#they have taken over my brain im so sorry im flooding the tags with writing

[coffinscore]

Our Coffin-bound birthday.

"Can you believe it Andrew spending my 20th locked up, Fucking parasite-filled, No cake or anything" Complained the pacing figure behind him. "Do you think there's any way I could convince the warden to bring me anything sweet, Literally anything at this point!" Pacing continued as well as complaining you could almost see Andrew's eyes rolling as he heard his 'dear' sister kicking the door "I get it already! Stop being so loud leave the goddamned door alone already!! Geez congrats and all but can you ever fucking be quiet" Snapped Andrew he was sick of it all! They had been trapped a month so far, Rations were running low and he was sick of Ashley's complaining

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine today!! You haven't even wished me a happy birthday yet to be complaining like that!!" Ashley yelled back she wasn't exactly in the best of moods today either "I know you didn't give a shit about me, but could you not get on my ass for once!!" Tears welled in the birthday girl's eyes as she yelled with a pout stomping away to the two's shared room. "Asshole!!!" She screamed out slamming the door and flopping onto her bed holding her moon pillow tightly to her chest. "At least pretend you give a shit about my day here.." She thought to herself as she closed her eyes not that it stopped her tears. What else was she expected to feel today? Other than shitty another wasted day and her birthday being a wasted day stung badly. Mom and Dad didn't care to call it was expected, But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. Not as much as it hurt for her own brother to avoid her.

Quite some time passed as Andrew sighed still placed on the seat of the couch. Of course he knew he was the first to wish her happy birthday every year. Who said he didn't have any surprise plans what she didn't know wasn't hurting her right? Right?? Incorrect he had to make this quick before she died of a broken heart. Putting his head in his hands he mentally prepared himself for the berating he would get when he walked into their room. Getting up, he finally went to get the little surprise he had wrapped up like old molding food in the deep freezer. What else could it be besides a stale lemon-flavored muffin frozen solid as a rock. A small smile traced his lips as he reminisced when this became a little tradition of the two's so long ago. He quickly walked over to the cabinets to get a plate out placed it on and threw the blunt weapon of a snack cake in the microwave. Carefully he watched the timer before it made that horrendous loud beep. It looked like shit, "It was perfect for her" Andrew chuckled thinking to himself as he began looking for a candle.

"Dumbass.." Muffled words came out onto her pillow as she began to smell something familiar. Shooting up her heart began skipping a beat almost thinking she was hallucinating the scent due to hunger and rage combined. "Andrew..?" She called out rather calmly compared to how her former mood had been. Moving to seat herself on the edge of her bed she contemplated if she should storm in there but she sat waiting. And her waiting paid off! Before she could finish her thoughts in came her brother holding a mushy-looking muffin with two candles on top, Pink and green lit up just like her face even if she looked more stunned than anything. Weight shifted on her bed as her other half sat next to her handing her the plate with soft smile on his face "Happy birthday Ashley. I could never forget the day you came into and ruined my life~" She laughed hard at his obvious tease to raise her mood light drops still falling from her eyes but out of a warm happy feeling instead. "Way to save face for being kind to me asshole." Teasing back a warm smile on her face as she moved closer blowing them out before she could even be given the okay wishing to herself in the process.

"H-Hey you were supposed to wait for the okay!" Andrew said sighing at her, He knew he couldn't have stopped her even if he tried, She was happy, An more dangerous beast than her rage. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he sighed. "Sorry your day is just us stuck in this hellhole." He sympathized he knew she didn't mean anything by her outburst earlier he would have lashed out too if he was in her position. Watching as Ashley unwrapped and split the muffin in half surprising him. "What sharing with me~" Teased Andrew as a piece was handed his way. "Who knows how long it will be before get something like this again.. So take it before I change my mind" The younger blushed lightly her kindness was truly something special when you earn it. He happily grabbed the squishy treat leaving a little kiss on the side of her head noticing her little jump. She always seemed confused when he showed her proper affection, He'd be lying if he said he didn't find it cute.. Moving to take a bite the texture was shit but that's okay the two were still enjoying it either way wrapped in each other's company in this never ending coffin.

