#[ i'm screaming and crying and punching the air over them ]

[eddie]

ANSWERED ASK for : @bnchee ❛ [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc.  ❜

⛧˖ ─── EVEN WITH THE PREPAREDNESS THAT THE weather forecast had provided the venue, the sudden shift in the elements had been swift and violent enough to warrant the cancelation of the days’ scheduled events. All of the rain jackets and umbrellas in the world couldn’t have saved the attendees from the turbulent winds that swept through the festival grounds, shaking the tents and causing the structures to sway in their wake. It had been drizzling all weekend, the blue of the sky desaturated by the billowing silver clouds that covered the sun, but now the rain was coming down in heavy sheets from black skies, whipping through the atmosphere and lashing at the walls and windows of the tour buses with a force that could almost be perceived as wrathful.

            Despite the war that mother nature waged just beyond the thin walls, however, Eddie found an unexpected calmness in the humble space of Sawyer’s bedroom. It was as though her presence, in and of itself, echoed something akin to the quiet eye of a hurricane— an ironic concept, considering he’d recently begun to discover that she was just as much a storm as she was the stillness of the center. The metalhead had braved the elements to get there, sprinting through the rows of parked buses and trailers while raindrops pelted his skin like tiny bullets, soaking him from head to toe. By the time he’d flown through her front door, he looked a little something like a WET DOG, the mop of disheveled locks atop his head weighed down by the concentration of water that now dripped from the ends. It had taken little more than seeing the crinkle of her nose and the dimples of her cheeks when she’d smiled at him to convince him that it had all been totally worth it though.

            Now, with his shirt in a soggy heap on the floor and his dark curls clinging to his skin, Eddie was atop Sawyer’s bed, big brown eyes blinking admiringly from his place on a pillow as his gaze traveled through each feature of her sweet face. It had only been a day since they’d first kissed, but since then, those pretty lips of hers had been all he’d thought about. Kissing her was all he wanted to do. An impish note began to color the expression on his face, curving his mouth into a slanted grin as his arm reached out to snake around her slender waist, pulling her closer to him. His cold skin was dusted in goosebumps, although it wasn’t entirely the result of the cold air. The proximity of their bodies may have had a lot something to do with it.

            ❝ You’re so warm, ❞ Eddie began with a feigned gasp, the curvature of his grin widening almost deviously. There was a pause, his tattooed forearm tightening around the lithe circumference of her frame in case she thought about squirming away, and then his chilled fingers were dipping upwards beneath the hem of her shirt to settle against the heat of her back. He couldn’t help it. Before Sawyer could even retaliate, his lips were capturing her own in a gentle but drawn-out kiss, his smile never leaving his expression.

[vapekingg]

You and Eddie have this running joke.

Or at least it started as a joke.

Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.

So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.

You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.

He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?

But it was always you.

Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?

That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.

"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.

You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.

"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.

Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.

"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."

Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.

The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.

"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.

And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.

"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.

With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.

"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."

Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.

Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.

"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.

That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.

"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"

Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.

"Won't they?"

[narfin-frood]

pivotal moment where wander "has to" integrate sylvia into the hivemind and it EATS at him and it's the catalyst for a great deal of his redemption arc

GOOD PROMPT!!!! VERY GOOD PROMPT!!! i'm sorry the captions and timing are a little fuckedup but i could not REST until i finished this. i do recommend pausing to read some of this, and if that ends up being tedious, i'll put the thumbnails with a transcript under the cut!!

TRANSCRIPT:

[interior, planet yonder. wander growls in distress, green lightning sparking around him]

MR. METEOR: peepers, we gotta get outta here! [he grabs peepers by the hand and takes off]

WANDER: N-N-N-NO! YOU WILL NOT UNDO ALL MY HARD WORK!!

[wander growls again. sylvia covers her head to protect from falling objects]

SYLVIA: WANDER! are you okay??

WANDER: I'M FINE!!!

SYLVIA: really?? cuz this place is lookin' like it might not hold up much longer!!

WANDER: NO!!!

[wander rubs his forehead with his fingers, grimacing with effort. the lightning dissipates. cut to mr. meteor and sir peepers, at a crossroads. mr. meteor is looking up and around the ceiling as peepers scampers around him, looking for the way out]

SIR PEEPERS: ohhhh where'd we park?? which way is out??? ohhh grop it all looks the same!!! we're trapped!!!

MR. METEOR: it stopped...

SIR PEEPERS: [glances upward] ...huh.

[cut back to sylvia and wander]

SYLVIA: that's some willpower you got there, buddy...

WANDER: sylvia?

SYLVIA: hm?

WANDER: i want you to go after them. and i want you... to hurt them.

SYLVIA: wh...what...?

WANDER: i believe i've made myself clear.

SYLVIA: [shakes her head] no. i'm not doing that. you don't want me to do that.

WANDER: AND WHO ARE YOU TO ARGUE??? FOR THE GOOD OF THE COLONY, SISTER, I ORDER YOU TO GET THEM!!!

[wander breathes heavily from the effort of screaming. sylvia looks disgusted.]

SYLVIA: [removing her cloak] alright.

WANDER: w-w-wait, what're you doing?

SYLVIA: i'm leaving. [she wads up her cloak into a ball] if this is the kinda operation you're running now, i don't wanna be part of it. have fun spreading kindness across the galaxy.

[wander stares at her, wide-eyed and baring his teeth in an intense frown, as she walks away]

WANDER: [reaching out to grab her with several arms] YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[cut to mr. meteor and peepers, who are running down a tunnel]

MR. METEOR: are you sure we're going the right way??

SIR PEEPERS: i have NO IDEA sir

MR. METEOR: it opens up ahead! this might be the way out!

[camera zooms in and focuses on the end of the tunnel. something drops from the ceiling right in front of the exit, unfolding itself to take the form of sylvia. she has two mushroom arms sticking out of the sides of her head, connected to the ceiling, and her cloak is on again.]

MR. METEOR: UH-OH!

SIR PEEPERS: OH GROP

[closeup on sylvia's face. she snorts]

MR. METEOR: she doesn't look too happy, peepers!

SIR PEEPERS: why are you saying that like it's MY fault??

[sylvia mimics rolling up the sleeve she doesn't have and crouches, preparing to leap. peepers reaches for his sword.]

SYLVIA: GRRH!

[sylvia leaps into the air, screaming, aiming for peepers]

SYLVIA: YAAAAAAAAH!!!

SIR PEEPERS: ENGARDE, SHE-BEAST!

[shot changes to a flat shot from the side, and sylvia sails over peeper's head, crash-landing on the floor with a smack. she slides forward until she arrives at mr. meteor's feet.]

MR. METEOR: uhh...?

[sylvia shoots back to her feet, grabbing mr. meteor by the collar and winding back to punch him in the face}

MR. METEOR: WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOA WAIT!! NOOOOOO NOT THE FAAAAAAACE!

[sylvia's fist makes surprisingly gentle contact with hater's jaw. he looks at her in confusion, and sees her crying]

MR. METEOR: uhh. okay. um.

[he begins to scoot past her and away. sylvia crumples to the ground, shaking]

MR. METEOR: seems like you're goin' through a lot right now, and...if you're done, y'know, trying to kill us, or whatever that was...

[he trails off and makes eye contact with Sir Peepers. They dash off down the tunnel and disappear.]

[webslingingslasher]

can we get more pain kinky Petey 🤲?

spider-man had a rough week.

not peter parker, he's doing fine. things are going great with you and him, classes have never been easier, and was named member of the month. (only because you baked cookies for the whole frat but a win is a win.)

but spider-man took some hard falls and punches and you grazing each sore spot has him falling deeper and deeper into you. letting go and having you obsess over them rewrites it as a good week.

your touches aren't so unintentional now. you're hunting for the purply-blues and barely pressing in. the fourth one you see is on his ribcage. 'you're all bruised up.'

'mhm, how 'bout you count them?'

it takes a minute, but you twist your head away to get a chance at air. peter takes his time, each mark he gives you is intentional. they start at the corner of your mouth and it's heading south to your neck.

you recount the first four, searching for more. you poke at his shoulder, whispering the increased number. there's a lined bruise on his hip, you squeeze the skin- peter hisses through his teeth.

'my baby's all beaten up.'

you press in, peter grinds against you. you start to dig into the other marks, peter tries to kiss you but it falls into an open-mouthed moan at a particularly harsh stab.

'wanna hurt your baby a little more?'

you lift your neck up just enough to sink your teeth into the top of his arm, grabbing a chunk and slowly pulling back. peter's digging his teeth into his bottom lip, you release and take a bigger bite right below while pressing the bruise at the bottom of his ribcage.

a melted groan, you can't help but smirk when you attack his other arm. peter's hold over you waivers, his elbows buckle momentarily and you take initiative by shoving him to his back. you mount him, poking at each purple mark you can see.

you look at three rings of your teeth, slowly moving your hands up his chest, you smile innocently at his flushed face. you dig your nails in, little crescents immediately imprinted.

peter takes a deep breath, you drag your nails down. a trail of inflamed skin comes with it, peter's back arches off the bed.

'fuck!'

you give him no release, bending in half to bite his bruised hip. peter squirms, whimpering and gripping your hair. 'hurts, hurts so bad.' you're not sure how you're not tearing through his skin, but you bite down harder. a pitiful cry follows.

you stop, clawing at his other hip and leaving another streak of pink skin. 'i swear i'm gonna make you bleed some day.'

'i triple dog dare you.'

'excuse you, i'm not a sadist, sir.' you hold back a giggle when he jumps under your lap, hard and waiting against your thigh. 'that's too bad because you happen to be dating a masochist.'

you raise an eyebrow, 'dating?'

peter shoves your head down, begging for another bite at his bruise.

'make me bloody.'

you chew until he screams. 

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

apologies

noun

a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or or failure.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪✧•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Sebastian Solace.

Your heart ached for him.

He was perfection in itself—no, he's better than perfection.

Your sole purpose in life is to love him, you're sure of it.

How could someone like you deserve someone like him?

He's too good for you.

You never deserved to be with him.

There will always be someone better than you.

The thoughts turned sour immediately, running through your head all at once.

Your heart hurt, too heavy and fragile to handle these horrible thoughts that plagued your very being.

You needed Sebastian's attention, bad. You craved it. It's all that gave your life purpose and meaning.

Why does your mind have to spiral when he's gone?

"I'm back—oh." Sebastian's eyes ran over your body. Your face was tucked into your knees, arms hugging your legs closely.

"You hate me, don't you, Seb?" Your voice felt small, too weak to be deemed a voice. How pathetic could you possibly get?

"I—" You cut him off, "don't lie to me." Your eyes stared into his bright blue ones, you couldn't even recognize him. His face was nothing but a giant mess, obstructed by your tears of pure anger.

"[Name], I love you, don't say that." His words felt like a lie. Everything he told you felt like a lie. How could he hurt you like this? Didn't he love you?

"You're a fucking liar." You spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears streaming down your face.

The only thing circling in his head was what could have possibly went wrong. You were so sweet and happy earlier, what did he do wrong? Sebastian tried to reason with you, but you stormed out of his hideout. He didn't bother chasing you, figuring that you needed alone time.

Sebastian stared at the spot you were curled up in. He knew you didn't mean those harsh words... Right?

You ran as far away as you could from his hideout. You hated him. You hated Sebastian. You wanted him dead.

He didn't care about you. He wouldn't even run after you. You would have done it in a heartbeat—

Oh.

Oh.

You ruined everything. You sabotaged a beautiful relationship because of your selfishness. Why...?

You hadn't even realized it. Your legs gave out, stopping right in front of an office room.

You quickly scrambled into it, hiding in the corner next to a locker. Your body curled up into fetal position.

Everything hit all at once.

Guilt.

Anger.

Sadness.

It felt horrible. Your emotions controlled you as if you were some puppet. Why? You felt so helpless. You just wanted to be in his arms in the safety of his hideout.

'Shit...' Sebastian was getting lost, he realized he shouldn't have let you run off like that.

"[Name]?" His voice called out for you, yet there was no trace. It was almost as if you had vanished into thin air.

His tail slithered faster and faster, desperate to find you.

Something bad could have happened. Had an angler come by? Oh, fuck.

Muffled sobs stopped him in his tracks, he followed the noise.

Sebastian had to catch his breath before he entered the opened room. "[Name]?" He spoke softly, noticing your once again curled up body.

"D—Don't look at me! Go away!" You cried out, hugging your knees even tighter.

The sight made his heart break. Sure, he's seen you like this numerous times, but that doesn't lessen the reality of the situation.

He moved closer to you, scooping you up into his arms despite your broken sentence telling him not to.

You punched his chest, sobbed, and screamed while he held you. "I— don't deserve..."

Your cries came to a halt. You had exhausted yourself enough to where you fell asleep.

Your cheeks were tear stained, but Sebastian wiped them away.

"I got you."

You woke up, were you dead?

A blinding yellow light came into view. It was Sebastian's lure.

The memory of your actions came flooding back, and you nearly started crying again before he held you close.

"It's okay. I promise. I love you, and I always will no matter what."

"You don't mean that." You sniffled, a tear falling from your eye.

"I do. I mean it. I love you with every fiber of my being." His left hand made its way onto your face, gently caressing it.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You shut your eyes, hot tears falling down your cheeks.

"It's okay, I promise. I know you don't mean it." Sebastian leaned back so that you would be half lying on him.

"I love you, okay?" He pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

In the blink of an eye, you felt somewhat better. No hatred or guilt enveloped your being. Ah. Finally.

Peace in your mind.

