#In before someone mentions tears streaming down your face hush up

[stardustedknuckles]

I can grow up and learn to handle my issues and I can gently make fun of Coldplay as a phenomenon and a phase but I am never more than a single "fix you" or "the scientist" away from staring at my ceiling with tears rolling down my temples into my pillow and that's just a fact.

[chlorinecake]

Imagine slow but rough sex with Jungwon cause he found out that you were not being yourself.

"Baby's not feeling well, hm?

"yeah, fuck everyone. But, I can fuck you up harder"

"Insecure? Baby, you got a pussy that can make any man pray"

"Cry over my cock instead, yeah?"

Fuck Now, Talk Later | Y.JW

▹ PAIRING : soft dom! bf! jungwon x subby! gf!reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUMMARY : Just Jungwon fucking your tears away with a bit of rough COMFORT SEX because you’re too pretty to cry over anything other than his cock.

▹ CONTAINS : ⚠︎ swearing, kissing, praise kink, pet names (angel, kitty, good girl), unprotected sex (cowgirl variations), mild dacryphilia, mentions of insecurities, reference to cigar use

▹ WORD COUNT : 2.2k — special tags for my fellow won-girlies @candewlsy and @theothernads ⋆.˚

Your eyebrows that were once screwed into little bows of frustration atop your face had finally popped, a stream of tears spilling over your cheeks as you ran straight to your bedroom, where you sobbed your sorrows into the sheets…

It wasn’t long before your boyfriend Jungwon realized you had got back home from hanging with your friends already, though…

Standing up from his reading nook in the living room, he went off in search for you, following the hushed sounds of your cries all the way to the bedroom.

And there you were… curled up into a tight ball of sadness as you sniffled beneath the sole comfort of your zip-down hoodie, hiding your face from him.

“Aww,” your boyfriend started gently, walking over to sit beside you on the mattress… “What’s the matter, hm?… Baby's not feeling too well?…”

You felt his hand caress the dip in your waist now as you laid down, but it only made you tense up, feeling worse for burdening him.

“N-no, Wonie… I just hate crying like this… especially in front of you…,” you managed to say, trying to give him a hint that you wanted to be alone for a few moments, but he persisted anyways.

“You never have to hide your emotions from me, love…” Jungwon encouraged, briefly breathing against your cheek before kissing the skin there, “It’s important that I see these parts of you, too, y’know?…”

You had been dating Jungwon for a little less than a year now, and one relationship goal that has always been the same for him was prioritizing your comfort.

He wanted you to be okay with sharing all types of intimacy… not just the parts that involved sex.

Naturally though, your boyfriend was never really an emotional person, and yet he strived to become better in that aspect because of you… because he knew there’d be a time where you needed that emotional comfort from him more than anything—

“Please, ____,” Jungwon’s voice sounded from behind you, “just tell me what’s wrong, baby…”

You sighed at his pleading before answering, not meeting his eyes only for him to scan your face anyways, admiring how lovely your teary eyes looked in this moment.

“I don’t know, Wonie… I guess I’ve just… I haven’t been feeling like myself, lately…”

“Ahh… so you’re telling me my pretty girl has got herself all worked up over insecurities again?”

“Well- it’s not just that… s-someone said that I’ve changed for the worse…”

It was earlier while you were hanging out with your friends…

One of the girls there, who you remembered as your former smoking buddy, had some pretty nasty things to say about you once she found out you had been trying to quit using.

“Yeah, you might’ve quit the pen, but all those lingering nerves are making you eat yourself to death, now… just look at your legs… they’ve gotten so big since the last time we spoke…”

Sighing at the memory, you sat up on the bed now, looking back at Jungwon’s stoic expression that spoke a thousand words for itself as he went on to ask:

“Are you seriously gonna let those empty words get you upset like this?…”

His hand was on your thigh, distracting you from answering at first until you decided to simply shake your head at his question, feeling the tears erupt within you all over again.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you croaked with a squeaky voice, feeling yourself hiccup a bit from sniffling so hard, “I’m so sorry for being this way…”

For being your dysfunctional, basket-case of a girlfriend, you wanted to add, but the words got caught in the anxious web of your own mind, a spider feeling as though it’d just crawled down your throat as you continued bullying yourself in your head.

Jungwon had never seen you so sad before, and the way you just leaned into him while sobbing into the crook of his neck made his heart sink and swell at the same time.

The moisture from your face peppered his shoulders as he gently caressed your back, cooing within the sullen air.

“Don’t apologize when you did nothing wrong, ____,” he demanded with a whisper, pulling away from the hug to look in your face, “you understand me?”

You nodded again, making him smile softly as he kissed away the tears trailing your left cheek, his free, sweater-gloved hand wiping the other side.

“I just wanna feel better, already… regardless of what other people think of me,” you say as the end of his sleeve kept patting at your tears.

“And you will,” Jungwon went on, tilting his head at you with a thumb running over your lower lip. “Fuck those people and their opinions, ____…” he said, kissing you on the corner of your lips but only going in for more once you hummed in approval.

But of course, the tears came back, and you’re not sure why, but they wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay, angel… let it all out,” Jungwon whispered against your lips, but you turned your head, letting your back find the mattress and covering your face.

“I … I can’t, Wonie… I hate feeling like such a crybaby over the smallest of things,” you sniffled, vision blurring with the amount of tears spilling over the edge of your lash bed now.

“Move your hands, love… I don’t like it when you hide your face from me…”

You look so gorgeous when you cry, your boyfriend wanted to add, but decided not to let his dirty thoughts thrive in this moment…

He opted to lay down beside you instead, joining your flat posture on the mattress before trailing a hand from the top of your knee and up to the point where the skirt you wore was hiked up over your hips now.

And yes, you weakly tried to swat his hands away, but he persisted, pulling your skirt back over your curves before hooking his first finger at the hem of your black, lace panties.

“You can always cry over my cock instead,” he whispered in a low voice now, his offer drawing you back to the present and out of your thoughts as the feeling of his hand inching closer to your core made your thighs tense up.

“W-Wonie~” your breath hitched, his fingers feeling cold against your warm skin as you failed to meet his lustful gaze.

“No no no, look at me… tell me how you want me to help you feel better, yea?”

With the last bit of willpower you had, you let your puffy eyes flicker up to meet his face, shuddering as you felt your panties slip lower and lower from their original position.

“I don’t really know what to say, Jungwon,” your voice came out below a whisper, your anxious thighs squeezing together as if it’d help hide the expanse of flesh from his eyes.

But his eyes weren’t looking there, anyways, being more concerned with the expression on your face than anything.

“Want me to help fuck all those tears away, kitty?... Is that what my pretty baby needs?”

And just like that, you felt it… the fiery rush in your stomach letting you know that it was only a matter of time before he had you bouncing on top of him, begging for more…

But as much as your body wanted to say yes, your mind was still making you feel insecure, especially as your panties were completely gone at this point, your hesitant body still trying to ease into his touch as he sat you in his lap.

Jungwon let his hands caress over the bow you tied around your thighs as your weight sunk into the straddle… your beautiful, soft, and perfect thighs…

Your hands found his shoulders for leverage, right as he kissed the center of your lips, humming at the way you clung to him now.

Your nose was still a bit stuffy from crying so much, so the kiss ended up being a lot sloppier than usual which only helped to turn you on even more.

“Such a good girl,” Jungwon muttered breathlessly as you suddenly broke from the contact, watching as you got to work on freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

Climbing back over him, you simply hovered over his length, kissing him one more time on the lips before sliding him into you, tensing up a bit at the sensation.

“Mmm,” you hummed, feeling his hands push your thighs down just to help speed things up a bit.

And it didn’t take long for you to start moving once he was fully inside you, those pretty feline eyes of his becoming heavy at the relief his cock found in your pussy.

Letting his back fall against the bed, Jungwon kept his hands at your waist as you continued bouncing on his cock, a red hue blushing to your cheeks now as he started playing with your boobs.

“You’re taking me so well today, baby,” your boyfriend whispered in a low voice while squeezing the flesh of your tits in his hand, “always look so pretty while bouncing on my cock…”

You whimpered slightly at the painful feeling coupled with his dirty words, clenching around his member as the pace of your hips grew faster with your need.

“W-wonie~” you began to say, holding onto his wrists as his hands stayed cupped around your breasts.

“What is it, baby?” He asked in an almost cloyingly sweet tone, taking one of his free hands and pinching your cheek to make you blush even more.

“W-want you to fuck me, Wonie… p-please,” you whine in between feeling his thumb find the inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you finally meet his eyes again.

“You gotta be more specific, kitty,” he says, catching on to the way you visibly sulk at his words, “how does my pretty girl want to be fucked?”

As frustrated as you were starting to feel with his teasing, you couldn’t help but keep bouncing in his lap, practically drooling over the way his tip felt sliding against all the best parts inside you.

“Need you to be rough with me, Wonie,” you manage to say breathlessly, eyes tearing up now at the rollercoaster of emotions, “need you so bad—”

“Shhh… I’ve got you, baby,” Jungwon cooed, moving his thumb from your mouth and swiping the moisture from your eyes, “gonna help you feel so much better…”

You felt his touch guide you against his stomach now, your face resting in the crook of his shoulder as he held you against him with his strength, thrusting himself inside you.

And you almost couldn’t believe that he was starting off so fast, gripping a handful of your hair as tiny grunts fell from his lips, your eyes pricking with moisture as he kept pounding into you.

“God, p-please… go harder,” you whined out weakly, only to moan as his grip on your hair tightened, a string of curses falling from his mouth as his hips snapped into you even faster.

“Let me see those pretty tears of yours again, baby… let me know how good I’m making you feel…”

The sound of skin against skin would be impossible for anyone outside to ignore at this point, especially with the way you kept whining for him...

“Feels so good, Wonie,” you cried out, feeling the band in your stomach tighten as your climax treaded closer and closer to spilling over the edge, “need you to make me cum so badly…”

“Already?” Your boyfriend asked with a slight chuckle to his tone, even though he knew he wasn’t gonna last very much longer himself, “my pretty girl is always so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Y-yes, yes,” your voice came out in erotic moans as your pussy throbbed with a burning need.

Only a few more seconds had passed before you were squirming on top of him, his hands having to hold you down given how much your body trembled.

“Nghh,” Jungwon’s voice followed right after, just as the feeling of his release coating your walls became obvious to you, a string of mumbled praise slipping from his mouth.

And all you could do was whimper at your boyfriend’s words, both of your hips riding out their highs as his lips found your face, kissing away the tears there as you melted into his touch.

Eventually, he let his dick slip out of the comfort of your warm hole, caressing your back as you returned a kiss to his lips, missing the closeness already…

“Feel any better?” Jungwon asked, a faint smile creeping upon his delicate features as you adored the sight of him in your own heart.

“Thanks to you, yes,” is the last thing you remembered saying in that moment, your tingly legs still straddling his lap as fell back into his embrace, grateful to have a boyfriend as perfect as him…

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Thanks to everyone who read this quick little fic! If you're interested, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more works like this !!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr @sussyjake

[starlightkun]

❧ teaser word count: 973 | full fic: 26.0k ❧ genre: angst, fluff, paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ❧ warnings: mentions of death, prominent side character dies early in the fic, depictions of grieving, family member of the reader is sick (it’s dementia-like, though the disease is never named in the fic), family tension/drama (reader has some family members that are not very nice to her), reader has some sleep/physical health issues at one point, reader is just really going through it in this fic for a while ❧ extra info: the reader’s mom in this has early-onset memory issues; i didn’t name a specific disease because im not a medical expert of any kind and didn’t want to misrepresent any real-life illness in this fic. i combined both my own experiences with my own family members who have had these kinds of illnesses and some research, but i am not an expert and the representation in this fic may not be entirely accurate! ❧ estimated release date: saturday, august 24, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time

Crying at a wake was normal. Encouraged even. But you weren’t amongst loved ones, remembering someone you’d lost. You were alone, sitting at the top of the stairs in the dark, crying into your arms to muffle your sobs as you tried to compose yourself from the confrontation you’d just survived. Barely. Your hands were balled into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Are you okay?” A quiet voice caught your attention, gentle, then hushed as he seemed to be speaking to himself, “Why are you asking that? Stupid, stupid.”

You picked your head up out of your arms, quickly wiping the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks as you spotted a young man at the bottom of the stairs. He had dark hair and was dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt, and what looked like a black cardigan over the shirt. You didn’t recognize him from the wake, but you hadn’t greeted everyone, nor did you know all the mourners personally. Many were either family friends of your stepdad’s from before he met your mother, old colleagues, or distant relations.

Sniffling and trying to right your clothes, you offered him as much of a smile you could muster, “I’m sorry, it’s uhm, been a long day.”

He froze, his eyes locking on yours and going wide. The man looked behind him, as if expecting you to have been addressing somebody else, and upon seeing an empty hallway, he turned back to you and hesitantly replied, “That’s… okay. Are you alright?”