#scorestales #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #andrew graves #ashley graves #short story #i would actually die for these two i hope you all know that #they have taken over my brain im so sorry im flooding the tags with writing

[dracosearlgreytea]

indelicate marks (15)

indelicate marks: chapter fifteen - the scar

A/N: yes i am finally back with another chapter!! only taken me like two weeks but thats fine aha im so sorry for making you all wait so long!! its been part two of slight mental breakdown which meant i didnt have much motivation to write, but, you all very much deserve the next chapter so here it is!! im hoping to get this fic finished before saturday as i am going away for a while but i shall keep you all updated. all my love and i hope you’re all doing okay - ivy <33 

warnings: language, kinda nsfw implications, talk of scars, a pinch of angst 

lovely tags: @h-annahayy  @okaydraco  @fanficflaneuse @thatoneasrastan @biinspiration @honeymelon22 @bitch-im-a-fangirl @erinisbadger @strawberriesonsummer @accio-rogers @candune

indelicate marks index

The weeks after were... nice. Being with Draco was surprisingly easy. He was comfortable company - more than comfortable. You spent most of your hours sat in the classroom, on the window ledge. It was the best few weeks you'd ever had in your life, by far. Sometimes, you would stray further - whenever you managed to convince Draco, that was. Visits to the Astronomy Tower and the lake were rare, but you adored them regardless. Those memories, the ones of him bathed in sunlight or dusk, would stay etched into mind for a long time after. You would read together, on occasions. In the depths of the library, you had discovered some of the Muggle literature he liked to drone on about. Other times, you would just talk - about everything, or nothing. You would, however, always spend a lot more time than necessary wrapped in his presence. Kissing Draco was both the easiest and most complicated thing you'd learnt to do, yet he made it worth it.   Draco still had his bad days - not that you hadn't had a fair share of yours. There would be nights were he would stumble into the classroom only to end up falling asleep. Sometimes he didn't make sense, voice a mere mutter, eyes glazed over. You didn't ask him about what he had done - about what Harry had accused you for. He didn't mention the mark you would soon have to take. Spring verged into summer. Despite the anxiety that came with the dread of returning home for the holidays, you found yourself almost forgetting the reality of it all. But, it was nice. It was nice to just be. "Are you asleep?" It was late, and warm. Too warm, for your liking, and you you had still managed to end up curling into Draco's side. His whisper came close to your ear, letting the book resting on his lap fall shut. "No," You murmured, shifting your head to glance back at him. Features close to yours, his breath fanned over your lips as he exhaled. The pure sensation of the intimacy that had became so natural still hadn't lost his touch, warmth flooding throughout you. "Why?" "Just wondered." You hummed at his reply, noting his grey gaze as it darted down for a second. Pressing a short kiss to his lips, his fingertips dug a little more into where they rested on your shoulder. The act still managed to warm your chest - in a way you'd only ever felt with him. It was in these moments, the dark nights and the small kisses and the whispers, that you felt complete. As though nothing was ever going to go wrong - as you'd lived a normal, happier life. Like you weren't on the verge of war. You pulled back, after a second, and Draco sighed as you did. Frowning a little, you scanned his expression, but he only gazed back, expectant. "Are you okay?" You asked, finally. "Are you?" It was his turn to frown. Shifting back to take him in properly, you smoothed out the fabric covering his shoulder, avoiding his eyes. "It doesn't always have to be about me, Draco." Quiet, you spoke, allowing your gaze to dart up to his. Draco watched you, guarded, but not defensive. "I know you don't want to talk about - well, about what goes on with you, but you know you don't have to hide anything. Not with me." "You know it's not like that." He mumbled. "I just don't want you-" "You don't want me involved." You finished for him, forcing your lips into a small, reassuring smile. "I know." Eyes still unreadable, he scanned you for a moment. Then, in one swift movement, he kissed you again, lingering for only a second. Again, you were the one to pull back. The mess of thoughts tangled in your brain was demanding to be heard, much to your frustration. Draco kept his gaze on you as you sat back, keeping yours very much away him his, fiddling at your sleeve. Fingers brushing over yours, he pulled them firmly into his hands. "You're thinking very loudly." He pointed out, voice edged with both seriousness and a rare kind of softness. Eyebrows flicking up, you shrugged. You had to push away the instinctive temptation to withdraw your hands from his and put them back to your sleeve. "I have a lot to think about." You said, finally shooting him a glimpse. "Like?" Draco prompted, arching his eyebrow. "You know what like." Tone a little strained, you swallowed. He'd fallen deadly silent, and you stared down at your tangled fingers. Biting back the words catching in the back of your throat seemed to prove difficult - because they came anyway. "It's just - aren't I already involved?" "Y/N..." "Well, aren't I?" You shot him a look, lips dragged down. "I'm pretty much already a Deatheater, mark and all. I don't see how you actually talking about things is going to make anything worse for me." "I'm not having this conversation with you again." Turning his head away to face straight ahead of him, Draco spoke, firm. His hands pulled away from yours, prompting a painful stab to your chest. "Why?" Pushing, you felt an uncomfortable heat rising in your chest. "Why won't you let me make my own decision about what happens to me? About what happens to us?" Draco's jaw tightened, eyes darker as he came to glare at you. "What is that supposed to mean?" His voice was barely restrained. "I thought you were happy, with this?" "I am - I just - I'm worried about you, Draco. I don't even know where you are half the time. I