[whxrecruxxes]

MIAMI, THE CITY THAT KEEPS THE ROOF BLAZIN'- ln4

pairing- lando norris x fem! reader genre- established relationship (idk yall) OH ALSO victory smut warning- SMUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTT (you dirty dirty ppl, don't be silly, wrap your willy), victory head ( my boy lando deserves it), lowk pda ???? idk yall tell me if you spot any lollolololol summary- when your boyfriend brings back his first ever GP win, there seems to be only one way you both think of celebrating. GUYS GUYS GUYS HE DID IT I ACC CRIED OUR BOY DID IT !!! LAND NORRIS, GP WINNER. LANDO NOWINS IS NO MORE. GUYS I WAS ACC UNWELL, I CAN'T EVEN I WAS CRYING SO HARD 🥺 anwayyyyyyysssss this is not proofread so sorry if there are any spelling mistakes

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Those last few laps, you could barely sit still. You spent them biting your bottom lip and pinching your forearm underneath the orange of your hoodie, too scared to even move. Especially after that DNF during the sprint, Lando did not have high hopes for the race, he had told you so right before you two got to the track that morning. And now here you are, sitting in the garage near Lando's dad, fiddling with the promise ring around your finger. Tears started blurring your vision as the final lap was announced, your legs shaking despite you sitting down. When he crosses the finish line, you can barely contain your sobs and your body folds forward as you press your hand over your mouth, Lando's father cheering and rubbing your bag softly. Zak comes running in from the Pit wall, cheering and whooping as he runs towards you.

"He did it ! He fuckin did it !" He yells, wrapping you in his arms and jumping up and down. He's laughing and cheering as he pulls away from you, holding your hand.

"You need to come down with us. He'll want to see you." He says.

"But i'm not allowed. I don't want to get in trouble." Adam nods beside you.

"You should. Knowing my boy, he'll want to celebrate with you." Zak nods, sighing heavily.

"Besides, what the hell they gonna do ? Lando will punch anyone who tries to take you away from him. And he would punch us for not dragging you along, so come on !" You let yourself get taken away, softly crying as you're guided down to the track. You see Lando climb out of his car and punch the air, holding a one with his finger. You can hear him screaming through his helmet, his voice raw. He jumps off the car and is immediately swarmed by max and carlos, who hug the younger driver amicably. He turns towards his team, where you're nestled between his engineer and his father, barely visible in the sea of orange and height. He takes his helmet off, placing it down on he floor, before running up to his team.They instantly grab him and lift him above their heads, bouncing him up and down as they cheer and he laughs. Seeing that smile on his face makes your heart warm.

He's waited for this for so long.

When he's placed down on the floor, his father pats his shoulder and Lando drapes his arms around him tightly. The smile on his face is wider than you've ever seen when he backs away, and it only grows when he finally spots you.

"Baby !" His eyes grow and he lunges for you, shoving anybody out of his way that seemed to be suffocating you in the tiniest way. His arms wrap around you and he kisses the inside of your neck as you lean up on your tiptoes.

"You did it, Lan." You sob as he pulls away. "I'm so proud of you, baby." He cups your cheeks and kisses you, so long and so hard it shoves all air out of your lungs. It knocks you on your ass, falling back to your flat feet and him leaning over the railing to get better access to your lips. His teeth graze your bottom lip, his hands venturing into your hair to tug you closer. You whimper in his kiss, fully aware of the people cheering around you and the cameras probably angled towards you. When he finally pulls away, he kisses your forehead and wipes away your tears. He stares down at you, absolutely ecstatic, before he's dragged away to the med tent.

The podium is even more of a fever dream, watching him spray champagne all over his team below and the other drivers spray him all over, not even leaving him a moment to speak. He winks down at you and you can't help the rumble in your stomach. The promise of celebration is always evident whenever Lando is on the podium - but his first ever win ? There is no way you'll be able to walk tomorrow. And it's already bad enough whenever he looses.

You feel a tug on your arm as the Podium Celebrations come to an end.

"Psst." You turn around to be greeted by Lando's engineer, who seems quite annoyed to be the one to have to tell you this.

"Lando wants you to meet him in his driver's room. He says he needs to speak to you." He says, nodding slightly. You smile at him and thank him, starting to break away from the crowd, but he tugs you back. "Look, i know it's his first win but let's not have a remake of Austria. I don't think anybody could unhear that for months. Just.. try to be quiet." he says, offering you a kind smile to lessen your obvious embarassement. You nod, too scared to speak, and break away from the crowd. Your steps are hurried as you rush to his room, your cheeks red. You knock on the door and wait patiently, anxiously looking over your shoulder. When the door finally slides open, your heart leaps into your throat. He's torn off his suit, the fireproof soaked with champagne and sweat sticking to his sculpted chest and arms. His soft curls are soaked with champagne, the soft cut on the bridge of his nose from the week before reddened with irritation. You smile up at him instantly pushing him into the room and shutting the door behind you. He wraps his arms around you and breathes in your scent, hands gripping you tight.

"My girl." He mutters into your neck, which makes you giggle and tears start to flow up into your eyes again. You pulling away from him, cupping his cheeks.

"I'm so happy for you, baby." You mutter, running your thumb over his nose bridge. "I can finally say i'm dating a race winner." You say. He smiles, gripping your waist.

"Don't you want to say you've fucked a race winner ?" He says, moving your hair away from your neck to wrap his lips around the soft skin. You whimper as soon as his lips come on contact with your skin, leaning into his touch.

"Maybe later." you breathe. He pulls away, frowning.

"Maybe later ? C'mon now, baby, you're hurting my feelings." He jokes. You roll your eyes, softly untying the knot he's made around his hips with his suit.

"Of course you'll get to do that, Lan." You breathe out. If it's one thing Lando knew, is that you were always insatiable for him- and he for you. There was not a moment in public where his hands weren't on your hips and ass, and that your hands weren't combing his hair or kissing his cheeks. Most people found it quite sickening and they would tell you, but Lando would refuse to let you back away, even when you were embarassed that someone would point it out.

Your fingers push the suit apart, shoving it down his legs.

"Whatcha doing now, then ?" He asks, smiling lazily. You look up at him, grinning.

"Giving you a proper celebration." You mutter, pushing his fireproof up his abs as you kiss your way down, kneeling down to your knees. You blindly pat on your wrists to find a hair tie but you can't for the life of you find one. You're about to resort to just shoving your hair down your shirt to keep it out of the way when lando tilts your head up. He slips a hair tie off his wirst.

"Here you go, love. Always have one on hand." He mutters, smiling in that boyish smile that makes you want to give in to his drunken gaze and let him bend you over like he obviously is dreaming of. But he's always the one to make sure you feel good. Now, it's your turn to make him see stars.You tie your hair back quickly and kiss your way down his thighs, fingers grazing his abdomen as they loop around the band on his boxers.

"C'mon, princess, don't tease me." He begs. He's losing his shit, watching you on your knees, eyes already heavy lidded. that bright papaya dress stretching perfectly around your breasts and ass, too far away from him to grab but still delicious enough to stare at. His hand wraps around your ponytail, establishing his grip on you as you finally tug his boxers down. His cock springs up, and your eyes widen, already salivating at the sight. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you wrap your hand around him and softly lick at the precum gathering there, making his head tilt back and a heavy breath leave his chest. He looks like a mess in your grip, his fireproof still halfway pushed up from when you were kissing your way down, and he's made no move to lower it, giving you a great view of his abs.

His grip around your hair tightens and he licks his lips, looking down at you as you ease the veiny length inside your mouth, running your tongue along the vein on the underside, right where you know makes him shiver.

"Fuck, baby, not so fast." he grumbles as your cheeks hollow around him, your hand pumping the rest of the length you couldn't fit in your mouth. He's heavy in your mouth, choking you in the best way possible. He brushes away a tear from the corner of your eye, groaning as he notices your thighs clenching to relive some of the pressure building up. At first, seeing you cry as you sucked him off scared him. The first time ever, he pulled away from you and knelt down beside you, gushing over you as how scared he was to hurt you. After a while he learnt that it was just the way tour face muscles were stretched, but that doesn't mean that seeing you cry doesn't scare him when he sees it. Although right now, your tongue is swirling around his tip, and he's clutching your hair tighter, his groans getting louder.

"Ah, fuck, baby. You take me so well- Shit, I can't wait to be inside you." Your eyes roll back into your skull as you hear those words, feeling your juices coating your thighs beneath your dress. Your pumps start moving faster, your hand tightening around his length and your tongue swirling around his tip. He shoves you down closer to him, groaning as he feels the pressure build up in his stomach. You can tell by the way his cock twitches in your mouth, throbbing with release. Knowing it'll drive him crazy, you pull away, kitten licking down his length, driving him away from his orgasm. He grumbles.

"God, please stop teasing me." He begs, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back, running his thumb along your bottom lip. You get to your feet, ankles wobbly, hand still wrapped around his length. He pulls you to him, lips wrapping around yours, his own hands moving fast to push the flimsy material of your dress up and past you hips all while tugging the top down to reveal your breasts. You hum into his kiss.

"Lan-Lan, we have to be quiet."

"Quiet ? Baby, i just won my first race. I want the entire paddock to know. Hell, the whole of Miami." He tears his firepoof off finally, revealing his abs to you as he grabs your waist and hoists you up, letting you wrap your thighs around his waist. You giggle as he drops you down onto the couch and slots his body between your legs, kissing your neck. A breathy moan leaves your lips as you cup his neck, running your fingers in his curls, biting your bottom lip. He smells of sweat and champagne, and it makes your heart race.

Lando Norris, Race winner.

"You ready, baby ?" He asks, looking up at you as he pushes your underwear to the side. You nod, and you feel his tip slide through your folds. He pushes in slightly, and a drawn out whine of his name leaves your lips, welcoming the stretch.

"Ah, Lan." You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. He kisses your exposed collarbone, his hand reaching up to tug your bra down.

"God, you're so wet f'me, darling. So fucking good for me- My good girl. You want more ? Want to take all of it ?" He asks, his tone teasing as you whine underneath him.

"Please, Lan, please." You beg. He kisses your temple, before pushing into you fully, bottoming into you fully, letting out a low groan. Your walls clench around him and he groans, catching your lips with his, his hand wrapping around your throat slightly.

"God you have no idea how bad i wanted you when I saw you when i got out of that car." He mutters, his hips rutting against yours, his tip hitting that spongy spot deep within you that makes your eyes roll.

"That entire last lap i was thinking of you, baby. My pretty girl, taking me so fucking well." His words are edging you on, your thighs shaking as his rough hands palm them to plough you harder and faster. he bites down on your neck slightly, eliciting a loud moan from you. The rythmic banging of the couch against the wall is deafening, and you convince yourself that there's no need to stay quite anymore when he sits up, sitting you down in his lap and rilling your hips against his. You throw your head back, his hands moving your hips to match the pace at which hes thrusting up into you.

The new angle pushes lewd whimpers and moans out of you, and he seems to relish in it. If there's one thing Lando loves more than you, it's hearing how good he makes you feel. Whether its you telling him straight up or the moans and whimpers he forces out of you, which he enjoys tremendously. Wrapping his arm around your waist firmly, he pulls you in, your hips relentlessly chasing that feeling building up within you.

"God, Lando."

"You close, hm ? You wanna come all over my dick, hm ?" He asks. Your bury you hands in his curls, biting your bottom lip, your thighs shaking as he lifts up to thrust into you at your pace. Your wall squeeze around him and he groans, head falling onto your shoulder as he kisses your exposed breasts and collarbone. Soft whimpers and moans are leaving your lips, and that just seems to drive him further. His thumbs reaches down to press on your clit, and your back arches at the overstimulation.

"Ah- Lan, fuck, i-i can't. S'too much." You whine, licking your lips.

"You can take it, c'mon baby. Open your eyes, look at me." He says as you open your eyes to look at him. He bites his bottom lip. "Fuck, you're so goregous like this. I fuckin' love you so much, baby."

That's enough to drive you insane, gushing around him as your walls flutter around his throbbing length, your body falling forward as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. He follows suit, emptying himself inside you, groaning into your ear as you keep your grip on his sweaty curls, kissing his neck lazily.

"Did so good f'me, babe." He mutters, softly lifting you off of him. You whimper at the loss of him, feeling empty. he blindly reaches over to a towel beside him, softly placing you beside him and bringing the towel to between your legs. You whine as he grazes your overstimulated core, and he kisses your temple, apologising underneath his breath profusely. Lando may love pleasuring you, especially after good races, but he usually gets taken away and hurts you- and that's the last thing he wants.

"I'm sorry, my love. You know how i get after good races." He mutters, adjusting your underwear back over your core and pull your dress back down your thighs and up to cover up your breasts. He grabs a spare pair of boxers and jeans from the chair, before slipping on a clean shirt and walking back to you, lovingly tucking you against him. You breathe in his scent, the new clothes still heavy with his cologne.

"It's okay. I like celebrating with you, like this." You mutter, fingers tracing the soft veins in his neck. "I really am proud of you, Lan. I couldn't sit still those last few laps." You say, not meeting his eyes. He chases your gaze, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours.

"You were the one thing i thought of." He says, tucking your hair behind your ear. "You're my everything, love, and I couldn't think of anyone else better to celebrate with." He says, smiling.

A soft knock is heard behind the door.

"Right, you done shagging now ?" You go rigid at the Aussie accent, covering your reddening face. Lando laughs and answers,

"Come in, Osc !" Oscar pulls open the door, walking in on you snuggled into your boyfriends chest.

"Lily wanted me to ask if you guys want to go out for dinner."

"I dunno.. What do you think, darling ?" He asks, fiddling with your hair, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb."Think you'll be able to walk ?" He whispers. Your cheeks go red and you look up at Oscar, making sure he didn't hear. You shove at his face, rolling your eyes.

"We'd love to, Osc." He smiles at you, before leaving the room. Before he's fully out, he turns to face you guys.

"Also.. Maybe keep it down next time- the entire hospitality was shaking." He says, before finally turning away and leaving. You cover your face, embarassed, but Lando kisses your forehead affectionately.

"C'mon, love. We've got a proper celebration to get to." He says, helping you up. You frown.

"So that wasn't the celebration ?" You ask. He winks.

"No, baby. That was just the beginning, there's more coming when we get home, so you better get that little ass up and jog it into my car so i can devour you the second we cross that door." He says.

You don't think you've gotten up faster.

And of course, as always, Lando held up his end of the deal, your thighs shaking underneath the table at dinner with Oscar and Lily, his hand on your thigh.