“Oh, as alright as I can be, I suppose,” you admitted, dabbing at your eyes with your sleeve again. You weren’t sure why you were telling this random man that, but he had spotted you sobbing at a wake, so there wasn’t much of a point in covering that fact up. “Were you looking for the bathroom or…?”

“No, just stretching my legs.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I don’t think I saw you at the funeral. How did you know my stepdad? Family friend?”

“Yeah, I was around when his kids were growing up.”

“Oh, are you a childhood friend of his sons or something?”

“Friend is a stretch, I think,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly as well, adding a polite but hollow, “I’m sure they appreciate you coming out to pay your respects.”

As he shifted on his feet, the shadows on his face lessened, letting you see his features better. You furrowed your brow with interest.

“How old are you? I mean—You don’t look older than me, you must’ve been much younger than them growing up.”

“I-I mean, we weren’t very close,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Feeling bad about putting him on the spot in this sort of scenario, you offered him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. I didn’t grow up with my stepbrothers, so I guess it’s a bit hard for me to imagine them having friends—Oh!”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you slapped a hand over it, wishing you hadn’t said them, especially not to some stranger, who for all you know could turn right around and repeat it to your stepbrothers. That would be the last thing you needed, to give them another reason to hate you, and by extension, your mother.

“That didn’t come out right!” You desperately tried to backpedal, holding your hands out in front of you. “I-I meant that I haven’t met a lot of their friends, since our parents got together later in life, and—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured you calmly, taking a couple hesitant steps up the stairs. You scooted over to make room for him to sit next to you on the top step. He pressed himself against the banister, leaving plenty of space between you two. “I didn’t mean to, but I heard some of what they said to you in the kitchen.”

“I would normally be upset at you for eavesdropping, but I’m kind of glad that somebody else heard some of the shit they said to me this time,” you chuckled cynically.

“‘This time?’” He repeated questioningly. “Are they always like that to you?”

“I don’t see them that often. I think the first time I met the middle son was at the wedding, actually,” you said. “They started spending more holidays with their mom instead of Hyukjun when my mom… after her diagnosis.”

“Oh.”

“God, sorry, you don’t need to be hearing all this shit.” You shook your head at yourself. “I mean, I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Jisung.”

“Y/N.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s true. You and your mom are his family, too.”

You messed with the sleeves of your shirt as you stared at the bottom step, gnawing on your bottom lip, ignoring the metallic taste of blood when you broke skin. Finally, once you’d swallowed down the lump in your throat, you replied with a tight, “Thanks. And I mean, I understand why they would be upset. Their dad just died and two people who are essentially strangers to them are now living in their childhood home. Of course they feel weird about it.”

“That’s... gracious.”

“It’s true. And like I said, their dad died, they deserve some grace.” From elsewhere in the house, you could hear your mom calling your name, and immediately jumped to your feet. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

“I understand.” Jisung nodded to you. “It was nice talking to you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for listening, Jisung.” You waved to him over your shoulder as you rushed down the stairs and off in the direction of your mother’s voice.

⤷ masterlist

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚ Keep Me Afloat ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚

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♡ Concerned!Sweet!Bf!Matt x Sad!Gf!Reader x Concerned!Sweet!Bf!Chris

♡ Warnings : mental/emotional burnout, crying, sad thoughts, bed rotting, brief mention of self negelct, comfort, pet names (Ma, baby, sweetheart, angel.)

♡ Wc : I’ll update this later

♡ A/N : Matt and Chris are dating reader! If I’m being honest, I’ve never written a thing for a three person couple so sorry if this is eh and let me know if yall fw it? I’ve been in such a sad mood that now it’s making me want to write sad stuff again. Also if any of this is touchy subject for you please read at your own risk! It’s not very detailed but just in case. Always remember to reach out to someone if you ever need help, I am here for any of you that need to talk. <3

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

To say you were drained was an understatement. Your mind feeling foggy everyday as if you were just existing without ever really thinking. It became more common for yourself to just lay in bed everyday before and after work, not really doing anything to care for yourself much in between.

Matt and Chris had no idea how bad you were getting. Always making excuses not to see them because you were “too busy” when that was never really the case. You were always bad at expressing your feelings, not letting anyone offer help because you were so used to suffering alone.

It felt like you were drowning, your own thoughts consumed your mind every second of the day. You were tired, sore, and mentally exhausted. Wanting to leave your job, the weight of responsibilities becoming too much to bear.

So here you were, laying in your bed with the covers up to your chin and your stuffed animal clutched tightly in your grasp. Your two weeks already out, in and over with, no longer working. You had yet to tell Matt and Chris, slightly ignoring their texts and ghosting them as you reveled in your own mind.

They became worried, constantly talking to one another about what to do and if they should go see you because it had been weeks.

So when they had finally showed up at your home, using their spare key to let themselves in, they found it in disarray. Clothes scattered in places they shouldn’t be, take out containers littered the floor. They frowned, looking at one another as they made their way to your room.

You could hear their hushed voices, footsteps growing louder as they approached your room. Of course they knocked first, entering in shortly after. It was dark, the blackout curtains drawn closed to drown out the light.

“Sweetheart?” Matt questioned, his body moving toward the bed as Chris trailed behind slightly. You didn’t move, your eyes staring blankly as his frame appeared in front of you.

His hand came out slowly to the cover, pulling it down slight to see your face. You looked pale, the dark bags under your eyes indicating you weren’t getting enough sleep. It broke their hearts.

Chris came up behind you, the bed dipping where he sat down, his hand coming out to rub your back. “Ma what’s wrong?” He asked, the worry laced into his words.

You just shook your head at them, “couldn’t take it anymore — s’too much.” You whispered as your face grew hot. Big tears streaming down your face quickly. “I-I feel so worn down. So d-drained — m’left my j-job.” You sobbed.

Their eyes widened at your words, your tears cascading down your cheeks. Matt laid down In front of you, pulling you to his chest as Chris laid behind you. “Shh — s’okay baby. Why didn’t you tell us?” Matt said as he ran his hand along your hair, the strands tangled slightly.

You shrugged, continuing to cry into his chest. Chris’ hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, trying to help calm you. “I-I just didn’t — didn’t w-want you guys to b-be concerned.” You whispered between sobs, the tears wetting Matt’s shirt. Your hands fisted in his shirt, holding him close to you as you just broke.

“We’re always going to be concerned about you baby, whether it be for small things or big things. We won’t ever stop worrying about you.” Chris stated, Matt nodding in agreement as he added on to Chris’ words. “You can always tell us if something is bothering you sweetheart — if you’re struggling, because we’ll always be here to help you.”

You nodded your head, knowing their words were true. “I was s-so unhappy there — it became too m-much on my mental health.. and emotional health.” You stated, sniffling as your tears began to stop. Feeling too tired to cry anymore. “Became hard to find time to do anything, hard to t-take care of myself.” You added.

Chris and Matt nodded at your words, holding you in their embraces tighter. It felt good to be held by them, after pushing them away for so many weeks, allowing yourself to somewhat relax after the constant fighting with your brain.

“We’re here now angel. let us take care of you, okay?” Matt whispered against your head as his lips pressed a kiss to your temple.

Chris nodded in agreement, “you don’t have to worry about a thing ma, just let us help you feel better. How about a nice long bubble bath?” He said, squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You nodded your head slowly, allowing them to take over for you, to help you just let go. You felt Chris move behind you, standing up to walk to your connected bathroom. Cupboard doors behind opened and closed as the water began to run, Matt holding you close still as his hands continued to rub soothing circles on you.

Chris walked back into the room, making his way back over to where you and Matt were. He pulled the covers back from you, scooping you up in his arms gently as he pressed a kiss to your head just like Matt did. He walked back to the bathroom, setting you down gently as Matt followed behind.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the bath okay?” He said softly, tugging your shirt up and over your head. The rest of your clothes following suit as he guided you into the tub, Matt helping where he could.

They sat there near you as you seemed to relax into the warm water, eyes closing momentarily. You somehow knew you were going to be okay, even if it was going to be hard to fix how you were feeling. But, you had two of the most amazing people to help you every step of the way.

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© Strnilolover

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾

♡ Another A/N : Wrote this while half asleep so if it seems repetitive and such I’m sorry </3

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾

✧˚ Tags : @her-favorite | @hearts4werka | @matttttiee | @sluttybitchformattsturniolo | @weirdratperson

[kiwisandpearls]

Astraphobia

Alhaitham x Child! Platonic! Gn! Reader (plus a bit of Kaveh)

Summary: You suffer from the fear of thunder and lightning and Alhaitham comforts you through it.

Warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns, mentions of thunder and lightning, reader being a bit emotional, Alhaitham (plus Kaveh) potentially acting OOC

As the thunderstorm raged on outside, you were curled up under Alhaitham’s bed. Your hands were clasped tightly against your ears in a futile attempt to lessen the sound of the defeating thunder outside. Tears streamed down your face as you prayed for Alhaitham and Kaveh to arrive home soon.

You had always been terrified of thunder and lightning, but Kaveh and Alhaitham didn’t know this. You had just never really seen it as significant to tell them. Sumeru in general never had many thunderstorms so it was easy to sort of hide it from them.

That was until today, the day a major thunderstorm had hit Sumeru. And during the duration of the thunderstorm all you could do was curl up under Alhaitham’s bed, holding your hands tightly over years ears, and softly cry as you prayed for them to please just come home.

In your terrified state you could not hear the sound of a door opening and footsteps as someone neared Alhaitham’s bed. You did, however, feel someone hold your arms and gently pull you out from under the bed. Your eyes shot open only to find them meet the familiar eyes of Alhaitham. He was on his knees, holding you in his lap. After a few seconds of registering that your prayers had been answered, your soft cries turned into sobs as you buried your head into his chest. You felt the vibration of his chest as he let out a soft hum.

No more than a minute later you felt someone else place a blanket around your shoulder, to which you heard Alhaithtam mutter a thank you to the person before wrapping the blanket around your body. Once the blanket had been wrapped around your body, Alhaitham again addressed the other person, asking in a hushed voice for them to start preparing your favorite drink. You heard the other person whisper, “sure” before you heard their footsteps becoming quieter and quieter. That’s must’ve been Kaveh, you think to yourself. You feel Alhaitham place his head in top of yours.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone for so long,” He whispers into your hair. All you could do was mumble something incoherent and bury your head deeper into his chest. You soon feel a wave of exhaustion hit your body as you slowly descend into sleep in Alhaitham’s arms.

Alhaitham looks down at your sleeping body, slowly petting your hair. He lets out another hum.

Perhaps I should get them a pair of earmuffs, he thinks to himself.

Well this took a bit. Fun fact, this fanfic was originally based off of my own fear of the dark but I couldn’t get to read naturally so I went w/ fear of lightning and thunder, which I kinda have. More of a fear of storms but still

[divinesolas]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Nine | Truce? Truce.

Summary | what could joffery possibly mean by a truce ? and what does rhaenrya targaryen, the queen, want with you ?

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warnings | not proofread, implied homophobia, implied internalized homophobia, jacaerys-less chapter

Word Count | 1.4k

A/n | sorry for the super late update, wasnt feeling motivated to write for this story but now i should be back to more consistent posts!!

Series Masterlist

"a truce?" its an odd question. what was he talking about?

"i have something to admit to you." he seems nervous, "i believe you are someone i can trust, this is a rather delicate situation regarding our courtship."

You tilt your head, what was he talking about? he sighs and hesitates for a few silent moments before continuing, "I promise i can offer you a peaceful and kind marriage." You nervously laugh for a second, "i would hope so ser." you stop after seeing the look on his face.

Its sad, almost as though hes expecting the worst from you. "I do not find comfort in women."

its rushed and hushed, a dirty secret not meant to be mentioned. you feel, you dont know what to feel at the news. hes sitting watching you, waiting for some reaction.

Hes waiting for you to stand and scream at him, calling him a monster or start telling him you can change him. Hes used to the thing, his mother is kind yes but she denies the truth that is right in front of her face and continues to shove finding a wife down his throat even when she had found a man in his bed.

"im sorry... for you to be saying such a thing with such sadness must mean people have treated you unkindly before. i do not have any sort of issues with it, with you of course. im sorry im not very good at these sorts of things ive never done it before." you laugh, its a nice, odd change from the once sour and sorrow mood in the room.

you watch as he begins to laugh as well except his laughter is more of one of relief. Tears begin to stream from his eyes and his once happier mood turned sour. you frown, he is a kind man and does not deserve such sadness in his life. you know how people around here feel about when a man does not have taste for a woman but it has never bothered you once before.

you move your chair to be sitting next to him and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "i am truly very sorry ser joffrey."

he shakes his head, his face dawning a smile despite his tears, "you are much too kind my lady, much too kind to be stuck with the likes of me my lady." you can barely believe his words, "you are a fine man ser joffery." he scoffs, "i am barely a man." "you won that match today i believe that is rather manly." it hurts to be reminded of jacaerys and his lose today but it must be said.

He laughs once more, "i am rather good with a sword in more ways than one." you hit his shoulder, "this is not the time for jokes." you offer him a handkerchief to which he accepts and runs it over his face. "it is always time for a jest my lady."

you roll your eyes. His looks goes back to something more serious. "i know i cannot offer you love but i can offer you my friendship and a peaceful marriage."