don't even know what we are, because you won't let me talk to you about anything." Heart rate becoming more frantic, you watched him with an intent. He set you with one of his distant looks, and your chest caved in a little, swallowing. "I said it from the start, Y/N. No promises. We agreed." "I'm not asking you to promise me anything," Your tone grew desperate. "I'm asking you to let me help you." There was a second of silence, after that. You continued to stare at Draco, breathing still quick and mind buzzing as you tugged at your sleeve. He had paused, all too vacant - until he finally let out a sigh, shifting his body to face you properly. "You are helping me." He said, taking your hand again. You allowed him to curl it into his, grinding your teeth in attempt to swallow back another argument. "You being here - being with me - that is all you need to do. I don't want you to worry about anything else." "How do you expect me not to worry? My parents-" "I'm working on it." "What?" Brow furrowing, you stared at him, uncertain. Draco held a very earnest look, that was both terrifying and comforting, and you gripped his hand a little harder. "Don't worry about it. Your parents, the mark, me - nothing." Merlin, his tone had never been so foreboding. His eyes glinted in a way that made your heart tweak, and you had to take in a deep breath. What the hell are you doing, Draco? "It's going to be fine." No, it's not. Draco sighed at your silence, features stilling - before he spoke again. "I promise." You met his dark eyes in under a second. A lump had grown in the back of your throat, but you swallowed it back. Seeing him, in the darkness of the classroom, moonlight reflecting off his eyes... It was all too reminiscent to that night in the Astronomy Tower. He looked so fragile, so incomplete, as though he would slip away at any moment. For once, you could not take comfort in his words. And still, you didn't say anything else. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, hands on his neck and body pressed against his as though it was what you were designed to do. It didn't take long for Draco to crawl over you, pinning you underneath him, a hand set at your waist. Every thought and feeling from your previous discussion discarded, your heart skipped at beat as he nipped your bottom lip. His shirt had loosened from his movement, and you slipped your hand underneath it. Fingertips brushing over the skin of his torso, his eyes snapped to yours, pulling away with a jolt. And, for a second, you froze, apologies ready on your lips. But the glint in his eye was dark, captivating. Then, he was pressing sharp kisses to your neck, a fraction more frantic than ever before. Heart racing, your breathing grew laboured, body sparking underneath his fingertips. "Is this okay?" Draco murmured, glancing up at you. His hand now hesitated at the buttons of your shirt. He did not progress, staying almost unnervingly steady as he waited for a reply. Swallowing, you nodded. "I need a vocal reply." He added, quirking an eyebrow. Despite everything - the heat of your body, the thrill coursing through you - you hesitated. Draco waited a second longer, before withdrawing. Your stomach dropped, grasping his shoulders as he shifted upright. "I - fuck, I'm sorry-" "Don't be stupid." Draco's brow furrowed, shooting you a look that was almost intimidating. "You never have to do anything you don't want to, Y/N." "It's not that I don't want to," You mumbled, avoiding his eyes as your cheeks flushed with head. "I - It's just my..." Draco remained quiet as you struggled for words, until you tapped your left forearm. Gently, he rested his hand at your wrist, causing your to glance at him immediately.   "You don't have to show me." Eyes honest, your chest squeezed. "It's not that I mind you seeing." You frowned at your words, unable to communicate the jumble in your mind. "But no one has even been able to just see it, you know? Without - anything else happening." "Well, I've already seen it before." Draco reminded you, voice a little softer than usual. "It didn't reopen when I healed it last time, so I think it would be fine. But, you still don't have to show me." A soft smile tugged at your lips as you scanned his expression. Even now, it was difficult to coax out this side of Draco - the softer, understanding one. The one you doubted could hurt a fly. Brushing your fingers, over his cheek, you kissed him, slow. The fluttering content never seemed to fade, no matter how many times you had kissed him by now. Then, as you pulled back, you offered him your arm. Draco's eyes rested on you. "Are you sure?" He asked, raising his brow in the lightest. "Vocal reply." "Yes, you idiot." Despite your uncertainty, a smile fluttered across your features. Draco, still tentative, loosened the cuff of your sleeve. Biting down on your lip, you kept your eyes focused on his as he worked, even as he shifted the material upward. Eventually, you squeezed them shut. Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for that first sting, for the bad memories and the burning - But, instead, only a set of soft lips met your skin. Flinching, you eyes snapped open, staring down at your arm. An instinctive grimace followed at the sight of the raised, poorly healed skin. Bu there was no blood. No pain, no distant voices. "See?" Draco murmured, watching you. Staring from your scar, to him, your chest shifted, almost in a motion of instant comfort. "It's fine." Still hesitant, your lips twitched up into a small smile, and you caught the way Draco's gaze followed the movement. You also caught the words, inching their way up your throat. They were burning, but not in the way you were used to. In fact, it was more painful as you pushed them down, kissing Draco again before they could spill out. For once, you did not care about the way your sleeve crinkled in the crook of your elbow. You did not think of the way Draco's fingers brushed over the mark every moment or so. For once, it was not a reminder of what you hated - but reminder of how you had become so entangled with this boy you so adored. A connection you could have never anticipated for such an indelicate mark. Yet, despite it all, it was a connection that you hoped would never have to be broken.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction

