes open slightly, hmm had he moved, or rather was he moving? When had he fallen asleep? His vision blurred but he noticed the owl house coming into view feeling sleep start to take over again. No he couldn’t, not around the enemy. He needed to stay awake but no matter how hard he was struggling it wasn’t working. He pushes against the human slightly in a feeble attempt to get away.

Rascal flittered around the Human that held Hunter squawking worried. The Owl Lady runs in from the kitchen. Hunters eyes become too heavy for him and he slowly falls asleep much to his own dismay.

“What happened, did Hooty get into my apple blood again?-” Eda’s eyes widened as she sees Luz holding one of the Coven guards. “Why do you have that?!” Eda yells in distaste. Luz carefully lays the male on the couch, Rascal landing on his shoulder. Hunter groans slightly in his sleep. Luz carefully removed the mask, eyes widening before she quickly looks away gagging. She hadn’t been prepared for that. The young males left eye was almost fully swollen shut, blood stained his face slightly. There were a few scratches and burns on his face. A slash on his nose and a busted lip. But the worst was a giant gash under his eye, the area oozed slightly and was badly bruised.

Owl lady winces at the sight of the young male. “Yikes. King, get the first aid kit!.” There was no answer. Eda sighs heavily running out of the room to find what she needed.

….

When Hunter started to wake up he heard voices all around him, talking in a hushed tone. “Looks...Bad infection…..magic...but..” Only able to get bits and pieces of the conversation. He slowly peels his eyes open letting out an involuntary whine as his eye throbs from the action. He felt sick to his stomach as he shivered, his vision blurring.

“Oh good you're awake.” Luz hums. Hunter sits up almost instantly upon hearing the voice, letting out a loud growl of pain. He holds his side as it flares distressfully. “Hey be careful” she lays a hand on his shoulder to which Hunter flinches back slightly before glaring her down.

“I'm fine! Why am I here?” Hunter demanded angrily, his eye throbbing at the stress as he swats her hand away annoyed. His head still swam slightly thumping with every word. He remembered trying to run away, he didn't remember agreeing to come to the Owl House.

“Hey I’m just trying to help you” Luz snaps back slightly, frowning as she rubs her hand before pouting at the young males stubbornness. She had so many questions and by the looks of it none of them were going to be answered.

“Last time I checked I didn't ask for your help!” He retorts, breathing a bit heavily as he stands, a few beats of sweat dripping down his face. He felt dizzy and still rather tired but there was no way he could stay here. Luz frowns angry now, she says something under her breath in Spanish about stubbornness as she clenches her fists slightly before she lets out a sigh trying again.

“Look Hunter please you aren't well” Luz tries her tone trying to stay sweet but Hunter can sense her slight agitation with him. He had always been good at reading other people. Working for Belos over the years will do that to you. He always had to make sure to know exactly what to say and what not to say in front of the male. He wasn’t welcome there. He wasn’t welcome here either. It seemed he wasn’t really welcome anywhere.

“I’m doing just fine.” Hunter grumbles as he starts to open the door, clenching his teeth, feeling his legs wobble as he holds his side. Luz huffs loudly, the other witch couldn’t take care of himself clearly by the looks of it.

“Let us help you!” She grabs his wrist quickly to keep him from leaving but what Luz doesn’t expect is for the soft pitiful whimper to leave the male as he flinches back badly. The male to sharply turn around and back against the door in an attempt to get away from the female. The once great Golden Guards shoulders to suddenly start to shake as it slowly became impossible for him to catch his breath. Luz’ eyes widen and she let’s go quickly, her eyebrows furrow worried. “..Hunter?” She whispers softly not wanting to scare him worse. Hunter moves back quickly looking like a deer in the headlights, his back slamming against the door harshly as he shuts his eyes tightly. His body was shaking slightly as he pants a bit heavily.

Hunter could hear his heart racing and he felt like he couldn't breath. His hand moved to his chest as his heart pounded and he pants.

No no he couldn’t panic!!

not here!

not now!

And especially NOT in front of the human!!!

God did he have to be so!

so..

Weak!

Hunter chokes as he tries to breathe, tears starting to blur his vision, his hand gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

WEAK…

So useless!!

So—

“Oh how you disappoint me Hunter... “

Belos' voice echoed in his being. Hunter gasps loudly, wheezing as his eyes widen in a panic upon hearing the males voice.A few tears finally escaping his barrier and dripping down his cheeks. Luz watched as the Golden Guard lost all of his composure, seemingly trying to catch his breath as he shook. He looked terrified as he lets out a pained whimper. Luz couldn’t help but stare for a moment, stunned. Hunter looked… like a frail child. Nothing like how she had ever seen him. She sighs, slowly reaching out to which Hunter immediately recoils, putting his hands up shakily blocking his face, desperately pleading in terror as he sees his Uncle advance towards him.

“No No p-please I'm sorry Uncle! i-I can do better please i-!”

Luz gasps a bit softly in surprise. She’d never seen the male in such a state, she hesitates before putting her hand gently on his shoulder. Hunter inhaled sharply, eyes wide as he freezes looking up at the concerned human slowly starting to realize where he was and what just happened. He catches his breath steadily. The gentle physical touch being enough to bring him down from his panic.

“R-Right…” he breathes out looking down, embarrassed and angry at himself “a-another episode” his voice wavers as he blushes laughing nervously. Only having had a panic attack like this once before.. And let’s just say Belos was not happy and it did not help the situation he had been in.

Rascal tweets moving to the young males shoulder. Hunter gasps in surprise, before slowly smiling sadly at the small bird, carefully petting the Palisman. “s-sorry it won’t happen again” He sighs, keeping his eyes down as he apologies to the Human. This only made Luz more worried. “Just let me leave, it’s best for everyone” He felt so stupid having cried in front of Luz.

How Pathetic..

Hunter wipes his face as sweat slides down into his facial cut causing him to wince. He couldn’t help but wonder why the owl house was so hot anyway. He wanted to get back to the cool cave again.

“Hunter what happened to you?” Luz asks suddenly, to which Hunter's eyes widen slightly glancing up before looking quickly back at Rascal.

. “I-“ Hunter starts before going quiet biting his lip as he rubs his arm uncomfortably. He was embarrassed about everything but the human was bound to find out anyway, right? He sighs defeated.

“I messed up..

Ruined everything that I had- I just ..” he pauses looking angry “ I screwed up!” he snaps as he takes the wanted poster from his pocket practically throwing the crumbled piece of paper at the human feeling dizzy, he grabs the door for support. Rascal flies up tweeting anxiously. Hunter sighs heavily “I tampered with forbidden sources. I lied. I spoke out of turn. I failed the Emperor and when you fail. Well. you outlive your usefulness, although he does want me alive which means maybe i still have a chance to redeem myself” he couldn't help but laugh painfully as he shrugs “But anyway just do what I assume you will. Turn me in and -“ Hunter stops as Luz stomps her foot

“Belos in such a monster!”. Hunter flinches at Luz’ sudden anger in slight shock looking almost worried before he shakes his head at himself.

“Wait-What? No- no I failed, it's my c-consequence he’s just doing his job. Belos is a great emperor. If I hadn’t tampered with wild magic none of this would have-” Hunter was cut off by a loud scoff from the doorway

“Kid that dictator is no hero” Eda frowns sadly rolling her eyes. Hunter looks over wanting to argue but he doesn’t, this was Eda the owl lady after all. And anyway Belos was just a merciless man that's all… right?.

Yeah.

This was normal.

Hunter screwed up and needed to be punished. All normal parent and kid things.

And yet his mind wandered back to the night.

When Belos attacked him.

When he had tried to..

Hunter's hand moves to his abdomen to where he was struck as he looks a bit distant.

“N-no but he-..he cares” Hunter's voice was angry and didn't sound all too convincing. He steps back stumbling feeling a bit hot, “uncle just, just-” his uncle's icy stare flashed in his mind. Hunter shudders slightly looking down before he nods, sighing. “Right.. right ”

he was nothing to his uncle now..

He would have to redeem himself all over again to be in his uncles favor,

“It’ll be okay” Luz’ voice was soft as she started to guide him back to the couch, noticing him stumble slightly trying not to use her for support. “You have a place here for now” she offers

“I don’t want a place here” Hunter mumbles in annoyance to which Luz pouts.

Hunter sighs, leaning back on the couch with a frown looking away. His body felt a bit numb and sore all at the same time. He was tired, so tired. He notices Eda point to the kitchen causing Luz to sigh standing.

“I’ll get you some food while Eda takes a look at your wounds” Luz smiles, humming as she claps her hands.

“Wait what?” Hunter nervously glances at the Owl Lady gulping.

[pine-lark]

Ooh trap him somewhere either very hot or very cold?? :D

Oh.

Oh.

This is a perfect excuse to write an old daydream from my childhood. Well, there's two-- Arion on a grill and Arion in a box. I chose the box for this one but I may be tempted to write the grill at some point. I haven't written The Box before now because it doesn't exactly... fit with the plot of the actual story, but I mean...

Alternate Rescue AU, coming right up, Anon. (Also sorry I'm like, infinitely late haha. School threw me into a hell pit and I've been recovering. I'm back now ((though I'm not sure for how long, things might change in a week or two... we'll see.)) For now, I'm working on a lot of Arion stuff that will hopefully pop up within a few days! Cheers!)

CW: Tiny whumpee, some blood, cold/hypothermia symptoms (duh), cages/referenced captivity, briefly implied forced nudity from said captivity, brief reference to a past fever and resulting vomiting, referenced/implied physical abuse, water/rain/storms/being submerged in/splashed with water, thoughts of dying (of the "I might die" and "Am I dead?" and wishing to be put out of misery type), crying, (thinking about) needles, short (kind of) graphic description of a bird being run over, brief religion references

-

His legs still ache from running.

Arion sits in the cardboard box he found on the side of the road, huddled in the corner, shivering in the dark. Although he tries to clamp his jaw shut and stop it, his teeth chatter and his shoulders quiver. It feels like the frozen autumn air has grasped him entirely in icy claws that shake him violently in an inescapable grip. It reminds him of being trapped in Heston’s hand, shaken, body tossed in every direction until his head pounded and his eyes watered.

It’s colder outside than it used to be in the garage. But it’s better out here. No one can hurt him here.

As long as they don’t find him.

He rubs his hands over the goosebumps on his arms, hoping to warm them up and calm down the wild pain buried deep in his skin. As he does so, blood smears along the path he touches. It’s still gently creeping out of the series of cuts etched into his forearms. With it, the image of Heston’s glinting eyes surfaces in Arion’s memory. He buries his head in his shaking knees with a wet sniff. But he’s done it, he reminds himself. He’s escaped. Finally. Chewed through rope, slipped through an unlocked door. Heston's gone. For now.

Please, please don’t come looking for me.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. He jumps. It sets off an echo of shivers all the way down his spine as his hair stands on end.

A raindrop falls on the cardboard roof. Then another, and another. Thunder claps harshly overhead.

Arion shuts his eyes tight, bites back the frustrated tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He curls up tighter, hugging himself, doing all he can to keep any scrap of heat he has close to his body. A storm might just do it. Might just kill him. A storm means wind. Freezing wind. And freezing rain. The last thing he needs right now is rain. It can’t rain. He presses his body closer to the cardboard wall, knowing it might not be standing there much longer if it rains.

And it does. It pours.

He sees the rain splash into the road before him. The storm swiftly grows. It’s ferocious and feral and cruel. The temperature around Arion drops. His tiny body shakes uncontrollably, as if it weren’t his own. It reminds him of the terrifying fever he had, long ago, in the confines of his red cage just weeks after being taken from his home. He’d been throwing up and twitching and having the most horrible, vivid dreams (on the occasions that both Heston and the illness let him sleep). The fits of shivering drove him mad, the endless teeth-chattering and flashes of uncomfortable warmth and sticky sweat made him feel even worse. It's like that, he thinks. Except, now, as he shivers, he’s unbearably cold.

An involuntary whine fights its way out of him. When he swallows, his throat feels stiff and achy. Snot runs profusely down his lips and no amount of wiping it away with his bleeding arms is helping it slow. Water has thoroughly and entirely drenched the cardboard, at this point. Has crept through the floor and the walls, and, gradually and persistently, has started to drip through the sagging ceiling. For a moment, Arion remembers he has toes, and that they’ve been numb for awhile now. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, his feet haven’t felt like anything either, and when he tries to move his fingers, they only twitch. They feel heavy and prickly. He feels prickly all over. Like Heston had shoved a thousand frozen needles into a thousand different places all over his body. It hurts to breathe. There’s no way to get warmer. Nothing to hide under, not even something as decent as clothing. No way to escape, nowhere to run to, even if he had the energy left to try. He lets out a miserable sob.

And then the ceiling falls through, in a blur of collapsing cardboard and splashing waves of water that crash over his head and the rest of his body.

Arion tumbles out of the box, drenched. He coughs up water through jittery movements. For a second, he chokes on a mouthful, and he briefly he thinks he'll never breathe again, before his chest jerks and with another cough, the water falls out of his mouth. He tries to get his arms and legs under him, to stand or even crawl, but his limbs fail him and he crumbles face-first back to the harsh surface below him. The rocks mixed in the road’s tar are sharp. They cut deeply through his nose and cheek and the shoulder that followed his face in the fall. Arion winces against the fresh, sharp pain and the beads of blood that begin to form where he’s been hurt. His breaths come in ragged heaves.

He sniffs. Tears drip from his eyes. He lays helpless in the middle of the little road, in his mind begging to no one that a car doesn’t come along and crush him. Under any other circumstance, he’d love to be put out of his misery. But he’s seen a bird been run over before. Under a truck’s tire. And the memory makes his stomach churn. Flattened face, open stomach, popped like a bubble in a stream.

Briefly, Arion thinks of himself in place of the bird. He thinks of the smear of red underneath his empty, open eyes. He thinks of the way the headlights might look as they would suddenly appear right in front of him. The horrid, mind-numbing honk of a horn. The image he creates in his mind of those headlights, his last moments, is vivid. It’s so vivid that he thinks it might be real, or maybe hypothermia is setting in and beginning to ruin his mind.

It’s just his imagination, he thinks.

And then he smells exhaust from a car.

And the screech of brakes.

And for a second, whilst his body is numb and bright white light is all he can see, he thinks he might be dead.

“I swear, if I keep stopping my car for every mouse that sits in front of it, I’m never going to get anywhere.”

That voice drifts from the car stopped in front of him.

Not dead, then.

Almost, he thinks.

“Can’t help it though. What else am I supposed to do, run them over? Just vet instincts, I guess. Huh, Jasper.” There’s a meow in response. Arion’s breath hitches. The voice says, “Me-ow. I know, I know. I’ll be right back.” A car door shuts. Then there’s heavy wet footsteps. Boots clopping over puddles and asphalt. Panic floods Arion’s chest as a shadow cuts through the blinding white light from the vehicle. The outline of a human lowers, kneels in front of him. His breath stops. His mind goes blank.

“What…”

A moment passes. Something touches him. He flinches hard, but trying to run isn’t an option. His body is completely, entirely, wholly exhausted and far too numb to move more than flailing back a couple inches.