"why me?" its a just question, youre sure he has hundreds of other eligible ladies lining up at his doorstep, wanting to be future lady of the vale. His looks turns more thoughtful as he looks up at you and smiles, "You are easily the kindest and possess the purest of hearts of all the ladies ive meet. i could tell from the second i met you you were different. ive never met a lady quite like you."

His words cause you to flush. you know he does not mean them romantically but you have to admit it is a romantic statement. "and i see i still have my charms even with snot running down my face and wet cheeks. dont go falling for me so easily my lady."

You hit him on the arm as you turn away from him, "you are a buffon." he laughs, "im sorry my lady." you shake your head and look at him once more. you can tell he is being genuine, there's something so real about this joffery that you couldn't really see before.

As you contemplate your answer he speaks up, "i do not wish to rush you with this sort of thing. its a forever commitment and such a decision can not be made minutes after i have asked you. i am glad though it will give me more tiem to woo you with my charms."

He stands you follow and grabs his arms causing him to look at you in shock, "i can not give you my answer now. but i promise you i will genuinely consider it. i promise." he grins finally a look a true comfort and contentment comes to his face, "that is all i ask."

he walks towards the door with you slowly behind, a lingering question still in the back of your mind. He goes to greet you goodbye before you stop him, "may i ask you something?" he nods, "of course. anything my lady."

you think about how to words this, you cannot just ask him if it had anything to due with the match or the prince. "may i ask what prompted this? i mean you seemed like you planned to tell me at some point but why this early?" he looks at you like hes a little kid being caught in the kitchen stealing a dessert.

he sighs and looks down, "i feared if i hadnt done this now, you may be stolen from me." you blink rapidly, "i am not blind my lady, the prince is very obvious in his affections for you, it seems like i have a rival." he couldn't possibly mean it.

the look on your face causes him to laugh, "if you do not see such affections then you are the blind one my lady." he smiles as he opens up the door, greets belle before giving you a parting bow, "You shall see my lady. good day."

you shall see? see what? you watch his body exit your line of sight and belle quickly rushes in, closing the door behind her and letting out a sigh of relief.

you flop down onto one of the chairs. What just happened? Belle notices the look on your face and worries, “is everything alright my lady?”

you dont know how to answer. Is everything alright? you just found out the man youre in a courtship with will never truly love you, you may never get youre fairytale ending like youve always imagined.

its a hard truth. on the otherside it is probably a better match than any of the other men here. you are not naive, marriages are usually loveless with at best the husbands avoiding the wifes to take the company of another barely if ever seeing the wife and at worst, abusing the wife.

you run your hands along youre face, what were you going to do?

“I believe i am, maybe its best to pinch me to make sure i am truly awake.”

shs shakes her head, “maybe a walk instead, the best thing to cure a thoughtful mind is some fresh air.”

Shes right, behing outside relaxing in the sun feeling the aroma of the grass and flowers around you really did help you think.

You nod and stand, “youre right i shall go for a walk.” you decide you should head to see your dad. Hes always the one you go to when you need advice and hes the one you wish to see right now.

you exit the room and begin the walk to his room. your mind still chaotic from todays events, first the match with jacaerys then your interaction with him afterwards then this whole situation with joffery. You can barely breath.

You stop and put your hands on of of the open walkway rails and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You just need to breath, its not all that that bad.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.” The voice you hear shocks you causing you to turn and quickly bow, “my queen.” she waves her hand with a smile. “You are the lady dunn everyone been talking about yes?”

Your face heats, “most likely my queen.”

She laughs, “no need to act so stiff, i just came to ask you to join me for tea.”

your eyes widen, “wh-um-i- of course.”

--

Tags | @abrielletargaryen @aemondssiut @elissanatok @bubblestopia

[nightghoul381]

Flops in front of you

Hello hi

I was going to request yoshimoto but I’m not gonna make you binge his route for this little thing

Clavis.

Clavis looking after his sick fiancée who can’t sleep or talk and she’s just absolutely miserable and frustrated and emotional because lack of sleep and stuff and 😩 please 🙏

Hi loveyyy!! I hope this kinda sorta helps, it's a lot shorter than I usually write but it seemed like a good stopping point sorta, so lemme know if you need something else or more or better lol

In Sickness~Clavis Lelouch x Reader Genre: Fluffy comfort WC: 711 CW: Descriptions of pain and illness

“My oh my, what sort of emergency are you experiencing my dear? Surely it’s something quite pressing for someone as ill as yourself to be out of bed. Especially after I had just tucked you in so snugly.”

Clavis’ golden eyes were narrowed, belying his troubled smirk, and showing his genuine frustration. You had thought he wouldn’t be back for a short while, so when you found yourself feeling very thirsty but the glass beside your bed drained, you had decided to amble over to the pitcher situated on the far side of the room where a servant had just refilled it.

“I… I was…thirsty…” You squeaked out, your voice little more than a pained, scratchy hiss.

Clavis’ face softened as he pulled you close to him, guiding you gently over to the bed where he sat you down before fetching the pitcher of water and bringing it over to your bedside.

“Here you are my beautiful fiancée. Nice cool water should help ease your throat,” Clavis coos, lifting the glass to your lips.

The cool liquid provides minimal relief, but swallowing just seems to make everything feel so much worse. You clench your eyes tightly, pushing the glass away and curling in on yourself. Focusing on trying to breathe through the pain, you end up feeling a warm hand stroking your hair and your back, providing just enough pressure to soothe you and you are able to relax just enough to open your eyes again.

You let your forehead fall forward, landing roughly against your lover’s shoulder, allowing yourself to be pulled fully into his lap as his strong arms wrap firmly around you.

This illness is miserable, every part of your body aches, breathing is so difficult, and you can’t seem to get enough rest to recover even the slightest bit. But all of that pales in comparison to the stabbing pain in your throat. Breathing makes it feel like needles are pricking you, and swallowing creates the most intense burning sensation. The worst part is when you’re unable to stop coughing. Your throat feels like it’s being torn apart, unable to catch a breath and your chest aches with the force of the cough.

And yet despite all of these awful symptoms, Clavis has remained steadfastly by your side. He only stepped away when you had fallen asleep or if something urgent came up. Although, now that he’d caught you out of bed, you doubt he’d let you out of his sight again until you were feeling completely healthy.

You close your eyes as he holds you, his warm hands move up to hold your head against his chest. The calm steady beating of his heart is soothing, the warmth radiating off his body relaxing you until you’re certain you’ll end up falling asleep if you don’t move.

You pull your head free, pushing yourself to sit straight and look Clavis in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” you start, a vicious cough ripping through you and causing a pitiful cry to spill out, tears streaming down your face at the unyielding pain.

“Hush now, no apologies necessary. The only thing I want you to focus on right now is resting.”

Clavis turns you to lay you back on the bed, sliding under the covers beside you and keeping you pulled close to him.

“Not to mention, you can rest assured that I shall not get bored, I will talk for the both of us. Allow me to tell you about all of the things I want to do when you’re recovered. And after that I shall regale you with tales of my latest traps. And if you’re still awake you may just be able to catch me going off on a tangent about everything I simply adore about you.”

The depths of love and concern you can hear in your fiance’s voice is like a balm to your illness addled mind. You once again allow your eyes to flutter closed, feeling a soft kiss pressed against your forehead as Clavis begins to tell you of his plans for the two of you to travel and try out a newly invented contraption that some nobleman had come up with.

Peace overcomes you as you finally feel your consciousness drift away.

Taglist: @judejazza @themiscarnival @candied-boys @aquagirl1978 @xbalayage @maries-gallery @randonauticrap @violettduchess

[frankenkyle19]

Stories untold

Request

warnings: serious mentions of sexual abuse! Kyles mom is a monster and I’m so glad she’s dead. But really, please read at your own discretion. This hurt to write

word count: 654

When Kyle showed up at your door at 2am, drenched from the rain and crying so hard his whole body shook, you were definitely caught by surprise.

Immediately you led him inside to your couch, wrapping a blanket around him before looking him over. Was he hurt? What happened? How had he even ended up here? He obviously hadn’t driven as there was no car parked outside.

He didn’t speak for nearly 5 whole minutes as you urged him to get changed, to get into some warmer clothes so he wouldn’t get ill. He seemed to be in a haze, barely even comprehending what you were saying to him. He didn’t seem to be all there.

He had nodded when you began to undress him, helping him into his new clothes. He stopped you when you got to his boxer briefs. 

“Leave those on. Please.”

You didn’t question it. Simply just slid the dry pajama pants up his legs with a gentle smile. He was scaring you. You’d seen him cry before, but nothing like this. He looked like a mess

“I can’t stay there anymore! She did it again!” He cried, rocking back and forth as he frantically shook his head, wet blonde curls flinging rain droplets onto your couch. You couldn’t care less about that right now. You were laser focused on Kyle. And what he was talking about.

“Did you guys get into a fight? Kyle I’m sure it’s not that bad, kids fight with their parents all the time.”

“You don’t understand!” He cried out, looking up at you with the most broken expression you’d ever seen. Something really was wrong.

Carefully, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently, letting him know you were here. For him.

“She- she-“ he hiccuped and you quietly hushed him, rubbing his hand comfortingly as you waited patiently for him to speak once more.

“She does things to me, ever since my dad left.” A visible shudder ran through his body as he sucked in a shaky breath. “She touched me.” 

You felt as if your lungs had collapsed. You could barely get air into your body enough to even think. No, no she wouldn’t do that, would she? She was always so sweet to you and your friends. How could she do that to her son?

But you believed Kyle. Always. He would never lie about something as serious as this.

“Kyle you- you need to go to the police- you have to tell someone-“

I told you-“ he whispered, tears still streaming down his beautiful face. God you wished you could take away all of his pain right now. He didn’t deserve any of this. No one did.

“I don’t- I can’t do that. I can’t go to the police. Not right now. I- I can’t-“

“Then you don’t have to. It is your decision to make and I will support you either way.” You said gently before pulling him into a hug. “How long?”

Kyle made a questioning noise as he hugged you back.

“How long, Kyle?”

“Six months.”

Shit. Shit, he’d been dealing with all of this alone for that long? Your heart broke when you realized you were the only one he trusted enough to tell.

“I- I’m sorry I just- tonight was bad. Worse than usual. I couldn’t stay there.”

“Don’t you dare apologize Kyle. I’m so glad you trusted me enough to come here. Do you know how much I care about you?”

He just held you tighter, and you never ever wanted to let go of him. 

“I'm here Kyle. I'm here and I will never ever leave you. Ever.” These whispered promises gave Kyle the strength to fall asleep, the strength to wake up the next morning and the strength to keep going.

He was the strongest person you knew, but you still felt the need to protect him from the evils of this world. 

[butterfliesandblueeyes]

YOU CAN

pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

w/c : 1.5k

warnings : mentions of a gun/gunshots, mentions of blood

a/n : This is part two to 'I can't' so please go check that one out first so this one will make a lot more sense once you read it. As always, I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for the support!

Edit : For some reason this fic accidentally got posted without being edited. So I just had to private it, fix up the mistakes and add a tag.

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The sticks and rocks dug into your feet as you were pushed deeper and deeper into the woods. With your hands tied behind your back you really had no way of fighting your captors.

You wished Bucky were here. God you really wished he was here to save you. What you would do to feel his warm embrace once more. Your cheeks were freezing cold, not only from the tears that kept falling from your eyes but from the wind that whipped at your face as you kept walking. 

Your two captors were following closely behind you, instructing you where to go every few minutes. You didn’t know what they looked like. Their faces hidden behind black masks and their bodies hidden behind dark long sleeved shirts and jeans. Only their voices were the only thing you could identify them by but even then they didn’t sound familiar so you were back to square one.

“Please,” you begged as you were made to keep walking. “Why are you doing this?”

“Just shut up and kept walking. We’re almost there.” One of the captors announced. 

As you took your next step, your foot landed right on a sharp rock. You slipped, cutting the bottom of your foot in the process and tumbling over. 

“Owww fuck,” you cried out as you tried to reposition yourself on the ground. One of your captors grabbed you by the arm and dragged you up. He didn’t say a word as he pushed you forward, gesturing you to keep walking. You continued on, limping as to not put too much pressure on your cut open foot.

As you looked ahead, a cabin seemed to be getting closer and closer with each step you took. “What is this place? Where the fuck are you taking me?” you yelled as you turned around and faced your captors. “You’re just going to kill me in an abandoned place and dump my body out in the woods like I’m nothing?” Tears started streaming down your face more rapidly. 

“Keep walking,” one demanded as he completely ignored what you had just said.

“No.” You stood your ground, not moving. You weren’t just going to let these bastards take you wherever they please to do whatever they please with you. “Where’s Bucky?”

You heard a scoff before a slap landed on your cheek.

“Keep fucking moving or I’ll tell the boss you accidently died on the way there.”

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You struggled in the chair you were tied to, wriggling your arms to somehow get free from the ropes that burned around your wrists. “Help!” you yelled, hoping someone would be randomly passing by and they can save you from whatever the fuck is happening to you right now. 