[amoristt]

Breathe | Peter x Reader

Anonymous asked: I read your Peter Parker fic and I liked it, can you write another? Maybe one where reader is taken and he rescues her?

yessss more peter <3 i just watched homecoming and ive been dying to write more of him! thanks so much for requesting and please enjoy!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

You woke with a start, your head pounding so hard it almost felt as though it was reverberating through your every last nerve. It raced from your aching head to your toes, and it made you squeeze either side of your temples in hopes of appeasement the awful pulsing. This wasn’t like the migraines you got while doing homework, or the stress headaches that kept you up at night, no this pain in particular felt like something much more… Precise. Carefully your fingers slid their way through your hair, over the top of your skull then to the back of your head where your hair starts to feel sticky.

Half dazed already, you almost passed out when the palm of your hand met something horribly sensitive just below the base of your skull. You gasped in agony, leaned forward and ripping your hand away from the affected area, your stomach dropping when you felt your fingers were wet with something you couldn’t see in the dark. If your throat didn’t feel like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper you’d have cried at both the pain and the thought of knowing your head was damaged, but hardly any sound came out at all.

Without any idea where you were or what had happened you were left to try and ravage your brain for any competent memory that could aid in finding out why you were in this situation. The last thing you remember, even though it was a blurry one at that, was being in your living room. Something had… Startled you. You could recall jumping up from your couch, carefully treading into the bedroom where you’d heard a commotion. After that there was nothing.