If this is what winning a race is like, you never want him to lose ever again.

[captainjamster]

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

-

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

-

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

-

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

[m-musings]

okokokok, i LOVE how you wrote the overwatch boys, and I have a kind of long-winded request for Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, and (if you write for him) Ramattra:

their s/o was previously a test subject for Talon experiments, something they have nightmares about. how would the boys react to their partner having one of said nightmares and trying to attack the person trying to wake them up.

ik this is kinda specific, but thank you if you write it! ♡♡♡♡

A/n: oooo this is a good request, let's hope my angsty writing chops are up to par bcuz i really hope this lives up to what you want (hcs under the cut!)

Warnings: general angst, accidental physical violence, mentions & implications of past torture (also op doesn't really know how to write nightmares/night terrors asdfghjkl) Word Count:1586

Headcanons: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo and Ramattra with a Former Talon Test Subject S/O (Separate)

Cassidy:

When Cassidy awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you fiercely muttering at no one, its safe to say he's concerned.

He listens for a moment as you make alarmed noises, trying to discern what exactly is going on.

After turning over to flip on the light, he glances over at your sleeping form thrashing around with your brow furrowed in terror.

"N-no... get a...away f-from me..." Cassidy hears you say clearly, getting more worried by the second.

As he begins to reach over to try and rouse you from your slumber, the volume of your voice grows from a to an earsplitting shriek.

As you keep screaming, you start becoming combative, slapping and punching at Cass while somehow still asleep.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Jus' h-hold on a darn second here!" He says as he tries to block your attacks by grabbing your hands.

"No! NO! Let me out!" You wail as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Darlin', it's a dream, you gotta wake up! I'm here, just open your eyes!"

Debating between forcing you to wake up and just continuing to reassure you and talk you down from the fear, he decides that the latter is probably going to be the safest for both of you.

After a several minutes long struggle, you slowly stop trying to fight Cole as your once frantic breathing begins to return to its normal pace.

Your tired eyes begin to blink open as the last bit of panic leaves your body in a few small gasps. When you fully regain consciousness, Cassidy sighs in relief as realization begins to sink into your thoughts.

"Are you okay, what the hell happened there?!" Questions Cole as he smooths his hands over your hair.

Choking out a small sob, you gently grasp his bicep to try and ground yourself as more tears begin to fall from your eyes.

"Cass, I-I'm sorry... I- I was back in Talon and the pain j-just wouldn't stop!"

His heart drops at the mention of the evil organization, knowing what kind of awful treatment you went through while kept there.

"I tr-tried to get away but I just.... couldn't! It was awful!" You whisper as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Darlin' I'm so sorry... I am so sorry..." Cole responds faintly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

The room grows still again for a moment, with only the sound of your hushed weeps filling the air.

"I don't wanna go back, please don't let them take me!" You cry into Cole's shoulder as he holds you close.

"No, no, you won't. I swear that as long I'm breathin', I will always make sure you never have to go through that ever again."

Genji:

Genji is all too familiar with nightmares. During the first couple years after his confrontation with Hanzo, he would very frequently have them. He's been through that whole song and dance a million times before.

Which is the reason he immediately knows what's happening when he wakes to the sound of your screams next to him.

He rushes to throw your shared quilt off and make sure you're okay, getting punched once or twice in the process.

After the nightmares pass and you calm down enough to speak, Genji is right there to comfort you.

"It's alright, my love, it is over now... Are you okay?" He questions as he holds one of your palms in his.

You shake your head no as you take several sharp breaths in and out.

"I was there again... in that-that godforsaken lab with fucking Moira prodding at me like cattle! It felt li-like it would never end! I can't go through that again!"

"And you don't have to. I don't know all of what happened to you, but I promise you will never have to face it on your own. I'm here to help you however I'm able to."

As the fearful adrenaline steadily leaves your veins, Genji brings your hand up to his chest so you could feel his heart beating just beneath his cybernetics.

"I love you and will sit here with you as long as you need me too."

With a sad, shaky laugh, you nod and you take your hand back in order to wrap yourself around him.

He does the same in turn as you embrace him ever so slightly tighter before he ushers for you to lay back down together so you can get some much needed sleep.

Pulling the blanket back over your bodies, he scooches in a little closer and begins to hum softly in the hopes of lulling you into a nightmare-less slumber.

Watching as your eyes begin to flutter closed again, he hears you mumble something just before you doze off.

"Thank you, Genji... I love you too."

Hanzo:

Hanzo already has trouble sleeping himself, so when your nightmares come around, he's already wide awake.

As you toss and turn underneath your blanket, he tries to calm you down by running his hand over you head, not caring if he gets hurt by your unintentionaly violent movements.

Once the night-terror ends, you start holding your face in your hands and rock back and forth as Hanzo rubs assuaging circles on your back.

"My dear, what can I do? How do I make the fear stop for now?" The archer inquires as you continue to shake in place.

"I don't know, Han... every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the lights and the wires and the needles... It won't go away no matter how hard I try. I just want them to be gone." You state, anxiously starting to press at your temples.

With a noiseless sigh escaping from his lips, Hanzo moves closer to place an arm across your shoulder and rest his forehead against your head.

"I am sorry for not being there with you. If I were able to change history, I would have gone to great lengths to rescue you."

As you begin to cry at his admission, he places a delicate kiss atop your head.

"I would never ask you to do something that dangerous for me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you..." You sob out as you bury yourself into Hanzo's side.

Hanzo is quick to wrap his other arm around you, offering a comforting squeeze before ushering you into his lap.

"You wouldn't ever have to ask for my help. I would trade my life for yours if it meant that no more harm would come to you."

Ramattra:

It's uncommon for Omnics to dream- let alone have nightmares- so the first one you have around Ramattra? It comes as a bit of a shock to him.

When he hears you yell, he all but rockets out of his reboot cycle to scan the room for any hidden threats to your safety.

After seeing nobody there but the two of you, he glances down to see you- fast asleep but clawing at the air like a trapped animal scratching at a predator.

He then decides to do a scan of your vitals, just to make sure you aren't in any immediate medical distress. The scan reveals to him that your heartrate and breathing are through the roof.

Just as he's about to cross the room to try and wake you up, you shoot up from your fitful rest with a loud inhale as you slam your hands down onto the mattress below.

Swiftly joining your side on the bed, he cautiously turns your visage towards him as he goes to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

While your eyes try to adjust to the low light of your room, you call out Ramattra's name, receiving a modulated but relaxing shush from his vocalizer.

"Calm yourself, pet, I'm right here. Now, tell me what has happened."

As you take a moment or two to collect yourself and come down from your frenzy, you gaze up to meet the faint glow of his faceplate emitting from his eyes.

"It's Talon; they... tormented me... a long time ago. Had me chained down as a doctor injected chemicals into me before he began flushing them out and started the whole process over again..."

Watching as you barely manage to hold back tears, His joints all seem to freeze in place as fury begins to creep in and take over all his systems.

"They need to suffer for their misdeeds. Who are they?..." He presses, his voice now hauntingly deeper than before .

"I don't know their names, and even if I did, I would do everything in my power to forget them."

An uneasy silence fills the space between you two, staying there for a minute before the large Omnic grunts and lifts you into his arms.

"I am sorry for what you had to go through. Just know that if any pain ever comes your way again, the offenders shall be personally dealt with." Ramattra claims as he rests his faceplate against your jaw.

Relishing in the cool feeling of his metal features against your warm skin, you nod appreciatively before he begins to lightly sway you to and fro.

Watching as you drift back to sleep, Ramattra makes a mental note to hunt down the Talon members who hurt you the next time he meets his allies. He wouldn't and will not stand for the mistreatment of the only human he has ever cared about.

[teddybeartoji]

彡 A MASSIVE PILE OF GUILT

☆. contains: tooru oikawa x gn!reader; this is called angst i think (with comfort), reader plays volleyball and oikawa comforts them after they lost a match, reader talks badly about themselves:( i'm sorry, they swear they're just really really good friends but they're also just fucking stupid wc: 4k

in the blink of an eye the loud screams and cheers transform into a disgusting mix of muffled noises in your ears. the lights are too bright and you feel like you're stuck to the ground; stuck under hundreds pairs of eyes. you can't move, you can't breathe. your arm stings, a painfully clear reminder of your fuckup.

you should've had it, you saw it coming, you had a plan and yet - here you are, watching the colorfol ball hit the wall of the big arena with a quiet thud!. your eye twitches, locked onto the missed oppurtunity in a form a sphere sit metres away from you and your teammates.

because of you.

like a statue; turned into stone, you stand in your awkward position, unable to comprehend that it's over. that it's really over. it feels like everybody is looking at you, cursing you in their own heads. is this what drowning feels like? even if you could open your mouth to try and save yourself with a big breath of air, the stifling stench of losing would surely just make you choke harder.

a palm slaps onto your shoulder and you don't have to look at the person to know who it is – a dejected captain trying to pick up their loved teammates. you can't look at them; how could you? they're trying to cheer you up while you're the sole reason you lost in the first place. they give you a squeeze, a silent plea for you to snap out of it and you comply, not wanting to humiliate them any more.

you did well!

an arm around your shoulder, you're being dragged away from the court and you taste blood – the result of biting into the soft skin of your inner cheek in order to surpress a cry. the lights are too bright and you just want out.

after the handshakes and the formalities are done, your coach gives you all a pep talk. not that it helps but what else is there to say right now. you eat in almost complete silence; the only sounds in your ears being the chewing and the crying.

you've yet to do that. your lip wobbles and your eyes are red but so far, no tears. but you know you will – it'll be the only thing you'll be doing after you've locked yourself away into your room.

good game!

you feel sick. the food in your mouth is starting to taste like vomit and the water isn't helping either. still, you refuse to stop. refuse to raise your eyes from your table to ask whether you can leave. you will sit there as long as the others do and you won't complain. you will eat the food just like the others do and you won't complain. you don't get to do that.

the hugs feel just as suffocating as the eyes. you've never felt this bad in your whole entire life. you feel bad for thinking that the hugs feel suffocating – they're literally trying to comfort you and you're blatantly refusing it. stupid. stupid. stupid.

everyone has their own things they do after a loss. some like to be alone, some like to go for a run, some like to beat the fuck out of a punch bag and some like to do watch a comedy film with their teammates. it's silly; none of them laugh during it anyway. but it helps. you know it does because you've done it with them – not this time though. and they don't pressure you; they're not stupid, they understand how it feels. you need a moment and they will give it to you.

your captain does sit you down for a second before letting you go though, calmly telling you how it wasn't your fault and how you'll get it next time. and it sucks. it sucks that you don't hear it... it sucks that nothing will make this feeling go away. you know it and your captain knows it.

their warm hand resting on your back does soothe the shivers that have been tormenting you ever since you lost the ball. and for the first time since that moment, you crane your neck, raising your heavy head to meet their eyes and now you do feel like crying. the sadness is there, but so is the same warmth, the same adoration one has for their loved ones. nobody is upset with you, nobody blames you. their hand rises from your back and goes up to ruffle your hair as you let your head fall against their chest. "you're okay."

they hold you close as your tears soak their shirt. you hear a loud sigh and you know they're holding back theirs. the shivers are back and you hiccup out a broken i'm sorry, which makes the captain pull away immediately and grab your shoulders.

"don't. it wasn't your fault. it wasn't. you can cry as much as you want but that? you're not allowed to do that." there's a certain determination in their glassy eyes and you have no other choice but to weakly nod your head before letting it fall again.

"by the way, i saw you not eat properly, so i'm keeping an extra eye on you tomorrow morning, okay?" they poke your cheek and you're thankful. "i'm gonna watch the movie with the others but i'm keeping my phone close by, so if you want company at any time, just let me know."

you raise your head back up, desperate to show your appreciation for them and nod again, cracking the world's smallest and saddest smile and they ruffle your hair again before standing up. "you're okay."

they close the door behind them and you take a minute to compose yourself. you can't seem to stop your hands from shaking though and it makes you angry. your now empty room is too quiet and your own reflection in the window is taunting you with an ugly expression. is that really how you look like right now?

you don't wanna know and you don't want to keep looking at it either. so you grab your hoodie and your wallet and make your way to the lobby of the hotel. maybe the reflection in the vending machine won't be so mean.

and it isn't. it's not mean at all. it's the exact opposite actually. from the fact that it's staring at you with rather soft eyes to the fact that it's not your own reflection.

"good game, right?" you scare yourself with your own voice – already so harsh and raspy. it comes out mean and you wince. you tear your eyes from his, focusing on the sweet drink that's locked behind the glass instead.

oikawa is never this quiet and it makes you want to hit him. make a joke. just do it. just do it already. but he doesn't. his steps are quiet as he goes to lean on the vending machine. he's nothing if not observant; he sees your shaky hands pressing the buttons with so much effort; how the lips that are usually pulled into a beautiful grin he loves so much are now wobbling, ready to spill all of your sorrows. your clenched jaw as you try to avoid his gaze for whatever reason.

please, look at me.

the vending machine dings as the mechanics push your drink to you. his eyes are unforgiving and you know he means well. you know he's not gonna make fun of you, he's not gonna tease you – not now. but you still feel ashamed, whether he says the joke or not; the joke has already been made and it's right here, standing in front of a stupid pink vending machine.

your head shakes on it's own, casting shame on yourself on it's own. the drink falls with a loud thud! but before you can kneel down to get it, a hand on your wrist stops you.

his hand is so warm and it's unusual, considering he tends to be cold almost always. he doesn't push you and let's you take a deep breath before you raise your eyes to his.

if his heart wasn't shattered before, it sure is now. your eyes are red and glassy, but mostly tired, so tired. there's no glint in them, dull and sad. his hand slips from your wrist to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. "you did well."

your head falls back as you choke out a broken laugh. "oh, fuck off. i don't wanna fucking hear that. it makes me sick." staring at the ceiling, you shake your head again as if to rid of the words from your mind.

oikawa feels useless. he's been in your situation and yet, he can't think of anything good to say. he remembers how much he hated whenever people said that to him after their loss to karosuno. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat; everything he comes up with just makes him feel even more sick. he wants to cry because he doesn't know how to comfort you. how to make it all better.

