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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years

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bakugou katsuki grew up knowing he was needed for how strong his quirk was—how strong he was.

people tended to look up to him, rely on him, for how masterfully he wielded his power. this was only amplified once he hit the pro-hero stage. if there was any trouble, the public could always count on great explosion murder god dynamight to wrap things up nicely. they could always count on him to win. and he did. every single time.

he was a pillar of victory. he was a pillar of strength.

he became one of the heroes to call on whenever there was a particularly rough villain roaming the streets. he was pulled every which way, multiple voices constantly telling him the same three words no matter if he was on duty or not:

"i need you."

"dynamight, i need you to head to the kuiki district—"

"dynamight, i need you at the agency in five—"

"dynamight, i need you to stop the villain with the illusion quirk—"

this incessant need for him, for his power, dominated his life on the daily. and he grew to expect it, to accept it, even. he let it control him, guiding his actions and his triumphs. he was needed, after all. who was he to let these people down?

he was a hero. the world needed him. needed dynamight.

but you, pretty little you, didn't.

the day katsuki's heart started bleeding for you was the day you told him you didn't need him. you wanted him. not for his power, not for his strength. but just for him. for bakugou katsuki.

his entire life that he unconsciously based on his self-worth—on how he could win any battle against any villain, how he could be the strong figure people could always look up to—was upturned by those simple words you uttered to him one quiet night.

you chose him, chose to want him. you chose to love him, to treasure him forever until the end of your life. he felt something snap inside him—something he didn't know he'd been subconsciously craving for as long as he could remember.

the feeling of being wanted.

that someone could look at him and see not only his strength, but everything else that made up him—flaws and all—and still want him.

and katsuki knew, from that moment on, that you were someone that he never wanted to let go.

#i am on a ROLL #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #where did this even come from im in a haze or smth

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wh0rezs · 1 year

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“TELL ME WHY YOUR HANDS ARE COLD”-MILES QUARITCH

PAIRING: RECOM! MILES QUARITCH X HUMAN! READER

WARNINGS: non really, Miles being a softie, in sm love that is sickening Miles (i am so lonely), AFAB reader, Lyle being slapped at the end

Colonel Miles Quaritch held a very neat appearance, human or recom. No hair out of place in his braid, shoes shined until you could see your own reflection in them, and his clothes always crisp and clean.

He even kept his workspace clean, not a single thing out of place. Though he was drawn to you, someone who contradict everything he held close to his heart.

[name] was also know around the Bridgehead but for the opposite reason of Miles. Your hair was also sticking out of your bun, clothes being wrinkled and papers scattered across your desk. Though you did take pride in your neat makeup especially your lipstick.

No one, even Eywa herself, knows why Miles choose you as his lover but he did. You two seemed to be plain opposites but also being puzzle pieces that fitted together perfectly.

At first he seem to hate you, and your clutter. He made it his job to clean up your desk (without your knowledge) only to come back later for it to be even messier (if that was possible). As paid back, you would scatter papers around his office to piss him off (you always found them neatly stacked in your desk).

But soon Miles opened his heart to you and you did too. Soon the two of you spent every possible moment with each other, and every night (like the true gentleman Miles’s grandma raised him to be) he would walk you to your dorm and depart.

Tonight would have been no different but you told him you had a gift for him. Instead of Miles walking you home, you walked him to the recoms’ personal gym with Miles’s tail swishing side to side with pure delight.

After biding the Colonel “a good night”, you waited to hear the surprise gasps of the soldiers. You even faintly heard a voice, Lyle’s, say a cheeky remark like “Damn Colonel, were you surprised attacked ?” and following that was resounding slapping sound.

It quickly spread around the Bridgehead that Colonel Miles Quaritch had returned to his dorm with a few dozen of your signature red colored lipstick lips imbedded into his blue skin. You had also returned to your dorm with smudged lipstick, completely your messy appearance.

At breakfast, you heard Lyle, sporting a red hand shaped bruise on the back of his head, explain how he lived to tell the tale.