“Oh, geez, that’s-- not a mouse. Okay.” Her head turns in a way that Arion can see her face. A young woman with red hair, watching him with a warm but frantic gaze. “Okay. Okay okay. Oh, God, you’re injured pretty bad, little buddy. Your arms are all… cut up. That’s not good. Um.”

Arion stares blankly ahead. Suddenly, freezing to death isn’t something he feels like putting too much effort into avoiding.

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” the girl continues. “I’m gonna bring you into my car where I can see you better, alright? Then I can help you. It’s gonna be okay. Here. I’m picking you up now, ‘kay?”

The feeling of a warm hand washes over his body. It’s both terrifying and incredibly welcome. The sting of cold seems to seep out of his skin, albeit very slowly. Quickly, though, burning prickles replace whatever comfort the touch brought him.

“Oh, you’re freezing, little guy. You must have been out here for a long time. That can be really dangerous… I’m glad I found you. I’ll get you all warmed up in the car.”

Arion whimpers against the hands that carry him to somewhere warmer, where he hears the faint, deep sound of a large beating heart. For a second, he wonders if this is God. And then the car door opens and creaks, and the girl curses under her breath, and Arion remembers he’s an atheist.

Still, as the stinging in his warming skin subsides, the warmth of her hands starts to feel… nice. If his mind were still intact (instead of shattered into vague, useless fragments as it is now), Arion would have done anything and everything to get away from any human or other predatory beast in sight. But with his head swimming, he leans into her touch, and compliantly accepts the soft feeling of some kind of cloth being wrapped all around him.

Words are spoken to him, but he can’t listen. To him they sound broken up and blurry as the insistence of sleep becomes more desperate in the back of his mind. As he gets warmer, his muscles relax, and his eyes get droopy. His vision darkens, and the girl’s voice hushes.

Just before he drifts off into a far overdue, deep and restful sleep, he thinks to himself, vaguely, that he hopes this human is different. He hopes that when he wakes back up, it won’t be in another cage.

-

Tag list because this ended up being a full drabble:

(Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tag list. No hurt feelings! I know it's been a long time and if you've lost interest that is A-Okay, friend)

(Also, if you'd like to be added or if your username's changed, let me know!)

@whumping-every-day, @deluxewhump, @sola-whumping, @haro-whumps, @inaridriscoll, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @kiretto-laorentze, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @ahorriblebimess, @whump-me-all-night-long

[fruitcoops]

Hi! If u have any time, I would love to read some fluffy Coops hurt/comfort! Maybe Remus having a nightmare about Greyback?

I can, yes! For those of you wondering why I didn’t continue the Greyback audio series despite a couple different asks: someone kept coming into my inbox and bothering me about progress, and I got tired of it. I write for fun, and if the story isn’t flowing I generally work on something else for a bit until inspiration strikes. Constantly asking (like, three times a day) about a fic will not get it out faster.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares, past injury, and self-deprecating dream talk (briefly)

Greyback was out of the league, and rumors had begun to fly about a possible court case. Remus had received hundreds of texts, emails, and DMs from people expressing their condolences—his old teammates had contacted him more in the past 48 hours than they had in literal years.

And he was so unbelievably tired.

Hattie rumbled against his front and Sirius was solid and warm behind him, curved in a protective parenthesis against the endless unanswered messages. Upon Remus’ request, he had taken his phone and put it on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboards; anyone who wanted to talk to Remus would go through Sirius, first. He couldn’t think of anyone that mattered who didn’t have Sirius’ phone number.

“Are you still awake?” Sirius murmured against the nape of his neck. Remus nodded silently. “Do you want to take some melatonin?”

“It’s alright.”

Sirius shifted and pulled the blankets further onto their shoulders; Hattie wiggled up until her face was out of the sheets, then sighed heavily. “Do you want to talk?”

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling shaky and untethered. He had only caught a passing glance of Greyback at the conference, staring him down across the lobby until his handlers took him away and left Remus alone with the media. The look in his eyes was almost murderous. “Just don’t let go.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he closed his eyes, matching his breaths with Sirius’ until his world narrowed to the heartbeat against his shoulder and Hattie’s fur in his hand. No aching feet, no pounding head, no verge-of-tears clog in his throat—just Sirius, just Hattie, just them in their bed and the whole world locked outside.

“We’re going to be okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sirius moved and a small pocket of cold lodged behind Remus’ knees. “Re, I knew what happened before the story came out.”

“But know there’s…”He waved a hand in the air. “People. Cameras. So many people trying to contact me all the time, and I’m tired. I haven’t really been here for you.”

“Remus.” Sirius tugged on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, but kept their sides pressed together. “You don’t have to be here for me right now. It’s my job to be there for you while this is going on. Besides, I’m used to dealing with media and nosy people.”

Remus exhaled slowly. “Thank you for taking my phone.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“Still. You could’ve said no.”

“You have enough on your plate already, mon loup.” Sirius trailed his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair and he closed his eyes. “Sleep. I know you didn’t last night.”

“I slept a little bit.”

“Yeah, for about two hours.” A gentle kiss pressed against his cheek. “Sleep.”

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, letting the tension drain from his muscles and allowing the tsunami of exhaustion to wash through in its place. His brain still ran at a million miles per hour and he could feel the beginnings of yet another headache—though who was he kidding, the last week had been a constant headache—but he focused on his heartbeat and breathed in the familiar scent of their bedroom.

Remus felt himself slipping, and suddenly all he smelled was sweat. Sweat and fear and the spongy plastic of the mats sticking to his cheek. He couldn’t feel any pain, but the terror of someone’s hands on his body bolted all the way to his core. Pressure on his thighs as the person’s knees pinned him down; pressure on his back and a palm by his shoulder blade; pressure, so much pressure, on one joint until it gave out and Remus was falling.

He was cold, colder than any ice bath, and gasping for air.

He won’t love you. He never did. Nobody will ever be able to tether you for long. He’ll get tired of trying.

“Please,” Remus begged as the roaring wave came up behind him. A blurry face appeared ahead, with cold eyes and a razor-sharp smile. “No, no—”

Fenrir wouldn’t let go. He was trapped like a fish in a net, struggling and fighting against the harsh grip until his eyes flew open and someone was talking right next to his ear and it was too much too much too much—

“No!” His elbow slammed into something soft and the warmth across his chest disappeared. “Get off me!”

Bedroom. He was in a bed, in a bedroom. In his bedroom. It smelled like lavender and laundry detergent. Hattie was on the floor, carefully sniffing his hand and watching him with huge gray eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the last of the nightmare to tremble through him.

A hand brushed against his arm and he flinched, teeth chattering despite the warm room. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” The mattress dipped as Sirius sat up and crossed his legs, sitting patiently and rubbing one rib.

Remus’ mouth went dry. “Did I hit you?”

“Just your elbow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hit you.”

“Do you want to take a look?” Sirius asked, his voice soft. Remus blinked rapidly and shifted to face him; he lifted the edge of his sleep shirt and gestured to his ribs. “See? No marks. You didn’t hurt me, just surprised me.”

“Part of me wishes they never found that video,” Remus said. The words tumbled from his lips—he had been choking them down for days now, but he was too tired to hold them in anymore. “I wish nobody ever knew except you and me and him.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s fair.”

“It’s stupid. He deserves what he’s getting.”

“He does.”

Frustration bubbled in his chest. “Then—then I have to choose one, right? He deserves what he’s getting and I deserve to move on and his name should be dragged through the mud, but I just want people to leave me the fuck alone.”

His shoulders folded in and he pressed his forehead to his knees; there were no tears left, but that didn’t stop the shivering that made his stomach hurt. “Can I touch you?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” Remus leaned into him, laying both his legs over one of Sirius’ and curling up like a barnacle against his side. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Re, this isn’t dumping stuff on me. This is communicating how you feel, and Heather says that’s a good thing.”

“Heather isn’t here.”

“When’s your next appointment?”

“Monday.”

Sirius gave him a squeeze. “I’m not a therapist, but I can hug you until Monday if you want.”

Remus laughed a little—there wasn’t much humor in it, but at least it was there. “That sounds pretty nice, actually. I’m going to take a shower and then make some tea.”

“It’s a mint with honey kind of day?”

“Yeah.”

Forty minutes later, when Remus was mostly dry and bundled in his most comfortable sick-day clothes, he went downstairs and found a steaming mug of mint tea with honey waiting on the coffee table. Sirius smiled and patted the couch as the opening credits of Avatar began. It felt…well, it felt almost normal.

[21burritoseavey]

Like Everybody Else - daniel seavey imagine

a/n: I hope you like this, i didn’t want to make it too sad lol. Also, kinda random but how many of you use :), :( or :/ in texts? cos I do. Let me know what you think.

Song: Lennon Stella, Like Everybody Else

Run fast, run away, run straight into the loneliness

It isn't only home I miss

 “How's tour?” Y/n asked excitedly, taking a seat on the cushioned floor next to Anna. 

 Daniel smiled gently, “It’s...great.” Daniel spoke gingerly. “It would be so much better if you were with me” He continued easily. 

 “Aww, Dani” Y/n’s cheeks flushed bright pink at his sweet words, and she giggled timidly. 

 “Aww, you two are just the cutest” Anna said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Him and Y/n chuckled lightly on opposite ends of the FaceTime call. 

 “How are you two doing then?” Daniel asked with a tight smile. 

 “We’re doing great! Keri’s gonna take us snowboarding tomorrow with your family!” Y/n spoke positively. Daniel’s eyes lingered fondly on Y/n’s. He happily relished in the feeling of love that played in her toothy smile and soft gaze. 

 Daniel’s blurry, muddled mind cleared as memories of past family adventures emerged at the sight of innocent kids playing in the distant snow from out the window. The snow fell as gracefully as feathers. 

 Daniel turned back to his phone after what seemed like ages. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re having so much fun.” He said quietly. “I miss you guys so much.” He breathed, his voice slightly wavering. The girls didn’t notice the slight sadness etched in his voice. He rushed to end the call, not wanting to fall apart in front of them. “I gotta go. I love you guys!” He rushed out before hanging up. He tossed his phone to the edge of his bunk and set his face in his hands morosely. 

 Like the night all my friends got together

Heard about it afterwards

Didn't think was gunna hurt so much

Daniel trudged out of the interview room tiredly. His bandmates followed close behind with faces full of energy and voices dripping in excitement. The boys’ brand-new freedom allowed for tons of new adventures in the unexplored town and while the other guys almost sprinted out of the building, Daniel wanted nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and tapped Y/n’s name on messages nearly unknowingly, like it was muscle memory. “Daniel, come on, we’re waiting outside.” Jonah called gently from a few paces away. Daniel lifted his gaze and let a small smile play on his lips as he spoke. ��Yeah, just a sec.”

 “Hi” He typed quickly, shuffling his feet slowly toward the elevator. His screen illuminated after a few seconds. 

 “Hey:)” Y/n responded. Daniel’s tense body relaxed at the simple message from his girlfriend, and he let the corners of his lips pull upwards to form a faint smile. 

 “What you up to?” He continued. A moment later he received a photo from Y/n and opened his hesitantly. The image loaded to reveal Y/n with a couple other friends of theirs. The dark atmosphere sparked his memory and he remembered Oscar’s birthday party. Their happy faces shone bright even in the nearly non-existent light of the club. Daniel’s smile faltered at the sight of them and he couldn’t help but feel a great amount of envy swallow his mood. He wanted them to be happy, but he wanted to be happy too. 

 “Daniel,” Jonah whispered sharply again. It was only at that moment that Daniel realised he had barely moved from his initial spot, and he chuckled lightly at his friend’s serious expression. He jogged over. “What’s got you so glum?” Jonah asked teasingly as they headed into the empty elevator. He turned back to see Daniel truthfully upset and his expression quickly broke. “What’s up, man?” He asked earnestly, setting a comforting hand on Daniel’s back. 

 “Y/n...and the others...” Daniel said simply, dropping his gaze to his pink sneakers. 

 Jonah looked a little bewildered. He narrowed his eyes, “What? What do you mean? Did they do something?” He rushed out. 

 “D-don’t worry about it.” Daniel dismissed with a gentle shrug. He averted his gaze to the sign above the door and watched it light up silently as they reached their floor. 

 Why if I'm doin' so well

Did I build a wall between me and the world?

Daniel was sitting up on his bunk bed, leaning against his single pillow with his legs stretched out and ankles crossed lightly. He was still dressed in his outfit - too tired of even changing into something comfier. He stared blankly at his Instagram timeline on his phone, scrolling mindlessly through photos etched with fun and adventure. The high, creaking noise of the door swinging open shot Daniel out of his faint trance, and he looked up expectantly. 

 “Hey, the guys and I are going out to dinner? Wanna come?” Zach asked, making his way further into the narrow hallway of the tour bus. Daniel shook his head lightly. 

“Nah it’s fine” He muttered as casually as he could. He felt a swell of emotion wash over him unexpectedly.

“You sure? You said no last week as well.” Zach asked, peeking a brow at the boy across from him. 

 “Yep” Daniel said quickly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He pulled a tight smile, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Zach nodded gently, turning away towards the door, but just before he came to it, he looked over his shoulder one last time to Daniel. He let his eyes linger on his downcast eyes lit up by the screen in front of him before walking forwards and shutting the door behind him. 

 Daniel sighed in relief and dragged his palm over his face tiredly. He kicked off his shoes and watched them drop carelessly on the floor. He tugged the throw blanket at the foot of his bed closer and pulled it right up to his chin tightly, letting his eyes linger to the dark night sky aglow with city lights. He glanced at his cheery bandmates sauntering out of the bus and onto the footpaths with nothing but joy in their step. Daniel wanted to feel like them too, more than they could ever comprehend. 

 Been drilled in my head forever, be better, turns out

I'm just like everybody else

 Daniel burnt the midnight oil often. He usually found daytime band rehearsals too overwhelming to focus. His gentle piano playing broke the serene silence of the night, coaxing a beautiful, soothing melody until it was interrupted by the wrong note, caused by the slip of his finger. Daniel huffed deeply, resting his head aggressively on the keys in annoyance. It produced a muddled sequence of notes and Daniel felt the vibrations buzz through his head. He lifted his head, slouching back on the bench. He finally felt a great swell of anxiety drown his mind. The previous, harsh critiques from Randy reverberated in his head continuously and he couldn’t get his mind to stop spinning with self-doubt. 

 Daniel sighed deeply. He bit his lip in an attempt to stop his frustrated tears from pouring down his face. He looked around the empty and gloomy rehearsal room and let it all go. He hid his face in his hands tiredly while he cried. The dull ache in his heart was all he could think about, but he merely let himself feel the pain he thought he deserved. A few long minutes later, when Daniel thought he’d cried all the tears left in him, Daniel lifted himself up stiffly from the piano. He rubbed his temples gently before flipping the sheet music to the next page and continuing. 

 Don't even go near a mirror, it’ll kill ya

Trust me, you don't wanna see yourself

“Guys” A crew member came back into the dressing room. “You’ve got three minutes.” He reminded before rushing out into the hallway again. Daniel turned back to the mirror as he adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt again. 

“Does this look alright to you?” He turned to Jack, pointing to his black and white suit. 

“Yeah,” Jack laughed lightly. “It’s fire...for the five - hundredth time” He joked, “why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Daniel started, glaring over his shoulder to Jack again. “Maybe it’s ‘cause we’re going to a red-carpet event.” He said nervously. 