"do you want me to stay with you?"

that's the best he can come up with. maybe just his presence will be enough when his words clearly aren't. but when you shake your head again, his heart sinks.

"that's alright. let's uh– ... tomorrow, yeah?" bringing your eyes down from the ceiling, you try to give him a reassuring smile that says i'm fine but it obviously doesn't work. you see the hurt in his eyes and you just feel bad. you feel bad for everything. you're upsetting people even off the court. you just can't help it can you?

"i'm good. i just need to be alone right now." you try again, squeezing his hand. his mouth opens but another voice cuts him off.

"oikawa!"

from around the corners emerges an angry looking iwaizumi. "here you fucking are. coach said it's bed time—"

when his eyes travel from his troublesome best friend over to yours, he swallows his words in an instant. you see the remorse wash over his face and you kind of want to laugh. it's all too funny in a fucked up way. "sorry for interrupting. hey, that was a really goo—"

good game!

he stops himself. fuck. what do you say in this situation?

"good game, i know. maybe next time it'll be a great one, hm?" the bitterness just oozes out of you without your consent, making iwaizumi wince. you feel bad.

pulling your hand from oikawa's, you kneel down to finally grab your nearly forgotten drink. "it's okay, really. i know what you mean."

another weak smile. a pathetic one. "see you at breakfast, yeah?"

oikawa shoving iwaizumi is the last thing you see as you're making your way back to your room. your hands still haven't stopped shaking and opening the door is so fucking hard. the key card slips from between your fingers—

breathe... in...

and out...

you kneel down and pick it up in slow motion as you're tunnel visioning on just getting inside the room. you hear the click! and you burst in, slamming the door shut. the ugly reflection is back and it's laughing at you and you can't do it anymore. your knees buckle from under you, hitting the soft carpeted floor as you weep. hunched over, you just look like a big pile of guilt.

clutching at your heart through your shirt, you cry and you cry, taking in raggedy breaths just to let out pathetic little sounds. everything hurts – your knees, your arms, your head, your eyes, your fingers, your legs, your inner cheek. you pretty much crawl to the bathroom, grabbing a handful of tissues before plopping right back down onto the floor. your nose hurts, too.

for almost an hour – you don't move from your spot, rooted and rotting into the carpet. it's pathetic. you think about how the others are watching the movie, shedding tears quietly but together, nonetheless. sick of your own actions, you push yourself up and change your clothes. you even manage to drink some water and wash your face in this half-alive state of being. a+ for effort, huh?

you bury yourself under the blanket, wishing the bed would swallow you whole instead. the tears have returned and you feel the pillow getting wetter and wetter by the second. you don't have it in you to grab another tissue though, letting the feeling of the soaked material remind you of your fuckup.

a floor and a few rooms away, oikawa can't stop pacing around. "but they said they didn't want me to go with them...."

"have you ever considered that people lie, idiot?" a tired iwaizumi replies from underneath his blanket on the bed. "especially in a situation like this. it's not like you were any better, you know."

oikawa just glares at him, although it's very hard for iwaizumi to take him seriously when he's wearing his matching plaid pj set. "but what if they get upset that i didn't listen to them?"

"but don't you wanna go and comfort them?" iwaizumi questions harshly. "don't you wanna be there for them? is your fear of overstepping more important than their well-being right now?"

oikawa thinks of your tired, sad eyes and his fingers twitch. "no."

"obviously, dick. go on, then. you have to be back for breakfast though or i'll punch you." iwaizumi states before turning away from his friend and disappearing completely under the blanket.

"you're so mean, iwa... can you not threathen to punch me every two seconds? i'm trying to be so good." oikawa mutters with a pout, grabbing his phone and his hoodie, ready to be your knight in shining armor. knight in plaid pyjamas more like.

"just go already." his friend grumbles and oikawa gifts him a small bye-bye as he's already halfway out the door. the next thing he knows, he's sprinting through the hallways, thanking himself in his head for making you tell him your room number the second he saw you this morning. he doesn't even take the elevator, instead taking triple steps up the stairs. he's also thanking himself for becoming an athlete.

knock! knock! knock!

dismissing that as just a noise from the room next door, you continue your sniffling but when the knocks repeat in a faster manner, you figure one of your teammates had forgotten their key card. so, ever so slowly you push yourself from the comfort of your bed and head over to the door while trying to wipe the tears from your eyes as to look at least a little bit more composed. you're even ready to crack a joke about them losing the card, desperate to disctract the person behind the door from yourself.

but it's not any of your teammates, nor is it your manager of your coach.

it's your oikawa instead – eyes wide open and slightly panting. "you said you don't want me here but i– fuck, how many steps can be between one floor..." he clutches his hand over his chest, the stupid comment slipping out all on its own.

for a millisecond, for a fraction of time, the corners of your lips turn upward but they fall just as fast back down, leaving you both just standing there, staring at each other.

your eyes look way worse now; way more red, way more tired, way more sad, way more dull than a mere hour ago. he should've come here sooner and he imagines iwaizumi slapping the back of his head for his mistake.

"you said you wanna be alone but i don't care."

his blunt statement catches you a little off-guard, your eyebrows furrowing but oikawa just takes it as a green light. if you didn't want him there, surely you'd tell him that right away but you've been standing here with him for a almost half a minute and nothing.

he takes a step, closing the distance between the two of you. he pushes his glasses up on his nose and fiddles with his own fingers and it's weird again. he's nervous. but this isn't about him – it's about you. whatever he's feeling right now is nothing compared to what you're feeling and he just wants to be here for you.

for a second time today, he watches your bottom lip wobble and your chest rise as you take short sharp breaths. and for a second time today, a pair of eyes feel actually comforting. he's not trying to burn you, he's not trying to take back time and alter your actions. he's merely observing instead of dissecting. he's ready to catch you when you fall.

and you do. it's hard not to when he's standing in front of you and looking at you so fondly. your head falls against his strong chest, hands tucked between your bodies as his firmly wrap around you. he takes another step inside and closes the door behind him with his foot.

he listens to you cry into him, he feels your tears on his shirt and through it, on his skin. your hands grasp onto the material, bunching it up in your fists and he just holds you tighter against him.

"you're gonna win next time, i promise" he murmurs.

but when you just sob out a but i wanted to win this time, his heart aches so bad he thinks he's going to die.

oikawa curses at himself for walking right into that one and this time he swears he feels iwaizumi slap the back of his head for real. but he has no time to pity his poor choice of words when he feels your hands clutching at him just where his heart is.

he whispers a quiet i know and you sniffle again. he starts drawing soothing circles onto your back with his palm and he feels so warm. releasing his shirt from your hold, you snake your hands around his body instead, burrowing your face even more into his chest and you faintly hear him coo. it's the first time ever that he's done it in a genuine way and it's the first time you haven't felt the need to punch him for it.

his hand rests on the back of your head, keeping you in your place as he gently sways the both of you from side to side. "i got you."

after some time, he feels you going slack against him and decides to guide you to the bed. he climbs in with you and safely tucks you into the crook of his neck and lets you cry some more as he whispers it's okay against your temple. he just hopes that he's actually helping, that his words actually have an effect. god, he hopes he's making it at least a bit better for you.

he is. he's doing more than he could ever imagine. the thick goo of guilt and shame seems to be draining out of you when you feel his lips brush against your skin. he just might be washing the it off of you with his quiet praise. his words don't sound condescending nor do they sound fake. he means it when he says that you really did do well.

the tears have dried by now and oikawa can feel your eyelashes fluttering against his neck. the long tiring day is finally catching up to you as your breathing slows. he rests his head on top of yours and presses your body indifinitely closer to his. the tips of his fingers dance across your skin, drawing little circles and hearts as he soaks in the sight of you relaxing against him under the moonlight.

"did..."

your meek voice makes him crane his neck back so he can look at you better, ready to hear out whatever complaint you have, ready to comply to whatever request you have.

"did iwaizumi send you?"

...

"WHAT?" it comes out way louder and in a way higher pitch than he'd intended it to. he immediately clears his throat but his eyebrows are still furrowed. "i wanted to come here, why would you say that..."

he still can't see your face clearly from this angle but the way your body moves, is telling him that this isn't you crying anymore. this is you laughing.

"are you– are you fucking laughing at me right now?" he questions, trying to pry you from his neck to confirm his suspicion. and he's fucking right. when you finally unlatch yourself from his body and roll onto your back, you have the tiniest, smallest smile on your lips and oikawa's mouth falls slack. "i wanted to come! i– i'm a good friend!"

it shouldn't be this funny. it really shouldn't because he is a good friend, isn't he? he's here now, holding you, comforting you; he came to you and you're now making fun of him. but you can't help it, the thought of iwaizumi "lecturing" him is silly in this moment. not that you doubt that he came here only because of that, of course. but knowing him, you just think he probably needed a push to actually do it.

oikawa holds himself up above you, observing the small freckles that adorn your face. your eyes are still red and still tired but... the small little glint is back. the same one that's always there when you make fun of him. or when you laugh.

"i literally ran here and this is how you treat me?"

"you're telling me it took you an hour to run up the stairs? i thought you were a volleyball player, shouldn't your stamina be better–" you poke at his chest (right where his heart is) and he lets out a very loud and a very dramatic gasp. "or did your boyfriend have to convince you to come over and console me?"

oikawa's lips tilt into a smirk, happy to hear you barking at him at last. "first of all, don't ever call him my boyfriend ever again–" he situates himself next to you, so his both hands are free. you should've seen this coming, too. "and second of all, you really oughta treat me better."

before you can taunt him with a good old "or what?", his hands are tickling your sides, fingers dancing along your skin as laughter bubbles up from your throat. you try to fight him off, hands clutching onto his in order to stop his torment but to no avail.

"i am... trying... to be.... a good... friend... and this is... what i get... huh..." he rasps as he continues soaking in the sound of your laughter.

"you're.... always... in it for something... that's not... a... real friend... tooru..." you breathe back with a grin and he stops. he doesn't take his hands off of you though, just resting them on your waist.

"you're spending way too much time with iwaizumi, you're both just so mean to me." he's pouting. oikawa is sitting back on his legs and he's actually pouting.

"am i gonna have to console you now?"

"yes." he deadpans.

...

you push yourself up onto your elbow and lean up to boop his nose. "you're stupid."

"no, you're stupid." he grins back.

he has his ways of getting you out of a slump, he always has. him sitting here on your tiny little bed, pouting and laughing is only merely of them. you couldn't wish for a better friend. his hands feel so warm on you and you're so grateful. sitting up, you slap your hands on his shoulders (which of course, makes him wince in a very over the top way). "thanks for coming, tooru."

he rolls his eyes. "pffft."

...

pfft?

"excuse me?" you glare at him and he decides that you and iwaizumi can never hang out ever again.

"i– i meant– yeah, of course. anything for you." he stutters out as you keep glaring at him. he then leans in closer, so much so that your noses are almost touching. "i'm really proud of you, you know."

heat crawls up from your neck and you feel the tips of your ears warm up, overwhelmed by the sudden genuine praise. but you can't let him have the upper hand. not now, not ever. he'll never let you live it down.

"your breath stinks, you know."

his eyes close with another incredibly dramatic sigh as he rests his forehead against yours but while doing so, he takes notice of your hot skin and the way you giggle, and translates it into your language –

thank you.

[starlitmelanin]

ᡣ𐭩ྀི escapism; a.tchouaméni

pairing - aurélien x fem!reader

word count - 3k

warnings - mentions of alcohol/heavy drinking. implications of sex, nothing explicit.

summary - when your relationship ends abruptly, you don't have time to process the heartbreak. instead, you put on your little black dress, go out on the town, and find yourself a distraction.

it was supposed to be just another night, another argument that would blow over like all the rest. but when he sat you down, his expression more serious than you'd ever seen, you felt something shift in the air, something cold and final.

"we need to talk."

those words, so simple and so devastating, hung between you like a glass waiting to drop. you knew what was coming, could see it in the way he couldn't quite meet your eyes, in the way he sighed like he was about to do something he'd regret.

"i can’t do this anymore, y/n," he said, his voice heavy with regret but firm, like he'd made up his mind and there was no going back. "we're over."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you, leaving you reeling. for a moment, you just sat there, staring at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, that would make it all make sense. but he didn't. he just sat there, looking at you like he was waiting for you to understand, to agree, to make it easy for him.

but there was nothing easy about this. your heart felt like it was being torn apart, ripped to shreds, and you wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to stay, to fight for what you had. but you didn't. you couldn't. because even as the pain surged through you, a numbness settled in, a protective layer that kept you from breaking down right there in front of him.

"okay," you said, the word hollow, emotionless, like it wasn't even you saying it. you stood up, walked away, and didn't look back.

you didn't cry. not then, not after. you wouldn't let yourself. instead, you did the only thing you could think of to keep from feeling the pain—you numbed it. the bottle became your closest companion, its contents a temporary bandaid for the wound that still felt too fresh, too raw.

that's how you found yourself out on the town, dressed in a little black dress that hugged your curves just right, your makeup flawless, your hair done up perfectly. you looked good, and you knew it, but it wasn't about feeling good. it was about not feeling at all. you wanted to drown out the thoughts, the memories, the pain. you wanted to lose yourself in the music, in the crowd, in the taste of alcohol on your tongue.

the club was packed, bodies moving together in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, the bass vibrating through the floor, through your body, until it was the only thing you could feel. the lights were low, flashing colours that blurred your vision, making everything feel surreal, like you were in a dream. or a nightmare. you couldn't tell the difference.

you made your way to the bar, ordered another drink—something strong, something that burned on the way down—and then another. you didn't want to think, didn't want to feel. you just wanted to forget.