A/N: did i write this is in one sitting… yes i did. thank you for all the love i am getting for my other fanfics. i promise i have more than j this series i am working on. my stories r never proofread so if u find mistakes pls tell me

#recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #fanfiction #recom lyle wainfleet #avatar 2022 #atwow fluff #miles x reader #avatar 2009 #colonel quaritch x reader #i am on a roll

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sagaduwyrm · 8 months

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See No Evil (Wipe Clean My Sins)

It was Nocturne who explained it to him first, the God of Dreams and Nightmares shocked that no one else had tried. Maybe they had. Danny hadn’t been the most aware in the early days, every shape he took too-big-too-small and the Infinite Expanse of the Infinite Realms resting heavy on his shoulders. When you are a god, the Sleeping Ancient said, every act against you is a transgression. When you are a god, every transgression becomes a sin.

It was Nocturne who explained it to him first, the God of Dreams and Nightmares shocked that no one else had tried.

Maybe they had. Danny hadn’t been the most aware in the early days, every shape he took too-big-too-small and the Infinite Expanse of the Infinite Realms resting heavy on his shoulders.

When you are a god, the Sleeping Ancient said, every act against you is a transgression. When you are a god, every transgression becomes a sin.

Danny hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. He couldn’t comprehend how it could matter so much, how a sin against a god could twist the fabric of reality into knots and bend the flow of time away from its path.

He understood now.

Ellie, his clone, his mirror-child, his daughter , looked the same as the day she was born but for the y-shape carved in her chest as she lay behind him. Before him stood his parents.

“Danny, sweetie, I need you to step away from the ghost.” Madeline Fenton's hands shook with fear. She thought it was fear for her son, standing too close to that dangerous spook as he was. It wasn’t. Madeline Fenton was afraid of her son, the young man that came back from college and stood tall in between his parents and the ghost, blocking their way.

Human instincts were not the most powerful of things. They had sacrificed that capability in exchange for a different kind of thinking, one that let them build grand workings and conquer their planet. Still, something in the depths of the human brain remembered what it was to fear something too big and bright for human eyes to perceive.

Danny’s eyes glinted strangely. His shadow thrashed on the floor, gentling where it circled the young girl.

“How. Dare. You.” Danny’s voice was steady and quiet, but something at the furthest reaches of human hearing howled .

The Fenton parents exchanged a glance. Jack Fenton spoke carefully. “Danny-boy, it’s a ghost. It isn’t a real person.” His voice picked up in excitement. “And just look at all the data we’ve already captured!”

Around them, the fabric of reality twisted, rippled, and fractured like a mirror dropped from a great height. The Fenton’s kept their eyes on their son, something in them quailing at the idea of looking at the cracks in the corners of their eyes.

Danny snarled. “That ghost is my daughter. Your granddaughter.”

Now they were alarmed. “Danny, if it has you believing it’s your daughter, we need to get you away from it right away. The GIW has a good program for detoxification from ghost control, they’ll help,” Maddie said. She wanted to turn and walk up the stairs, lead the way so her son would follow, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that if she went outside of the basement the rest of the world would still exist. Somehow, it felt like the only thing that was still real was the space between them and their son.

Danny closed his eyes and let out a tired breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay son!” Jack smiled. “Just come over here and let us make this right.”

Danny kept talking like he hadn’t heard him. “I hoped you could change, that you would change. That you loved me enough to be better.” He met their eyes and his gaze was pained and filled with sorrow. Their hearts started picking up in their chests.

“I love you.”

"But I won't make the same mistake with Ellie that you did with me."

The world screamed . The weight of the Infinite descended all at once, tearing through fragile three-dimensional reality to reach the sinners standing before the King. The Fenton parents had time for one cut-off scream before the world settled and stilled and they were gone.

The High King of the Infinite Realms collapsed into a grief-stricken pile on the ground, pulling his daughter gently into his lap as he sobbed.

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lets-try-some-writing · 7 months

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Goretober Day 3: Oral

I accidentally made a Soundwave origin story with this so if yall like that, here you go. Origin through angst.

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“Hold him down!” Powerful sets of servos held his limbs against the frigid ground of the alley and several mecha prowled around him. The skies were dark overhelm, so much so that only a few stars broke through a clearing the smog that polluted the air. Amidst the panic that made his spark flare in terror, Soundwave found a degree of cold comfort in their presence. It was something to keep him grounded as those holding him in place kept him from squirming.

A clasp firmly wrapped around his neck stopped him from producing any serious noise and dug into his cabling as the mecha around him murmured amongst themselves. There seemed to be some debate as to what they intended to do to him, however the grip they had on him never once let up. Finally, his attackers seemed to come to some sort of dark conclusion that left Soundwave frantically trying to call for his symbiotes. Deep down in his spark he knew that even if he could contact them, whatever these mecha did to him would have long come to a close by the time any of his symbiotes arrived.