The door to the cabin creaked open and you stilled in place. Too scared to move in case one of them gets angry and snaps. The men were now wearing black t shirts and you could see one of their arms covered in tattoos. 

He made his way towards you, stopping in front of you. He gripped your chin forcefully with a gloved hand. You winced in response and he started to manoeuvre your face from side to side. He seemed to be checking you out. For whatever reason you have no idea. When he let go of your chin you looked up at him, staring him down. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the other man put a mobile phone up to his ear. 

He began to whisper, you tried to listen in but to no avail. After a few minutes of this man having a hushed conversation over the phone, he stalked towards you. “Someone wants to talk to you,” he said with an evil grin on his face as he held the phone up to your ear.

“Baby.” Your heart sped up when you heard his voice. All negative thoughts and feelings disappeared when you heard his voice. Being replaced with happy memories of being safe in his arms, images of his lips on yours and his gorgeous smile flashed before your eyes.

“Bucky,” you said as you began crying. “What's going on?”

“Baby, listen to me okay,” he instructed and you sobbed in response. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you, you understand that right?”

“Yes,” you softly whispered. Of course you knew Bucky would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you but right now that was looking very unlikely. You were in the middle of nowhere, Bucky had no idea where you were. He had no way of keeping you safe at this point in time.

“You remember when we first met?” he asked, trying to get you to focus on something positive. “Remember how I bumped into you and you yelled at me. God I thought you were so mesmerising from the first moment I laid eyes on you, even when you were tearing me a new one.”

You tearfully laughed, reminiscing on the memory you’ll treasure forever. “You made me drop all my papers I worked so hard on putting into order,” you explained.

“I know baby, I know,” Bucky agreed. “I knew you were strong from the first word you said to me and that’s why I need you to keep being strong for me.” He took a deep breath. “You can do that for me, can’t you baby?”

“Bucky,” you cried. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the tattooed man pull a gun from behind his back. Your eyes widened. You screamed out in fear as to what was coming next for you.

“Baby, please be strong for me,” he pleaded.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. “I can’t, I can’t,” you chanted over and over again as you heard footsteps coming towards you. 

“You can, I know you can.” Bucky tried to reassure you but you couldn’t breathe. You could barely understand what he was saying as you started to hear static in your ear. 

“I love you Bucky,” you screamed as a gunshot went off.

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Bucky sat in the chair he was restrained to with an emotionless face. A gunshot was the last thing he heard before the phone was pulled from his ear by his wife's father Bill.

“Well now that that’s dealt with, let’s talk about where we're going to go from here,” Bill said as he hung up the phone, placing it into his pocket. “No more whores. You will remain faithful to my daughter until the day you die. Like you said in your vows.”

Bucky said nothing. He just stared ahead, not a thought daring to enter his mind. His life was over if he didn’t have you in it. 

Bill laughed. “Oh come on, get over it. She couldn’t have meant that much to you, she was only there for a warm place to fill at night.” Bucky seethed as Bill continued on talking negatively about you. If Bucky wasn’t restrained this man would be dead within seconds, no doubt about it.

“My daughter will hear about none of this, got it?” he said but it wasn't asked as a question. "Now why don’t you go to the store, pick out a nice big bunch of beautiful flowers and go home to your wife. Treat her well or we might just be in this predicament again.”

A chuckle escaped Bucky’s lips. Bill’s smirk dropped from his face, replaced by a scow. “What’s so funny?”

“You really think I’m just going to go home to your cunt of a daughter and act like everything is sunshine and fucking rainbows?” said Bucky while still chuckling.

“Well I sure as shit hope so for your sake, Buck.” Bill said as he slapped Bucky on the shoulder. “One last chance, don’t fuck it up this time.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you once again but that won’t be happening.” Bucky finished his sentence as blood splattered all over his face and suit. “Piece of shit,” Bucky spat on Bill’s now lifeless body laying on the ground.

“About time you got here, I was sick of listening to him talk.”

Steve laughed as he stood in front of Bucky, with his tattooed arms he began untying the ropes from Bucky.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Bucky asked but Steve cut him off.

“She’s fine, she’s in the car waiting for you.” He announced. Steve couldn't even properly finish his sentence before he was off running towards the black car parked outside. As you saw Bucky running outside the door to the warehouse you jumped out of the car. You ran the rest of the distance towards him. 

Bucky picked you up as he reached you. You were enveloped by his arms, the place you felt the safest. You snuggled into his chest. Breathing in his scent made tears threaten to fall over your waterline. Earlier today could’ve very well been the last time you got the chance to smell his signature smell or even breathe in the same vicinity as him.

“I told you you were strong,” he said as he rubbed your back up and down. He kissed your cheek as you hummed in agreeance. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Steve said as he made his way to the drivers side of the car. The three of you climbed into the car before Steve started it and began driving off. You were cuddled up to Bucky in the back seat of the car, drifting off to sleep from the movements of the car and because you were in Bucky's arms again.

"That piece of shit at the cabin give you a hard time?" Bucky asked Steve once he knew you were asleep.

"Nope, he never saw it coming." He responded. Bucky tsked.

"Wish he felt some sort of pain for touching my girl."

As Bucky rested his head against the headrest of the car, he peered down at your sleeping face. He always thought you were absolutely gorgeous but you were especially gorgeous when you were sleeping. How peaceful and safe you looked. He didn't understand how anyone would ever want to hurt someone like you. You're too pure for the world.

That's why when things started to get more serious between you two, he made a plan with Steve. Steve would pretend to be one of Bill's henchmen in case something like this ever happened and lucky Bucky suggested this to Steve because God knows what would've happened if Steve wasn't there.

Bucky kissed the top of your head before closing his eyes. A ghost of a smile on his lips. He will finally be happy.

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TAGS :

@vicmc624

[oceanwetroses]

As requested by @wi-2006 🩵

“Hello:>

So having in mind you write for Aizawa.

Could you please do a platonic father Aizawa in which his daughter is running late to arrive home after school and then she called him saying she is scared because someone is following her?

And then he goes to pick her up and saves her from being assaulted (this only if ypu feel comftable with it) and the aftermath.

Thanksss.”

Word count: 1.1k

Content warning(s): non-graphic mention of attempted sexual assault

Not Too Late

Aizawa moved without hesitation, reacting off pure instinct as the rational part of his brain malfunctioned. All it took was your hushed, panic-laced voice over his speaker saying you thought someone was following you for him to take off in the direction of your school. You took the same route home every day, if Aizawa followed it, he’d find you.

With undeterred motivation pushing him forward, he bustles along the path at full speed, keeping out a close eye and ear for any sign of you. Halfway to your school, Aizawa hears your voice crying out for help, for him. Rushing the scene, your bellows of panic spurring him to move faster, Aizawa finally confronts the situation that has come to a petrifying head. Bound by thick vines, you’re suspended in the air, positioned in a way that leaves Aizawa’s vision flaring red for two reasons. “Hey!” He marches forward, unfazed by whatever quirk your attacker possesses.

The man, never taking his hand off your bare thigh, whips his head around to sneer at whoever dared to interrupt him. Having assumed it was a regular civilian who desired to be a standup citizen, the predator loses all sense of confidence once confronted with the enraged Hero. Without thought or hesitation, he releases you of his binding quirk before Aizawa can even nullify it, your body dropping carelessly onto the concrete with a noticeably audible thud. The criminal winces, not out of sympathy for you, but irrefutable doubt he’s on track to experience much worse. Aizawa, allowing his primal, paternal instinct to consume him, grabs your attempted rapist by the throat, no bars held as his knuckles meet the center of the monster's face a minimum of five times before allowing his body to drop, unconscious, backwards into a heap of trash. Glass shatters as his body collides with the dark bags collected against the wall of the alley, and while Aizawa knows he should do some form of medical care as he catches crimson quickly staining pale skin, he decides to leave the trash where it lies.

Scooping you into his arms, one locked under your knees and the other wrapped around your back, Aizawa focuses on getting you home. There’s a specific procedure he should be following, off duty or not, but he can’t conjure an ounce of concern regarding protocol as he glances down at your tear-stained face. Minimal scrapes and bruises litter your visible skin, a testament to how much you fought back before your stalker resorted to using his quirk. Be it your timing or his, there’s nothing he’s more grateful for than getting there before things got worse. In his many years of work, Aizawa has done everything in his power to avoid taking the life of a villain whenever possible. He wouldn’t call himself a killer, not even with the blood that has been spilled at his hands, knowing it was the lives of countless innocents over one relentless criminal. That didn’t erase his sense of mourning he’d spent over his act, but he’d wouldn’t demonize himself for it, either. Had Aizawa been too late, his view of himself wouldn’t have changed, but the public would. He’d have been condemned, painted as a monster even in the face of facts due to the sheer ruthless brutality expended. But for you, his daughter, the light of his life- Tartarus couldn’t even scare him.

Unwilling to rush you to talk, Aizawa encourages you to take a shower and attempt to relax. While you toil in the stream of water, the single father works to make your favorite tea and snack, dedicated to having it ready before you finish in the bathroom. He has no intent of making a big deal of the earlier offense, wanting you to recover and recount the incident on your own time. His schedule for understanding the matter is on track with your openness to discussing it- living through the encounter was traumatic enough, he isn’t going to push for you to relive it. For sake of any potential witnesses, Aizawa sends a poorly detailed message to his blonde counterpart, explaining you had been attacked and Aizawa fled the scene. Hizashi, immediately, assures Aizawa that he’ll get everything handled while Aizawa manages the homestead.

That night, Aizawa speaks more softly with you than usual, as if worried his normal volume would somehow frighten you. Beyond that, he maintains an air of normalcy, doing his best to behave as if nothing was different from your day-to-day experience. That evening, you push the horror of your trip home to the back of your mind, relishing in time with your dad rather than being wracked with emotion. Neither you nor Aizawa would ignore the matter forever, he’d confront you about it the next day if you didn’t go to him first. Permitting you to stir in the mortified hellscape of your memories was something Aizawa couldn’t stomach, either. It’s not until the next morning, mind not as frazzled and body no longer adrenaline lagged, that you explain how the man had attacked you shortly after you got off the phone. Running track gave you an advantage to keep out of his clutches for a while, stamina and speed out matching his, but his quirk wasn’t an obstacle you could clear. He tripped you at first, using vines twined together into tree branch sized stalks, to knock your footing off before using a waist-high stalk to completely stop you in your tracks. It was too high to vault over, and appeared too quickly for you to duck underneath in time. Being someone he saw as prey, he never anticipated you’d be able to grapple with him the way you did, resulting in the few minor injuries you sustained. After you had clawed at his arm, drawing lines of crimson across his forearm, he restrained you. Aizawa knew the rest from there, the man having run out of time to touch you beyond running a hand up your inner thigh.

With an entire night at his disposal to contemplate your safety, Aizawa has a solution to offer following the conversation steering towards your comfort traveling to school in the future. Shinsou will walk with you every day going forward, and if he can’t do it, Midoriya will. The two will have no qualms about ensuring your safety along the route, you’d won’t have to feel guilty about “pestering” Aizawa to do it (especially since his students schedules line up to take you to your destinations with more flexibility), and he’d never have to worry about being too late ever again.

[nectardaddy]

Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 21

** Trigger Warning: blood, death, very graphic descriptions, mentions of war, ptsd, disassociation, very very dark scenarios/scenes/and imagery.

Creative liberties have been taken with minor details, but the original plot remains the same.

Eleven Years Ago

With a small breath, you wiped at your face quickly seeing as someone approached. The tears that streamed down your face did nothing but cause your cheeks to burn as you realized you couldn't stop them. Knowing the young boy who approached you, you turned your face to look away. Praying he wouldn't tease your tears, or even comment on them at all as you grit your teeth.

"Are you ok, (Y/n)?" He asked cautiously, much to your surprise. You expected the hot headed blonde to tease and make fun of you, poking fun at the black eye that was starting to form and your tears to match. And you most definitely didn't expect the boy to sit down next to you, as if to comfort you.

"I'm fine," you mumbled. Using the sleeve of your shirt to wipe more tears, you let out a breath. "Why do you care?" You bit out.

"Yikes," he commented before biting his own tongue. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back on the porch you occupied. The porch that belonged to your home that he followed you to as soon as he saw tears running down your face. You were only playing a game with friends, giggling and laughing as you played Titans, until suddenly someone took it too far. "Because you're my friend, dim wit," he scoffed.

"Go away, Porco!" You yelled, choking down more tears. You knew better than to think the boy was really here to help you feel better, you knew as soon as you saw him he was going to taunt.

"Ok, ok, sorry!" He apologized, raising his hands in surrender. "Seriously though, (Y/n), are you ok? I know that hurts." His voice was gentlier now, waving with almost worry as he put his hands down and looked over at you. "If it makes you feel better, I punched them even harder for doing that."