"you good?" the bartender asked, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind.

you looked at him, tried to focus on his face, but it was hard. everything was hard. "i'm fine," you said, waving him off. "just keep them coming."

he hesitated, but you weren't in the mood for pity or concern. you were here for one reason and one reason only—to drown out everything else.

that's when you saw him.

he was standing at the other end of the bar, leaning casually against it like he had all the time in the world. tall, dark, and handsome, with a smile that was almost too perfect, too charming. he had that kind of presence that made people turn and look, but he didn't seem to care. he was just... there. and for some reason, you couldn't stop staring.

he must have felt your gaze because he looked up, his eyes meeting yours across the bar. and then he smiled, a slow, lazy smile that made something in your chest tighten, made your breath catch. he was gorgeous, and you could tell he knew it, but there was something else, something in his eyes that made you want to look away and look closer all at once.

you weren't looking for anything serious. hell, you weren't looking for anything at all. but as he walked over to you, his steps confident, purposeful, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what you needed. a distraction. something, or someone, to take your mind off everything else.

"you look like you could use some company," he said, his voice smooth, warm, with just the right amount of flirtation.

"and you look like trouble," you shot back, the alcohol giving you a boldness you didn't usually have.

he laughed, the sound rich and deep. "maybe," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time all night, you felt something other than pain, other than the numbness you'd been clinging to. you felt... intrigued. curious. and maybe a little reckless.

"i'm aurélien," he said, holding out his hand.

you took it, felt the warmth of his skin, the strength of his grip, and something in you shifted. "y/n."

he smiled, and it was the kind of smile that promised things you weren't sure you were ready for, but tonight, you didn't care. tonight, you weren't looking for promises or commitments. you were looking for an escape, and this aurélien guy seemed more than willing to provide it.

"so, y/n," he said, leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping to a murmur that was somehow more intimate than the loud music surrounding you, "what brings you out tonight?"

you hesitated, the truth too raw, too painful to share with a stranger, but the alcohol was already loosening your tongue, making you more honest than you would've liked. "my boyfriend dumped me," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "last night."

his eyes softened, the playful light dimming just a little. "i'm sorry," he said, and it sounded genuine, not just something people say because they feel they should.

"don't be," you replied, taking another sip of your drink. "i'm not here to feel sorry for myself."

"what are you here for?" he asked, his eyes searching yours, curious.

you met his gaze, held it, and felt a spark of something you hadn't felt in a long time. desire. it was small, barely a flicker, but it was there, and you wanted to fan it, to let it grow, to let it burn away everything else.

"i'm here to forget," you said, your voice low, steady, and you could see the understanding in his eyes, the way his gaze darkened just a little, like he knew exactly what you meant.

"i think i can help with that," he said, his voice matching yours in intensity.

you didn't need to ask what he meant. you knew. and you were okay with it. more than okay. you wanted it.

"good," you said, setting your glass down on the bar, the clink of it louder than it should have been in the noise of the club. "because that's exactly what i need right now."

he didn't waste any time. his hand found yours, warm and strong, and he led you through the crowd, out of the club, and into the cool night air. the city was alive around you, the lights bright, the sounds of laughter and music and car horns filling the space, but it all felt distant, like you were in a bubble, just the two of you, moving through the night.

you didn't ask where he was taking you. you didn't care. you trusted him in that moment, trusted that he would give you what you needed, even if it was just for the night. because that's all it was. all it would ever be.

he hailed his driver, and you slid in beside him, the tension between you thick, electric. his hand brushed your thigh, a casual touch that sent a jolt of heat through you, and you leaned into it, into him, craving more, needing more.

the ride to his place was a blur, the streets flashing by in a haze of lights and shadows. your heart was racing, your mind spinning, but not with thoughts of your ex, not with pain or regret or anything other than the anticipation of what was to come.

when the car pulled up to his building, he muttered something to his driver in a language you barely understood and then led you inside, his hand never leaving yours. the elevator ride was silent, the air thick with unspoken words, unspoken desires. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body seemed to vibrate with the same tension that was building in you, and it was almost too much, almost overwhelming, but you wanted it, in a way that was almost desperate.

his apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the faint buzz of the city outside the windows. the space was sleek, modern, with clean lines and minimalist decor—everything in its place, not a single thing out of order. it felt like him, you thought, as you took it all in. controlled, confident, but there was a warmth to it too, something inviting that you hadn't expected.

aurélien watched you from the doorway, his eyes tracing your every movement as you wandered into the living room, your heels clicking softly against the hardwood floors. the silence between you was charged, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way it followed you like a magnet. there was something intoxicating about it, about him, and you found yourself drawn to it, to him, in a way that felt almost inevitable.

"nice place," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned to face him.

he didn’t respond right away, just stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that was slow, deliberate. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i'm glad you like it," he said, but his eyes were on you, not the apartment, like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

there was a tension in the air, thick and heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of tension that built, that coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped, until it became something else entirely. and you could feel it, feel that shift coming, feel it in the way your breath caught in your throat, in the way your pulse quickened as he moved closer.

"you don’t have to do this," aurélien said softly, his eyes searching yours, and there was a gentleness in his tone that surprised you, that made your heart ache in a way you hadn't expected. "we can just... talk, if you want."

talking wasn’t what you wanted. not tonight. not after everything that had happened, everything you were trying to forget. you didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. you just wanted to lose yourself, to drown out the pain in something else, in someone else.

"i don’t want to talk," you said, your voice firmer than you felt, and you took a step closer, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. "i want..."

but the words died on your lips, and you didn’t know how to finish the sentence, didn’t know how to tell him that you needed him, that you needed this, more than you’d ever needed anything else.

"what do you want, y/n?" aurélien asked, and the way he said your name, so soft, so intimate, almost sent you spiralling.

you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and there was something in his gaze that made you feel like he already knew, like he understood exactly what you were feeling, even if you couldn’t put it into words. and maybe he did, because when you didn’t respond, he closed the gap between you, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

"i got you," he whispered, and there was a promise in those words, a reassurance that made you want to believe him, that made you want to let go of everything else and just be there, in that moment, with him.

you leaned into his touch, your eyes closing as you let yourself feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, let yourself sink into the comfort of it. it was different from what you were used to—different from the way things were with your ex—but that was exactly what you needed. something different. something that didn’t remind you of the pain, the heartbreak. something that made you feel alive again.

and then his lips were on yours, soft and cautious at first, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, to stop this before it went any further. but you didn’t want to stop. you couldn’t. because the moment his lips touched yours, everything else faded away—the hurt, the betrayal, the thoughts of what you’d lost—and all that was left was him. aurélien. and the way he was making you feel.

you kissed him back, your hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it was all-consuming, until it was the only thing you could think about, the only thing you could feel. his hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the heat of his body, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, holding you close.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands roamed your body, exploring, discovering. it was intense, but it was exactly what you needed. you needed to feel wanted, needed, like you mattered, even if it was just for tonight.

"aurélien," you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless, filled with a need you couldn’t deny, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough, and you could see the restraint in his eyes, the way he was holding himself back, waiting for your permission, your consent.

"yeah," you breathed, and that was all it took.

he scooped you up into his arms, his strength catching you off guard, but you didn’t have time to react before he was carrying you down the hallway, his steps quick, purposeful, like he couldn’t wait any longer. and neither could you.

his bedroom was just as sleek and modern as the rest of the apartment, but you barely noticed, too focused on him, on the way he laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes searching your face like he was looking for something, some sign that this was okay, that this was what you wanted.

and it was. more than anything.

you reached up to pull him down to you, your lips finding his again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. it was all heat and passion and desperation, and you lost yourself in it, in him.

the rest of the night was a blur of touches, of kisses, of whispered words and shared breaths. it was intense, raw, and exactly what you needed. aurélien was everything you could have asked for in a distraction—attentive, gentle, but with a fire that matched your own, that made you forget everything else.

for a few blissful hours, there was no pain, no reeling. there was only aurélien, and the way he was making you feel, the way he was making you forget.

but when it was over, when the night had given way to the early hours of the morning, and you were lying there beside him, his arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against your skin, reality started to creep back in. the numbness you’d been clinging to began to fade, and the ache in your chest returned, more dreadful than before.

you carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him, and quietly gathered your clothes, slipping them back on with practiced ease. you couldn’t stay. you couldn’t risk the morning-after awkwardness, the questions, the regrets. this was supposed to be a one-time thing, a way to forget, not something that lingered.

as you headed for the door, you glanced back at him, at the way he looked so peaceful, so content in his sleep. for a moment, you were tempted to stay, to curl back up beside him, to let yourself pretend that this could be something more. but you knew better. you knew that staying would only make things more complicated, more painful.

so you left, slipping out of his apartment and into the cool morning air. the city was starting to wake up, the streets slowly coming to life, but you felt like you were in a daze, like everything was happening in slow motion.

you didn’t look back as you walked away, your heels clicking against the pavement, the sound echoing in the quiet streets. you told yourself that this was what you needed, that aurélien was the perfect distraction, that you’d be fine now.

but deep down, you knew that the ache in your chest wasn’t going away. that the numbness you’d been relying on was only temporary, that eventually, you’d have to face reality.

but not yet. not now.

for now, you’d keep moving forward, keep putting one foot in front of the other, keep pretending that you’re okay.

because that’s all you could do. keep pretending. keep moving.

until the pain faded.

until you could breathe again.

until you were ready to feel again.

[whump-in-the-closet]

"Don't You Remember?"

whumper-turned-whumpee who can't remember what they did to whumpee and a whumpee-turned-whumper who wants revenge so very badly

cw: implied torture, blood, scars, fist fight, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, implied torture of a minor

In the abandoned alley, Whumper stood over Whumpee, blood on their boots and blood on Whumpee's clothes.

Whumpee gasped for air, back arching against the stone wall. They whimpered. “Why– why are you doing this?” There was terror in their eyes, deer-in-headlights-bright.

And all it did was piss Whumper off. They were no longer the scrawny kid that Whumpee had once bloodied and scarred, but their temper still had the same short leash. And this time, there was no one to stop them.  

“Why?” repeated Whumpee, their voice shaking. Blood dribbled down their chin. “Do I know you?” 

Whumper laughed. Bitterly. In the bronze-lit alleyway, it tasted like dirt and metal, bouncing off the walls before dying out. "You have got to be kidding me."

Whumpee's breathing rattled in their throat, eyes locked on Whumper with their bruised fists and dangerous smile. "I--"

Whumper cut them off. “You think this hurts, Whumpee?"

Whumpee coughed up more blood, clutching their ribcage. They nodded, Adam's apple bobbing in their throat.

“Just imagine it goes on for days. Imagine it doesn’t stop. Imagine you’re in so much pain, you can barely breathe, but it doesn’t fucking stop. But you know what hurts the most, Whumpee?” Another laugh, angry and half spat out. “That you don’t even remember what you did to me. Fuck, you don’t even have the-- the decency to acknowledge you’re the reason they all pity me. Fuck. It makes me want to beat you to death right here and right now.” Whumper ripped off their jacket, letting it drop to the gravel.

 “I mean, fucking look,” Whumper smiled harshly, more of a grimace than a grin.

Whumpee's gaze darted up and then immediately away. Whumper's arms were badly scarred-- raw-rimmed and poorly healed-- but the lines were steady, in methodical knife-blade form.

“Hold still, or I’ll have you lick the blood off my knife. That would be a new low for you, wouldn’t it?” 

Whumper shook aside the memories that burned their way into their mind, the ones that played behind their eyes whenever they tried to sleep. 

Oh, god, when was the last time they had slept?  The anger in their voice was venomous and they re-directed it at Whumpee. “You really don’t remember?” 

No answer. 

Whumpee kicked Whumpee. Hard. “C’mon, Whumpee, I know you’re in there.”

Whumpee only shook their head. They didn’t dare to look up, keeping their arms wrapped around their abdomen for protection. 

The street light bounced off the pooling blood, Whumpee's broken nose, highlighting the deep purple color under Whumper's eyes.

“I was just a kid!" snarled Whumper, "Tell me what I did to deserve this! Fucking tell me!" They didn't want closure. They wanted a fight. 

Instead, Whumpee was wiping at their bloody nose and crying. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  

Whumper bit back a scream. “Fight me!” 

Whumpee stood shakily, clinging to the wall. “I told you, I…I don’t remember…” their voice cracked. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

Whumper grabbed Whumpee's jacket and hauled them close until their faces were inches apart.

Eye to bruised eye.

Breath shaking.

The smell of copper and leather.

Once, Whumper had cried those very same words.

“Please– please don’t hurt me.”

The knife began its slow work and they began to scream–

One final punch. Whumpee's head cracked against the wall and they slumped limply against the sidewalk. 

There was no closure. 

Just bruised fists and blood on the gravel. Whumper left Whumpee in the alleyway, licking blood off their knuckles. 

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (11)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Assault, Sexual Assault, blood (This chapter is a bit heavier than the past ones. It's probably going to be the only that has graphic scenes such as this one.)

It was that time again in the night when everyone was going home to rest. Yeosang had walked up behind you at the front desk, placing his hand on your waist. You took a glance at his arm, feeling heat seep into your skin from over your dress. Ever since the day you spent with them

“I'll see you two in the morning.” Yeosang told both you and Seonghwa. The older man had the night shift that day so he would be staying. “Goodnight, Honey.” His thumb rubbed against your clothing, a small smile playing on the man’s face. 

“Goodnight, Yeosang.” You told him. “Be careful.”

You were left to count some of the money while Seonghwa read over the guest lists and wrote down who paid their room days. After you finished with what you needed to, you moved around the counter to get on with the last of your things. 

“I'm on trash duty.” You hummed. Seonghwa continued on with his tasks, rubbing a hand on your hip as you both passed each other. With a sigh, you picked up the large bags and begun your trek out to the trash cans. 

While most would have their own trash cans, as a business you had to share with others. And yours was stationed on the other side of the hotel between another building. It took a good 5 minutes in total to reach the alleyway and head back inside. 

Just as you closed the lid to the large trash bin, you heard squeaks and a panicked voice. Walking out of the alley, you glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. The sun had begun to set earlier than usual so most people were already hiding inside their homes. The crying began to get louder which prompted you to investigate. Walking across the street, you found yourself in the alley across from the hotel. 