“You sparkeater lookalike-” One of the mechs hissed, his optics glinting the dark but still far away enough that Soundwave had to strain to locate him. He wished more than anything that he could free his cables and send his attackers flying, but the position he was held in, with his back flat against the ground all but totally prevented that. He was more likely to hurt himself than his enemies, and that made him shake a degree, especially as the mech who spoke pushed a few of his fellows aside and strode forward.

“A monster like you trying to be a Senator? No, we can’t have that can we.” The mech snarled, and Soundwave froze as the definitive sound of metal dragging across harsh ground reached his audials. He tried to trash, but his helm was held steady.

“Remove the monster’s mask! Can’t have that getting in the way.” Soundwave tried to squirm, to scream, to do anything and digits hooked under his mask and tore it away with a snap of broken wires and a flare of flying sparks. It hurt, but it was not nearly as bad as the chill air running across his exposed face and the now very clear vision of a raised hammer hovering mere feet above him in the servos of the mech who had been speaking.

“Let’s see if they let you run for the office of Senator once I finish with you!” The hammer seemed to swing in slow motion as it was brought down. It glinted in the starlight, and amidst the sheer, undiluted terror, Soundwave found himself momentarily stunned into silence. There was a strange beauty in the horror-

And then the hammer came crashing down on his intake and jaw.

A horrific gurgling scream came from his vocalizer as facial protoform split and energon burst free enough that Soundwave could see it flying. He choked on his energon as his jaw caved in, the protomatter making up the skeletal structure warping and cracking. His denta shattered in a spray of terrifying white shards which fell further into his intake where he could taste them as others still splattered across his devastated face. His glossa was torn as sharp edges cut into it, but that only served to have him cry out with more vigor.

He was hardly able to think before the hammer raised, stained an eerie glowing blue, and was promptly brought back down again with extreme prejudice. His screams grew more frantic even while muffled as his jaw caved entirely, the metal shattering so that it split into two rugged parts. What remained of his denta shattered further, breaking and falling into his intake so that he could feel every small piece against his glossa and intake walls. The shards dug into open angry wounds and his facial protoform throbbed in agony as it was forced to split further from the blunt force trauma.

Soundwave was unable to do anything aside from weep as the hammer came down again. Sparks clouded his vision, but every time that hammer raised he could see it shining with his spilled essence just as he could clearly capture the gleeful face of his attacker. Rage pooled deep in his spark alongside the fear and agony, so much so that his frantic attempts to free himself started to yield results. Those holding him in place struggled even more to keep him still as that cursed hammer came down-

Again. And again. And Again.

Blinding pain blurred and faded into one long wave of stinging nerves, swollen protoform, spark shaking agony from shattered skeletal structures, and tank churning nausea from pain and the feeling of his shattered denta combined. At some point the hammer stopped falling and was dropped to the ground beside him with hurried murmurs along the lines of ‘further damage will kill him’. Despite his agony, Soundwave wished he could scoff.

Fools, all of them.

“Frag you Soundwave! Try to keep aiming for a senatorial seat and we'll finish the job!” One of the mechs shouted before scurrying away with the others. Soundwave was left alone as their pedesteps faded, bleeding out in a dark alley with the assault weapon abandoned beside him. What stupid attackers. They left evidence.

He could only lay limply on the ground as he waited for his symbiotes to arrive, spitting out globs of energon, his own glossa, and pieces of denta as his venting sputtered erratically. All the while as he laid in torment, the stars twinkled overhead as both a comfort and a taunt. They watched and none intervened on his behalf. Not Primus, not Unicron, no one. Soundwave endured-

Alone.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #soundwave #pre war cybertron #angst #injury #robogore #goretober #more pain and suffering #I am on a roll

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piratesoftheseaandsky · 2 months