“Don’t sweat it, dude. We’ll be fine.” Jack reassured. 

Daniel nodded. His gaze persisted on the smudged, full length mirror standing in front of him. In truth, it wasn’t just his appearance he was worried about. It was also his talent. The thought of being in the presence of A list celebrities and artists he greatly admired sent everlasting shivers down Daniel’s spine. 

Fuck the noise, It's too late, It's the choices

Now I don't even wanna be someone

 “Dani.” Jack called gently from across the table. “Daniel.” He said blankly after a moment. 

 “Daniel.” Zach’s hand slammed hard on the table causing a loud thump to echo through Daniel’s whirling mind and he looked up from his downcast gaze to his bandmates cluelessly. “It’s your turn” Zach said, gesturing to the Monopoly board set on the table. 

 The dim light of the lamp casted a warm glow to the lounge room. Daniel sat lazily with his legs tossed on the coffee table. Daniel’s face broke into a soft smile. “Oh right. Sorry.” He chuckled. He leaned over, picked up the dice in one hand and rolled it. 

 “You okay, man?” Corbyn inquired honestly, eyes flickering to Daniel.

 “Yeah...you haven’t really…been here tonight.” Jonah asked carefully. His face was brimming with concern. Daniel’s gentle smile faltered, and his eyes wandered nervously before landing on his bandmates again.

“Y-yeah, yeah. I’m just tired.” He shrugged hesitantly, “don’t worry,” he added. He dropped his gaze back to the board and rested his chin in his hands. 

 That's nice, champagne, what a shame, It doesn't work on me

So don't go wastin' your money

Everybody in this room is too hard, too pretty, I'm tired

I just wanna be nobody

Daniel sat awkwardly at a circular table in the fancy, high end restaurant. The cacophony of polite chatter and clattering of fine cutlery filled his ears and he could barely focus on his own table’s conversation. “Daniel.” The sound of his name being called had Daniel diverting his stare to the older man opposite him. His sharp, strong features only complemented his staid personality. 

“Yes.” Daniel spoke as elegantly as he could. He tried not to let his nervousness peak through his calm facade and he wiped his slightly dampened forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Your managers over here tell me you’re quite the song writer.” He stated the faintest hint of a smile present on his lips. Daniel’s face flushed with nervousness. He cleared his throat with a slight chuckle and dropped his fork onto his plate. 

“I try my best.” He grinned. “But yea...I really enjoy it.” He finished shyly. He washed down the tension flooding his body with a sip of his champagne. 

The older man glared at Daniel before honestly saying, “you know, this opportunity is extremely selective. We only pick one applicant a year.” Daniel glanced at him expectantly, trying to ignore the tightening twist of his stomach. “There are many artists that enjoy writing.” He finished. 

“I understand-” Daniel tried but he was interrupted. 

“He’s a great writer, take it from me” Randy intervened swiftly. He shot a glare to Daniel before leaning his elbows on the table to converse gravely with the other man. Daniel reluctantly focused back on his nearly full plate - he barely ate because of his anxiety. He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. 

What made me think I was special? I'm not special

Turns out I'm like everybody else

This song sounds exactly like 5SOS

They are just a like 1D

Their music sounds the same

Daniel typically took criticism with grace and modestly, but this time was different. The rims of his eyes were red from glaring at Instagram comments under his music announcement post for almost one hour straight. His fingers readily hovered over the word ‘reply’, prepared to sincerely explain how different his band’s songs were and how much work went into producing them. 

In the back of his mind, Daniel couldn’t help but believe their hurtful words. He set down his phone on the floor to the side in an effort to stop his mind from whirling out of control. He drew up his knees in embarrassment and hid his face against them tiredly. He let his anxiety-stricken face relax and tears flowed gently down his face. 

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 5.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings For This Chapter: Gory Descriptions, Shoddy Medical Work From A Non-Professional, Mentions of Suicide, Character Mentions They’re Ready To Die 

TagList- @ayyyocee​​​​​​​​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune​, @imaforeigner​​​​​​​​, @yeonkiminnie​​​​​​​​​, @stories1907​​​​​​​​​, @ppersonna​​​​​​​​​, @brilee64​​​​​​​​​, @gooplibrary​​​​​​​​​, @vivpurple7​​​​​​​​, @xjoonchildx​​​​​​​​, @brightwingr5​​​​​​​​, @yaniposts22​​​​​​​​, @rjsmochii​​​​​​​​, @taeslittletiger​​​​​​​​, @pjmcth​​​​​​​​, @bts-chub​​​​​​​​, @kpoppingthempills​​​​​​​, @kim-ji-hyeons-world​​​​​​, @jikooksgirl19​​​, @yoong-i​​​, @ruinsofangels​​​, @absolutefantrash​​, @chiminies-noona​​, @eclectically-esoteric​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

A/N: A super big shout out to my resident nurse forever @youarejesting​, she’s the absolute greatest and I’m really grateful for her help!

The drive to the warehouse was silent apart from the sound of squealing tires and Jimin's heavy breathing. His eyes were screwed shut, sweaty hand gripping at yours as it rests on your lap. You can hear Namjoon's lips smack together as he whispers under his breath. The tires squeal loudly before turning onto the deserted road of the warehouse.

In the distance, as the sun rises you can make out Hoseok's SUV. The warehouse doors were swung wide open and you squeeze Jimin's hand as Namjoon slams on the brakes. Jimin’s eyes snap open before wiping his hands on his pants. Through the windshield of the Escalade you can see splatters of blood on the dirt path into Jeongguk’s famed warehouse and your stomach begins to roll.

Hoseok was nowhere in sight and your heart stops for a fraction of a second before you’re shoving open the car door and jogging out. “Y/N!” Hoseok screams and you take a deep breath before jogging into the warehouse.

The stench of blood has your body faltering backwards, your eyes straining to see in the dark wooden repository. Then you see it, Jeongguk laid out on the ground, blood pooling around him. Hoseok above him shirtless pressing his black t-shirt onto Guk’s body. “Oh my God.” You mumble before running over to them.

Jeongguk has a cold sweat, face pale as his eyes stare up at the wooden rafters above him. Black hair stuck to his face like it’s been glued and you can hear Jimin curse loudly behind you. You fall to your knees, hand caressing his sweating face before looking up at Hoseok. His eyes are puffy and red, he’s been crying for his little brother. “Noona!” Jeongguk slurs as a smile breaks onto his face. 

His voice is hoarse and you take in a deep breath before looking down at him. You can’t find it in yourself to answer him as you take over for Hoseok putting pressure on his wounds. You can save him, you have to. “Get the car ready, we have to move him.” You tell Hoseok who in turn sighs gently.

“He’s been bleeding for almost an hour, he’s not going to make it.” He whispers in your ear before sobbing gently. 

“Yes, he is. He’s going to make it. Go do as I said.” You whisper fiercely as Namjoon’s hands grip under Hoseok’s armpits before he hauls up his body without a word. You can hear Jimin sob loudly before he’s crashing onto his knees beside Jeongguk’s body. The knees of his pants get caked in blood as he runs his hand over the youngest’s forehead. “What’d you do?! Kookie, you fucking idiot.” Jimin whispers before putting his hand over the black t-shirt as it soaks in his blood. 

Jeongguk gives a quiet laugh before closing his eyes. He coughs gently before cringing and gasping for air. “Noona?” He whispers trying to lift his hand to try and grab your arm. 

“Don’t move, Guk, please.” You whisper as Jimin peels back the shirt before crying harder. His eyes screw shut, before he presses harder on the wound taking over for you.

“Am I going to die now?” He asks before licking at his lips, he coughs gently before looking back up at the ceiling. 

“No! You’re not fucking dying! I’m going to help you.” You tell him as your nasal passages begin to burn with raw emotion. Guk cringes, a short breath invades his lungs before he finally grabs your wrist.

“Noona. It’s okay. I’m ready.” Jimin presses down harder on the wound as he bites his bottom lip.

“No! You aren’t! Stop talking!” You seethe to him before your eyes become blurry with tears. You look up, eyes blinking rapidly to see clearly before you spot the workbench of tools Guk uses. Standing up on shaky legs, you drag yourself to the iron table before swiping your arm over your face. You whine gently as you peruse the tools, he has nothing to help stop bleeding. You wouldn't expect him to in his line of work but you had wishful thinking. 

“How deep is the cut?” You ask your husband who doesn’t hear you over his own wailing. 

“Car is ready!” Hoseok yells into the warehouse.

Namjoon enters, hair absolutely disheveled as he rushes over to Jeongguk. “How deep is the bleeding?!” You yell out in hopes someone will hear you.

“Deep! You can almost see his fucking guts!” Jimin screams back to you as he stands up. Your jump on your toes, the shock beginning to set in before you eye the clamps on the iron table. You turn your head as Jeongguk’s body begins to writhe on the floor. 

“Call Doctor Song!” You yell to Hoseok as he opens the car door. Quickly, your hands grab the clamps before looking around. Your teeth find the skin of your bottom lip, peeling some off before taking in a deep breath. You have to save this kid. You fucking have to.

“Blowtorch. Where’s the blowtorch?!” You scream loudly as Hoseok runs behind you with his phone pressed between his face and shoulder. He rushes past you towards the chains that are attached to the wall before digging through them and throwing you the torch. Kicking up dirt off the floor, you jog back over to the younger man.

“Okay, okay.” You mumble before setting the clamps down on Jeongguk’s legs. 

“What are you doing?” Jimin mumbles before sniffling. You ignore him as you fish into Jeongguk’s hoodie and pull out his bottle of cognac. The cap goes flying off and you can hear Hoseok mumbling into the phone on the other side of the warehouse.

“Guk. You gotta tell me what to do. You’re medical, you need to help me.” You tell him as you douse the clamps with the alcohol. 

“You’re wasting my alcohol.” He chuckles to himself before wetting his lips with his tongue. 

“When I say, lift off the shirt.” You tell your husband, he stares at you before pushing his black hair back.

“You can do this, Kitten?” He questions before looking at your stomach. 

“It’s not the first time.” Many times over the years you’ve had to help out the crew whether it be that Jeongguk was not there or he was the one hurt. But, he was never this drunk and willing to die before. You feel lost but you can’t let it swallow you. Your eyes flick to Jeongguk as he begins to cough again, harder and weaker this time around.

“Now.” You say to your husband. He lifts the shirt and your stomach rolls at the deep wound. Blood lazily traipses over the sides of his body as the pressure is released. 

“I’m sorry Kookie.” You whisper quietly before dousing the wound with the cognac. He chokes on a breath before groaning. You shower your hands with the alcohol before discarding the bottle. 

“Noona. You owe me for that bottle.” He mumbles to you and you chuckle gently before nodding. “I’ll buy you another one.”

You light up the blowtorch, before setting it down on the floor. With a shaky hand you grab the clamps and run it through the flame. “Jeongguk, tell me what I’m doing.” You mumble to him before meeting his eyes.

He shivers before gasping gently, “Heat up the clamps.”

Your bottom lip purchases between his teeth before heating up the clamps until they turn an orange tint, the metal radiating heat. “Put it where I’m bleeding out.” 

His instruction makes you swallow thickly, you can feel your mouth salivating out of sheer queasiness. Jimin looks down at the wound before clearing his throat. “Bottom right.”

You lean over the wound before pressing your lips into a straight line, you whimper before looking at the youngest as he shuts his eyes. “Just fucking do it.” He whispers before clenching his teeth.

You pull the clamps away from the fire, the metal glowing red before shaking out your limbs. You whine gently before groaning. “Okay. Okay.” You whisper to yourself, trying to will yourself to press the hot clamps into the large cut. 

Namjoon grabs your wrist as you whimper before dipping the hot clamp into Jeongguk’s wound to cauterize the veins, a second feels as if it is forever, before Namjoon is pulling out the clamps. Jeongguk screams loudly, feet lifting off of the floor. You cringe before apologizing numerous times to the younger man. His body shivers as he shuts his eyes. 

“Don’t pass out. Stay with me.” Jimin tells his younger brother as he runs his fingers through Guk’s hair. 

“Am I bleeding still?” Jeongguk asks through clenched teeth, Namjoon covers your eyes before peaking into the wound and shaking his head. “No.”

“Get me to the fucking hospital if you want to save my life so badly.” He mumbles before his body stills. Jimin takes off his shirt before pressing it to the wound and looking at everyone.

“Hey, Guk?” Jimin calls gently to the youngest before tapping his cheek gently. Jeongguk makes no movement before he’s being hauled off of the floor by Hoseok and Namjoon. 

“Get him to Park Hospital. I’ll take Namjoon’s car.” Jimin says to them as they exit the warehouse. He wipes at his face before looking up at you. Your body falters back before you’re laying on the floor, eyes dazed up to the wooden rafters above. 

“Kitten?” You hum gently as you close your eyes, hands still shaking gently as you clear your throat. Then it sets in, quite like it did a few years ago when you took care of Yoongi’s wounds. Your body shakes before a sob rips from your throat. 

“Okay.” Jimin whispers before your body is being picked up by his arms. He coddles you to his body before kissing over your forehead. “Let’s get you home. You and the baby need your rest.”

You lean against the door frame, staring at Jeongguk’s sleeping form before rubbing your hands together. He had been brought back not too long ago and you’ve been watching him sleep for quite some time. You sigh gently before sipping the ginger tea Mirae had made for you. He looks so peaceful as he sleeps but you know just how tormented he is when he wakes.

You enter the room before sitting in the armchair next to the bed. Watching as his eyes shift quickly behind his closed eyelids. You put down the tea before crossing your legs, hand running over your lips before you let out a small sigh. There was a time where Jeongguk reassured you during your time of need, being a shoulder to lean on. And now, through all of your guilt and your own selfishness you left him to wallow in his own self pity without taking care of him. You close your eyes before running your hands over your face.

A groan emits from his sleeping body and you’re quick to look up before pressing your lips into a straight line. “Noona?” His voice is hoarse and weak and it makes you whimper.

You stand up before sitting at the edge of his bed and running your hand over his tattooed arm. “Do you want water?” Your fingers brush his long hair out of his eyes as he nods slightly.

You grab the water bottle from the side table and crack it open for him. He lifts up before groaning loudly and falling back onto the bed. “Take it easy. You’re not going anywhere.” You whisper to him as he grabs the water bottle from you. 

His eyes find yours, before he grabs your hand. “I’m sorry I’m worrying you.” 

You shake your head at his words before rubbing your thumb in soothing, circular motions. “You need to stop drinking, you need to come back to reality Kookie. I know it’s so hard to see her around you but you need to stay with us.” He closes his eyes before drinking the water again.

“I’ll stop drinking.” He whispers before putting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “We have another baby coming soon. I want you to be around for them.”

He takes in a sharp breath before closing his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I’ll shape up.”

“You were there for me once when I needed to be found. You were by my side supporting me and I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you when you find yourself again.” He grabs at your hand before squeezing it tightly. 

You have so many questions for him, so many things you want to say but you only find yourself asking one. “Why’d you cut yourself so deeply, did you really want to die that badly?”

He clicks his teeth before sighing, “I didn’t cut myself. There was someone in the warehouse that I was going to torture and I was too drunk to make sure he was shackled properly. He got me and he got away.”

You widen your eyes at him before his bedroom door opens to Jimin. “Who was in the warehouse?” You ask before looking over at your husband. “One of the Ims men. He stole a shipment not too long ago.”