Your eyes went wide and air was sucked out of your lungs when you saw three men roughly grabbing a woman. You didn’t stop to think about what to do, you did the first thing that came to mind. That was to shout.

“Hey!” You screamed. “Let go of her!” 

You rushed into the scene, blinded by rage to realize you had quickly formed your hand into a fist and slammed it into one of the men’s cheek. Your rings had helped to aid you in your bout seeing as they caused scratches along the man’s face. Blood began to pool on his skin as he sucked on his teeth. 

The men had paused in their actions of gripping the woman, turning to you. The one you had injured moved a finger to touch his wound, scoffing at the pool that stained his fingers. The other two men had dropped the woman they were holding onto which moved you into action to hold onto her. 

“Run.” You told her, getting your brain to move into flight mode after the adrenaline wore off. You pushed her in front of you, feet scoffing the floor. Just as she took off, someone gripped onto your hair causing you to let out a yelp. “Get away!” You shouted when you saw the girl turn around to look at you. 

You immediately fell to the ground in protest, becoming dead weight for them. You clawed at the hand that was twisting your hair, kicking your legs. “Grab her.” Your eyes shut tight at his words, kicking you feet more as the other two men moved to get your legs. 

You screamed and raised your legs, hitting one man in the nose with the heel of your boot. You hooked your ankle around one of the man’s pulling it towards you to trip him up. They growled at you in frustration, getting angry before pinning you to the floor instead of picking you up. 

“Shit. You just lost us our good time.” The one you punched sneered, coming around to kneel over you. “Now you gotta pay us back.”

Your eyes opened wide when the man pulled out a pocket knife, pressing it into your cheek. You began to breathe hard, panic seizing in your chest. A whimper fell from your lips as the man moved the knife down.  

“Seong-Seonghwa!” You cried meekly, hoping that maybe the man had walked out to find you. You were a good way from the front of the hotel and the way you called out wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear. 

You could remember the entire of your life in that moment. Tears welled in your eyes as the regrets of things you did and didn’t do came to mind. You had thought you were happy before but looking back on it there was so much you were missing out on. You didn’t get the chance to see more than just Cromer. You didn’t get to learn more lessons that would help you to grow as a person. You didn’t want to give up on those things just yet though. 

“No one's here to save you. Should've minded your business.” The man on top of you laughed. You scrunched up your nose, spitting in the man’s face as the thought of your life ending made you angry. 

“You feisty bitch.” A scream bubbled from your throat as the man nicked at the skin under your jaw. “Not so tough now are you. Look at her, there are tears in her eyes.” He laughed. 

Just as the man’s hands began to touch your leg a gunshot rang out through the area causing you to scream when the man holding your right arm fell over and blood splattered on your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, flinching when another shot rang out and more liquid touched you. You felt the weight of the man on top of you lift off. You didn’t dare to move curling up into a fetal position as your body began to tremble. 

“If you know what's good for you, you'll drop the knife.” Someone rasped out from the entrance of the alley.

Your heart clenched seeing the leather coat that was billowing out with the wind. The hat that covered his pink hair made him look more menacing as the metal on his boots clicked with each step. 

“It's you.” The thug said, sounding scared for his life. “Listen, we can talk this out. No need to get hostile.” He tried to reason. 

“I already killed two of you. What's one more?” You opened your eyes, moving slowly to turn and look at who had come to save you. 

“If you want the girl, you can have-” Mingi didn’t let him finish as he pulled the trigger. You scooted back as the man’s body fell to the side, gasping as your fingers touched the blood that was pooling around you. 

“She's not yours to trade.” Mingi sneered down at the dead man. 

“Mingi.” You whispered, looking up at the man. 

“Doll.” His face softened when he took in your state, quickly leaning down to carefully touch you. 

“Mingi.” You cried, quickly getting to your knees and throwing yourself onto him. 

He used a hand to stabilize himself as you buried your head into his chest, trying to get swallowed up to get rid of the anxiousness. He could both hear and feel your sobs that wracked through your body. Your skin felt cold to the touch as blood tried returning to the normal temperature. 

You suddenly began to shake more, hyperventilating. Mingi wrapped his arms around you tighter, keeping you from moving too much. “Hey, hey.” He soothed, lips ghosting over your ear.  “You're okay. I got you.”

He started to rock you back and forth, pulling you into his lap. There was a scraping sound coming from the alleyway entrance as someone rushed over, coming to a quick stop. “Mingi!” Seonghwa called, rushing towards the two of you. 

He paused as he came up to the dead bodies, sucking in a breath as he noticed the state you were in. As he tried to get past his anger, he tried to pull Mingi up to a stand. You clutched tighter to the man’s clothing, so he picked you up in his arms. 

“Take her to the hotel. Now.” Seonghwa spoke in a rush, hastily pushing you two out the alley. The man took a moment to look around the street before making a run for the hotel lobby. Checking once more to make sure no one was waiting there, he pushed Mingi towards the back room meant for the night shift worker.  

“Put her in bed.” He explained to the outlaw. “I'll go get Yunho and Jongho.”

As Mingi moved to set you down, you only wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tighter to you. The man sighed with worry, moving around to sit on the bed with you in his lap again. He could feel the blood that was on your finger stick to his skin but he was worried about that when he saw the wound on your neck. 

Anger coursed through his chest as he dropped his head back to calm his racing heart. He moved his thumb up to brush against it, your blood being wiped away. “Doll, I have to treat your wound.” He whispered to you. 

“I can't-can't move.” Your body shook with each word you let out. It was when you stopped speaking that you seemed to tighten up your body to become stiff. Mingi tried to move you around so he could get back up but you only made your body stiff, tightening your fingers around him. 

“Don't leave!” You cried.

“I'm not.” Mingi sighed deeply, lightly brushing his lips against your cheek to calm you down. 

“Is she hurt?” Jongho burst through the door, closely followed by Yunho and Seonghwa. 

“She has a cut on her neck.” Mingi explained. “She won't let me treat it.”

“I'll do it.” Seonghwa moved around the room, going to the medicine cabinet to get what he needed. Jongho had kneeled in front of Mingi, hand brushing over your hair to sooth you some. He cooed at you, lulling you into a numb sleeping state. Yunho walked closer, taking up the space next to his partner. 

“Go check out the bodies before someone else notices.” Soenghwa told the two officers. Jongho looked at his friends reluctantly, but Yunho softly calling out to him had him moving out the room. Seonghwa had bent down to look over your wound.   

“Pretty girl.” He spoke softly. “I need you to move your head.” He rubbed his fingers along your scalp, messaging your head. You were trying to not fall asleep, but the boys made that hard with their way their affection was causing a buzz in your body. Your mind was already in a fragile state so the way they were treating you made you regress back into a space you had no idea you could enter.

You pulled your head to the side, craning your neck to allow Seonghwa room to work. “That's a good girl.” He tried to move quickly around you, softly speaking when you would flinch from the stinging of the wound. When he finished, he stood up, throwing the trash away. 

“Pretty, you have to let Mingi go.” He told you so that you could go to bed already. Mingi looked up at Seonghwa when he felt your fingers clench the collar of his coat again. The older man sighed as he took in your state.

“Stay here for the night.” He told his friend. ”I'll call her family to tell them something came up and she took my night shift.”

You heard his footsteps walking out of the room, your eyes already shut as your body came to a numbing feeling. Your body felt heavy against Mingi, as if the world was pulling you deeper into the ground. The man gripped onto your waist, pulling you with him as he tried to get up from the bed. You tightened up on him again, shaking your head as tears pooled in your eyes once more.

“Hey-Hey.” Mingi soothed, laying down on the bed. “I'm not leaving.” He made himself comfortable, turning to his side with you. You shuffled closer to him, tucking your head under his chin as you pulled the long coat of his around your body. He felt the hiccups of your anxiety attack, his hands pulling you closer. 

“I'm still here.” He whispered, kissing your head. 

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @bangtanxberm , @loveforred , @a1i33a

[liaarxse]

Ow!...oops

Headcanons

How would TR boys react to you hitting them after they scare you

Characters: Souya (Angry) Kawata, Nahoya (Smiley) Kawata, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano, Ryuguji (Draken) Ken

Warnings: Jumpscare you won't see, fluff, humor(?)

A/n: I accidentally scared myself and came up with this. Please give me ideas I don't have any🙏🙏

Souya Kawata

Baby boy

Literally didn't mean to scare you

Scared himself

He was just running to leave school since Toman had an urgent meeting, and you just HAD to walk the same corridor at the same time.

Screamed when he took a turn on the staircase and saw you

You screamed when he screamed

And punched him.

😟....

Say sorry rn.

I mean it.

Literally was about to cry.

"Why are you crying????"

"I'M SOWWY�� (y'all remember that manga panel LMAO) I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YO–"

"SOUYA CALM DOWN"

If his brother finds out

Lol

R.i.p

You will be missed

Just give him kisses, and he'll be fine

Also give him bonus cuddles

Just because he's Souya <3

Nahoya Kawata

Not baby boy

Mf did that on purpose

Made you watch a horror film

At his house

Late at night

With a storm happening

🤡

Asshole? Asshole.

Watched the movie 3 times to remember when the jumpscares happen

Probably pissed himself 5 times whilst doing so

When one was about to happen, he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Bathroom my ass

After like a minute of being gone, he quietly creeped behind the couch so he could scare you EXACTLY when the jumpscare occurred

Managed to do it

You got so scared when he grabbed your shoulders that with all your strength, you grabbed him by the arms and flipped him over your head on the ground in front of you

Near broke the damn coffee table

He was like "😃....😧"

His smile dropped

"Y/n what the fuck."

WDYMMM

Then he got up and sat on the couch next to you

"...."

"...."

He started laughing

Kick him in the balls pls

Manjiro Sano

Now this

This is bullshit

Didn't even feel bad about it

Y'all we're just laying in his bed

Minding your own damn business

When he decided

"Your business? Nah, mine."

He screamed

Yep

Out of nowhere, he let out the most blood curling, teeth gritting, toe gripping scream you heard

You screamed too

Y'all were probably screaming for a solid 5 minutes before Shinichiro- Oh wait, he's dead - Emma came up to shut your mouths.

He had the worst smile plastered on his face

You punched his dick

Full on

With all your might

He screamed

Again

And you laughed

Who's the asshole now?

Ryuguji Ken

Man how do I start here

You don't even know why he did it

He doesn't know why he did it

"I wanted to have some fun."

Did you pull that excuse out your ass?

Probably

You were sleeping peacefully

An angel in his eyes

But he didn't give a fuck

Put on the cheapest, most fake ass clown mask he could find and stood in front of you

Leaned a little too far and lost balance

Fell on top of you

You woke up from the air being knocked out of your lungs

You looked at him

He looked at you

"Y/n—"

Bam boom

Punched him right in the nose and ran away

He removed the mask and ran after you

Jokes on him you were standing behind the door with a bat

BAM

Right in the head

"DRAKEN?!"

You're the reason he's dead.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader, 3.7k words, WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injury, stitches, cursing, violence

Guys... is it weird that I'm crying a little? This is the first series that I've ever done. This is from the first post i ever made on this blog, and I feel like I've met so many amazing people from this series. I did spend a good amount of time thinking of a good way to close this series, and I can only hope that I made it good enough for you guys. My heart breaks leaving these two behind, but I don't think this is the end for them. I do see myself writing some one shots or other things for these two. But regardless... I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy this final installment. Sending all of my love always. - Mo

---

Any soldier worth his salt knows what getting shot feels like. Either through their own experience or staying beside their brother. They all say the same thing.

A hard punch.

The immediate all encompassing burn.

Your body feels like you’ve been run over by a train.

Your body on fire.

Air sliding through your lungs like glass shards.

Alfred Solomons has been shot five times.

Six counting this one. The first time was when he was 14, and he was caught snatching sweets from the corner store, and the old store owner with the bad eyes shot at Alfie, grazing his left thigh. The other four times were in the war. Foot and shoulder and once in the lower back, which is still troubling him to this day. All of those were the same. Rage inducing. The bloodlust burning brighter than the flame of the pain. In hours he was fixed up. Rusty scalpels and pliers pulling out the shrapnel as he numbed the cuts by drowning in drink and breaking metal bars with his teeth.

This one was different. The burn and hit was memorable. As memorable as a betrayal. But the bloodlust that got him through that burn wasn’t present. Like warm oil being poured over his mind and body he felt the exhaustion of the tears settle over him. And look. An angel has come to take him to stay with the forefathers. Wow… what a mercy… the angel looks so much like you. Sounds and smells just like you. Like lavender. Like spilled ink and fresh paper. So soft and tender. What a mercy God has given him. That the angel to walk him to the other side would look like the only woman he has ever truly loved.

Tommy and Ollie rush over, as John pulls you away from Alfie's body. You screamed and kicked, trying to get free from John's grasp. "It's alright love it's alright. They're going to fix him up I promise love! He's gonna be ok!" John tried to calm you but you were inconsolable as you saw Alfie's lifeless body being carried out. It takes four men to life his large and hardened body off the ground, a pool of garnet the only sign of the King of Camden’s presence.

John’s attempts at soothing and assurance are met with deaf ears. What point is there for calm and rationalization when Alfie might be leaving you. What point was there to breathe, if breathing meant prolonging a life on Earth that may not have Alfie. Your mind was blank. And you body could do the only rational thing it could do. Wail and preparation for the certain mourning to come.

With a hard smack across your face you suddenly cease, as you see Polly's face in front of you, "Enough! This is not the time for screaming!"

Your lip quivered, never had you been smacked like that before. With a wave, Polly dismissed John to assist Ollie and Tommy, and took you to a chair to sit. Polly wiped your tears, "I am sorry for slapping you, usually I don't smack friends till we are at least 3 months acquainted, but I felt you needed it and I'm sure our friendship will survive. But you need to pull it together darling."