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I got a full ending for Slay the Princess. My last two routes were The Razor and The Damsel (reverse order again). Woo boy, I have a lot to say about that. We are the Long Quiet, and once we leave the cabin, one way or another, we overtake the construct, and it's only us, and the Shifting Mound. We are as much a self-made god as we are forming our other half. Are we even half? maybe we're less. I don't know. The narrator is as much of a bastard as I first assumed. An arrogant bastard whose selfish desires didn't even reflect that of the world he was trying to "save". What a monster, to force two parts of an infinite whole to torture each other for eternity, until we finally succeed in killing our better. What a coward, to wish to kill the very incarnation of change simply because he fears death. What a lair, to swear she would end the world, when all she could do was allow it to change. I think there's something poetic, that the last path I followed was The Razor, a perfect encapsulation of what we are. Each death is a new voice and they keep coming faster and faster, and when you face her the last time, those voices can't help but still see her beauty, in that collection of blades surrounding her beating heart. We shut them out. We become formless. We are nothing and everything and forever shifting because, like our other part, we are change itself. Those voices are us, but now we don't hear them, they've formed who we are and we are better for it. The Shifting Mound asks us if we are ready. Not yet, we fight, wish for her to see us as we have seen her. Through Conflict We Carve Meaning, the achievement says. We are one and the same and yet two separate entities, and together we shatter the construct and change is returned. What a fantastic way to end a game. I still don't see the psychological horror part, sure the razor was freaky, but she was such a a bad liar and those knives were so kickass and her final form was just goddamn beautiful in all the ways a glittering blade and a beating heart can be. I couldn't find the fear there. Maybe in The Damsel. In the way that, if we keep asking her what she wants, she unravels. I pulled back early there. That was fear for what I had turned her to. But aside from that, I rarely found myself afraid. Awed, angry, amused, but rarely scared. Maybe it's worse for other people. I really loved the Our Song list at the end, and I will be making that playlist for myself. Maybe I'll post it here.

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #Side note: I love that one of the achievements is called “Death of the Author”#more rambling #I am on a roll

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that-angry-noldo · 9 months

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Finrod sees nothing in the darkness.

He had a dim light of his own, a while ago. A faint glow that could, if he stayed still for long enough, shimmer through darkness, bring him warmth and awareness; but it was gone now, and he was trembling.

The darkness stuck to him as a living, foul thing; it took away his sight and sense of time, leaving nothing but the reek of the cell, nothing but the low growl of wolves, and ragged, unsteady breaths of his companions.

Seven. Seven of them are left. The screams of those who were gone still echo in his ears.

His arms burn, chained to the wall above his head, one wrist bent and twisted. Silent tears roll down his cheeks; he does not sob, does not cry, for his companions sleep, exhausted, and he does not want to wake them up. He tries to breathe evenly. He cries.

He sees nothing but darkness.

He trembles in his chains and tries to remember the stars. The sky surely must be so, so beautiful outside. Elbereth's creations must shine brightly, spread through the deep dark of the skies; and Tilion's vessel must light the world with pale dim light, carrying through the skies, restless and unchanging through the years-

Someone breaks into a coughing fit. Finrod flinches, breath suddenly stuck inside his throat. Blood pumps in his ears.

For a horrible, neverending second his body rushes with adrenaline, eyes wide, trying to pick something, anything out of the sheer darkness of the cell. For an endless, neverending second he anticipates doors opening, flame burning his vision; but nothing comes.

His breath is torn and quick. It hurts his chest and throat.

A minute passes; an hour, maybe. Finrod picks out the breaths of his companions, again. He hears the closest to him; tries to breathe in rhythm with it.

Maybe he could sleep, surrender himself to the unconsciousness. Maybe he could escape, even for mere minutes; maybe he could close his eyes and never wake up.

He scrambles the remains of his will. His lips are cracked, dry and broken; he has a duty.

He cannot sing, and even if he could, he would not, for Sauron is terrible in anger, and what could anger him more then-

And so, his Song is barely a whisper; words more mouthed than voiced, no melody to them at all. Of stars, Finrod begs, and of deep caverns, and of safe arms. Of warmth, of-

His Song falls, broken, and the failure burns within him, and his hand hurts, swollen, and tears trickle down his face; but the spell sets onto his companions, and they sleep some more. Finrod tries to breathe; there is a tight knot in his throat that holds him in a chokehold.

Forgive me, he begs without words. Oh, please, forgive me.

#tol in gaurhoth #finrod #finrod's ten #silm fic #silmarillion #tolkien #I AM ON A ROLL

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talleryn · 1 year

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Lockwood: do I look nice?

Lucy: you look like you’re about to set something on fire

Lockwood: perfect

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milktweeth · 2 months

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i got an idea and now there are 1000 words on this doc.