“You’re telling me you took it upon yourself to put an Im in one of our warehouses without an order?” Jimin pipes up, nervousness creeping into his voice. Jeongguk flinches before nodding.

“Yes. While I was drunk and now he’s on the loose.” Jimin pulls out his phone before cursing loudly, the room falls silent as Jeongguk attempts to sit up against his headboard. 

“Namjoon, there’s an Im running around that needs to be taken care of before he goes and tells them what Jeongguk did to him.” He hangs up the phone before narrowing his eyes at his younger brother. “You better hope Namjoon finds him first. Or I’ll have your head. Kitten.”

Jimin holds out his hand and you sigh gently before standing up and walking over to him. His hand lands on the flat of your stomach before slamming the door shut. Whether or not the Im is found. Hell was going to freeze over, you can feel it.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

i think i’ll just collapse right here, thanks

Prompt: blurred vision

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt

Fandom: Grimm

hi i’m very tired and stressed so there is a high chance this might be very bad but oh well this is all it’s gonna be. hope maybe you enjoy anyway?

Nick wakes up that morning and immediately knows that he’s sick. He’s achy and his head hurts and he’s chilly. But that’s the extent of it, and it’s really nothing so much as a small annoyance. Nothing to skip work over. 

At first, that assumption had been correct. It’s a paperwork day, and a little discomfort never stopped anyone from filling out the required boxes and initialling on the dotted line. But as the morning wears on, Nick starts to feel worse and worse, and even the benign task of paperwork starts to feel incredibly daunting. 

The overall achiness of his body is about the same at eleven o’clock as it had been when he’d woken up, but his head is absolutely pounding now, and he’s shivering so hard his handwriting is hardly legible, but he feels himself sweating, too, which is a terribly uncomfortable sensation.

Still, he tries to focus on his paperwork, but finds he can barely read it, let alone keep filling it out. His vision is blurring, and the letters all smudge together. He blindly signs the papers, as close to the signature lines as he can. His hand is still shaking, though, and he knows Renard will be on him about his awful penmanship later. But that is far from his most pressing issue, so he continues on with his haphazard signing. 

Around noon, he starts to feel really bad. He can’t even pick out the signature lines on his paperwork now, and he sets down his pen, hearing it rattle against the table for a second as his hand gives an especially violent tremor. His head is still pounding, feeling like it’s getting worse with each passing minute. And if he’d been cold before, he’s absolutely freezing now, and he wraps his arms around himself in an effort to warm up. This is despite the fact that sweat is still dripping down the back of his neck. I probably have a fever, he lets himself think, for the first time. 

--

A minute, or quite possibly an hour, later, Hank looks up from his own paperwork for the first time all day. He’d been focusing hard all morning, and now his reward has arrived: it's twelve-thirty, and he’s going to head out and get a sandwich from his favorite shop. 

He looks over to Nick, who is looking down at his papers, apparently as deep in concentration on them as Hank has been for the past four hours. 

“I’m gonna grab a sandwich,” he says, frowning when Nick doesn’t look up at him. “You wanna come?”

Nick blinks, processing Hank’s words as fast as he can. After a few seconds, he says, very quietly, “sure.” He’s never been less hungry in his whole life, and Hank’s mere mention of lunch has sent his stomach churning, but if he says no Hank will ask why, and then he’ll realize Nick’s sick, and it’ll turn into a whole thing, which Nick really does not want. 

“Let’s go,” Hank says, picking up his wallet. “I’ll even buy yours, too.”

Nick gives an almost imperceptible nod, then stands up. Hank is already heading towards the doors, eager to get to his lunch, and Nick quickly steps to follow him. 

He’s not four steps into his walk when he trips over a box that he hadn’t seen, and he looks down at his feet for a second in confusion. How had he missed that? 

When he looks back up, everything is blurry. Granted, it had been blurry before, but nowhere near as bad as this. Everything he sees is just light and color, all of it blurring together so much that he can’t pick anything out. 

He sees one vague shape approach him, and then it speaks to him in Hank’s voice, but there’s a whooshing sound in his head that makes it impossible to hear what he’s saying. Oh no, he thinks, because this cannot be good, and then his legs start to shake underneath him, and he wants very much to call out to Hank, but a sudden spike of nausea deems that action unwise, and before he can think of some alternative method of alerting Hank to his distress, he’s collapsing to the ground. 

--

Nick wakes up on the uncomfortable and immediately recognizable material of the break room couch. He’s absolutely freezing, and there’s something cold and wet on his forehead which is definitely not helping matters. He reaches up a hand to move it away, but someone grabs his wrist, and he looks up blearily, recognizing the vague, slightly blurred shape of Hank.

“You have a fever, Nick,” he says, putting Nick’s hand back down on the couch. “And I know you’re probably freezing right now, but your body temperature isn’t. You need to leave that cloth where it is. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s going to make you feel better.”

Nick doesn’t like Hank’s words much, because they mean he is going to have to continue being cold, but he trusts Hank, so he listens and doesn’t try to move anything, noting with some distress that his body feels frankly awful, besides simply feeling cold. He groans, vague memories of earlier in the day spilling into his head. He’s sick. Really sick.

“I’m sick,” he observes, brilliantly, closing his eyes to avoid looking around at the blurry, nauseating colors of his workplace.

“I know,” Hank replies, his voice soft and kind. “And we’ll be having a talk about coming in to work sick when you’re feeling better,” he adds, his voice still kind. He places a far-too-cold hand on Nick’s cheek (which, little can he tell, is far too warm). “You’ve gotta take better care of yourself, man.”

Nick sighs softly in response, too sick to formulate a true reply. “Thanks,” he decides is an appropriate reply. He takes a deep breath, feeling himself teetering on the edge of sleep.

“Feel better,” Hank says, noticing Nick’s tiredness and patting him on the shoulder as he pushes himself up from where he’s been kneeling on the floor next to the couch. 

“I’ll try,” Nick murmurs, and then he drifts back off to sleep.

thanks for reading this!!! i hope you liked it :)

[therainroguefanfiction]

❉ 139 Dreams (Kazuki Juumonji) Aftermath

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 1,415 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Juumonji Kazuki ☁

World: Anime, Eyeshield 21 ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You stared at Monta and Sena skeptically as they tried to persuade you to go running with them. You weren’t exactly the most athletic person in the world and you tried to avoid running (or physical activity in general) as much as possible. Being friends with people on the football team made that slightly difficult…

“Come on, it’ll be fun to the Max!” Monta grinned, grabbing onto one of your arms.

Sena nodded, grabbing your other arm. “Just this once?”

You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Sena when he used that puppy dog face. “Fine. But don’t expect much! I’m not a runner!”

The two boys nodded enthusiastically, chorusing an “Of course!” before dragging you to the football field where Hiruma and the others were waiting.

“You’re late! Ya-ha!” Hiruma laughed in a psychotic manner, holding two automatic guns and firing them into the air.

“So-Sorry!” Sena cried, shaking slightly at the intimidating blonde.

Hiruma moved his eyes to meet yous before his mouth pulled up in a grin, showing off his extremely sharp teeth. Clearly, he was plotting something, and it sent a shiver up your spine. “Yosh! Let’s get going!”

As the group started to head off, you missed the light blonde haired male that stared at you, his cheeks harboring a small tinge of pink.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You wheezed, your chest aching painfully as you attempted to continue walking. Your feet were aching and your legs felt like jello; it was agonizing.

Everything had been going well – at first. You were able to keep a nice pace alongside Eyeshield and Monta…. until Hiruma intervened, causing the two rivals to have a race to see who could get back to school first, leaving you in the dust without a second thought.

You ran and ran and ran and ran, pushing yourself harder than you ever had before in an attempt to keep up with them, but they slowly faded into the horizon until they vanished from your sight altogether. And to make matters worse, they had left you behind in an area that you had never been in before.

So, here you were, barely able to stand and feeling like you were about to pass out, lost in an area you had never even seen before. You thought that, maybe, if you pushed hard enough you could manage to find a familiar area and be able to make it back without a problem. But fate was not on your side. No matter how far you walked, you couldn’t find a single familiar street. It was all foreign to you. You were lost and going in circles.

Finally, after two hours of trying to return home, you stopped, falling to your knees in a wide alley before hitting the cold cement. Despite how cold it was, it wasn’t enough to cool down your burning body. Every part of you felt like it was on fire. You were covered in sweat and couldn’t move a single inch. Your lungs burned as you breathed in and out heavily, eyes squeezed shut.

It was beginning to get dark, the sun having just set. The sky slowly became darker, the street lights coming on in a poor attempt to imitate the sun.

You knew you were screwed. You were too tired to move and you had left your cell phone at home that morning. You were probably dehydrated, too. You didn’t know the area, so you weren’t sure if anyone would mess with you or not. Even if they did, there was no way you’d be able to fight them off, not in the state you were currently in.

It may have just been the pounding of your head or the fact that your heart had split and gone into your ear and legs, but you could swear you heard the sound of rushed footsteps.

Was this your end?

You felt pathetic. You couldn’t even touch the football team and, instead, were laying in the middle of god knows where unable to move. Sure, you were un-athletic, but this was just downright pathetic!

Only half of your tired mind was conscious, but you managed to pick up the sound of your name being called. It was faint, sounding as if it was very far away. You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to; your throat was bone dry.

Through blurry, half-opened eyes, you managed to see a pair of shoes appear in front of you before you felt yourself being picked up. You grunted in pain at the movement before finally letting the darkness claim you.

Why did you ever listen to Monta and Sena?

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

A groan passed your pale lips as your eyes slowly peeled open to stare at a bright white ceiling. Had you died?

Remembering what had happened, you shot up from the bed you were lying on, instantly regretting it when pain shot through your legs and back, making you groan in pain as your hands tightened around the sheet.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be moving.” A pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, gently pushing you back into a lying position before resting on your forehead.

Your whole body was in pain, but most of it was focused in your feet and legs. After lying still for a few moments, you slowly opened your eyes. You had to blink a few times before your eyes could focus properly. You were surprised to see just who was standing at your side, waiting for you to wake up.

“Juumonji..?” You questioned, voice cracking; you felt so thirsty.

He nodded lightly, removing his hand from your forehead. Was it your wild imagination… or did he actually look worried?

“What… What happened?” You groaned, attempting to sit up again.

He handed you a glass of water, his hand against your back to help you stay sitting up. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

You nodded, taking the glass from his hand and swallowing about half of the cold liquid that sat in the glass. It coated your dry throat, making it feel tight before the feeling started to fade. You were more thankful for water at that moment than you had ever been in your whole life. “Thank you.”

“You’re really not a runner… are you?” He muttered, rubbing your back lightly.

“Che. I tried to tell them that.” You scoffed, looking away from the male at your side. You felt so embarrassed by the whole situation.

“I found you passed out in the middle of an alley. You were breathing pretty heavy, and your face was red.” He mused, staring intently at you.

You scratched your cheek with an index finger, looking anywhere but at Juumonji. You had to admit, you were surprised that he was the one to save you. Normally he was the kind of guy to not care about anything or anyone, must less a pitiful person like yourself. You let a sigh pass your lips at the thought.

“I uhh… I’m glad… that you’re okay.” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away from you. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide the pink spreading across his cheeks.

You blinked in surprise, resting your palm against his warm cheek. “Thank you, Kazuki.”

The pink deepened at your touch and he slowly rose his hand to cover your own. “I-It was nothing!”

You grinned, pushing yourself forward until your lips reached his own. The action made you blush, but it was un-noticeable due to the flush of redness from your run. Juumonji shook his head and decided that a small peck wasn’t a big enough reward to satisfy him for his deed. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. Without hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours, pushing you back onto the bed and crawling on top of her, careful to balance his weight to keep from hurting your already sore body.

The aftermath of your decision consisted of you barely being able to move for the next three days, having to rely on Juumonji every time your legs began to buckle. It was hard having to go through school while still being so sore, but with Juumonji at your side, you managed. It was a painful experience, but you were happy that you had gone through it. The experience itself may not have been very fun, but the result of it was amazing – it was something you would value for years to come.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[sanktnikolais]

This has been bugging me for the past week, and I just knew I had to write it. :<

Her legs gave out even before she could reach him.

           The aftermath of the war still hung heavily in the air, the stench of blood and smoke and earth invading Zoya’s senses, but her attention was solely focused on the boy lying on the ground just several yards away.

           And he looked deathly still.

           Zoya willed herself to stand up on her feet again and continued her way towards Nikolai. She ignored the panic that started to cloud the logical part of her mind as she crashed down beside him because Zoya Nazyalensky did not panic at the most crucial times in her life.

           But now, seeing the boy—the man—she had grown to love and care for so much for the past few years dying on the very land that he had protected with everything he had, Zoya realized things she did not want to admit out loud.

           “Nikolai,” she said, letting her hand come up to the side of his face to turn him to her. She tried to ignore how the lack of warmth of Nikolai brought her mind to a panicking mess. His pulse wasn’t there. He wasn’t breathing. “Lantsov, damn it. Open your eyes.”

           Too late.

           No, not yet, she told herself. She wouldn’t give him up just like that. She wouldn’t.

           Zoya gritted her teeth as she reached down to whatever was left of her strength to call upon the blue glow that was starting to form in her hands.

           Zoya’s putting her own life at risk too, she heard an all too familiar voice in her head as she remembered when she was once in the same position, back when she was helping a bunch of proper thieves.

           She doesn’t strike me as the type.

           You’d be surprised.

           Nikolai hadn’t doubted her capabilities. He never did. Even if she had at some point, she always knew he never did.

           Zoya slammed her hands on his chest, feeling his body react under the pressure of it. Nikolai’s body thudded back against the ground, and she put her fingers against the spot under his neck for a pulse.

           It still wasn’t there.

           “Damn it,” Zoya hissed as she gathered up her power once more. She felt her vision get blurry in frustration, looking down at the pale face of her king. “I swear to all the saints if you survive this, I’m going to kill you myself.”

           If he survived.

           She was beginning to feel desperate, Zoya knew, and her remaining strength was slowly dissipating into nothing.

           But she still refused to give up on Nikolai.

           There were still too many things she hadn’t told him yet. Too many things.

           Zoya tried to think about his optimism, how he had never seemed to fail to think that everything will be alright, that they would always find a way to fix the problems that came crashing to them.

           Because it was Ravka, the ever-more-bad-news-to-come-Ravka, and Nikolai was ready to lay down everything for it.

           Even his own life.

           She slammed her palms to his chest for the second time, and his body reacted once again. She waited a few agonizing seconds before checking his pulse again.

           When she felt that there still wasn’t, she gritted her teeth in frustration and anger. “Come on, Lantsov. You’re stronger than this,” she growled, clutching onto the collar of his undershirt in a fist. “Not like this.”

           Zoya knew that a third shock would be dangerous, even at the lowest intensity of her abilities. But she was willing to try another time, if it meant bringing him back.

           Especially if it meant possibly bringing him back.

           She started to draw from her strength again, but her hands had already started shaking and her whole body felt bone-tired. The blue glow in her hands was already too faint, too faint to be seen if one were to look even at a short distance.

           “No, not like this,” she rasped, staring at her still-shaking hands and hoping that if she willed herself hard enough, she’d be able to summon lightning one more time.