You shifted in your spot, atop something hard as a rock, and began to try and feel your surroundings. It all felt the same. Hard, cold, uncomfortable. Afraid you’d discover something unruly you tentatively felt at every part of your body, starting from your feet, then your knees, waist, chest, and shoulders. Other than the screaming wound on your head there didn’t seem to be any more remarkable injuries. There was some obvious bruising however, and it was evident every time you tried to move anything other than your arms. Your ribs felt like they’d been crushed, your legs weighing one thousand pounds. It almost felt like you’d been hit by a truck, or possibly dropped off a cliff.

Gritted moans of pain occasionally sounded when you tried to move from your upright position, and you hissed when you leaned your head back just for a moment only to feel like surging sting of pain when the spot nudged against the wall behind you. Nothing was adding up in your head and you were all alone in the dark, in god knows where. It was likely no one knew where you were either.

Your mind raced with thoughts of Peter.

He was spider man, surely he know that you’d been taken, you were his girlfriend after all. He must keep some sort of tabs on you what with all the villains he faces.

Stomach churning, you almost threw up at the realization that this whole thing could be because of Peter. Not directly of course, he would never intentionally put you in harms way, but you’d heard his spiel nearly a hundred times. He had tried to leave you numerous times before because of the very fact that he was Spider-man. There would always be villains looking for ways to tear him down, and if they couldn’t do it directly, they’d go for the next best thing. You or his Aunt May.

Apparently they’d chosen you.

Every Time Peter caved into his fears, tried to do what’s best for you by taking his leave, you stopped him. You understood the dangers you could potentially face but ‘what if’s weren’t nearly enough to make you stop wanting to be with him. But it was easy to say things like that back then. You never truly thought you’d end up in a place like this, injured, all alone, isolated. You could be half across the entire country for all your knew. Maybe even on a different planet. Maybe even in a different realm entirely.

The thought of being light years away in the hands of some alien race was enough to finally draw tears to your eyes. You covered your mouth, leaning forward tensely as every bone in your body wailed in protest. In some ways you knew you were being over dramatic. The part of you that willed you to survive tried to soothe your nerves, told you that everything would be okay and if you weren’t rescued by Peter, you’d be rescued by someone else. However there also that one thought that drilled into every fiber of your being- the thought of being out of anyone's reach. Being somewhere else entirely away that no one would even know where to start searching for you.

Growing up with the rise of Heroes as well as villains you’d heard countless stories of survivors, people taken by evil. They were on the news and on articles all over, their faces next to hundreds of words that told of their courage and bravery even in the face of despair. When you were younger you wondered if someday you could be one of the people who would look evil in the eyes, unbreaking, unfaltering.

Yet here you were, and you were not brave. You were crying ugly and afraid, body trembling in both agony and dread. You were praying that someone would find you, take you away from wherever you were so you could go home. All those survivors all sounded the same, all saying that you truly find out who you are in times of great peril, and right now you were discovering the person that you were.

A coward.

There wasn’t a brave bone in your body.

Your thoughts were relentless against you, remembering every moment you’d spent making scenarios in your head about what you would do in a situation like this. In your head you were strong and durable. You were like Peter, with his lionheart and fearless gaze staring directly into the face of of danger, unafraid and ready for anything. All you wanted to do was sit and wait for something bigger than you both in spirit and in body to help you, to rescue you. You wanted Peter to rescue you, it was all you could think about.

Then you heard a soft ding, and something in your front pocket rumbled.

All at once your entire body surged with energy. You sat straight up, dug your fingers into your pocket, and you almost cried when you felt the hard edge of your phone. Pulling it out and clicking on the light you were temporarily blinded by the brightness of your screen, but when you managed to look past the saturation you actually sobbed out a relieved laugh at the texts bombarding your screen. Peter.

8:32 PM: where are you? you left the door unlocked :( you know how dangerous that is

8:36 PM: hellooooo

8:40 PM: ___ ??

8:45 PM: answer me

8:48 PM: please

8:51 PM: ___ this is serious i need to know that you’re okay

There was a gap, then the messages returned 40 minutes later.

9:37 PM: i wont let anything bad happen to you i promise im coming just stay right there dont go anywhere

9:45 PM: i cant get inside we cant get in unless you answer me

9:50 PM: please just tell me you’re okay in there please

Fingers shaking and head reeling, you typed so fast you could barely even make out what you were saying.