#send help #i am on a roll #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #milktweeth

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optimus-rhyme · 11 months

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Rahhhh

#I am on a roll #captain disillusion #tony art

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theratboyking · 1 year

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Run Rabbit

Pairing: Terzo/Reader (This is part of my story Softly Into The Night but can be read as a stand-alone fic)

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: I couldn’t get out of this fucking woods. Every twist and turn looked the same. The trees went on endlessly. There were no clearings or a break in the trees; the thick woods went on for miles. It was dark, and I was trying not to run into what was ahead of me. It knew where I was going before I even did. It was enjoying this - This was nothing but a game it knew it was winning.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, reader has a panic attack, nightmares, there is fluff in this though, as always language

AO3 link

(Link to the story this goes to but once again this can be read as a stand-alone fic)

Run…

Run faster…

The voice in my head kept screaming. My body was screaming. I can’t stop; I have to keep running.

“Run Rabbit…”

A menacing laughter echoed off the walls - Chilling me to the absolute core. IT was getting closer. I didn't dare look back, too scared that it would be right behind me. My body was burning, but it was the only thing keeping me from freezing. My labored breathing left me in a mist in the icy air. I couldn’t even feel my legs running at this point. I just knew I couldn’t stop

“Run Rabbit…”

I couldn’t get out of this fucking woods. Every twist and turn looked the same. The trees went on endlessly. There were no clearings or a break in the trees; the thick woods went on for miles. It was dark, and I was trying not to run into what was ahead of me. It knew where I was going before I even did. It was enjoying this - This was nothing but a game it knew it was winning.

“Run…” It was getting closer.

“Run…” It was breathing down my neck.

In a gust, it was in front of me. The impact on its chest caused me to fall to the cold ground. I try desperately to move away, my back colliding with a tree.

It was massive, emitting a gold light that was blinding to look at. I could see nothing of what it looked like or if it was anything tangible. Instead, it was stalking closer to me at an agonizing pace, taking pleasure in its performance.

I was frozen in place. I couldn’t even tell if I was breathing or if I’d been holding the same breath in.

The laughter returned this time - Rumbling down into the world around us. “I’ve found you, little rabbit.” It echoed around us, sounding far away.

It bent down. Its icy breath blew into my face. I was frozen in place, the breath I had been holding leaving me with a cry for help.

“Run…”

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A shrill scream bounced off the walls. My body bolted upright - sweat clung to my body. My eyes couldn’t focus on anything, jumping from one thing to another. The sheets around me were torn up, and a few pillows from the bed had ended up on the floor. The blanket had been twisted up and tangled around my body. I was still trying to catch my breath.

‘It was just a dream.’ My breathing slowed as I looked around the room.

The fire was still blazing; the cracking was the only sound that dared live in the room with me. The curtains were still drawn, and the balcony door was not open. I was still in my room at the Abbey. I’m right where I fell asleep at. It was just a dream.

I was still panting; my mouth had gone completely dry. I’m not sure if I really was awake or not. I fell back into bed. Any hopes of falling back asleep were out the window at this point. Rubbing my temples, trying to suppress the headache that was forming. I threw the blanket off of me. Deciding that water was the most important thing in the world right now.

I stop just short of the door. Doubt is still present in my mind. To be brutally honest, I was terrified to see what was on the other side. I was scared that IT would be there. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, and reach for the door, opening to the vacant space that comprised the kitchen and living room.

Nothing was there. Letting the breath I had been holding go, I go to the kitchen. I was trying not to run into anything, hitting the wall, and trying to find the light switch. The click of the light switch echoed around the kitchen. Light fills the space around me. Still, nothing was in the room but me and the furniture. I sigh in relief, grabbing a glass to get some water finally.

Another guttural scream left me. My fingers were an inky black; it trailed up my forearm stopping just short of my elbow. My nails came to a point - sharp to the touch. The skin up my arm was devoid of any color.

I stare on - mouth open in horror. Ok. Ok… This is new. This is very new. Fuck. What do I even do about this? What was even happening? Frantically I look around, trying to find anything that would help. I don’t even know what it was I was looking for. I could just barely make out my reflection from the window. I could hardly recognize the thing looking back at me.