           But she couldn’t.

           It was too late. She couldn’t save someone important to her. Just like she couldn’t save her aunt back then.

           It was then she felt her face become wet, and she realized that tears had gone free and fell down in continuous bidding. The act had become strange to her, she didn’t remember when she last cried—she had steeled herself enough to any emotions that might affect her line of thinking and decision making.

           You’d give him up so readily?

           She heard Elizaveta’s old words in her mind suddenly, and she felt another wave of determination surge through her.

           Zoya clenched a fist and slammed it down to his chest. “Wake up.” 

          Thud. 

          “You’re stronger than this, come on, damn it.” 

          Thud. 

          “Damn it, Nikolai, Ravka needs you.” 

          Another thud, and her tears didn’t seem to stop from flowing. Please, not like this. 

          “Saints, I need you.”

           Her fist came back down one last time, and she released a sob that she had been holding on since she first saw his body from afar. The thought of completely losing him hadn’t crossed her mind even once before, even though she had sent him off to find a bride and she knew she would keep a far more distance to him than she had before, because she knew they’d still be who they were. The ones who kept each other marching.

           The king and his general.

           Sturmhond and the Storm Witch.

           Nikolai and Zoya.

           Now that thought hit her full force, and she absorbed the impact with everything in her. “Come back to me,” she whispered brokenly, resting her forehead on his chest, and continued to sob.

           He was gone. Nikolai, the one who fought tooth and nail for his country on the verge of falling, the one who always saw the good in everything, the one who understood Zoya more than anyone despite her rough edges and her sharp tongue, was gone.

           There were still things Zoya wished to say (admit), and she had hoped he would survive the chaos for her to be able to be honest to him. Even just this once.

           She loved him. She loved him more than she was willing to admit. She had been alright with the fact that she’d just watch him from the distance when he declared his engagement with the Shu princess and that Nikolai could never love someone like Zoya.

           It had been the thought she instilled in her mind, and she had hoped that after the war with the Fjerdans she’d be honest to him.

           But that time would never come. Not when—

           “—aints,” a soft rasp cut through the thoughts in her head, so soft that she thought she might just had been imagining things.

           Zoya snapped up in an instant, her heart in her throat, and blue eyes met with hazel ones.

           Nikolai blinked, his eyes looking a bit distant before sharpening at the sight of her. “Zoya?” he managed to say, and Zoya could only stare as felt her tears falling down her face again. His eyes flashed with worry, then he was slowly starting to sit up with a wince evident on his face. “Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

           All thoughts and restraints slipped from Zoya’s mind as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly, both of her thighs coming to rest on both sides of his hips as she settled herself on his lap. She heard him grunt a little, and felt his arms around her a mere second later, strong and comforting and warm at the same time, and she buried her face on the side of his neck. He smelled of blood and sweat and all-Nikolai.

           “I feel like I’ve been run over by a coach,” Nikolai said weakly, his arms tightening around her. “Did one just come by?”

           Zoya half-laughed and half-sobbed in his neck, relishing the familiar air of having Nikolai around her again. She pulled away a bit a few moments later, meeting his eyes again and that moment she knew she would never get tired of looking at them.

           “Hi,” Nikolai breathed, his brows slightly furrowed as his eyes searched her face. He brought a hand up, his thumb gently brushing her temple. “You look like a mess. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

           Of course he would ask her if she’s okay. Even though he had been the one who had been dead just moments ago, he’d always think of others before himself.

           Zoya didn’t know what came to her, she just knew that she was done holding back, that she was being selfish, and she just crashed her mouth into his. The air around her felt electric, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down her spine, and everything focused on the man in front of her.

           Nikolai was breathing. He was real. He was alive.

           A hand came to the back of her neck, and Nikolai angled her head to the side and kissed her deeper, the act so intimate that she felt her skin burn with want and need for him that she had suppressed for a long time.

           Only when she felt her face wet with tears again did she pull away reluctantly, her hands on the sides of his face and her forehead on his, as he felt his lips kiss their way to the corner of her mouth, and to her jaw.

           “You were dead,” she said, the words tasting bitter in her mouth, one of her hands creeping up to the back of his head and holding him closer. “You were dead. You weren’t breathing.” She paused as her breath got caught in her throat and another wave of sob threatened to hit. “You were dead.”

           Zoya felt his lips trail kisses up to her temple and lingered there, his other arm tightening its hold around her waist. “I’m sorry,” Nikolai murmured against her skin. “I’m still here.” He pulled away to look in her eyes. A hand came to cup her face, his thumb caressing the tears on her cheek gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

           “I love you,” Zoya blurted out, and Nikolai froze. “I didn’t realize how much until I thought I lost you—”

           His lips drowned out the next words she was about to say, and she just clutched him tighter instead and kissed him back with much fervor she could muster. They stayed like that for a long moment, kissing amidst the aftermath of the war around them.

           “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear that from you,” Nikolai said when they pulled away later, when the need of air became necessary. “I love you.”

           Zoya looked into his eyes and saw the raw honesty behind the tiredness of them, and she closed her eyes as she rested her forehead to his. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

           Nikolai chuckled, the sound warming Zoya all throughout. “My ruthless Zoya, I’ll always come back to you.”

[splendidlyimperfect]

An accidental hair-pulling incident during a fistfight leaves both Gray and Natsu with uncomfortable feelings about each other than neither of them are willing to face. But when Gray slips into depression and stops taking care of himself, Natsu has to step up, and they’re both forced to face the questions they don’t want to answer.

@ao3feed-gratsu​ 

Chapter Summary: Gray's overwhelmed, and Natsu is there to ground him.

Chapters (4/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Lucy Heartfilia, Erza Scarlet, Happy (Fairy Tail), Wendy Marvell Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Hair-pulling, Hair Brushing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Smut, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Gray’s bad at taking care of himself, Natsu calls him an idiot a lot, neither of them wants to admit they’re in love, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Gray’s bad at feelings and Natsu’s done with his shit

**TW for panic attack and very brief mention of suicidal thoughts

-----

It takes a second for Gray to realize that Natsu is kissing him. Suddenly, the ache in his chest is battling with a low, thrumming sensation in his stomach. He exhales sharply, and when Natsu moves to pull away, Gray quickly reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of his neck.

“Please,” Gray whispers, and he’s not sure exactly what he’s asking for. “Please, I need...”

“I know,” Natsu says, running both hands up into Gray’s hair. His voice is low and rough and Gray suddenly realizes that Natsu’s crying too. “I know.”

Then he’s kissing Gray again, hot and desperate, thumb rubbing the ache out of Gray’s temple as his other hand tucks Gray’s hair gently behind his ear. Gray can’t help the small, frantic sounds that flood out of him as he runs his fingers down Natsu’s arm and grips his hand.

“Hey,” Natsu murmurs against Gray’s lips. He tries to pull back again and Gray’s fingers tighten around the back of his neck.

“I can’t—please don’t—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Natsu reassures him, rubbing his thumb across the back of Gray’s hand. “I’m right here.” He presses his forehead to Gray’s, and despite the fact that they’re touching almost everywhere else, the small gesture feels almost too intimate. It’s terrifying, and Gray suddenly sits up, tugging at his hand and rubbing his face as a hot, dizzying flush creeps up the back of his neck.

Continue reading on AO3

“Gray,” Natsu says gently, refusing to let go of his hand. Gray’s never heard Natsu say his name like that. Everything is going blurry, the air around him suddenly far too hot. “Gray, look at me.”

“I can’t,” Gray chokes out, “I can’t, and—it's not... there’s...”

“Breathe, Snowflake,” Natsu says, taking Gray’s hand and pressing it to his chest. His heart thrums under Gray’s fingertips, wild and erratic and so alive. “C’mon, breathe with me.”

Natsu’s scarf is still around Gray’s shoulders and it itches, like pieces of broken glass dragging against his skin. He tries to pull it off, but he can’t feel his hands.

“Deep breaths,” Natsu murmurs, chest rising and falling under Gray’s fingertips. “You’re okay. It’s just you and me here, you’re safe.”

Natsu’s voice is soft and low as he runs his hand through Gray’s hair. Gray remembers hearing him talk like this once, only once, to a little girl who’d been caught in the crossfire of two warring dark guilds. She’d been hiding in a house that was about to collapse, and Natsu had surprised everyone by crouching down and coaxing her gently into his arms.

Gray’s in Natsu’s arms now, and he wants to feel safe, but he’s too hot and his skin is itching and the sound of Natsu’s voice is drowned out by the roaring in his ears. Everything’s blurry and he’s sweating, and he can’t breathe and—

“Gray!” Natsu’s voice breaks through the panic and Gray lets out a sharp gasp as he looks down at their joined hands. Frost stretches from Gray’s fingers up over Natsu’s arms, making pretty white patterns against his dark brown skin.

“Shit,” Gray breathes, trying to pull the magic back. It doesn’t listen to him, though, and it’s like he’s eight again, ice exploding around him and shattering the windows of Ur’s cabin because he can’t stop crying. “Fuck, shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Natsu reassures him, pushing a bit of his own magic against Gray’s until the ice melts and his skin is damp instead of frozen. Gray stares at the wisps of steam that rise up around them, following the complicated patterns as he tries his best to keep breathing.

~

Gray’s still shaking, but he’s breathing now, and Natsu pulls him close in relief, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay,” he says softly. “We’re okay.”

All the terrified tension in Gray’s body seems to melt away as he slumps against Natsu, letting go of Natsu’s hand and wrapping an arm around him instead. Gray’s fingers clutch at the fabric of Natsu’s shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him here.

“’m sorry,” he mumbles, but Natsu shakes his head. They’re touching everywhere, now, and Natsu’s afraid to let go. Gray’s shivering, even with Natsu’s natural heat and the scarf draped around his shoulders.

“We should find somewhere to sleep,” Natsu says gently. He could keep them warm with his magic; he learned a long time ago to make flames that didn’t hurt. But with Gray so far gone in his memories, it’s probably not the best idea.

Gray seems like he might argue for a second, but then he slowly nods against Natsu’s chest. “I don’t even know where we are,” he admits quietly.

“There’s a town pretty close to here,” Natsu says. “You think you can walk?” He’s expecting a grumpy remark or sarcastic comment, but instead Gray just presses his face against Natsu’s chest.

“’m tired.”

“I know,” Natsu says, running his fingers through Gray’s hair again. “When was the last time you slept?”

Gray doesn’t answer, and Natsu sighs. “C’mon,” he says, gently nudging Gray off him so he can stand up. He takes Gray’s hand and pulls him to his feet, refusing to let go. He's terrified that if he doesn’t hold on, Gray will run away again.

Gray looks like he’s going to fall over, so Natsu turns around and pulls Gray close. “Up,” he says, motioning for Gray to get onto his back. Gray makes a quiet, unconvincing sound of protest, but then his arms are wrapped around Natsu’s neck and his forehead’s pressed to Natsu’s shoulder.

Natsu looks up at the sky, quickly finding north and making a mental map of the area. Then he turns toward the town and starts walking, carrying Gray through the night.

~

Gray wakes up slowly surrounded by a comfortable warmth. He yawns, rubbing his face and squinting around the unfamiliar room. Then he looks down at the arm wrapped around his waist and realizes that he’s not alone in the bed.

Oh.

Gray stills. His shirt must have ridden up at some point during the night, and Natsu’s hand is splayed across his bare stomach. Every time he moves, Gray shivers, unconsciously pressing back against Natsu’s warmth. He drops his hand down to cover Natsu’s, torn between sliding their fingers together, or pushing Natsu off him.

“Don’t even think about trying to run away.” Natsu’s sleepy voice is muffled against the back of Gray’s neck, and he adds, “And don’t pretend that’s not what you were gonna do.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Gray.” Natsu pulls him closer. “I know you.”

Gray lets out a shaky breath, giving in and dropping his hand onto Natsu’s. His face feels hot, his skin is tight and uncomfortable, and he suddenly really, really wants a shower.

“’m not gonna go anywhere,” he insists, tugging at Natsu’s arm until Natsu relents enough for him to roll onto his back. Yesterday’s breakdown is slowly coming back to him, and he covers his face with both hands, groaning with embarrassment.

He’d told Natsu. He’d talked about his mom. He’d cried in Natsu’s fucking arms, which is just…

“Shit,” he mumbles.

Natsu sighs, pushing himself up until he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Gray. A charged silence fills the air between them, and Gray’s not sure what to do with it. A thousand thoughts race through his mind, twisting together so he can’t separate them and focus on one thing at a time. He grips the blanket tighter as the familiar panic starts to swell in his chest again.

Natsu’s soft, uncertain voice breaks through Gray’s racing thoughts. “Were you going to come back?” Gray looks up at Natsu, frowning, and the ache in his chest intensifies at the sorrowful expression on Natsu’s face. “To the guild,” Natsu clarifies. “To us. To… to me?”

Gray wants to say yes. He wants to promise Natsu that he wasn’t going to disappear, that he wasn’t thinking about ending everything because he just can’t fucking do this anymore. “I...” He can’t lie to Natsu. “I don’t know.”

~

A piece of Natsu’s heart cracks at the uncertainty in Gray’s voice, at the way he won’t quite meet Natsu’s eyes.

“Gray,” he says gently. Gray stares down at his hands, expression somewhere between heartbroken and exhausted, and Natsu suddenly can’t think of a single reason why he’s never told Gray how he feels. All the denial and name-calling and thinking about kissing Gray but hitting him instead – it all feels so insignificant next to Gray’s pain.

He reaches out and takes Gray’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Gray whispers, and he tugs half-heartedly against Natsu’s grip.

“Don’t,” Natsu says, squeezing Gray’s fingers and bringing his other hand up to brush Gray’s hair out of his face. “Please don’t push me away.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Gray whispers, voice so quiet that Natsu can barely hear it. “I… I can’t…” Natsu sighs, shifting closer and pulling Gray into his arms.

“Loving people is scary,” he says softly. “I get it. I loved Igneel more than I loved anything in the world, and he disappeared, and for the longest time I thought it was because of me. Maybe I didn’t love him hard enough, or I did something wrong, or if I’d just been better or smarter or…”  

Gray shakes his head against Natsu’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” he insists.

“And it wasn’t yours, either,” Natsu says, kissing Gray’s forehead. “What happened to you, to your parents, to Ur…” He trails off, running his hand up and down Gray’s back. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how awful it must have been.”

Gray doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull away, either, which Natsu takes as a good sign. They sit in silence for a while as the late afternoon sun pushes its way through the curtains and the sound of the city spills in through the open window. Gray’s breathing is calm and steady against Natsu, and for a moment, Natsu thinks Gray might have fallen back asleep.

Then Gray says, very quietly, “You kissed me.”

Natsu can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he holds Gray closer. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I did.”

~

Gray frowns, pulling back and studying Natsu’s face. He’d expected Natsu to deny it, or at the least get flustered, but his gaze stays on Gray, strong and steady. Gray can’t look away, even when his stomach twists like he’s in free-fall and his hands start to tremble.

“Why?” Gray asks. The question makes him wince as soon as it’s between them because it feels needy and desperate, but Natsu doesn’t laugh.

“Because I wanted to,” he says quietly. “I, uh… have for a while.”