You felt a giggle leave your lips at his final statement, ultimately not meaning to show any emotion to him but giving in at the last second. "Good," you chuckled, feeling your tears dry up at the thought. Imagining Porco reering back and letting loose his anger on the poor soul strangely made your heart happy. Turning your head to finally face him, you dried your face one last time. "Do they look worse than me?"

"Oh, wayyyy worse," he drawled out. "Nobody gets to mess with you unless it's me," he said with a small smile. "Only I get to terrorize you." His smile pulled at his lips in such a way it jerked your heart right out of your chest. Swallowing hard as your eyes met his you kicked yourself internally for such a stupid feeling.

"Thank you," you mused. A smile pulling at your lips by seeing his own.

Present Day

Groaning at the noise around you, you shifted in your dream like state to cover your head. Thinking if you only covered your ears, the noise would stop - but it still persisted. Your body ached, every muscle and fiber screaming as you tried to move from where you laid. The noise that rustled you awake, now appeared to be voices, becoming clearer as seconds passed. Finally coming to, your eyes fluttered open and squinted at the harsh lights above you. "Shut the hell up," you croaked. "You're too loud."

A jumbled noise of chairs moving and screeching, cut off conversations, and footsteps broke your thought of ever going back to sleep. "(Y/n)," a low, hushed voice spoke as you felt a weight next to you. Swallowing hard, you snapped quickly to reality and jerked back. Because of this, your head swam violently with dizziness, and the overwhelming need to vomit washed over you.

"Get the fuck away from me," you blurted out. Your own eyes meeting hazel ones just before you leaned over, spilling your guts to the side of you in a heave. Your throat burned from bile, spitting and heaving as the overpowering feeling engulfed you. Hearing the contents of your stomach hit the ground below made you cringe, and finally reering up as the gagging passed. Blinking your watery eyes, the heaving just moments ago not helping your disposition, you looked back at the eyes from before. "Pock?"

Your eyes scanned the area around you, then back to the eyes you knew, knowing you were not where you had passed out before. The location was different and one that you had never occupied, or even seen, before. Everything down to the floor was muted shades of brown and a variety of greys, and the bed simply a rickety piece of metal. There were other beds in the room; some with layers of dust on them and others with sheets crumpled and speckled with blood much like your own. It seemed like a very much run down hostel, probably to house Eldian soldiers and Warriors alike. There was another person occupying the room: Pieck. Risen from her chair, and hands gripping at her skirt in a nervous hold, you saw her staring in your peripheral. Lips slightly open and worry swimming within her eyes.

All the man wanted to do was simply hold you, engulf you in such an embrace that he simply couldn't ever let go. But he treaded carefully through the situation, being none the wiser to what you had experienced. Your reaction to him merely sitting next to you was all it took to completely get back up, his eyes swimming with concern. "(Y/n)," he simply repeated. The man couldn't grasp at all what to say, the moment making him weak at the knees as he looked at you in worry.

"You're alive," you breathed out. All worry left in a flash upon seeing him, seemingly untouched. His healing capabilities although foolproof, took a painstaking amount of time to completely put him back together. While you didn't know this from experience, past conversions and letters from a war gone by filled you in on his disposition; you had no earthly idea how long you had been out. Your eyes traced over him, devouring every detail of the man in front you, as you thought you would never see it again. "I saw you-" you began to which he soothingly hushed.

"I know," he whispered. Feeling a pause within the room, he watched you hesitantly outstretch your hand to him. No longer bloody and dirt stained, he felt it easier to gently smile. Taking your hand within his own, he sat down beside you as well. "Pieck told me," he murmured, casting his eyes towards the floor. He felt a tension wear on him, wanting nothing more then to strip it with his bare hands, but found it too daunting as he didn't want to alarm you with his words. "You did well."

Three little words, nothing more and nothing less. Speaking to you as if you were nothing more than a comrade, an easiness in his voice that made you scowl. Your gaze casted down, no longer feeling the need from before. "Pieck told you?" You began, "and 'I did well'?" You asked, your brows furrowing in confusion and angst. A wave of emotions crashed into, and you swam desperately as to not drown. Feeling the water creep its way into your lungs made your throat burn. "I thought you were dead, and the best you can say is I did well?" Inhaling deeply, you pushed against the current of your mind.

He felt as your hand gripped his own tightly, seeing as you battled against your own mind silently. Feeling his throat close up and mouth run dry at your final words, his soft smile fell. Porco couldn't help his disposition, his brain still fending off strategic movements and soldieristic ideals. Still coming down and reeling from traumatic events, he supposed he thought better than to think you would understand. "I-" he began, to which his words fell short and he looked downward. Anger so desperately wanted to take precedent over the emotion at the forefront, not understanding why you were so short with him when all he did was try. Wanting nothing more than to gnash his teeth together and yell, he balled his other hand into a fist. "What would you like me to say, (Y/n)?" He retorted, the words leaving his tongue disgracefully and blunt.

Hearing his tone made you wince and eagerly feel the need to snap back. But a panic surfaced as you opened your mouth, closing it as the rough waters you were drowning in calmed to a still. Anger was always, since the beginning, a means to an end for him. You knew quite well what anger was for the man beside you: the only emotion he had ever felt comfortable sharing. It was as instinctual as breathing; snapping and flying off the handle was simpler than tears welling his eyes and sharing personal statements. His fists were always better at expressing than his tongue. A deep, heavily rooted cause was to blame, rather than you. "I want you to talk to me," you expressed simply. "Not your friends, not soldiers, not your superiors - me." Flashing your eyes to Pieck, the woman quietly turned around to walk out. Her fingers going to her lips to bite her nails, a nervous habit as she silently made her way out the door.

With a pause, he hung his head and relaxed his jaw. Closing his eyes, he unfurled his fist and cracked his fingers as he curled and uncurled them. Grateful that you didn't take the bait his anger left, but confused on what to say. The man was never good with words, saving his breath when it came to feelings and apologies. "I never wanted this for you, for us, for anyone," he began. "We were supposed to leave and go to them, not the other way around." His voice gained anger once more and upon catching himself, he took a breath. "You were never supposed to know what war feels like, looks like, or how much it fucks with your head." Reopening his eyes, he cast his gaze upward again to look at you once more.

"Pock, that's not-" you began, but your words were cut short.

Squeezing your hand, he shifted closer to you, "please let me finish?" He pleaded, urging you to hear him completely before speaking. Complying with a small, silent nod he continued on. "Then I heard you kill one of them and beat them senseless even after they were dead. I'm the one who's supposed to have blood on my hands - not you. You scared me," he admitted. "I scared myself, honestly," he added. Feeling a weight leave his shoulders, he continued to speak. "From the moment I had to leave you, I worried for you. And when I thought I was a goner, I thought about the promise I made you. I promised I'd stay safe, and . . . I didn't. I was reckless and vindictive, and it almost killed me."

The blonde couldn't help the tears that welled in his eyes, nor could he help grit his teeth and tighten his jaw. A juxtaposition of emotions pulled him from end to end as he wanted to scream, but wanted to lay down and cry. He did what he was told through and through, never asking questions and never second guessing. But at the end of the day all his loyalty and gumption only resulted in fatalities and false hope. Never once did he feel worthy of such an ability, but never once did he question it as it only ever ended it death. He simply turned his feelings off when the time came, only to drown to the pits of despair when he turned them back on; so he kept the dreadful memories, thoughts, and feelings locked away and lost the key years ago.

His fractured mind welded together, but only for a second, as the warmth from you engulfed him in such an embrace he thought he might be crushed. Your arms wrapping around his body easily, like pieces to a puzzle finally matching up. As he wrapped his arms around you to match, he didn't notice the tears that welled had eventually fallen. Tears running down pale cheeks as all he could do was enjoy the warmth he so eagerly missed. "I'm sorry I failed," he whispered.

"You didn't fail, Pock," you whispered in response. Leaning your head in the crook of his neck and resting on his shoulder, you took a small breath. "Do you remember when we were little, a kid punched me in the face when we were playing Titans?" You asked softly. You didn't mean for the thought to jump in your mind, though you welcomed it like an old friend.

"What?" His voice was rough from tears, and laced with confusion as he was ripped from his thoughts.

"A got a black eye from that kid," you continued despite his confusion. "You saw it happen and beat the living shit out of them. Then you came to see if I was ok, but I was crying."

"Where is this going?" He asked. Though he didn't mind the nostalgia of childhood, he thought better times other than this would be where to bring it up.

Gliding past his question, you lifted your head from his shoulder to face him. "I thought it was the most heroic thing ever that you beat that kid up for me. And I have loved you exactly how you are since that day, Porco. Every punch you've thrown, every stupid thing you've said, every piece of my life is better because you've been in it." Lifting your hand to his cheek, you gently thumbed away his tears. Smiling softly, you continued, "you could never be a failure in my eyes. And I'll remind you every single damn day if I have to."

[obixwan]

she never asked me once about the wrong I did

pairing: cody x admiral! reader

word count: 1,600ish

blurb: after a rough campaign, Cody finds comfort in someone unexpected

warnings: Minors, if you're here, go away. unspoken trauma, cody breaking down, p in v sex, bit of orgasm denial. unedited. no beta. not even proof read. we die like men.

notes: hello my loves! i'm looking for a betta reader/s. If interested, please fill out this form xx (closed now)

masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Cody’s breathing is sporadic. He drops his helmet on the floor as soon as he sees the troops refresher is empty. He started peeling off his armour and tearing off his blacks. He’s covered in bruises and blood, not sure what is his and what isn’t.

He turns the taps, unleashing a stream of hot water. Not caring if it burns his skin or not, he steps under the stream, facing the wall, forehead pressed up against the tiles. 

And this is how you find him. Barely moving, save for the struggle of his heaving shoulders trying to let his body breathe.

“Commander?” You call, not wanting to scare him. 

This shakes him out of his trance. He’s quick to step out of the stream of water, grabbing a towel to cover himself. He snaps to attention, offering you a salute, his other hand clinging to the towel. “Admiral!” He says. “If you called me over coms, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it.”

You shake your head. “I didn’t call you.” You make your way over to the changing bench and sit down, unbuckling your boots. Cody is still standing at attention, watching you with a frown. “I saw you in the mess hall. Do you want to talk about it?”

He avoids your question. “Admiral, with all due respect, what are you doing?”

You motion a hand towards the hot water, “Joining you,” you say, as if it was obvious. “If you don’t mind?”

Cody, to his credit, doesn’t blush. “The men, sir… If they come in…”

Your practiced fingers make deft work of unblocking your belt, sliding your pants down your legs. “I’m sure every trooper on this ship has seen a naked woman, Cody.”

“What about the ship?” He asks.

“What about it? It stays in space when I’m asleep, I’m sure it can handle a shower.”

You fold your uniform in a neat gray stack, and tug the towel from Cody’s waist, hanging it back up. You grab his hand, leading him back under the stream of water. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask again. 

He doesn’t look at you, he only shakes his head. 

You pick up a bar of soap and leather your own body quickly. You wash off the suds before you turn to Cody. You don’t mention the bruises or the crusted blood that’s soaked through his blacks. You don’t mention the dark circles under his brown eyes. You just soap him up, covering every inch of his body in soap. In some places you have to scrub. In some other places, you’re gentle, caressing his soft skin. You don’t mention it when he grows hard when you pay special attention to his cock. When he mutters his apologies, you hush him. 

“It’s a natural reaction, Cody.” You say, looking into his eyes. 

He looks away. “A soldier should know self control.”

“You’re not on the battlefield now. It’s okay.” You say, a hand bringing his face back to yours, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “If you want release, even as a distraction… I can give it to you.”

“I shouldn’t.” He says. “It feels disrespectful to even be here, with you.” 

You know the events of today are still running through his mind. Too many fallen soldiers, not enough dead droids. It was heavy for everyone, but heavier for Cody. You know the kind of pressure leading puts on you. You feel personally responsible for everyone under your wing. It’s too much for one person to handle alone.

“Forget about today, Cody. There’s nothing to be done, and if you did anymore than you did today, you’d be dead. The men need you. You keep them going.” You bring your arms around his waist, and melt yourself into his hard body, squeezing until he returns the hug.

“Why are you doing this, admiral?”

“I value you. I want to take care of you.”

Cody looks away again, eyes trained on the water going down the drain. “No one has ever said that to me.”

You move to duck under his gaze. “Will you let me?”

For the first time, Cody’s eyes wander, taking in your naked, wet form. His eyes roam over your face, your hair that’s been released from its usual tight, low bun, cascading over your shoulders. Your breasts, erect and perked for him. Your toned tummy, results of downtime spent at the ship's gym. The treasure hidden between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks. 

You nod. “Whatever you want.”

His hands start at your hips, wandering upwards to your breasts. His hands are rough and big in a comforting way, just like you always imagined they would be. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers softly graze over your sensitive nipples.

His hands travel downwards, towards your cunt. You spread your legs from him, a soft gasp coming from you as his fingers dance over your clit. He moans as he feels the warmth and wetness between your folds. You whimper as he slips a finger into you, then a second. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place. 

“Oh, please.” You whimper as he starts to stroke you. 

“Please, what?”

“Fuck me. I need you to fuck me, please.” You’re squirming under him, mewling and seconds away from begging. 