You nodded. It was needed. Even if your ego was now bruised. Polly sighed, "I know you're scared. We all have been in your shoes. But you cannot lose yourself. We need to be there for our men. Yes?"

You nodded. Your man. Your Alfie. Polly stroked your face, "He will live.”

“How can you be sure?”

Polly gives you an embarrassed look, attempting to push up the corner of her mouth, “They always do darling. Try as they might to die, they somehow always make it out. I think God may think these episodes are more of a punishment than Hell.”

A defeated chuckle pushes out of your chest. Alfie would say something as dark as that. And for some reason that makes you feel better. Makes you feel more centered. Polly grabs a bottle from the ground and takes a long swig before passing it to you. You take a longer one, pushing to suppress the sick face you make. Polly’s eyes are glassy, looking at your young face. Thinking and considering how you would handle this. Handle this life. Because if her intuition was right, and it always was, this wouldn’t be the last time you experienced this. This wouldn’t deter you from being next to Alfie. As if Alfie would ever let you go.

Polly stood up suddenly, looking in the gilded mirror on the wall nearest to her, smoothing her dress and repinning those loose curls that fell out in the fray. She holds out a regal hand to you, “C’mon dear. I know where they’d be taking him. He’ll want you near I wager.”

You nod and stand up, not making anymore to wipe the blood or tears off your face. Though it doesn’t stop Polly from straightening out your slip and placing your hair more akin to how you came in. As you begin walking to the door, you see a familiar glint in the shadows and wet of the floor.

Alfie’s signet ring. Small. Small for Alfie at least. You knew him to wear it on his left pinky amongst the rest of his rings. Pure gold, with a royal S engraved onto its front with ivy and thorns. You pause to pick it up and hold it in your hand. It must have slipped off in the scuffle and removal of his body. Polly looked behind herself to see what had made you stop, and marveled at how you had even caught it, “How did you even see that?”

“I suppose I’m just good at looking for his things.”

Polly smiled softly, a familiar ache in her chest reappearing. “Well make sure you don’t drop it hmm? I’m sure he’ll want it back.”

You nod, immediately slipping it onto your left ring finger. You knew innately it wouldn’t budge. It was a perfect fit.

The Shelby family had a trusted physician who routinely dealt with these sort of things. Stand. Cuts. Gunshots. The occasional childhood scrape or concussion when the children needed a good scolding and scare to not be stupid. Dr. Hendricks had been the Shelby physician for many many years. So when he was called for ‘a slight emergency’ he knew that he needed to make immediate preparations.

The Shelby boys and Ollie bashed in the ornate door of Dr. Hendricks’ door, and were immediately met with Mrs. Hendricks pushing the men into the dining room. Already prepped and cold with sterile air Dr. Hendricks directed further with a low and booming voice, “Right here Mr. Shelby, hurry, can’t risk anymore blood loss.”

Alfie was pale, but was still breathing and choking out small groans. Mrs. Hendricks worked diligently alongside the Doctor, who asked questions and made conversation with the men, trying to bring down the tension. “Mr. Solomons boys? Why the sudden fit of charity.”

Mrs. Hendricks hushed him and his sore mouth. But his cheek was what made him so beloved by the Shelbys. Even in what seemed like dire moments, the good Doctor was never one to shy away from a joke or jab. Suddenly Alfie groaned under the crowd. Tommy looked down, shocked Alfie was awake now. Alfie, through the pain and blood, groaned and moaned your name through his teeth. Tommy grabbed Alfie’s arm, “Alright Alfie alright. She’s coming. Took a little bit of a hit didn’t ya old man? You stay awake now for her yeah? Can’t let the girl see ya like this.”

The pain was a hell of a drug, and Alfie could only slur out, “She ok? That little viper make it out ok?”

Tommy could only smile. Even with all the blood loss he was still himself. “Yeah Alfie. Yeah she’s alright. A right harpy screaming out for ya. Now you gotta get fixed up for when she comes back alright?”

Alfie nodded, slipping in and out as the final fragments were being removed, “As soon as im stitched up… I’m killing every Sabini I see. Then I’m fuckin marrying her… you hear me?”

Tommy smiled as Dr. Hendricks scoffed, “I hear you Alfie. I know you will.”

Alfie passed back out on the table. Dr. Hendricks nodded at Tommy and Ollie, “He’ll be alright. Nearly hit some vital organs but it’s alright. Have a nasty scar though, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll probably sleep for the rest of the night and into the morning. You all stay here, let’s keep an eye on him yeah? Mrs. Hendricks? Would you call the kitchen to make some supper for the gentlemen here and ladies to come?”

Mrs. Hendricks and the kitchen must have indeed been witches in a past life, or in the present. because there was no logical reason that such a warm and delectable feast could have been prepared so quickly. Soup and bread and cold chicken brought up with strong tea and coffee. When John Shelby asked for gin, his head was swiftly smacked by the effervescent Mrs. Hendricks, who quickly reminded him that she knew where all his sore spots were.

Polly and you arrived soon enough, and were embraced by the Doctor and his wife. The Shelby men stood up quickly, nodding to you in respect. Ollie shucked off his coat to drape over you. It was warm in the house. But your shivering wasn’t for cold.

Before you could look to Dr. Hendricks, he gruffed out from behind his thick salt and pepper beard, “No need to fret Miss. He was a model surgical patient. Nearly slept through the entire thing. In fact that stomach of his is a model for good stitchin’ would you like to see?”

Before Dr. Hendricks could pull back the clean and crisp cotton laid over Alfie’s bare torso to show you his no doubt fantastic work, Mrs. Hendricks stopped with a cherub like hand on his thick arm, “My dear, I don’t think the lady would feel keen on seeing her darling cut and stitched. Maybe some other time yes? Why don’t we let her have time alone with Mr. Solomons? It’s late. I think we should all retire yes?”

With a look around the room everyone nodded, giving their best to you and expressing incredible thank to the Doctor and Mrs. Hendricks. The Shelby boys tipped their hats to you as they filed out. Ollie nodded to you, assuring you that he’d alert your family of your whereabouts. Polly gave you a motherly hug, kissing the tip of your head, “Chin up dear. Must be strong when he wakes up. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

As soon as you came in, you were left alone. With the soft voice of Mrs. Hendricks pulling out of your numb trance. “Let’s get you cleaned up dear. Get you in something a little more comfortable. My daughter was about your size, and I have some of her clothes in her old room.”

Like a child who just woke out of a long slumber, you were lead down the short hallways littered with photos and paintings and certificates to the now guest room of the Hendricks home. Once she realized you had gone nearly despondent, Mrs. Hendricks helped you out of your stained dress, and into a soft cream colored night gown, with pink ribbon threaded through the top. She called one of the maids bring up hot water to wash the makeup, dirt, and dried crusted blood off your face and arms. Your dress was taken to be washed, and Mrs. Hendricks un-pinned your hair, getting it loose and out of your face. She sat you back in the make shift hospital room once she assured your were comfortable and clean. She poured tea for you. Something strong. Something hot. Your thumb rubbed across the delicate ridges on the cup, incredibly interested in the greenery hand painted on the china. Unable to face the near stillness of Alfie on a table.

“You love him don’t you?”

You feel those tears welling up in your eyes. Unable to speak any louder than a whisper, you confess, “Very much.”

She smiled softly, placing her thick soft hands on your knee, “He called for you.”

You looked up, “Did he?”

A soft chuckle left her, and she sounded so much like your mother, “He did. That’s the thing about these military gangster men yeah? Big and strong and tough. Till they get hurt. Then they cry for their women. I think we are the only things that help.”

You nodded, a pained smile sneaking on your lips, hands gingerly slipping into his rough hands. So much gentler now in sleep. Your eyes never leave his hands as you ask, “How do you stand it? How does any woman stand it?”

Mrs. Hendricks just sighs. Remembering the old days with her dear husband James. Back when he running with the Lee boys. When the medical practice wasn’t just a medical practice. There was a reason he was so good at stitching people up. Mrs. Hendricks leaned back in the chair, “By trusting them. By scolding them. Telling them off when they’re being outrageous. By standing by them. Because we know even a little bit of time with them is better than a life without them.”

Mrs. Hendricks then stands up, “It’s nearly 2 sweetie. Why don’t you take Jeanine’s old room? He’ll be there when you wake up.”

You shake your head vehemently, “No. Thank you Mrs. Hendricks. Thank you very much for your hospitality. But I want to be here when he wakes. I just… I don’t want to leave him here alone.”

She softly smiles, a tear slipping by, “Alright sweetie. That’s fine. I’ll bring you a couple blankets then. And a pillow just in case. Feel free to walk around the house if you need. Kitchen is all yours.”

You’re not sure how long you stayed awake after the gifts of the blankets were delivered. But you never laid down. You sat on one of the chairs placed on the dining room table where Alfie laid. You brushed the hair out of his face and ran your fingers over his beard and scars. You rattled off the notes you had for the gaming club. You whispered to him about the set up, the prices, and how he should really be more affable with the customers. But mostly you whispered how much you loved him. How much you wished you had told him sooner. How much he scared you doing that. You chastised him for putting himself in such grave danger. And for every insult and admonishment you kissed a knuckle and scar. Every kiss an oath that you would not leave him. Not willingly. Not before death.

It was mid morning when Alfie’s gruff voice woke you, “Well ain’t you a picture.”

You gasped and sat up straight, hand clutching Alfie’s warm hand. His hand squeezed back tiredly, “Now I know I’m damned… but this sure don’t look like hell… too nice ain’t it. And I know the devil wouldn’t let an angel like you in hell with me.”

“Oh shut up you wretched old man please.”

You crashed your lips into his, relishing even in his slightly chapped lips as he chuckled into you. You feel him move under you, “Now now sweetheart easy on the old man. Don’t go popping my stitches now. Oh treacle why are you crying my dove? I’m here ain’t I? Old Alfie’s alright.”

You couldn’t help the tears falling, “I… Alfie I… you nearly died.”

He sneered, “Nah. The bastard barely nicked me. What about you eh? No bumps or bruises on you?”

You shook your head and sniffled. You knew you looked pathetic but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Alfie was alive. Not when you got to see him in the morning light like this. Alfie groaned as he pushed himself off the table. You moved to help him as he motioned you to settle. He got up, limped to another chair to sit down. The stitches held and he looked good. Still a bit pale but good. “Do you need water Alfie? Tea? I can call for breakfast.”

He shook his head, “No not yet love thank you… but come here.”

The wood floors were cold on your bare feet as you softly walked over to him. He stared up at you, as he tugged on your nightgown, signaling you to sit. Carefully… oh so carefully you sat on his lap, legs swinging over the side, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alfie leaned back with a sigh, bringing you closer, “This is all I need treacle. Just need you near.”

Stroking the scar on his jaw you whispered, “I was so scared Alfie… I thought we’d lost you.”

With half lidded eyes Alfie stared at you. Your sweet lips and teary eyes. A picture of beauty and serenity. The rough callouses on his hands caressed up and down your bare arms, “You’re never going to lose me dearie. I’ll always be here. No matter what. You know why?”

The way his eyes become like fire makes your heart beat faster, “Why?”

He brings your hand to his heart. His own hand dwarfing yours as you feel the strong and steady heartbeat in his chest, “Because this sweetheart… this belongs to you… No matter what happens… in this life the next one and every other fuckin one… I belong to you. You ain’t ever got to worry about what might happen because I’m with you. You got it?”

You smile, nodding, feeling as though your heart is going to burst, “My heart belongs to you Alfie.”

“You don’t have to say it back treacle.”

“I do if it’s the truth.”

A blush rose in his cheeks, barely concealed by his beard and the smile that broke out on his face. “Well… treacle… if that’s the case… I wanted to ask you in a more romantic way…”

“Alfred Solomons…”

“But this seems like a good time…”

“I swear if you dare ask me…”

“And we never know what’s to happen next…”

“Alfred Solomons I am in a night gown!”

“Woman if you do not be quiet I am trying to ask you to be my wife!!”

Your hand flies to your mouth in utter shock. Alfie’s brows are furrowed but he’s trying to keep the smile off his face, “Marry me sweetheart. Be my wife please. I can’t promise that I’ll suddenly be a tame boy but I can promise you that I love you more than any other man ever could love a woman. You can scold me all you want and I’ll never be cross with you.”

He watches you bite your lip and think, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven for real this time. You cheekily smile, “I do like it when you’re cross though.”

A dark glint flashes in his eyes as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, which you all too willingly return. When you come up for air he asks you again, “Is that a yes? You going to be my wife?”

You laugh, “Yes Alfie. Always yes.”

Laughs escaped out of you in a stampede as he presses a million prickly kisses to your cheeks. He mumbles out onto your face, "I need to get you a ring. We'll go to the shop yeah? You pick out any ring you like, I'll resize whatever I need to. Fuck we'll design it for ya yeah?"

You push him back from his assault on your face and hold up your left hand, The one holding his signet, "One could say I have one already. You dropped it on the way over."

Alfie grabbed your wrist to inspect your hand. When he finally recognized the ring and noticed his own was missing, his laughter roared out, "Fuck me you are always so prepared. Always two steps ahead of me ain't ya? Well alright treacle. There's your engagement ring for now. But on our wedding day, I'm giving you a dazzling rock you hear me?"

You laugh again as he rants and raves for his idea of a ring for you. Knowing inside that it didn't matter what he gave you. If he gave you a ring at all. All that mattered was that he was here. He was yours. And you are is.

6 Months Later

The slow sea air dances in through the open window, sending the gossamer curtains floating around you. The radio scratches out something slow and tantalizing from America, the notes sending shivers down your spine. You're dizzy from the night you've had. The butterflies and bubbly drinks and spinning along the floor. You can't believe it happened. You can't believe your wedding day arrived. You feel as though you're amongst the clouds. The only thing keeping you anchored to the Earth is Alfie's grip on your white satin slip as you sway against him to the music.

Late at night. Early morning. Too much work to tell. But it was the first time in a week that you've been able to be alone with Alfie. Your husband.

"What're you thinking about my love?"