“Oh,” Gray says, and he’s pretty sure he should say something else, but he’s not sure he can be honest the way Natsu is. Yesterday was already so much, and there’s a messy tangle of feelings in the space where Gray normally keeps his calm.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Natsu says after a moment. “It’s been… god, years, that I’ve felt like this, and then you left, and what if I hadn’t found you?” He looks at Gray, eyes dark and serious. “That whole week, when I was looking for you – I kept thinking, what if you were dead? What if you—you’d gotten hurt, or you…” Natsu swallows. “And you’re here now, and we’re both bad at saying this stuff, but I care about you and I want you to be okay.”

Natsu’s words sink under Gray’s skin, soothing the low thrumming sensation that’s trying to drive him back to the edge.

“I want to be okay, too,” he says.

“Then stop running away,” Natsu says, taking Gray hand and squeezing it. “Come back with me. Let me help you. Let other people help you. Please.”

Gray sighs, and when Natsu brushes his hair out of his face again, he leans into Natsu’s hand. The touch feels good – grounding and real. “I don’t know…” Gray groans in frustration. “It’s so much. There’s so much, and it’s just – I can’t sleep, and then I can’t eat, and I’m so tired all the time, and angry, and everything sets me off and it’s all so much.”

“I know,” Natsu says, shifting close to Gray again. “And you just bottle it up, then you either pass out or run away.” Gray wants to argue, but he knows Natsu’s right. “There are better ways of dealing with your shit.”

“Like what?”

“Therapy.” Natsu says the word so matter-of-factly, and Gray groans, slumping back onto the pillows. “Yeah, I know.” Natsu laughs as he nudges Gray over and settles down beside him. “But wouldn’t it be better than this?”

“Dunno,” Gray mumbles, shifting closer and resting his head on Natsu’s shoulder. “This isn’t so bad.”

Natsu flicks Gray’s ear. “You know what I mean, idiot.”

“Mm.” Gray sighs deeply, letting the warm contentment of being held by Natsu keep the ache at bay. It feels right, somehow. Safe. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“I’ll… try.” Gray looks up at Natsu. “Therapy, or… whatever.”

“Promise?”

The intensity of Natsu’s stare makes Gray’s cheeks burn hot, and he reaches out slowly, brushing his fingertips across Natsu’s cheek. “Promise,” he says softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Natsu’s ear. Natsu lets out a happy sigh, then tips his head, kissing Gray’s palm. Gray inhales sharply at the sensation of Natsu’s lips against his skin.

“Sorry,” Natsu says quickly as a pink flush creeps into his cheeks. “I didn’t mean—I know you’re overwhelmed and that probably wasn’t the best timi—“

“You talk too much,” Gray interrupts, running his fingers into Natsu’s hair. Natsu’s about to keep arguing when Gray tugs lightly, and the words dissolve into a quiet gasp. “That’s better,” Gray says, then pulls Natsu in and kisses him.

Everything broken inside Gray slides into place under the gentle pressure of Natsu’s lips on his. Natsu’s hands find their way to Gray’s shoulders and he pulls Gray closer, until they’re touching in as many places as possible.

It’s perfect and terrifying, and Gray lets himself fall into the feelings he’s been pushing away for so long.

“So… years, huh?” Gray asks eventually, trying to keep his voice steady as he tightens his fingers in Natsu’s hair again. Natsu makes a sound that’s somewhere between a growl and a sigh as he pulls Gray closer to him.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling Gray in for another kiss. “Years.”

“Me too,” Gray says against Natsu’s lips, and pushes him back into the bed to kiss him some more. 

[kd-holloman]

Green

My world had been black for as long as I could remember. I knew my family by my other senses. My father was the scent of grapes, the wiry texture of his beard, and the calluses on his hands. My mother was the smell of baking bread and the sound of her skirts swishing as she walked. Karolina always stomped wherever she went and Geordie always reeked of sweat and the stables when he returned home. 

I knew colors, but they meant different things to me than they did everyone else. Yellow was the scent of straw drying in the summer sun. Brown was the color of Karolina’s hair when she asked me to comb it, soft and silken beneath my fingertips. Red was the color Geordie’s skin, warm to the touch, when he spent too much time in the sun. But, ever since I was a little girl, green had always been my favorite. 

I hadn’t been any older than eight or nine when one of the vendors in the market had slipped us candy while my mother hadn’t been looking. It had been hard and smelled of the mint herbs mother used to make tea. It had been very sweet on my tongue, tasting strongly of sugar with the sharp bite of wintergreen. “What color is it?” I had asked Karolina around the candy in my cheek. 

“Green,” she’d said. 

Ever since, green had been my favorite color. 

As I laid on the witch’s table, a terrible, smelly something was boiling over the crackling hearth to my right. There was rough burlap-like strip of fabric wound tightly over my eyes, keeping the ointment smeared across my eyelids from spreading. 

My chest felt heavy, it was hard to breathe. I was afraid. 

My mother and father had gotten into a fight—one of their loudest yet—after I had tripped and fallen down the narrow staircase at home. I always counted the steps, there were twelve of them, but I must have missed one.

Father had forbidden my mother to take me to the witch's cottage, to which my mother had slammed something down on the table and shouted, “Enough is enough, William! I will not bury our child!” I had never heard her so furious. 

At my head, I could hear the witch. It sounded like she was crushing something with a pestle. Her voice was the sound of autumn leaves skidding across the cobblestones when she said, “We are ready.” 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Mother asked quietly. 

“If you did not think it would work, why did you pay me?” Her hands were rough as she seized my head with bony fingers, to keep my chin straight. “Hold still, child.” 

I did as she instructed. I gripped the wooden boards beneath me with a white-knuckled grip. What if doesn’t work?

When I asked Mother about the witch, she had told me not to get my hopes up. I had done my best, but hope was inevitable; She had planted the seed in my heart, I felt it grow and blossom. It was beautiful, but dangerous. It smelled like the poisonous plants at the edge of the wood, sweet and overly perfumed.  

I tried not to cough and turn my face away, overwhelmed by the scent of cloves and dirt. The powder the witch sprinkled over my face tickled where it brushed against my skin.

The witch began to chant in an unfamiliar tongue, moving around the table in a series of rhythmic stomps. The smell of smoke and burning plants followed her as she went. She made her way back to my head. 

A terrified squeak slipped between my lips as she grabbed my head between her hands and shook it softly. 

Her chanting grew louder. 

I could feel warmth radiating from her palms. It tingled, it prickling my eyes. It burned like a spilled cup of tea, hot and sudden beneath my skin.

Her chanting rose and swelled, her voice coming from somewhere deep within her chest, loud enough to hurt my ears. Her once soft and delicate voice became a roar, the same way thunder rattled the window panes. 

My eyes were burning, hot and cold at the same time. I shivered, feeling both feverish and chilled. My skin felt like it was tingling, the way my leg did if I sat on it wrong.

As suddenly as the chanting started, the witch stopped. “Sit up, child.”

I sat still as she unknotted the blindfold and pulled it from my eyes. I tried not to flinch as she dabbed the ointment from my eyelids. 

My heart was beating so fast that I felt like a fly had hatched in my chest. I rubbed my palms against my skirts while the woman worked. “Will I be able to see?” 

“If it worked.” The witch’s breath was unpleasant as it blew across my face.

“C-Can I open them?” 

There was shuffle as she stepped back. “You may.” 

I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not yet. “Mama, could you help me outside? I want to see outside.” 

She was at my elbow before I finished, her fingers familiar and gentle where it curled around my arm. Her muscles were tense beneath her skin, tight with worry. “Of course, my dear.” 

My stomach lurched into my throat as I slid from the table, but I managed to steady myself once my feet were on the floor. The scary thing about being blind was that you never knew how far you were falling.

“Careful now, Mary, the cobblestones are a bit uneven,” she murmured as she guided me away from the table. 

I shuffled after her, my walking stick long forgotten. When I felt the spongy texture of the grass beneath my shoes, I took in a slow breath. It shuddered on the exhale. “I’m nervous,” I said.

Her hand was soft where it touched my face. “Take your time, dear.” 

“What if it doesn’t work?” 

“Then, the witch will hang.” 

I didn’t wish ill-will upon the witch. She had been kind enough to treat my blindness for the price of one of our milking goats and a basket of freshly baked bread. I knew my mother wouldn’t listen to my reason. Father always said that his wife was a stubborn thing, forged from the same type of iron that her blacksmith father had used to make his living. 

I could hear the hope in my mother’s voice, “Go on, Mary, open them.” 

I sucked in one more steadying breath and opened my eyes. 

Color erupted before me, blurry and out of focus. I blinked several times until they started to spread and form shapes. The shapes soon became objects and I was unable to hold back my wonder as I shouted, “I can see!” 

Mother grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. When she looked back at me, she was smiling. Her face lined with tired creases. I touched her face, remembering the way it had felt against my hand for years and years. 

I pulled my hand back and looked at the moisture glistening on it. “Wet,” I said quietly. “You are crying? Why?” 

“I’m happy for you, dear.” 

I smiled back at her and looked past her to the thick forest bordering the garden of the witch’s cottage. “Everything is so bright and beautiful!” I walked, for the first time, without a cane to the forest’s edge. I touched something the size of my palm. I remembered the veiny underside, the smooth texture of the top, and sound it made when the wind blew. 

“Leaves?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at her. 

She nodded.

I ran a finger down the length of the leaf. “What color is this?” 

My mother seemed a little puzzled by the question, but she answered nonetheless, “green.” 

“Green.” 

A smile split my face, my heart was overflowing with joy! I couldn’t believe it! “Green? I love green!” 

Elation bubbled from the center of my chest, spilling into the air in the form of a laugh. I took off running through the field adjacent to the cottage, feeling the stalks of the grass pass beneath my hands. It smelled like a spring day and I was giddy with it. “Green!” I shouted to the sky. I spun in circles, watching the colors of the world blur again and again until I fell down. 

I sprawled out on my back, staring up at the sky. Blue. I remember Karolina telling me that the sky was blue, the clouds were white, the sun was yellow. Without being able to touch, I hadn’t fully been able to understand. Now, I knew because I could see!

“Mary,” Mother called from the witch’s cottage. “Mary, come back! We have to get home before your father goes into fits!” 

“Coming, Mama!” I laughed and rolled in the grass one more time. 

Green. My favorite color was green. 

[faangirl101]

Call girl, Part one) Mob!Tom holland x reader

CALL GIRL MASTERLIST

Mobster Tom Holland x call girl reader

Summery:  I worked for Tom holland. He wasn't my boss though. I worked for a huge illegal company in south london with prostitutes, or as other would say “call girls”. I really don't know how i ended up as one, it was just the only way to get enough money. In the end it was hard getting out of this kind of business. I was stuck with one of the most dangerous mobsters of london, of freaking england even. He had so much blood on his hands just the thought of it made me shiver. And i was his call girl. This was not going to end well.

WARNINGS: PLEASE READ THESE, post assualt, sexuel assualt, past rape, crying, bruises and bloods, Quite graphic, dont read this if you are a victim of sexuell assualt or is sensitve of it... Thanks!

)READ THE WARNINGS FIRST PLEASE(

Tell me pretty lies

Look me in the face

Tell me that you love me

Even if it's fake

'Cause I don't fucking care, at all

I woke up when someone stirred next to me. The light from the huge window on my left hit my eyes making me close them even harder. Fuck. The silk sheets rubbed against my naked body. This isn't unusual for me. This was pretty much my life now a days. I sat up with some difficulties thanks to the pain over my entire body. There was bruises on my wrists and inner thighs, my lower parts hurt as i moved. There was hickeys all over my body and bitemarks. Tom was extra rough last night. He claimed me until there was tears in the corner of my eyes. I enjoyed it sure, but i couldn't help being terrified of him.

Tom laid next to me on his stomach. He was peaceful when he slept, his light snores and dark long eyelashes fluttering down his pink cheeks. He wasn't dangerous then. I didn't want to wake him up, i didn't dare. On weak legs i was standing up at the edge of the king sized bed and dropped the silk duvet on the way up. The cold air made my bruised nipples stand out in attention. I tiptoed over the expensive rug. I was close to falling on my knees. I couldn't stand it anymore, i couldn't. I was exhausted. I was exhausted but i couldn't sleep. I just… I just didn't want to do this anymore, be a call girl. I wanted to go home. Tears was threatening as i hurried to the bathroom next to the room.

I could see truly how rich Tom was. Everything was shining in white and grey and black. The bathroom probably costed more than my entire rent. I saw myself in the mirror. My entire body was painting in blue, from yesterday, and green with a dip of yellow, from a last week. My lips was bleeding from being bit on to much. My mascara was running down my face, taking the tears with them. The cold water calmed down my pulsating face, letting all the depression and exhausted with mascara down the drain. I had to look good for Tom. I quickly combed through my messy hair with my fingers as I tried to make myself look respectable. “Doll?”, I heard Tom say and at one's I caught my guard. My entire body frozen in fear as I tried to swallow down the trembling breath colliding with my body.I  saw Tom coming closer in the mirror, standing behind me. His eyes traced my ruined body, a flash of something in his chestnut eyes….. regret? No that couldn't be it. “Do you need my service, sir”, I asked, my morning voice darker than usual. He hummed under his breath meeting my eyes in the mirror. His left eye was dark and swollen, some traces of blood trickling down his nose. He looked scary, terrifying. But being scared wasn't my job.

“Your face, si-i-ir”, I started, my voice shaking as i turned around. “You should have seen the other guy”, he said, like if he tried to light up the situation “and you look worse. I went a little to rough on you last night”. His finger slowly traced a bruise over my throat from when he choked me. I swallowed and knew he could feel the sensation. “I don't mind”, I fought the tears “sir”. He didn't believe me, his entire face was twisted in so many emotions. But he didn't say anything, he just mouthed “okay”. He was beautiful. I couldn't argue with that. After sex he would actually… care. I wasn't used to that… Maybe Tom holland wasn't so much of a bad guy as you would think.

You've been out all night

I don't know where you've been

You're slurring all your words

Not making any sense

“Tom?”, my heart was beating hard enough for my chest to break in half. He was leaning back against the wall in the hallway, breathing heavily. His face scrunched up in naucheus as he connected his fist with the wall in a loud smash. The shape of his fist was imprinted into the wall. I yelped at the action, catching his attention. He was drunk, there was no doubt. He tripped over his own feet as he made his way over to me. “Y/n!”, he threw his hands up in the air “i'm so happy, you're here… i think harrison is on a date”.  He whispered the last part, looking around himself even if you two were alone in the hallway. “You've been drinking?”, it was a statement but my voice made it sound like a question. He laughed, a lighthearted laugh making my heart skip a beat. “And why would you think that”, he clicked his tongue “you're pretty”.