10:13 PM: petrr lwheer arw you

As soon as your message sent your phone started vibrating, your ringtone almost making you throw the item 10 feet away. It contrasted the empty silence so intensely. When you clicked answer and held it to your ear you once again almost cried in relief when his voice flooded the speaker.

“___! Oh my god I was so scared I- I thought you suffocated in there, I thought your phone was maybe broken or something I- Jesus ___ I’m so sorry-”

“Save the sorrys for later Parker, what’s her condition?” A voice cut him off in the background, and you recognized it. Tony, he was there too.

“Right, right- ___, can you hear me? Are you hurt? Can you breathe okay?”

The terror in his voice was evident, and even though he was afraid and you were in pain there was a great smile across your lips. If you were on the phone with him then you were still on Earth. You weren’t in the clutches of some alien race, you weren’t realms away from home, you weren’t planets and moons across the galaxy.

“Peter,” you wheezed, and the sheer breath of relief that left him made you shut your eyes in sollace. “I’m okay, I just-... Everything hurts but- I’m okay.”

He sniffled on the other end. “I thought you were dead, I- I’m sorry I didn’t come over earlier I had no idea-”

“It’s okay, wh-.. Where am I?” You tried your best not to cough into your words but it felt like every breath you were breathing in was made of dirt.

On the other end there was a commotion of voices, the sound of Peter in distress, when suddenly he sounded distant. Before you could ask what was going on Tony’s voice was on the other end.

“___? You there, kid?”

“I’m here.”

“Good, stay there. I need to know exactly where you are, can you see anything around you?”

You pulled the device from your ear and clicked speakerphone, turning the flashlight on and finally taking in your surroundings. It was exactly like you imagined it would be- grey, dull with rock walls and flooring. It almost resembled something cave-like.

“Am I in a cave?” Your voice wavered as you spoke.

There was a silence before Tony spoke up again. “Just a little one. It was a miner's cave back in ‘02. Listen kid, you can’t panic, got it? It’s all closed off which means air isn’t coming or going. I know this looks bad and scary but you gotta stay calm.”

It’s all closed off.

You felt a grave dread burrow its way into you.

Air isn’t coming or going.

It suddenly felt like your chest was constricting, your eyes widening at his words and the sight of your flashlight illuminating a pile of rubble in front of what you assumed to be the entrance. “Oh my god,” There wasn’t a shred of light peeking in through the stones and panic started rising in your throat. “Oh my god.”

“No, no, I said don’t panic!” Another commotion sounded and suddenly the phone was taken from him, Peter’s voice reaching you again.

“___ don’t freak out, we’re gonna’ get you out of there,” you couldn’t find it in yourself to reply, your breathing already harshening at the thought of being suffocated in some dank cave full of god knows what. “Listen to me! Breathe in, out, in, out, in, out.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your shaking and uneven breaths rising and falling along with his words. I can’t breathe, you thought in a mindless frenzy. I can’t breathe there isn’t enough air I’m suffocating- 

“In, out, in, out,”

“In,” You wheezed, clutching your chest, sucking in a breath of air, “out.” you released it then did it again, and again, and again.

Eventually you found it was working, your lungs starting to allow you to breath in evenly rather than taking in sharp breaths that didn’t seem to feel like enough at all. Over the receiver he could hear the cooling of your anxiety, and he spoke again.

“Good, just relax a little bit. We’ll get you out, okay?” His voice softened towards the end, and if he was only speaking like this to keep you calm than it was definitely working. Your free hand came to rest on the ground in front of you, holding your body up, and when you didn’t answer he repeated himself. “We’re going to get you out, ___.”

“I trust you,” You finally managed, eyes shutting tightly in hopes of trying to block everything out. “What do I do?”

Peter spoke to someone nearby him, presumably Tony before returning back to you. “Alright, I need you to get as far away from the pile as you can. We’re gonna blast it open and get you out of there.”