You press your face against his chest, shirt long discarded, "I'm just so happy. I didn't think I'd have this. That we'd have this.'

He hums as he presses his lips to your hair, smelling the perfume that had been brushed through your hair. "But we have it now. This is the greatest gift I've ever received. This is the life I've always dreamed of sweet."

You continue to dance with your husband until your bodies couldn't take it anymore. Soon enough he carried you to bed, quickly drifting off into deep sleep in Alfie's arms. In the morning you would wake not as a secretary. Not as a scared girl. Not as someone who felt as she didn't belong. But as Alfie's wife. Alfie's partner. A confidant. A capable woman running a business alongside her best friend. Tomorrow you would wake up excited for this next part of your life. Waking up to a new beginning.

Tag List:

@jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee , @galactict3a , @il0vebeingdelulu @enretrogue @j23r23 @mulletmcghee @afuckingdisasterreally @graceisinloveagain

[chemical-killjoy]

You Decide

Platonic Jinx x Reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/N is betrayed by someone close to them, but luckily Jinx is there to help

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This is more of a drabble cause it's short, but anyway. I'm hyperfixating on arcane, so any requests (or rants lol) just let me know!

Despite all the clouds, and the dark buildings surrounding you, it was a bright night, the city lights brightening the clouds... Or maybe that was just the lightning. It was as though the sky felt the same betrayal you did. Your anger. The thunder. Your tears. The rain. You fell to your knees, screaming pointlessly in pain. Punches landed on the pavement, and blood mixed with water on the cement. Tears mixed with rain, and emotions clouded your mind.

The voices were loud. Too loud. The storm over your head was nothing compared to the one in your mind. Echoes of the words spoken. Aches of the ones that were never said; and never would be.

You couldn't believe what had happened. The betrayal struck you like lightning; unexpected and full of electricity burning you to your core. Now you were bent over, crying, bleeding, howling. You knew the numbness would come later. The plastic band-aid would cover the dirty bullet hole as though it was a mere scrape; you'd tell yourself it happened to someone else. Not you. You cannot be hurt, you're strong. Well, this version of you. You'd tell yourself it didn't hurt. It didn't matter. And you'd change... but that would come later.

Now was the time for screaming into the sky, seeing blood, tinged red with rage, and blue, the colour water and the misery.

You sobbed, doubled over as though punched in the gut, heaving. The reflection of the broken person in the puddle was someone you didn't recognise. Someone you didn't acknowledge. The numbness was about to take over; and with it, your dark resolve, when the image in the puddle was shaken and replaced but the metal tip of a boot.

You looked up to see a familiar face; Jinx.

The girl bobbed down, and looked at you with wide, curious eyes, head tilted. You held eyes with her, unwavering, until your mouth betrayed you with a quivering lip. You looked away and a sob escaped you.

“She did it.”

The words were small as they came out, so quiet you could barely hear them yourself. Jinx's eyes flickered over you, down and back up, assessing. Then the stoic face cracked. Now was not the time for explosions and manic laughter; there was plenty of that today. Without thought, Jinx dived on you, knocking you harshly against the pavement in a brutal but well-meaning hug.

And you broke down.

It was too much. The betrayal. The hurt. Doing... well. Words couldn't even explain what they did. It hurt too much. You sobbed into Jinx's arms as she held you still, comforting you without knowing how. All she could do was cling on and mutter to herself.

“How dare she.” “We'll make them pay.” “I have just the thing for them, toots!” all came tumbling from Jinx's mouth. The last one caught your attention.

“Jinx. No.”

“But they hurt you. They're gonna pay.” you felt the hatred tinge her voice. “No one hurts you. 'cept maybe me. But you'd forgive me, right? You always do.” This time her tone was soft, fragile.

“'Course I'd forgive you. You never hurt me purposely, like I'd never hurt you knowingly.” you spoke gently, though confused as to how the conversation changed. But when Jinx spoke again you understood her point.

“Yeah. Sooo,”

“Just, just let me think before you go blow them up, kay?”

You looked into her eyes and saw she was fighting herself. But then she nodded. Jinx sat up so abruptly the air suddenly filling your lungs made you choke.

“C'mon, I didn't squeeze ya that hard.” The blue haired girl chuckled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her head. “Grounded ya though, right?”

You realised you weren't numb anymore. You weren't spiralling. A half smile gave Jinx the answer she wanted. You sat up, pointlessly wiping a tear as the rain splashed around you.

“Can I- can I maybe stay wi-” you started to ask Jinx if you could stay with her that night. You both knew neither of you were safe to be left alone after the events that happened a mere half hour ago.

“I'm not leaving you.” Jinx stated fiercely, and you looked up at where she was standing. “I'm not like them. I'm not abandoning you. You're not alone.“You've got me! And all my friends!” Her eyes lit up as she tapped the gun strapped to her back, tone changing fast as always, only able to be serious a moment, but her care for you never changing.

It was chaotic, but what you needed to hear. That you're not alone.

But it wasn't enough.

“Yeah.”

You looked around the alley you were in, rain dripping from your hair down your face, dropping into your lap. You looked down.

“Jinx?” your voice was soft, timid. The weakness in it scared you, but you felt you had no strength left.

“What's up, toots?”

“I... uh... I dunno... Who...”

“Spit it out, we don't have all day.”

“Who am I without them?”

You weren't expecting the words to strike such a cord within Jinx, but for a moment the chaos of her stopped. She was just Jinx again, the loose cannon in the background. Your favourite Jinx.

Jinx's boots landed with a heavy thud as she walked slowly back over to you. As she knelt down, you saw a seriousness in her eyes that you'd never seen before. She brushed some damp hair back from your face, and lifted your head by your chin to meet her eyes.

“You decide.”

She stood up, and offered you her hand.

“You show 'em. Show 'em who you are, what you're capable of. That you're not their lil toy to be played.”

Jinx looked into the distance for a moment.

“We'll show them all.”

When Jinx looked back at you, memories staining her eyes, you knew what she meant. Who she was thinking of. You felt something in your heart change, and you took her hand and rose to your feet.

You'd had enough of being abandoned. Betrayed. Left out to cry in the rain. Left to die. You felt you'd always understood Silco and Jinx. But it wasn't til this moment that you really understood. And Jinx would be there to help you rummage around the wreckage to find the version of yourself you needed. Maybe you'd heal. But for now, you'd survive.

Taglist: @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @smiling-girl (idk if you wanna be tagged or not, but ily and you're my bestie so you get tagged away hehe) (same with you @charlie-rulerofhell) @fandomfoodiedancer

[marvel-and-chicago-fan]

Break Through Au

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You go out ice skating on the lake with your brothers and Things don’t go as planned for you three

Warnings: CPR/Death, Falling through Ice, Hospitals, Yelling

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were on the ice with your brothers Will and Jay, even though you weren’t allowed to, you guys still went regardless.

It was 10pm, no one would be out here to get in your way or yell at you to get off the ice.

“Cmon Y/n/n, it's better out here” Jay said while attempting to slide farther out to the lake. 

“I don’t know Jay, I kinda wanna stay over here. That way I get off easier than struggling to get off if I'm way over there.” you shrugged.

“Alright then, me and will be over there if you need us' ' He pointed towards the middle of the lake.

“Alright, I’m just gonna slide around.” You shivered. Maybe I should work more layers. You thought to yourself.

After a while you got bored and decided to go over to Will and Jay who were “fighting” over who got the better hockey stick.

Will pulled out his phone and checked the time. “Guys it’s 11 o'clock, she should head home now, if we all get a cold moms gonna know that we went outside without asking her, especially if Y/n gets sick”

“But I'm getting good at hockey,” you whined.

Will and Jay just have you that look. “Alright alright let’s go” You caved.

Because your brothers were better on ice than you were, they went up ahead of you. 

“GUYS! I'M NOT AS FAST AS YOU SLOW DO-“ Before you could finish your sentence a loud Crack interrupted you.

That made the two Halstead brothers come to a halt and turn around to you. “No,” Jay whispered. “Y/n don’t move, just stay still we’ll come to you”

Before you could say anything the Ice broke.

Jays pov:

“Y/N, SHIT NO” I screamed, my little sister just fell through the ice.

Me and Will immediately slide over to where she fell in and I immediately throw my whole arm in the freezing water to see if I can feel Y/n

“Give me your other arm so I can pull you once you get her!” Will shouts.

“Once I touch something that feels semi to a human arm I pull. I can tell it’s Y/n because once I pull I feel a bit of weight. 

“PULL WILL, PULL” 

Once we were towards the edge of the Lake I pick y/n up bridal style and rushed over to land.

“Put her down here.” Will says. 

“What the hell do we do?” I cry

“She’s not breathing, Jay, you need to run back to the house and call someone” Wills is studying medicine so he knows a couple of things about what to do in a life or death situation.

“WHO DO I CALL?” I shout

“I DO GIVE A FUCK, CALL 9-1-1 AND HURRY”

My body moves into autopilot as I’m running through the forest making sure I don’t trip on any rocks or roots. 

My legs are burning and I can’t breathe but I can’t stop, if I stop Y/ns gonna die and it’ll be all my fault.

As I reach the house I punch in the code to the door and run upstairs to my bedroom. 

I basically almost threw my  phone into the air while trying to pick it up.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?”

“It’s -it’s my sister, she fell into the lake and I don’t know if she’s breathing”

“Check if she has a pulse”

“My older brother is with her at the lake, he-he's studying medicine so he knows what he’s doing”

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Uhh jay, my names Jay”

“Alright Jay, How old is your sister and how long was she under water for?”

“I don’t- 5 minutes maybe, and her name is Y/n, but we all call her Y/n/n. I don't know what I’m gonna tell my mom, that my littler sister died because we didn’t listen to her?” I’m panicking.

“Jay, I’m gonna need you to take a deep breath, I have help coming on the way right now”

How did she get my location? I didn’t even tell her.

***

The paramedics arrived and Jay led them to the lake where Will was with you. 

Will did successfully get you back but you were still unconscious. 

Why didn’t we just listen?

***

“15 Year old Female Y/n Halstead, Hypothermia after falling through ice, Was unconscious on site and Has a history of Heart issues.” The paramedic listed off all the things

(Ik that Grey's anatomy is in Seattle but because the show is so old let’s just pretend that this happened with them, it’s been awhile since I’ve watched it so if I make mistakes Woops)

“Alright,on my count if we move her. 1…2…3”Alex said.

Alex looked you over and started telling Jo things to do. “I want a head Ct, Keep me updated on her temperature and get me Derek for a consult.” Jo nodded.

Jay and Will followed Dr. Karev outside. “Is she gonna be ok?” Jay asked.

“She’s not out of the woods yet, but we won’t know more until she wakes up which will be a couple of hours” 

***

“Jay Halstead and Will Halstead” A stern voice called to them that made them Gulp.

“What in the world happened, and why did the Atwater’s call me and say that something happened on the lake and I needed to come home?” Your Mom stoked with her hands on her hips.

Jay and Will glanced at each other and knew they had no way out of this so they just decided to tell the truth and get it over with.

“I have told you guys time and time again not to play on that lake during the winter,

If you want to go ice skating go to the bigger one. Y/n has been punished enough, and as for you too, just until we get home, me and your father Will real with you. Do you understand?”

“Yes mom,” The boys said together.

“Alright, either the Atwater’s or the Uptons are going to pick you guys up and take you home. I will stay here with your sister, your father should be at home by now”

“But mom-“ Jay said. “No buts, wait here”

***

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident and A lot had happened. 

You were on the News, people came to your school and spoke about Ice safety. Jay and Will were indeed grounded but only for two weeks. The lake was now closed off while they were still doing an investigation. Which you didn’t understand why because it’s not like anything else happened but it was whatever.

“Y/n hurry up you’re going to miss the bus!” Jay shouted from downstairs.

“HOLD ON IM COMING” You grabbed your backpack and ran down the stairs.

After getting all your stuff in your backpack you got all your stuff ready to walk to the bus stop.

“Alright, what’s the rules?” Will questioned you.

“No wandering off to the other lake, don’t take off my jackets unless I really need to and don’t get anything that will drop my body temperature” 

“Good.”

“Do you still have to put my hat and Jacket on for me? I’m 15 years old.”

“Because of recent events and mom being gone and I’m going to leave soon I need to make sure you're ok, plus your body temperature is still not to its normal temp yet so layers it is.” You rolled your eyes at what would be said.

“I will pick you up for your doctor's appointment maybe 30 minutes before school ends, and Jay will drop your lunch off at the front office” Will said as he started walking at the door. 

“Bye will see you later” 

Once Will was gone, you ate the last of your waffles and grabbed your hot chocolate or what Jays calls “Jay's famous Hot chocolate” but it tasted like any other drink.

***

“I miss having you out on the lake by the middle school” Your friend Ellie said.

“Me too, but ever since my mom died Will and Jay have been strict on what I can do since my dad won’t really do much and they're trying to get me to learn stuff before Will leaves for New York and Jay leaves to serve” You shrugged.

“But I did convince Jay to get you some fries and nuggets” You laughed 

“You are literally the best, I really didn’t feel like spending all my money in my account today” Yeah the school food was expensive but it’s because you guys had fast food restaurants in your cafeteria so I guess it made sense.

***

“Hey Nugget” Will greeted you as you got into the car.

“Hi Will, can we please get McDonald’s after my appointment?” 

“Sure, where’s Jay? I told him he could get out of school early since he has a free period this week.”

“He said he wanted to stay at school, so he’s probably just walking around the hallways or doing whatever Jay does” You shrugged.

You thought about it for a while, your life was somewhat falling apart. Will was leaving for New York. Jay was getting deployed so you weren’t gonna see him. And your mom was gone so all you had left was your Dad, and your dad wasn’t the best person now since your dad died.

“Hey Will?”You broke the silence 

“Yeah Nugget?” 

“I’m- I’m gonna miss you when you leave” Here comes the water works.

“Me too Y/n me too”

Life from now on was going to be way different for you , and everyone around you knew that. You were going to get through it and it was going to be Ok. Right?

Well that’s at least what you thought…