You have waited so long for this moment. All those meetings and briefings spend gazing at him from across the table. The first time you were assigned to the 212th, Cody offering to show you around and introduce you to everyone. Every mission you’ve spent in the air, keeping tabs on the battle below the best you could from your position. When he came in with a broken arm, but you were just so thankful he was alive you almost sobbed. When General Kenobi asked if you were okay, you had to mask it up with a sniffle, claiming you forgot your allergy medication. 

“You want my cock in your little warm cunt?” He asks, voice deeper than usual, wrapping around you. 

The idea of Cody fucking you, finally taking you as his, turns you into a whimpering mess under his watchful, intense gaze. He kisses you, once, twice, until your lips have committed the feeling of his to memory and you're coming up for air before you get too dizzy. 

“Please, Cody. Please, please.” 

He grins at you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t need to beg, I’m gonna give you what you need.” 

He peppers you neck and jaw with kisses and little nips, his stubble grazing along your skin in a way that sends shivers up your spine. Every single little kiss leaves a burning on your skin. He comes back for your lips, his kiss hungry and desperate and you moan as you feel him lining himself up, gasping when the head of his cock pushes up into you.  

“So warm, mesh’la.” He groaned between placing kisses along your shoulder. He waited until you were squirming in his arms, begging him to move before he let himself thrust deeply into you. 

You couldn’t help but gasp as you felt him hit places no one ever had, you hands flying straight to his hair, fingers tangling theirselves into his lush curls. “Oh my god, Cody,”

He started moving inside of you, a hand braced on the back of your head so you didn’t hit it too hard against the tiles, the other one held your leg up, over his shoulder.

“Feels even better than I’ve dreamt,” You moan.

Cody’s eyes bore into your own, the pretty honey shades that have pulled you in time and time again, replaced with a brown so dark his eyes are almost black. “You’ve dreamt about this, have you, pretty girl? Dreamt about becoming my own?”

“Yes, yes,” You whimper, “Everyday since I first met you, always wanted to be yours.”

He’s so pretty like this, eyes dark, lips flushed, black curls falling over his forehead, his scar standing out even more so agaisnt his skin, flushed from the sex and the hot water. 

He groans and kisses you again. He readjusts you, so both your legs are wrapped around him, bouncing you up and down on his cock. “So patient for me, my pretty little baby. I’ve dreamt about it too. Should’ve made you mine moons ago.” With his confession, you’re quick to turn into a moaning and mewling heap. You’re close and Cody knows it. “Gonna come on my cock?” 

“Please, yes Cody, please.”

“Not until I gave you the word, hmm?”

You nod, whimpering again but this only spurs him on, slowing down his pace, drawing out his trusts long and deep. God, you were seeing stars, the coil in your lower tummy tightening and tightening until you couldn’t take it, pleading with Cody to let you cum. 

“Not yet, love.” He said, picking up his pace. 

Your back arched against the tiles, pressing your tits into Cody’s chest. He pumps himself in and out, in pout, drawing almost completely out of you and slamming back in with a force so violent, you’re so sure you won’t be able to walk ever again. 

You’re about to beg again when he slams into you one more time, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “Come on my cock, pretty girl.” He says and you do so with a cry. He rides out his own organism with you, ducking you through your high until you’re squirming to get away from the overstimulation and his own legs are shaking.

There are no words spoken as he sets you down on your feet, holding you up until he’s confident you won’t just collapse to the ground. There are no words spoken as you wash and dry off. No words are needed. You are his and he is yours. 

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

[inkykeiji]

i have the warmth of the sun within me tonight

characters: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut n fluff

notes: this piece was written with someone specific in mind, but i wanted to share it here, too!! this is, by far, the healthiest and most wholesome piece i’ve ever posted on my blog ehehe | title cred: the warmth of the sun by the beach boys

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is extremely scared of thunderstorms, v romantic, shower sex, minimal prep, slight size difference/size kink

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

It’s dark. It’s so dark it almost looks like night despite the fact that it’s only late afternoon, heavy bloated clouds—charcoal and fluffy and overstuffed with raindrops—obscuring the safety of comforting golden rays from the entire city.

The torrential downpour feels endless, and for a brief second you’re terrified it truly may never stop, streets below having flooded with the rain, cars slowly wading through them, tires spraying out streams of water as they do.

Magnificent strikes of lightning crack through the dreary sky like thick roots snaking through the foggy canopy of smoke and steel, momentarily tainting them in shades of periwinkle and lavender and casting flashes of brilliant silver light across the skyscrapers and condominiums.

Their sudden presence makes you jolt, a rapid shudder working its way through your entire body, skin pebbling with chills in its wake.

But it isn’t the lightning that bothers you—not really, anyway.

It’s what comes after.

Rumbles of thunder so loud, so violent they cause the glass windows of Keigo’s apartment to quiver and the hardwood beneath your feet to tremble, roll through the sky, and you swear you can see the clouds ripple from the force.

Arms squeezing tighter around your body, your fingers curl in the material of your—his—hoodie, desperately attempting to resist the urge to grab your phone, to frantically scroll through social media as worried eyes scan for any mention of his name, for shreds of dreadful news, for things you never want to hear.

You hate it when he has to work in storms such as these. And you know, you know you shouldn’t be watching the sky, shouldn’t be searching the splotches of gunmetal adorning the atmosphere for a glimmer of scarlet and gold, shouldn’t be standing so close to the pristine glass windows that your uneven puffs of nervous breath cloud them, tiny blankets of condensation left by the hot air you exhale fleetingly staining the surface, evaporating into nothing just as quickly as they appear.

But you can’t help it. It’s a compulsion, almost—like some sort of sick obsession, some sort of twisted addiction you can’t control. Because—Because you have to know, unable to stand that feeling of uncertainty that gnaws away at your insides, incapable of handling the ambiguity and vagueness that comes packaged with the not knowing. You have to at least try—try to do everything in your power to stay informed, and if that means facing a vicious thunderstorm head on, with your cheek pressed against the cold glass as your gaze searches the tumultuous sky, then so be it.

You can brave it for him. You swear you can.

“Baby,” he scolds gently, his sudden presence surprising you, causing you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Topaz eyes observe you, overflowing with concern, pretty bowed lips turning down, soaked strands of gold hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. “How many times have I told you not to do this?” And although he’s reprimanding you, his voice is sweet, smooth and syrupy like the finest honey. “You know how much thunder freaks you out,”

You scoff, stiffening almost defensively as you turn your nose up a little, still avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t freak me out,”

“Oh?” he laughs a little as he kicks off his boots, tension easing from his shoulders with every step towards you, every step further into the warm sanctuary of your shared home, wet sock-clad feet slapping against the hardwood and leaving gleaming footprints.

“Kei,” you whine a little, gesturing his dripping body. “You’re getting water everywhere,”

“Hey now,” a playful smirk spreads across his lips, and a sudden, sharp whoosh slices through the air as his wings spread, spanning nearly half the living room. He gives them one good, thorough shake, crimson feathers trembling and sending tiny droplets of water flying. “I wasn’t done,” he speaks over your squeal of his name, smirk growing into that trademark mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t just stand at the window and stare up at the sky—it only scares you more,”

“I’m not scared,”

Vicious growls of thunder roil through the sky before you’re even finished speaking, almost as if it’s laughing at you, mocking you, your body flinching as the sounds crash over you, curling in on yourself a little, face puckered up in a wince as your words stutter, catching on a gasp in your throat.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Keigo holds his arms open wide, wings still stretched to span them. “Yeah, right. C’mere,” When you don’t begin moving immediately, he sighs again, strong hands gently pulling you towards him.

Your body melts into his touch—an automatic and involuntary reaction, almost instinctual at this point—and you slump against his damp chest, nuzzling your cheek against the firm muscles.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, arms wrapping around your body as he holds you tightly to his, voice reverberating against your ear. “The Big Bad Scary Thunder can’t get you here,”

Eyes rolling, you scoff at his playful teasing, a tiny smile materializing on your face as you pull away a little to look up at him, greeted with the sight of brilliant eyes—made of sunshine and liquid gold, you’re absolutely sure of it—gazing down at you, lips quirked in a cute little smirk.

His beauty never fails to knock the breath from your chest—it seems you can never be prepared for it; no matter how many times you’ve seen him, how many times you’ve been close enough to count the individual eyelashes lining those orbs, how many times you’ve been close enough to feel the inviting tickle of the short golden hairs decorating his chin—and you’re not sure you’ll never get used to it, either.

A peculiar mix of adoration and concern swirl in his honey irises, though you can see the mirth and amusement dancing just beyond that, thinly veiled by the love and worry.

“Oh, shut up—” another bang of thunder fissures through the sky, so raucous it makes the thick clouds waver and swell, your words morphing into a fearful little squeak, quickly burying your head back against the safety of his chest.

Fingers curl in the wet suede and you hug yourself closer to him, tugging him closer to you, body beginning to shudder.

He’s hushing you now, arms and wings curled around you in a defensive embrace as words of comfort pry past his lips, tender voice sheathing the armor of crimson surrounding you.

“At least they aren’t as bad as the ones back home, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you mumble, unconvinced, eyebrows knitted and mouth sculpted into a deep pout. “I still don’t like them, though,”

“I know, I know,” a warm hand rubs soothing circles into your back, voice only marginally louder than the next bout of thunder as it vibrates against your face, another quiet yelp clawing its way up your throat. “Shh, you’re safe, you’re safe,”

“Kei,”

The nickname escapes in a mangled little whimper, and you can feel it—fright, terror, dread—building in your chest, a strangling type of panic that weaves and winds itself around your windpipe and crushes; because they’re getting worse, they’re getting closer, growls and grumbles following the flashes of lightning almost immediately, roaring loud enough to quake buildings, your heart thudding so violently it’s almost painful. Tears sting your eyes, and you shake your head against him, as if trying to burrow into his chest, to carve out a little space in his ribcage, right next to his steadily beating heart, and live there.

“I-I take it back, they are as bad as the ones back home,”

Or, at least, this one is

Keigo doesn’t argue, all traces of amusement evaporated from his face, replaced by trepidation that mixes with his worry and pinches his features, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he cradles you against him. Ferocious tremors course through your form, chest beginning to hitch with swallowed sobs, and he squeezes you.

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

“Okay, alright,” he’s saying as he rocks you gently, crimson wings wrapped entirely around you both, shielding you from the storm. The scent of freshly mown grass and sticky vanilla ice cream is nearly overwhelming as it washes over your senses, invading your lungs and smothering you in its embrace. It’s a welcomed feeling, the beautiful suffocation it affords you with, vibrant bursts of heat rushing through your veins, whole body flooded and thrumming with a deep-seated comfort—a special type of solace, of reassurance, of contentment unique to him, unfathomable and mystifying on all accounts, that soothes your frayed nerves and calms your irregular heart—because he smells like home; not your home halfway across the world, your real home, your forever home.

“Come,” he instructs a moment later, stern yet tender, keeping an arm draped firmly around your shoulders, one of his wings curving around the limb as he leads you away from the window, scarlet feathers obstructing your vision.

—

The bathroom—comprised of gleaming marble and shining chrome—is enormous, housing a mammoth glass shower that spans the length of the furthest wall, large enough to more-than-comfortably accommodate his wings, and then some.

Steam fogs the glass, and a soft hiss slips from between your teeth as he cages you between his chiseled body and the freezing marble, cold rock stinging your already heated skin, his wings spreading to mimic his arms, providing another layer of protection and entirely immersing you in him.

It’s your favourite when he does this, when he engulfs you in his grasp and creates a tiny universe where it’s just the two of you, whole world having fallen away outside of the barricade his thick wings offer—and you’ve never felt safer.

And it’s amazing, you’re thinking to yourself—or maybe you’re murmuring it, lips moving in a daze—it’s amazing how even after all of the rainwater pouring from the sky, all of the zipping through those dense clouds, all of the vicious wind that whips against him as he soars; none of it could ever manage to wash away, to ever dull, his intoxicating scent, not even for a second.

You’re completely overcome by him, vanquished by his enamoring eyes and his saccharine smile—drunk and high off of it all, addicted to him in the sweetest way—and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

But you’re leaning into him, closer and closer and closer, lips parted as you inhale deeply, filling your lungs, your chest, your heart and veins and blood with his aura, his essence, him. He conquers you, intoxicates you, poisons you in such a beautiful way, and you’re enchanted by it, yearning for more, a greedy and insatiable craving that will never be fulfilled.

And he knows it. He knows the effect he has on you by merely existing near you—his cocky smirk and dazzling gaze tell you so.

But then his eyes soften, glazing over with something else, lidded as they slowly travel across your body bared to him, and his mouth falls open only for his tongue to suck his bottom lip between his teeth, and his fingers reach to trace your features, the curve of your cheek and line of your jaw, the most gentle caress.

“You…Are breathtaking,”

And he really does sound out of breath, as if he’s in awe from your beauty, as if this is his first time seeing you, as if you’re some sort of goddess, having descended right in front of him, and it forces chills to erupt across your bare skin—damp and splattered with tiny droplets of water that gleam like morning dew clinging to grass—despite how boiling it is between him and the steam from the shower.