I blushed violently and grasped lightly onto his arm. “Do you want to go to bed?”, I whisper as I start to lead him down the hallway. Tom don't seem to understand what's happening and he look behind his shoulder and then back at me.He shook his head and pursed his thin lips together in disapproval. But he didn't have enough strength to escape my grip as I practically pushed him down the bed. He collapsed, his head falling back onto the king size bed. “Lemme”, I begin tugging at his shirt, signalising for him to take it off. He brings it over his head with some difficulties as his locks get under the shirt. His chest is shining in a thin layer of sweat. When i usually saw his abs it wasn't in this situation. He would often just be bedned over me, slamming me into an orgasm. But now, it was like I saw him in a different light.  I yelped in surprise as he suddenly gripped my waist and brought me down the bed with him. “Tom”, I whispered, all the previous fear coming back. I know he wouldn't hurt me… but a lot of my customers have so I always took it for granted. But Toms hands didn't wander down my body like usual, they didnt start to unzip my pants. Instead, they laid me down before he rested his head on my chest. I knew he could feel my rapid heartbeat behind my breasts but i didn't dare to move. “M Sorry”, he slurred “i'm so tired”. My hand automatically started stroking his locks, saving the feeling of the soft hair between my fingers. Tom sighed, burying himself deeper between my boobs. I could feel his soft breath hit my skin, making goosebumps scatter over my body. I pressed a kiss on top of his head, immediately regretting it but…. Tom giggled, like a little school girl. “Can i kiss you”, the question was so out of the blue and startled me. Tom had set some rules for me when i'm in his service, do whatever he says and if it becomes to much, the safeword is red and… under no consequences kiss him. But here he was, demanding a kiss. But when i looked down his face, reminding me of a child at christmas morning…. i had to. I leaned down, pressing our mouths together in a feather kiss. Your lips were barely touching, like a kindergarten kiss, but it sent millions of butterflies down my abdomen. I thought he would deepen the kiss, turn me around and claim me, but instead he posited his face in the crook of my neck and sighed deep. “Goodnight Y/n” I sighed in return, closing my eyes hard. Dear god let him forget all of this in the morning.

'Cause I have hella feelings for you

I act like I don't fucking care

Like they ain't even there

“Get out”, he muttered, the dark circles under his eyes making his expression even more terrifying “get the fuck out”. I swallowed, feeling my gut twist up in pure fear. He would kill me, no doubt. This wasn't drunk giddy Tommy….. this was mafia mobster Tom holland… he would kill me in a instant. I was as good as dead. “Sir-r”, i tried to swallow the lump of anxiety flushing up my throat. “No”, he brought a finger in front of my face “this is where you zip it okay, i gave you three rules… one, you do everything i told you to. Two, the safewords has to be used if you need it… and three, never kiss me”. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand like in disgust. He was backing me up against the wall, i didn't even know if he did it on purpose “ And you broke my rules, i don't like when people don't obligate to me”.  He was close now, i could smell the lingering of last night's whiskey over his breath that hit my face. “So”, he began, his eyes flashing red “ i want you out, i'm going to call your company about a change in girls”. When his hand smashed against the wall next to me, it got too much. Flashbacks of cum in my mouth as I were punched blue, being thrown into a bathtub and raped in cold blood and men forcing their cock in me while their hands were tightly gripped around my throat flashed by my memories. I slid down the wall, my tailbone hurting of the sudden compact. I hugged my body, trying to protect it from the hands that were going to start flying in my face, the kicks that would break a bone or two and maybe even a tray of saliva spit at me together with the words “you disgust me”. But… nothing came. I stayed my place, my body's shaking and my sobs uneven. “Please”, i sobbed, my heart being hugged in a feeling of stress “please, don-t hurt me-e”. The room was quiet, other than my tears and racing pulse. I felt the shadow of Tom move lower as he crouched down next to me. “God”, he muttered under his breath “i didn't… please”. When his fingers slipped over my arm i pulled away from his touch out of instinct. “Please”, his voice broke “please, i'm sorry, look at me y/n”. I opened my eyes, it didn't help but thought since my sight was to blurry to see.

When i get my sight back i see him, his eyes filled with regret and empathy. “I'm sorry”, he covered his eyes with his strong hands, like if he wiped away tears. I knew he didn't though. Tom holland don't cry. “I'm going to get out now!”, I started crouching up on shaky legs, wiping the layer of snot from my nose “Sir, i didn't mean to break your rule, I'm going to leave”. I knew what would happen if i went back to the call girls penthouse. I would get a beating, that was for sure. A call girl upsetting their client was unacceptable. “No”, his hand wraps around my wrist but not rough at all “I don't want another girl. I'm just hangover. Please, stay for breakfast”.

I don't want another girl

I was smiling. The words warmed my heart in a way i hadn't felt for a long time. “Okay”, i mumbled, and hid the blush so close to escaping “sir”. He dragged me up in a short yank, me being suddenly on my feet almost pressed against his ribcage. “Please Doll”, he mumbled, his eyes wandering over my tears streamed face “call me Tom”.

)SEND A MESSAGE TO BE APART OF THE TAGLIST!(

[unicyclehippo]

Dina would be like “ I love you please kiss me” and Ellies the type of person to be like “AS FRIENDS OR..?” I swear lmao

jdkfjskhfhaksjs check this out it’s not exactly the same but ellie is equally stupid

//

‘hey george, thanks for getting me,’ ellie says quietly, following her friend into the garden behind greenhouse six. it’s an over grown tangle, which is only permitted because it’s where the squash monstrosity lives and grows and because it’s basically smack bang in the centre of the settlement, meaning if raiders ever did get to this point, they’re all already screwed. that’s ellie’s reasoning, anyway. ‘where is she?’

ellie scans the garden. beyond the shift and away of bodies dancing to the music that crackles from the radio, she picks out flashes of colour and detail as she searches intently for dina—the plastic lanterns, the fragments of broken CDs repurposed into glittering decorations, the overturned buckets and crates scattered around the room, the paint splattered over the wall in reds too close to blood for ellie’s comfort.

‘i don’t see—‘ ellie breaks off, lips flattening with displeasure. she skirts the room, not wanting to disturb the others and not wanting to be slowed down, and when she makes it to dina’s side, she takes frank larkin’s hand from where it has strayed to dina’s ass and squeezes until he yelps. when he tries to tug away, she helps him take his hand off dina, guides her friend behind her instead.

dina doesn’t seem to notice, or mind.

‘evenin’, frank.’

‘ellie,’ he greets her just as tersely. ‘mind letting go of my hand there?’

‘depends on what you’re planning to do with it, i reckon,’ she tells him, but after a moment she lets his hand drop.

rubbing at it, frank glares at her and takes a step back. ‘we were just dancin’,’

‘yeah and you know if she weren’t drunk as shit she wouldn’t give you the time of day. keep walking, larkin.’

‘keep being a bitch, williams,’ he mutters as he slinks away and dina—dina who has since draped herself across ellie’s back and started swaying to the radio’s safety reminder—perks up.

‘shut the fuck up, frank! shut up! don’t you call her a bitch!’

‘alright slugger,’ ellie sighs and she turns, hoists dina off her feet and just about carries her out of the garden party. a full minute of walking, dina refusing to help since ellie is doing such a good job of it, brings them to a bench and ellie sets her down on it, has to keep unwinding dina’s arms from around her neck. after the third time, ellie kneels and holds both of dina’s hands in hers.

‘you are,’ dina says, looking down at her with unfocused eyes, ‘like, you’re so pretty.’

‘thank you. how much did you drink?’

‘oh, like,’ dina’s head lolls to the side in an uncoordinated tilt as she considers the question. ‘a lot.’

‘okay then.’

‘are you mad at me?’ dina asks, trying to twist one hand free of ellie’s gentle hold. when it feels like she might actually hurt herself, ellie lets her go and she can’t find it in herself to be surprised that dina’s hand immediately settles on her shoulder, winding her fingers into ellie’s hair.

‘i’m not mad at you. do you wanna try walking again?’ dina nods and with ellie’s help she stands. ‘i’ll take you to your room,’ ellie tells her, which was a mistake because dina scowls and sits again, tucks her ankle around the leg of the bench so ellie can’t make her stand again. ‘oh my god,’ ellie breathes. rubbing at her forehead, she crouches again. doesn’t even bother trying to avoid dina’s reaching hands. ‘dina, what’s wrong?’

‘you’re mad at me,’

‘i’m not.’

‘if you weren’t mad, you’d,’ dina blinks, looking a bit unsure. ‘you’d take me home.’

‘i am going to take you home.’

‘ellie, ellie,’ dina brushes clammy fingers over her cheek, misses and nearly jabs ellie in the eye but then her palm settles and she pats once, strokes the tiniest bit with her fingers. ‘ellie,’ she whispers again, ‘to your home.’

‘do you want to come to my room?’ ellie offers, too tired to even bother deciphering what dina might be thinking.

‘i thought you’d never ask,’ dina teases, slipping forward on the chair. ‘also, i’m gonna puke.’

//

after ellie helps her to the garden bed, and studiously avoids listening to dina retch as she scrapes dina’s hair off her face and rubs soothing circles over her back, ellie more or less carries dina to her house and knocks until joel opens the door.

‘whoa, what happened to her?’

‘definitely not alcohol?’

a smile flickers at the corner of joel’s lips and then is gone. ‘got it. come on, i’ll get her some water, you get her on the couch.’

‘thanks, joel, you’re the best.’

he grunts.

ellie readjusts her grip on dina, grimaces when dina buries her face in ellie’s neck. ‘please don’t puke on me.’ dina mumbles something unintelligible and not in english and ellie rubs her back. ‘almost time to sleep, stay awake just a bit more, okay? will you do that for me?’

dina nods, maybe, and ellie crosses the room, eases her down onto the couch. she stops her when dina immediately makes to lie down.

‘joel’s coming with some water, stay awake a little longer.’

‘m’kay,’ dina slurs. ‘you’re taking care of me,’ she says with a little wonder, ‘that’s so nice of you.’

‘you’d do the same for me.’ ellie smiles down at her, smoothes a kink of hair back from her face. it’s kind of endearing to see dina like this, now that she’s passed the puking phase. she takes the cup joel hands her, nods when he pats her shoulder and leaves her to it. ‘here, dina. drink this.’

‘i—think i’ve had enough,’

‘oh now you realise,’ ellie mutters quietly, just to herself. more loudly, she says, ‘it’s water.’ dina turns her head away and ellie is tired enough to want to not push it but she’d rather dina not wake up with a hangover to top all hangovers so she persists, cupping dina’s cheek. ‘please, for me?’

dina’s eyes go suspiciously wet. ‘for you,’ she agrees, and chugs the water down, throws the cup to the ground. the plastic clatters a few times before rolling under the armchair across the room.

‘good call on the plastic, joel,’ ellie murmurs, again to herself. ‘good job, thank you.’

‘you,’ dina pauses, presses a hand to her chest and swallows down a burp. ellie hopes it was a burp. ‘you’re welcome. i love you.’

ellie’s heart lurches at the words, the least slurred of everything dina has said since she collected her, and she smiles to her like she never dares to when dina isn’t drunk, with all the tenderness and esteem and care she normally keeps carefully in check. dina’s eyes widen. ‘i love you too,’ ellie tells her. ‘go to sleep, okay?’

//

dina wakes ellie in the morning, smelling strongly of ellie’s shampoo and of half a tube of toothpaste.

‘hey,’ ellie grunts. ‘morning.’

Mmorning, hero.’

there’s an almighty crick in her neck and ellie groans, straightens from her seat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. she rubs at her neck, sighs with relief when it pops and she rolls out her shoulders.

‘i’m getting too old for that.’

‘eighteen,’ dina grins. ‘positively ancient.’

ellie returns the grin, heaves herself up onto the couch and stretches her arms over her head, yawns. her hands flop down into her lap and she blinks her eyes open again, bleary and a little blurry, and catches the tail end of a slightly flustered look dina throws to the ceiling.

‘you good?’

‘hmm?’

‘no hangover?’

‘big one,’ dina tells her with a grimace. ‘but the water helped—and joel made me the greasiest breakfast ever, so i’m well on my way to recovery.’

ellie frowns. ‘where’s my breakfast?’

‘you slept through it.’

‘what the fuck?’ ellie breathes, offended. ‘see if i come get you again if that’s how you treat me.’

dina tilts her head. it’s unfair how pretty the smile she directs at ellie is; soft and sweet and slow, brimming with affection until it overflows and a little dimple pops in her right cheek. ‘you would,’ she says knowingly.

ellie breathes out a shaky breath, wipes her palms on the coarse fabric of her jeans. ‘yeah, well, i’m dumb like that. never learn,’ she laughs quietly. her laugh dies when dina switches from her seat on the coffee table to the couch right next to her.

‘i love it about you,’ dina tells her, eyes bright. ‘you know that, don’t you?’

‘i—well,’ ellie blinks. pulls herself sharply under control, ignoring her sweating palms and thundering heart. ‘someone’s gotta look after you.’

‘my hero,’ dina says again, quietly, and she leans in until their shoulders brush together. her eyes dip for a second before returning to ellie’s eyes and ellie thinks distantly that she must be very close for her to be able to see the flecks of lighter brown through dina’s iris’s. ‘how about a kiss for your trouble?’ she whispers, and when ellie’s head wobbles a little—a nod, hopefully—dina leans in until her breath puffs warm over the corner of ellie’s lips.

ellie’s eyes flutter closed. she curls her hands into tight fists in her lap to keep from reaching for dina. skin tingling, when dina’s lips actually press to the corner of her mouth, it feels like an electric shock right through her and ellie’s breath catches with an embarrassingly loud hitch.

dina’s nose skates over her cheek before she pulls back.

‘thank you, ellie.’

‘I -,’ ellie licks her lips, shivers when her tongue brushes against where dina had kissed her. ‘i wasn’t about to let anything happen to you,’ she says, avoiding dina’s gaze and instead watching her hands, picking at a loose stitch on her jeans. ‘you’re my best friend, i don’t know what i’d do if you got hurt.’

[okiekp13]

To the Stars 10

I want to say sorry folks for the long ass wait; I have recently moved and could not find the teime to write like I wanted too. Please enjoy!

Chapter 10

Hushed voices reached your ears; it was warm you noticed, no longer were you out in the snow. However, the dull ache and pains from being tossed from your shuttle like a rag doll were still present. You could feel blankets that weighed heavily on top of you; it was getting hot under them making you sweat. Try as you might move it was a feeble effort; barely able to crack open an eye you could see the blurry silhouettes of two people talking but couldn’t make them out.

“It is nostalgic having you home Jimin, and to bring such galactic garbage with you too.” A woman’s curt tone reached your ears.

“Eomma I took care of them didn’t I? Besides, they were following her; she had been a bit reckless to save Jungkook.”

“You wish to scold her when she wakes after she put her life on the line to save his sorry self? He should have been more vigilant and protected her; when will you boys stop acting like children and protect your own?” The woman spoke hotly.

“Eomma...we are all safe now that's all that matters.”

“When were you going to mention she is your mate?”

“I...uh...well.”

“Mmhmm thought so. She will come around soon; go look after the human before he has a heart attack.” The woman ushered him out.

If you had the strength you would have smiled at the exchange; you were safe and that lifted a great weight off your chest. Yoongi must have been worried sick you thought; you would have to get up soon to see him...yet the warmth and weight of the blankets lulled you back to sleep again. Why get up right away anyways it was so comfy.

Flashbacks of the mission plagued your mind; flashing between trying not to get caught and being chased by the galactic scum. Fear had your heart racing until it was all you could hear in your ears; pounding and pounding until it felt like you couldn’t breathe, the cold grip of fear making your mind irrational. Someone was yelling but you couldn’t make out what the voice was saying; thrash as you might you couldn’t get enough air or move it felt until fangs bit into the juncture of your shoulder pinning you against a strong body a low growl reaching your ears. You knew that sound and instantly relaxed. Sinking against the body you knew so well; finally feeling air in your lungs and your fear leaving you.