A mirror, I need a mirror. My steps quicken back to my room. I flew to the bathroom, a crack forming on the door from the inhuman strength I seemed to possess now. What was looking back at me wasn't myself. My hand had only gotten darker; it looked like a void had taken over my hand. Where the black hadn’t taken over, my skin didn't have any color; it looked like I was turning into a porcelain doll. The white that had taken residence in my hair had spread - The top of my head looked like freshly fallen snow. My mouth fell open, revealing sharpened fangs. My nails only have gotten sharper.

Ok, not a dream. I was not dreaming still. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Ok. Think… Think. Do I go to the clinic? Would any of the sisters even know how to deal with this? Nova was out of the question, and so were the other ghouls. Do I try and find Secondo? No, it's too late for that; he might kill me if I panicked around the halls. Copia? I could feel a pull from my chest when my mind ran to him. But no, he said he would be in his office late tonight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the folded-up note Terzo had written. He was right down the hall. Would he even know what to do? He had to know more than me, at least. I looked down at my hands, the inky black going further up my arms. Then, I made up my mind.

It felt like a tug in my chest was pulling me forward. I rush down the hall. Faster than what should be possible, but I couldn’t bring it in myself to care - I had to find someone. I had to find him.

I stop, finally reaching the familiar door that led to his room. Knocking on the door with so much force it left dents in it. I didn’t let up. From the other side, I could hear the faintest sound of another door opening, footsteps following behind.

“The ministry better be on fucking fire.” The tiniest bit of guilt made it to my chest; I must have woken him up. I only continued knocking, desperate not to be alone right now.

“Yes?” The door flew open, Revealing a very annoyed Terzo.

“Bella? Are you alright?” The irritation quickly left his voice when he saw how panicked I was.

“I-iii- I don’t know. I don’t know what to do; it won't change back… It won’t… It won’t change back,” I frantically try to explain, sticking my hands out in front of me, careful not to get too close to him for fear that I would cut him. I could feel more tears coming - A river of red falling from my face to the floor.

Stunned, he looked at me before jumping into action. He put his arm around me, pulling me close and ushering me into the room. He held me in a vice grip, leading me to the couch. I felt like I couldn’t breathe; all the oxygen in the room had vanished. Gasping for air, his grip only grew tighter.

“Ok, bella breathe. Just breathe. In and out.” He started rubbing circles on my back. “Just breathe.” His head resting on top of mine

My arms make their way around his middle. My face nestled into his chest. He held me like he was the only thing keeping me together. The only thing that felt real was him, “I don’t know… I-iii-I don’t know what happened. I just woke up, and I-iiii…”

“Hey.” He grabbed my face bringing it to look at him, blood staining his shirt where my face previously was. He takes his thumb, wiping away the stream of red from my cheeks, “It’s ok amore… You’re safe here, but I need you to calm down. Ok?”

All I could do was nod, trying desperately to even my breathing out.

He pulls me back into his chest, rocking back and forth. I could feel myself starting to relax. From the corner of my eye, I could see the onyx shade that had taken over my arms starting to fade into the familiar shade of my skin. My nails go back to the rounded point. I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper into his embrace. My breathing evening out.

“It’s ok. I got you amore. I got you.” He whispered into my hairline.

“I broke a door…” I breathe out sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about that right now amore… just focus on the sound of my voice.”

He stays like that for what felt like hours, rocking back and forth. Humming a tune, I didn’t know the name of occasionally putting words to the melody. Everything was slowing, my breathing was evened, but he didn't let go. He only kept rocking our bodies to the beat of the song he was humming.

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

The sunlight came streaming in from the window. I groan, lifting my head, only to be stopped when I feel a weight on my middle, keeping me from sitting up. Panicking, I turn my body. Terzo was next to me, peacefully asleep—quiet snores leaving him with each slow chest rise.

I don’t remember falling asleep, let alone being moved. I hate to admit it, but it was probably the best I had slept since I got here. My mind started to ask a million questions, my cheeks forming a deep red. Do I wake him? He looked so peaceful. Do I really want to disturb him? I’m assuming that he was the one who brought me in here with him. Obviously, I’m not disturbing him.

Looking down at his sleeping form, I made my decision. Settling back into bed with him, he stirs slightly, brings me closer, and holds me tight. I sigh, settling into bed with him once again. I closed my eyes and fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat. I could get used to this.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus x reader #ghost #the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #ghost band #if you have ghost #i am on a roll

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