It’s a feeling you can’t quite explain, a feeling you’ve never really been able to find the appropriate words for, something that makes you feel simultaneously powerful and weak, a swirling concoction of contradictions that invade your bloodstream and travel straight to your brain, infusing the tissues with the potent mix and sending tiny sparks buzzing through your veins, collecting to flutter together in the pit of your stomach.

He kisses you slowly, tonight. He kisses you like it’s his last day to live, kisses you like it’s his first time, unhurried tongue deliberately exploring the concavities of your mouth—every nook and ridge and crevice—as if committing them to memory, as if attempting to leave his stamp, his mark, his claim, on the real estate there.

He kisses you until neither of you can breathe, lungs shriveling as your chests heave, exhaling into each other’s mouths only to suck breath from each other’s mouths a moment later. He kisses you until you’re dizzy from the lack of air and he’s burning and hard and pressed up against your thigh, leaking head rubbing against the supple skin, leaving the prettiest gleaming trails of cream. He kisses you until you’ve gone stupid from his spit alone, fervent in the way you swallow it greedily, in the way you attempt to suck, slurp, steal more from him as it surges to your brain, tissues and nerves vaporizing into nothing more than a dazed mist, spiked with him.

The kiss breaks with a sharp whoosh of air, his lids lifting to reveal glassy pupils outlined with the thinnest ring of amber. Your tongue darts out from your mouth to lick and lap at the stringy, viscous remnants coating your chin; starved, ravenous, and forever unsated.

The chuckle huffed out from between swollen, saliva-soaked lips is nothing short of sinful, makes your vision blur and your stomach swoop, a murmured tease following it.

“Eager, aren’t you,”

And you want to point out that you weren’t the one practically humping someone’s hip, but the words tangle in your throat, catching on a gasp as nimble fingers slip between the apex of your thighs, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat.

“Fuck,” his head falls forward, face buried in your neck, and sucks an inhale through his teeth. “How are you already this wet?”

He’s nearly whining as he dips two fingers into you, soft little sounds that fall from his lips and sop into your skin, his breath scorching—sizzling more than the steam in the shower—against your neck.

And those fingers, now plunging into you, knuckles curling the moment they’re deep enough to press moans from your chest and cries from your throat, feel so familiar as they stretch you open—the same fingers that pet your hair and brush away your tears and feed you pieces of fried chicken; they feel like home.

Yet as comforting as that is, as much as it has your chest swelling with something so large, so dense you’re terrified your ribs may shatter and splinter under the strain, they aren’t enough. Not right now, not today.

Because even with the water hitting the tiles and the exquisite symphony of his pants and your mewls, you can still hear it, menacing blasts encroaching on you, deep and heavy and threatening to split the little world Keigo has created, the small haven his wings and arms provide.

“Please, please, Kei,” you’re nearly wailing out, forcing bleary eyes to open, belated in the way they find his gaze. “I-I want you, I need you,”

“Sweetheart,” he starts—and you know that tone, stitched together with hesitation and concern and embellished with thin ribbons of patronization. “You know you can’t take me without being opened up at least a lil’ first,”

Another clap of thunder rattles the apartment, sounding as if it’s just outside the bathroom door, ranting and raging to get in, and both of your hands claw at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as words bubble past your lips, high and terrified and desperate.

“No, Kei, not tonight. Please, baby, please, I need you now, right now, Kei, right now, pl-please,” and you’re nearly choking on the pleads as they barrel up your throat and out your mouth, all garbled together and stuffed with spit. “I can handle it, promise,”

A hoarse whine hitches in his throat, the worried knitting of his eyebrows carving creases into his forehead. With pinched features and a scrunched face, it looks almost as if he’s in pain; like it’s pure agony to deny you. And you can see it, can see the internal struggle reflected in his eyes, stare wrought with the tug and pull between desire and care. But that need is growing, spreading, curling around your organs in a tight embrace, suffocating you with its urgency.

A final please, Keigo, croaked out in a broken whimper and thick with the threat of tears, is what breaks him, shatters his resolve to a fine dust and whisks it away in one breath.

“Alright,” he’s murmuring, though his voice is strained, tense and gruff under the combined paradoxical weight of lust and apprehension. “Alright, hush now, I’ve got you,”

Then he’s hoisting you up, and your legs are wrapping around his waist, one hand clutching the top of the glass door, the other digging bruises into his neck as he buries his cock inside of you in one swift movement, a set of relieved gasps escaping you both.

It stings a little, sharp pinpricks shooting through your gut as his thick cock stretches you open, but they’re chased promptly by thorns of pleasure that dissipate the pain.

Because he feels so good, and you feel so full, and everything feels so perfect like this—everything feels right again.

But a boom of thunder explodes through this moment, blowing it to bits and pieces, and you reflexively jump, whole body flinching in his arms.

“Shh,” he’s whispering to you as he pulls you closer, chest pressed flush against yours. “Don’t worry, songbird, I’m gonna make it better, alright? Just focus on me,”

And so you do, eyes slipping shut as his hips begin to pump—slow at first, almost languid in the way they roll forward, each thrust thorough, cock nearly entirely unsheathed before it plunges back in, the head nudging your cervix, and you revel in the delicious cracks rasps—of your name, of curses, and praises—that fall from his lips with each rut.

“S’deep,” you mumble, words already jumbled from the carnal bliss, from the hedonistic decadence that surrounds you, emanating off him and percolating into you, instantly diffusing the tension and panic knotted like thick vines in your chest—even though he’s barely fucking done anything. “S’deep, Kei,”

“Yeah?” the word fans across your face, sweet and fragrant, hazy eyes opening to be met with glittering gold, strands of honeysuckle hair stuck to his forehead and temples, framing the dark gaze watching you, pupils almost voracious in the way they soak up your expressions, almost greedy in the way they scan your face as his hips move, looking for more. His forehead knocks against yours, penetrating stare boring into your face. “Good? My baby like it?”

“So good,” your head nods in small movements with the whimpered affirmation, bumping against his. It’s already beginning to build, smoldering deep in the pit of your stomach, the spark that had been dulled when you had begged him to stop, begged him to give you more—to stretch and fill and form you like your insides were made for him—reigniting, bright and scalding.

“More, please,”

It just slips from your lips, brain already beginning to melt as you allow yourself to be submerged, swallowed and consumed by him; an innate desire that swamps your mind and floods your senses, and you want it all.

But he complies without complaint this time, void of the usual teasing remarks and requests that you beg for it, because he can see how depleted, how drained you are, utterly exhausted from the terror of the storm, his understanding evident in a gentle confirmation tumbling from his lips.

And his groans and grunts are so beautiful, vibrating deep in the recesses of his chest, louder than any thunder as they rumble in your ears. You find solace in them, gulping them in as he pushes them out, letting them vibrate down the column of your throat and collect deep in your belly, kindling with the flickering embers that burn and glow and multiply with each thrust, furling together in a tense ball of churning heat.

The canting of his hips increases, faster and faster and faster with each rock forward, the escalating force resulting in your body to rubbing against the marble and glass, tightly curled fingers readjusting themselves, slipping a little from the foggy condensation coating the surface.

You don’t even realize that your sensitive skin’s been rubbed raw from the action, too tangled up in his noises, his pleasure, his cock, to notice, too tangled up in him to care at all.

“Here,” Keigo pants out, hips suddenly stilling. A low whine catches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, a breathless snicker escaping his parted lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he’s telling you as strong arms readjust you, folded wings suddenly spanning, a gentle gust of air bathing your slick body in little goosebumps, before they wrap around him—around you—sheltering you from the glass and marble as they swoop under your ass and thighs, aiding Keigo in supporting your weight. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,”

And it’s so much hotter like this, so much more intimate like this, uneven puffs of breath mingling as his forehead rests against yours, florescent lights reflecting off of his thick feathers and tinting everything—his skin, his eyes, his hair—scarlet.

The sudden snap of his hips startles a moan out of you, and he laughs again, carmine-tinged topaz eyes positively glowing. And he looks so gorgeous like this, looks like a fucking god like this, those fine gold hairs that cover his body catching in the soft light and shimmering.

He’s kissing, licking, nipping anywhere he can reach, stamping your flesh with physical manifestations of his love, pace never faltering as skilled, powerful hips continue to pound into you, cockhead dragging against that spot with every buck.

Your legs flex around his waist, muscles coiling as the sphere roiling in your stomach blazes, curled into a concentrated ball of fire. The heat it exudes is nearly unbearable now, heavy as it sinks into your gut, glowing orb spiraling as it coils, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” Keigo nearly keens, almost as if he’s begging you instead of commanding, voice cutting through the dense haze your brain has evaporated into. “Can y’do that for me? Be good and cum all over my cock?”

Yes, yes, yes, your head is nodding, emitting affirmatives in the form of high little mewls with each jerk. And it only takes two more sharp pistons of his hips before the fire-filled ball bursts, half of his name escaping your throat in a fractured cry as your entire body stiffens, cunt clenching so vigorously it’s almost painful.

Words start to spill from his mouth, an endless stream of praises, sandwiched between dark groans and broken whines and hitched curses; Y’so good for me, y’know that? Ah, f-fuck—So gorgeous when you gush all over my—my cock, baby, y’feel so good, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hot, thick cum fills you suddenly, coinciding with his last choked out declaration of love, cock throbbing as it spurts rope after rope, taut stuttering hips pressed flush against your skin.

—

Everything aches as you unwind your limbs from around him, muscles sore and legs trembling as Keigo forces you to stand, propping you up against the shower wall and returning with the fluffiest towel only a moment later. Large hands pull you towards him, dragging you from under the shower head and into his arms, swaddling your shivering body in Egyptian cotton and strong arms and soft feathers.

He leaves the shower running on purpose, steady flow of water hitting the tiled floor and marbled wall, efficiently drowning out any roars or claps of thunder.

And you’re so tired, so pliant and boneless in his arms, barely able to keep your weighted eyelids from fluttering shut. He keeps you in his lap as he sits on the closed toilet, cradling you to his chest as best he can as he gently rocks you back and forth, whispering out praises—you did so well, you always look so gorgeous taking my cock—and avowals of his love, constant words oozing from his lips, sentiments cascading over your body like a stream of thick syrup.

Unconsciousness has you in its clutches, nearly slipping into the familiar embrace that promises the numbing ecstasy that comes with such an intense orgasm, until your tummy growls, and Keigo laughs.

“No, sweetheart,” he chides softly as you nuzzle into his chest, an indignant noise sounding at the back of your throat. “You have to eat at least a little before you can fall asleep,”

“Don’wanna,”

“I know,” he’s saying sympathetically as he stands, placing your feet on the floor a moment later. You wobble a little, eyes still shut, and he chuckles again, murmuring to himself about how fucking cute you are as he begins to dress you, tugging soft fleece that reeks of him over your head.

—

The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time you’ve been clothed and fed, constant and leaking from the clouds overhead as you snuggle against Keigo in the plush sanctuary of your shared bed, tummy full and happy with roasted chicken and sauteed veggies. A deep contentment settles itself in your bones, weaving itself around the ivory in a protective glaze and imbuing you with a sense of calm, a sense of relaxation, a sense of relief, and you hum, Keigo’s lithe fingers trailing up your spine absentmindedly.

If you’re being honest, you’re not quite sure how he did it, how he slipped, slithered, seeped through the few cracks in your defence without being violent, without being forceful—how he tore down all of the barricades and shields you had built around yourself, hardened and firm from several years of paranoia and distrust, from the perpetual fear of being hurt again. It should scare you, really, how quickly he did it, how easily and inconspicuously he did it. But it doesn’t.

It doesn’t, because he did it with love; stripping those protective walls with genuity and sincerity, dismantling every brick and stone with gentle touches and soft kisses and tender words. He did it with respect, with patience, with passion and affection and devotion.

So it doesn’t, because there’s nothing to fear—because you’ve never felt more safe in your life, here enveloped by his strong arms and cozy wings, resting on his chest, legs tangled in knots together.

And as you drift off to the gentle pat-pat-pat of the raindrops against the windowpane and the steady thumping of Keigo’s heart echoing in your ears, you realize he’s your very own ray of sunshine, forever present to keep those menacing clouds and malicious thunder away, even in the strongest, the harshest, and the scariest of storms.

[vinvantae]

ᴛᴡɪɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ

Part 6/25

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Rating - Mature

Warnings - Mentions of sex, alcohol, swearing

**************

The sun streamed through a gap in the blinds and across your face, the warm glow on your skin waking you up. You covered your eyes with your hand to block it out - your head was pounding and as you sat up, all the memories from last night came flooding back.

“Fuck.”

Lando was still out cold, his lips parted as he slept. What a pretty picture that boy was; hair all tousled from a good night's sleep, a soft flush on his cheeks. You smiled softly, you were so grateful for him. He was a good friend… probably your only friend at this point. With a sigh, you slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

You looked like you hadn’t slept in years, the bags under your eyes felt more like suitcases. You splashed your face with water and sighed deeply. What was going to happen with Dan? Pierre had told him you were in love with him and you hadn’t denied it… yours and Dan’s friendship’s biggest fault was you were terrible at communicating how you were feeling. For your entire lives, you both just ignored problems until they went away but this time..? It wasn’t going to be so simple.