You nodded as though he could see you and you scooted back against the wall as far as you could, shrugging your head down into your shoulders incase debris reached you on the other end of the cave. It was small in size and even just looking, feeling the walls against you, made your throat start to feel like it was closing up again. Tears pricked your eyes again and you shook your head at your current situation. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You should be at home watching a movie, or walking along Queens’ streets with Peter, or doing anything other than trying to keep from suffocating in a cave.

“Are you away from it?” He asked, and you hiccuped.

“Yes, I’m away from it.”

“Okay,” He pulled the phone away from him. “GO!”

The moment he spoke out there was a great explosion, and the walls around you rumbled with such a force that you almost let out a scream. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling, and they bounced along the ground and atop your shaking skin. Another burst shook the cave and even more pieces of the ceiling fell, a hunk of stone crashing only inches from your legs and breaking apart in a million pieces, and the sound of it did make you cry out. Immediately Peter was talking to you again.

“What happened?” He yelled frantically, and you croaked out a reply.

“The ceilings falling-”

“Did it hurt you?!” He shouted distantly again. “Wait, stop! Don’t set off another one!”

“It almost did- Oh god what if it caves in-”

“It won’t, we won’t let that happen, I promise.”

“Peter it’s a cave you can’t control it-”

“__! I’m not gonna let you die here, okay?”

You leaned your head back against the wall and this time the ripping pain barely registered with you. Head swimming, you tried to even your breaths again. Something was happening- you could feel it. All of you wanted to believe Peter’s words of comfort, but you were so scared, so afraid that this would be the end of you. There wasn’t enough words in the world to stop the absolute anguish eating away at you. But, an odd feeling starting taking over. It wasn’t frantic or desperate like you’d been moments ago. Despite the scenario, in knowing there was a grave chance you’d never see light again, you felt almost… Fatigued. Tired. It felt like there was a hole forming in your chest.

You realized with dread what that numbing feeling was.  With your cries of fear, your panic attack rendering you momentarily unavailable, you’d used up so much oxygen. So much precious air. The thing that affected you the most, however, was the dawning realization that even with your predicament there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air to make you panic all over again like you should have. You should be freaking out, begging him to hurry up. Instead the fear rippled under your skin, made tears fall down your cheeks in a mellow show of apprehension. Too tired, you thought. 

“Peter,” you spoke quietly into the phone. “Are you there?”

“Of course,” He answered equally softly, as though he knew your state. It wouldn’t be hard to guess, you supposed, given your worn out breaths.

“Peter, there isn’t enough air.”

You said it so easily, like it meant nothing. The anesthetic of thin air made you almost too exhausted to keep crying. It wasn’t like you wanted to die- you’d give anything to keep fighting, to be one of those people you used to read of, but you couldn’t feel it. Even speaking suddenly felt like a chore- and you wished you could have kicked your past self for using so much oxygen while freaking out over being out of Peter’s reach. He was only a wall away the whole time. You’d breathed it all in during your break down for nothing.

“We’re almost in, just…” Peter sounded helpless, and you knew the feeling. “Don’t give up on me. We’ll get in there, please, please don’t give up.”

“I’m not going to.” You spoke, and again, it was easy to say. You realized something drastic, however. You weren’t speaking to soothe yourself, but to soothe him instead. Everything in your head felt fuzzy and numb.

Another bomb set off outside the walls of the cave but you didn’t flinch this time, not even when another boulder of stone slammed directly next to your lap. Dust surrounded you, painting over your skin and clothes. It started to feel like you were holding your breath.

You mumbled into the phone, “I love you.”.

“Don’t,” He whispered, strained. “It’s almost open, don’t you dare,” He was frantic now, voice picking up. “___ I mean it, please, you can’t leave me.”

You could imagine him right now. Jaw tense, shoulders squared. He’d look as menacing as Peter Parker could. Tony would be watching him right now, wondering what to do. He’d never been good at support.

If you could cry, you would have. Instead your chest felt heavy, either with sorrow or lack of oxygen, you couldn’t tell. The surreal feeling of floating started to blanket you, and you could actually feel the carbon dioxide filling your lungs at every breath. You wanted to panic. You wanted to claw your way free, rip each bolder out of it’s place and dig yourself out, kiss Peter and tell him you’re safe, but you couldn’t. You were not strong enough. 