“Geez you’re a handful aren’t you.” Jimin scolded.

With great effort, you opened your eyes to see it was indeed Jimin holding you; a deep furrow between his brows as he fretted over you. Carefully he laid you back down on the bed and covered you up with the blanket yet again; laying beside you he ranted as he brushed strands of hair from your face.

“You never think things through, do you? Do you have any idea how freaked out we have been? Yoongi has nearly had a heart attack every day or a major mental breakdown, Hobi had to lock him in his room to keep him from storming up here and shaking the life out of you. My mom has been giving me nothing but grief from that stunt you pulled and even though I took care of it it's my fault you’re hurt like this making me feel like an ass! Jungkook is on scrubbing duty for a year because of that stunt and I will be locking you away from any more missions I nearly died from worry over this crap! My mom is already planning our future as we speak the woman is a demon when she gets an idea in her head all because she found out you are my mate and holy hell we need to avoid that if at all possible…”

You couldn’t hold back anymore as you broke out into a fit of giggles; his confused glance down at you made you laugh even harder. To think a big brave captain of a big bad ship could be worried over something so little as yourself was just too much.

“Are you broken?” Jimin asked fighting his own smile.

“Maybe...I did take quite a fall from the sky you know. I had to fight off all those soldiers too in the snow might I add and I got to see you be a badass for a second and save me.” You smirk.

“Yep your fucked up. Are you at least feeling ok now?”

“Sore and battered but not dead I’ll make it. Yoongi really freaking out?”

“If Hobi didn’t use his skills as a siren to keep him docile we would all be dead by now so he could get to you. For such a small man he is something else when he is pissed.”

“Yep...like a cobra just waiting to strike, freaked me out the first time too.”

After a few shared laughs Jimin helped you up and you worked your way down to the main level of Jimin’s family home which was more like a stone fortress built into the side of a mountain. His mother was a beauty like you had never seen before; pale spots dotted her skin in such an alluring way you could see where Jimin got his looks. His father was built like a tank; pure muscle also covered in pale spots of the snow leopard, his people all wore thick fur clothing to protect them from the elements. Upon seeing the crew crowded around a table talking; brought relief to you...worrying about them had stressed you out more than you would like to admit. Jungkook was the first to spot you and immediately grabbed you up in his arms apologizing nonstop until Jimin pried him off. Your eyes landed on Yoongi who looked worse for ware; dark circles from hell lingered under his eyes instantly making you feel sorry. 

“Yoongs…” You whimpered. Making your way to him a bit wobbly you sank down into the chair next to him and hid against his collarbone as you let your emotions go unsaid; he didn’t need to hear it he knew you well enough. Wrapping and arm around you he squeezed you tightly; you could tell he had been miserable and worried about you just as much as you had him.

“You took long enough.” He muttered. 

“Well excuse me I’ll go into a coma next time.” 

“Better fucking not!” Yoongi growled. 

Laughter erupted from around you; the crew you had learned to love and accept like family sat around you. Jin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. Maybe you had died and this was your heaven? 

“You guys act like and old couple! Have you always been like this?” Hoseok asked laughing. 

“Like I would settle for a bratty kitten like this please!” Yoongi growled. 

Hoseok laughed his head off as he smacked the table. 

“Right because you were busy toying with me just last night were you not?” Hoseok winked at Yoongi who went pin straight against you. 

“Min Yoongi what have you been up too?” You smirked at him. 

“Shut up cat! You fish boy can it!” 

“Only if you make me big boy.” Hoseok laughed dodging all attempts by Yoongi to hit him.

What the hell had happened while you were out? Jimin collected you from Yoongi who was about to mess up Hoseok’s pretty face; but the siren seemed to be welcoming it. Being led through the house you were shoved into a bathroom of sorts with a large hot spring in the floor. Jimin shut the door rather roughly jamming a plank against it so no one could get in.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Jimin turned to you with a feral look in his eye; advancing on you until you were cornered against the wall. Without a word he started to strip you of your clothing before his own; shoving you toward the spring until you walked in. The hot water a welcoming relief to your tired body and aches; the man before you looked as regal as you remembered. His dark locks hanging over his eyes; his pale spots decorating his skin teasing you with glimpses of his muscles as he moved. 

“I think you owe me kitten...making me go through everything like you did. Part of me wants to love you to death and the other wants to bash your head in for being so reckless! So I guess I’ll knock out two birds with one stone, get you washed up and get some of my frustrations at the same time.” He smirked. 

“The hell--?” “Shhh not a peep out of you this time. Just relax and let me handle everything.”

That was in no way enough of a warning; Jimin crowded your body against the side of the hot spring, his form towering over you as his eyes locked with yours. You stared back not wanting to give in to his dominance just yet; his pupils dilated as he waited for you to look away first. You could see the restrain in him; he was trying to control his want to completely take you over. Grinding his hips against yours you could feel how hard he was; a low purr vibrating through you as he nuzzled her cheeks with his nose not breaking eye contact. Finally you give in and sigh when he nips at your jaw down your neck and back up again nuzzling behind your ear chuffing as he scents you. 

His grip grew tight on your hips as he pulled you against him; perhaps it was the slight manhandling that was turning you on or the pure animalistic masculinity he was expressing that had you melting in his grasp either way you wanted him and bad. Meeting his growls with your own you were raking your nails against his scalp as you pulled him down so you could devour his lips. Hearing Jimin groan into the kiss you let your hands explore as much of him as you could reach relearning every plane and curve of his body like you would never see it again. Grinding against him desperate to alleviate the ache growing between your legs all because of him and the need to have him inside. Impatience had Jimin lifting you up off your feet so you were straddling his waist, quickly and harshly he rubbed at your clit with his thumb breaking the kiss to watch you jerk and fall apart before him. 

“Listen carefully kitten; we won’t be having a repeat of that little stunt now will we?” He growled.  “J-j-jimin.” You moan.

“Answer me!”

“No no I... it won’t.”

“Good. Now you are going to take everything I give you no complaints you hear me?” He growled by your ear making you shiver.

Seeing you nod he quickened his pace on your clit as he slowly pushed himself inside you not even bothering to warm you up; the stretch was both stinging and pleasurable at the same time you weren’t sure which was more. Taking a snail’s pace at easing in until he bottomed out to pulling out before sliding in again; just as you were starting to calm down he slammed his hips into you making you cry out. Soft and sweet was not happening; he had a point to prove and you were all for it as you felt him hit your cervix so deep you were seeing stars. He pressed down harshly on your clit as he rammed into you; your screams and moans music to his ears. 

Your fluttering walls teasing his control as he lost himself in the feeling of you...his mate...his own slice of heaven riding him like a steed. The way your body would dance for him always mesmerized him making him proud he could evoke such a reaction out of you; hearing his name on your lips like the most beautiful song to his ears. Feeling you wrap your tail around his leg to help anchor yourself making him push up into you harder and faster; your walls were starting to squeeze on him...he would fill you up so you wouldn’t forget who you belonged to. Pulling a roar out of your lungs he felt you come on him screaming his name as he pushed you past sensitivity until he emptied himself inside you. 

A tangled and panting mess the two of you were; the hot water felt nice against aches you had completely forgotten about. Jimin was dutiful and cleaned you until he was satisfied before cleaning himself. Carrying you out of the hot spring he dried you with towels before wrapping you up in one while he rummaged through some shelves to pull out some clothes for you. They were the tribal clothing you saw everyone else wearing; they were made out of a hide of some sort with the inside lined with fur. A pair of pants and a tunic like shirt felt like the coziest blanket you had ever been in; he found you some boots to wear before he dressed himself. Pushing you toward the door he led you back to the main room of the house; everyone had gone it was empty, he guided you to the kitchen where he told you to sit at the table. 

Before long you had a meal set before you with plenty to drink as well; not sure what animal the meat was you still dug in and moaned to have some food in you. Downing your water as you tried to eat as quickly as possible; your stomach was growling at you in impatience from waiting. When you finished you had a full on food coma settle over you.

“That’s it for today kitten; back to bed.” Jimin chuckled at you dozing off at the table. 

“No I just woke up...I want to see everyone.” You mumble.  Jimin could only shake his head at you; leaving the dishes for later he picked you up again not surprised you didn’t fight him since you were dozing off in his arms. Taking you back up the stairs to your room he laid you down on the bed with fresh blankets already on it; probably thanks to his mom. You fought sleep you really did; but every time you blinked your eyes got heavier and heavier. Jimin went to leave but you grabbed his sleeve...you didn’t want to be alone. 

“Stay.” You whine.

Chuckling Jimin crawled into the bed with you and pulled you against him with the intention of only staying until you fell asleep before he would go and join the others. However the comfort and security of having you in his arms soon lulled him to sleep as well. Finally feeling safe again you welcomed the heavy slumber that awaited you; the scent of Jimin easing any worries you may have for the time being. 

[lazyfox411]

Tired

all this hype for season four has made me emotional so ive pumped out a little oneshot of klance comfort so here you go enjoy

Tired. That was how you felt when you couldn’t get any sleep. When you took on responsibility you didn’t want, that you weren’t ready for. When you were forced to keep it, even after its proper holder was found alive and well. When your team didn’t realize how much you were struggling. Maybe they did. They just didn’t care.

Tired. That was all. That was why he was shaking, that was why he couldn’t stomach anything, that was why the room around him was blurring in and out of focus. He just needed sleep.

Sleep wouldn’t come.

Keith leaned heavily against the wall, a trembling hand pressed to the cool, hard surface. God, he felt like shit. Beads of sweat were collecting under his helmet, clinging to his forehead, soaking his bangs. He felt it the back of his next, turning ice cold and sending shivers down his spine. He realized too late that his legs were giving out and he ended up in a heap on the floor, glad that no one was around to see him fall.

He’d tripped right outside his bedroom. He dragged himself to his feet and through the door, and used the remaining sliver of energy inside him to collapse onto the bed. Keith ripped his helmet off. He stared at it. It looked dirty, and smudged. He didn’t know when was the last time he’d even given a thought to cleaning his armor. He thought of the way Shiro’s armor always shined as though he’d spent hours polishing it. That was how a leader’s armor ought to look.

“I’m no leader,” Keith mumbled to himself. He threw the helmet at the wall. It didn’t make much of a noise, but he was quite sure it left a dent. That was satisfying, somehow.

He was still thinking of Shiro in shining armor, the way he’d looked before his disappearance from the black lion. His lion. Keith’s lion, now. Even though it shouldn’t be.

“I’m not good enough for this.” Keith had no idea who he was talking to, but it felt good to say it. “I don’t want this.” So why did Shiro? “I didn’t ask for it.” Shiro had given it to him. But he wouldn’t take it back. “I’m tired.” He closed his eyes. Even without the visual aspect, he could still sense the room spinning. If it didn’t stop soon, he was going to be sick. All over his already dirty armor. Why was he even wearing it? Oh, right. Training, he remembered blearily. I was training.

Keith didn’t know what to do now. Even with Shiro back, he couldn’t relax. Because he was still supposed to be the brave leader and pilot the black lion and win the war. A war against his own kind. Why couldn’t he just be normal, like everyone else? Why wouldn’t the black lion take Shiro back? Keith missed Red. How many times now had he gone to her, tried to get her to open up to him again, but gotten shut out again and again, only to have Lance show up moments later, taking down her barrier like it was paper thin. It wasn’t Lance’s fault. Maybe Keith had taken Red for granted. Maybe he hadn’t. Either way, he loved Red. He’d never said it out loud, but the red lion had been solid and steady, unwavering, even when Keith had doubts. The red lion had chosen him for who he was. It seemed he had to be somebody else for the black lion.

The black bayard materialized in his hand. He could control it now. He threw that at the wall, too. Another dent.

He set his head in his hands. He really didn’t feel well. His head hurt, he was dizzy and queasy and all kinds of bad. Why couldn’t he just feel normal?

Keith looked up then, the sound of the door whooshing open drawing him from his thoughts. Somebody was walking in. Keith fought away the blurry lines that danced across his line of sight until Lance came into focus, his tall silhouette framed in the doorway, soft light from the hallway seeping into the dark room.

“Lance? What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? This is my room.”

“No, it’s my—” Keith paused. He looked around. He couldn’t tell whose room this was. Why the hell didn’t he know where he was?

“Pretty sure it’s my room, dude,” Lance said. “No worries, though. It happens. I once walked in on Hunk in the shower thinking I was going into the kitchen. It did not end well, trust me.” Lance stopped, eyeing Keith closely. He waved a hand in front of the other boy’s face. “Hey, earth to Keith. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. Loud and clear.”

“Are you okay, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Lance was thoroughly confused now. “Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh, um. No. All good.”

“You’re sure about that?” Lance asked.

Keith folded his arms. “Yes.”

“You know you can talk to me about it if you want to.”

“I don’t have anything to talk about, Lance,” Keith glowered.

“I think you do.”

“Well I don’t. So just leave me alone.”

“But you’re sitting on my bed,” Lance pointed out.

Keith huffed, voice rising up in his throat and bursting out as a scream, “Just leave me alone, Lance!” He felt himself losing control before the words were even out of his mouth, and before he could get a grip on what was happening, he was flat out sobbing.

Lance sighed. Alone was the last thing Keith needed to be right now.

Keith sniffled as Lance sat down next to him on the bed. He didn’t want to look at Lance. He didn’t want Lance to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He didn’t want to be like this.

Lance tentatively reached an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly. “Just breathe, buddy. Let it out, and breathe.”

Keith had given up on any bit of dignity he might have had left. He leaned into Lance, let his entire body go limp, let the tears run free down his cheeks. Lance held him, supporting his floppy, achy limbs and carding fingers through his sweaty hair.

“There, there,” Lance murmured. “Don’t be embarrassed, okay? Just let it all out, you’ll feel better, I promise.”

And so he did.

“Shiro’s ch-changed. I used to think I could tell him anyth-thing, but now he just keeps going on and on about how I need to be the leader and fly the black lion, but I can’t and I don’t want to and I don’t think he even cares. He says he does, but I don’t think he cares about me anymore. I don’t even know if I care if he cares.” Keith had no idea if Lance could even tell what he was saying, his voice was so strangled and high and choked with sobs. But he didn’t care. It felt good to talk, even better than it had minutes earlier, because this time somebody was listening. He kept going.

“I’m just…I don’t know what to do, Lance. I’m just a mess, I’ve always been a mess and I’m sorry you have to try and clean it up now. I’m just I’m upset because I miss Shiro and I miss Red and I miss home and—”

“Keith. Hey. Look at me.”

Keith looked up at Lance with wide eyes. Lance had a hand cupped around his cheek. His hands were soft, and warm.

“I’m tired,” Keith said weakly.

“I know,” Lance whispered. “It’s okay.” One of his hands found the back of Keith’s neck, and he worked his fingers over the tense muscles he found there. Keith visibly melted under his touch.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lance said, continuing with the massage, “how about you go hop in the shower, get all nice and fresh and clean, and then we’ll go to the kitchen and get you something to eat. Then we’ll come back here and you can sleep, right here in my bed so I can look out for you. And when you’re feeling better, then the two of us are going to pay Red a little visit. I think she misses you, too. What do you say, Keith? Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith blinked sleepily. “That sounds good.”