“Hey y/n?” A sleepy Lando yawned, as he stepped into the bathroom. You’d always thought he was a handsome boy, and seeing him standing in front of you looking all sleepy and cute was definitely a bonus. But you didn’t feel anything more for him, thank god. “Can I have a shower before we go?”

“Yeah of course. Thank you for last night, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I was alone.”

“Anything. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning” he kissed the top of your head before shooing you from the room. “Now go make yourself decent. I imagine you’ve got some team meetings to go to before practice. And drink plenty of water in little sips.”

“Look at you being mister responsible.”

“Someone’s gotta be.” He chuckled, shutting the door behind you as you left. You walked over to your suitcase and opened it up, grabbing some comfy shorts and a t-shirt - it was nice and warm out today. Not quite Australia heat but just what you needed to recover from the night.

As you pulled the clean shirt on, there was a light knock at your hotel room door. With a furrowed brow, you walked over and opened it up.

My god.

“D-Dan…” You were lost for words as he stood in front of you, he looked as rough as you did. He lightly scratched at his stubble as he studied you. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I uh… what happened last night?”

He didn’t remember. The memory of Pierre’s words weren’t buzzing around his brain like yours. Did he remember your kiss? The way your body felt against his? You shook your head a little.

“You don’t remember?” Your voice was hushed, almost afraid to make eye contact, in case it reminded him.

“I remember kissing you” he stepped closer, you could almost feel his warmth against you. God, you wanted to kiss him again. His eyes met yours for the first time, there was something in them you didn’t recognise “…and then it goes blank. That’s why I’m here, we really need to-“

“Hey y/n, do you remember where I put my shirt?”

Oh no. You looked over your shoulder to see Lando, in only a towel slung low around his hips, exiting the steamy bathroom. This wasn’t good. All Dan knows is you kissed him and now Lando is naked in your hotel room. You cautiously spared a glance back at Dan; his jaw was clenched and his grip on the doorframe so tight his knuckles had gone ghostly white.

“Dan, let me explain-“

“No. I can’t… I can’t do this right now, y/n.” He held his hand up to cut you off. He looked you in the eyes, the amber looked dull, hurt. Whatever was in them before wasn’t there now and it broke your heart.

“Please.”

He simply shook his head and pushed away from the doorframe, running a hand over his face as he walked down the corridor. A tear rolled down your cheek. You thought you’d got away with last night but seeing you with Lando was just as bad, if not worse.

“…I’m sorry.”

You shut the door. “No no… it’s my fault. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I’ll talk to him. He can’t run away from me when we work together… I’ll explain it to him. I won’t tell him about Pierre but I can easily explain away that I just stayed over because you were drunk and I was worried about you.”

“You’re a little star aren’t you.”

“I try.”

You finished getting dressed and pulled a cap on before you and Lando head downstairs, bumping into Max in the elevator. He quirked his brow at you. “Oh, hello…”

“He just made sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit last night.” You explained, both of you stepping in. “…Dan came over this morning.”

“Oh!” His eyes flickered between the two of you. “…oh.”

“Yeah. He thinks Lando and I fucked last night, he walked off before I could really explain anything.”

“Fucking hell. Today is gonna be interesting” the Dutchman whistled, pulling his phone out of his pocket - obviously to text Dan. “I did ask him about last night… he said after you kissed-“

“That he didn’t remember anything. So he didn’t know that Pierre said… what he said…”

“Y/n, mate.” Lando spoke up, his voice soft. “Is it true? Do… Do you love Dan?”

Did you? Love was a very strong word. You’d grown up with him, he was your best friend in the entire world and despite your growing apart there was no one who understood you like he did. Your Mums always joked that you two were meant to be, that you were each other’s Twin Flame. Two parts of the same soul. But back then, you’d always thought that it was just friendship.

When you were 4, he held your hand for the first time - no other hand had fit the same since. When you were 11, he kissed you for the first time and no kiss had compared since. When you had sex with him for the first time, you were 21, and you realised that sex could actually be good. It wasn’t over in 5 minutes. You were both drunk out of your minds but he’d spent so much time making sure that you felt good. No other man has made you feel the same since… that was all just physical.

But, no one made you feel like he did either; no one gave you the butterflies… no one lit a fire in you like him… fuck. You were in love with Dan.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?” Your eyes snapped to the sound of the voice, Max and Lando had stepped out of the elevator and were just waiting for you. “Sorry… lost in thought.”

“So, do you?” Lando asked again, as you caught up with them.

“Either of you tell him, and I’ll kill you.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Both of them stared at you expectantly - here you were, hungover as fuck, with Dan’s two best friends on the grid, asking if you were in love with him. “Yes.”

The two men exchanged a knowing look but stayed silent. You were expecting more of a reaction than that, you’d finally admitted after years that you were in love with Dan and they were just… looking at each other?

“What was that?” You asked, quirking a brow at them both.

“What was what?” Max asked innocently, opening the door of the car for you.

“That look.” You quizzed, sitting in the middle of the back, your fellow drivers squishing in either side of you as Kelly sat in the front on her phone, completely oblivious. “What do you know?”

“I think you need to talk to Dan.” The Dutchman said, sipping his drink, looking at Lando instead of you, almost like they were having some telepathic conversation.

“Lando was just naked in my hotel room. He doesn’t want to talk to me, Max.”

“We can talk to him first. Why don’t you two ever talk about anything?”

“Because we’ve never had any big issues before, they always ironed themselves out and now neither of us know how to talk about the serious stuff.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “Like even when we fell out as kids, we never talked about it. Whoever was in the wrong just hugged the other, said sorry and we moved on.”

“Maybe you should just do that then.” Lando chuckled.

“Don’t think that’s quite gonna work considering the circumstances… none of this would’ve happened if he’d just talked to me about why me taking the Redbull seat bothered him so much.”

The other two stayed quiet this time, the soft music filling your ears. Your head rolled back against the headrest and you closed your eyes for a moment, thinking about this year. From getting the call to come for a meeting with Christian… to signing your contract… to getting your first podium… was it all worth it since you lost Dan? Sure, it all felt good but not having him to share it with, made everything feel not quite right.

You didn’t have time to sort it now; it was race weekend again. It was practice, qualifying, race - no down time. You wanted to get the 1-2 finish your team wanted so badly; they hadn’t won the championship since 2013 and this was the year. Max was gonna win, the team was gonna win. You were okay with you not getting the title this year, this was the Dutchman’s year - you’d love to win a race or two but you really wanted to see Max win this.

Your wishes were granted once again in Italy; another good qualifying for the team - you second, Max third. Lewis had beat you to pole position by 0.03 seconds, it was so close. And before you knew it, it was time to race.

You walked up the track towards your car, letting your eyes fall on the papaya car - Daniel sat in the cockpit, eyes on the road. “Good luck today, Dan.”

“Thanks.”

Okay, still not over it. You knew how well he drove when he was angry; perhaps he was channeling everything he felt about you right now into his drive. Your team led you over to your car, ready to do the formation lap. Fine. You weren’t going to let your feelings control your race like him - you needed to focus, if all you did was think about Dan you’d lose the race.

Before you knew it, it was time to race. The track in front of you was clear… you were ready to race.

Lights out and away we go!

Your start was good, better than Lewis’ - you easily slipped past the Mercedes’ driver on the first corner, Max not far behind. Let’s fucking go.

The race was over in a blur… you couldn’t believe it, 2nd place. The team had messed up your pit stop a little, so you lost the position to Max but you still managed to keep Lewis behind you - in fact, your favourite Brit had also managed to sneak through, so you were sharing the podium with Max and Lando and it felt good.

Lando ran over to you and gave you a double high five before Max hugged you tight. Dan didn’t utter a word to you as he congratulated the other two drivers. You couldn’t see his face as unlike you, he still kept his helmet on - so you didn’t know if he even looked at you.

Fuck him. This was your moment. The three of you head upstairs and you collect your next Pirelli hat - popping it on your head.

“2nd looks good on you.” Lando smiled softly, his own cap on his head.

“I’m glad I’m here with you two.”

Your collection of trophies grew slowly over the next couple of weeks, you felt the team’s confidence in you growing. But as your connection with the team grew, you only felt Dan pulling further and further away - you’d tried to talk to him but there was always an excuse, or you were just ignored completely.

And now were in Monaco. Beautiful, expensive Monaco. You’d always wanted to do a race in an F1 car here, street races like this had risks that no other track had. This place was almost like a second home to you; you’d spent many a month here with Dan during the downtime so you felt comfortable. But this time you were staying in a hotel; not the apartment you’d grown to love so much.

Sure; Redbull had spared no expense and you were in a gorgeous room but Dan’s flat had all your stuff in it. Your snacks. Your clothes. Your video games. So this time you actually had to pack for your trip here and it didn’t feel right. Who knows if he even kept your stuff in there; he might have binned it all as soon as he showed up.

You kept your head down for most of the weekend, just pumping out the results that your team expected from you during practice and qualifying. A couple of the boys invited you out to join them for the now traditional sunset juice session before the race tomorrow. It was nice to still feel part of the group even though you and Dan had grown apart. Lando said he and Dan had talked it out but he still wasn’t ready to talk to you; the Brit said he wouldn’t explain his reasons and when Dan was ready he’d tell you himself. You’d just tried to focus on the friendships you still had; Lando, George, Charles and Carlos were always down for a nice chat or hanging out with you. Pierre was still distant - you’d both really hurt each other and neither of you knew how to fix it.

“Is this not the best place in the entire world?” Charles said, taking in a deep breath of the ocean air, a smile on his face. “The sun here feels so much better on my skin than the sun anywhere else.”

“Mhmm I don’t know, the Australian sun is something special too.” You chuckled softly, leaning back against your lounger. Charles had taken you all out on his yacht to watch the sunset. “I do have to admit a Monaco sunset is a very unique thing.”

George squashed his long form onto the lounger beside you, draping his arm over the back of the chair. “Actually, the sun in England is the best because it’s a rare treat.”

“Ah Georgie, you got me there.” You chuckled, pinching him in the side. Carlos handed you some orange juice. “What are we toasting to tonight, boys?”

“Hmm… to the top 5 finishers on the grid tomorrow!”

You laughed. “To us!”

“Did everyone forget I’m not actually racing tomorrow? Crashed my car into the wall, remember?” The Monegasque chimed in, blushing a little.

“Fine, fine.” Carlos said. “Top four finishers tomorrow and our fastest qualifier!”

“Cheers!”

You all tapped your glasses together and sat in a comfortable quiet to watch the sun fall behind the ocean. Watching sunsets with your friends was one of the only places you truly felt calm these days; one day you hoped to do it with the entire grid. Surrounded by the 19 people who understood you better than anyone else. But for now, you needed to focus up for the race tomorrow; you’d qualified front row with Max and were ready to fight to get yet another 1-2 for the team. The track had so many twists and turns and the roads were tight. Overtaking was difficult and that’s what the team was banking on, if you could keep Lewis behind you then it would be an easy win. Round 5, let’s go.

The first few laps were the most difficult; with everyone all bunched together around the tight corners, it was almost asking for collisions. Thankfully the team was dominating the race; Mercedes having to withdraw Bottas when his wheel got stuck to the car - leaving Max’s race wide open. It was just up to you to keep Lewis behind.

‘It’s so close. Y/n has been blocking Lewis for nearly the whole race and he’s desperate to get past. He can’t let Max win again, the Dutchman is starting to pull away in the Championship battle.’

‘That’s right, any opportunity he has he’s gonna try and squeeze through’

‘Here he is trying again to take the outside-‘

‘There’s been a collision! Lewis shut the door on her and y/n has flipped!’

‘We haven’t seen an incident like this in Monaco since ‘86!’

‘She had the right to the inside line but his desperation got the best of him - the contact pushed her into the wall and over the top of his car.’

‘Hang on a sec we’ve got something interesting on the McLaren radio’

‘Yellow flag Daniel, one of the Redbulls has flipped’

‘What the fuck. Who is it? Tell me’

‘Don’t panic, it’s y/n’

‘Is she okay? Has she got out?’

``We're unable to say right now.’

‘What’s this? Daniel Ricciardo is pulling over next to the crash site! I can’t believe it! He’s losing all of his places!’

‘He was already out of the points and still stood a chance but now he’s dropped right down to the back of the pack’

‘He’s out of the car, repeat he’s out of the car and trying to help the marshals to get y/n out. The angle of the car has made it hard for her to get out alone.’

‘They’re red flagging the race as the med car is on its way out and the debris on the track is worse than they thought.’

‘Looks like they’re going to have to flip the car back over to get her out. This is some serious stuff.’

‘Still no word from Redbull on the situation. We’ll let you know as soon as we do… right now everyone, let’s hope y/n makes it out of this okay.’

***********

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