The phone dropped from your hands and Peter still tried to talk to you over the speakerphone. 

Everything around you vibrated again but you barely registered it, your eyes closing on their own accord. Through your numbness your chest started to hurt, your breaths coming more and more frequent. It felt like you were gasping, body desperate for something rich, but it never came, Something in the musty air changed and you felt like you were weightless. This was it.

You could see him.

Basked in white light, his form glowing almost angelically. He was so afraid, moving in slow motion like a dream. You couldn’t find it in yourself to reach out and touch him even after he came closer, dropped to his knees in front of you. Everything was underwater. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear him. All the muffled echoes barely reached you. His fingers pressed against your cheek, he made you look at up him. 

You blinked once.

Twice.

Three times. 

And then you gasped, and every fiber of your being ripped from it’s dream and planted itself back into its place, back within the cave, back within the body of the person now shrouded in light and voices.

You couldn’t see anything anymore through the vibrant shine of white, but you could feel and you could breathe and it ached so badly but you sputtered through every breath and found yourself clinging hard to the figure in front of you. There were so many voices that your head was reeling all over again, confusion settling deep within your still foggy brain, but among them you picked out one in particular.

“I’ve got you,” it spoke, “You’re okay, I told you you’d be okay.”

Every part of you shook, clung onto it, breathed every last bit of air you could take in. Hands gripped at your arms and side and you didn’t fight, just let them hoist you up until you were tucked into someone's arms. You knew these arms.

Suddenly you were so cold, and the air changed so drastically that you coughed and wheezed with every single breath. It felt so fresh, and it was such a stark difference that it reached the very depths of your lungs. There was almost just so much of it- that rich, freezing yet precious air. Your head swam with consciousness, your body felt so heavy and grounded. Everything was happening so fast and there was so much of it but you managed to open your eyes just as you were set down on something much softer than the ground.

A bed, and above you, you could see stars. Thousands of them, twinkling and bright, and even though you felt like your entire body was broken they were soothing. Then you saw Peter. He was looking down at you with such a fearful expression, and he did not look brave. His lionheart had been gutted. His hands trembled when he touched at your cheek, his eyes glistening with tears when you blinked up at him.

“Whats going on?” You whispered.

He laughed. He faced down for a moment, shoulders shuddering, and when he looked back up at you there was everything in his eyes. It was the same expression he had when you told him you loved him for the first time, the same expression when you said you didn’t care what the future had in store for you so long as you and him were together. Grateful, adoring, but afraid. So afraid.

Even through your almost headless state you wondered what would happen after this. Surely he’d insist the danger was too much for you.

“You’re okay,” Peter breathed. “You’re out of there, we’re going to a hospital.”

“We?”

He nodded, wiped his eyes, and grinned. “Well, yeah, we. You were right, we- I’m not gonna’ leave you. I mean if you want to leave me I get it- I- understand- But-”

“Talk about it later,” Someone said, and this time you didn’t have it in you to determine who it was. Peter nodded, swallowed, and then you were moving. The bed you were laying on was hoisted up and put back down into what you recognized as an ambulance, and luckily Peter crawled in too.

You lifted a hand and he took it without hesitation, his calloused hands as soft as they’ve ever been against your skin. A breath of relief escaped you, a breath that you would never take for granted again.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Everything around you felt like it was going to concave. You were irrationally afraid the roof of the ambulance door was going to fall and crush you. Your lungs felt heavy and full at the same time. All the nerves in your body felt shot and burnt out, and the back of your head ached something awful, but none of it was enough to stop you from squeezing his hand and smiling.

Peter’s eyes were full of tears yet again. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped to look down before peering back up at you. He could be such a baby sometimes, you realized. He cried easily, but then again so did you. You were both as human as you could be.

You squeezed his hand again and imagined bad hospital food, get well cards, and Peter staying beyond visiting hours. Your heart longed for it all, the recovering process, the worry, the forgiveness, everything. Though it ached you tugged his hand to your lips, kissed at his shaking knuckles, and shut your eyes. 

“I love you too.”

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