#grabs my heart and sobs into the pavement

[wolfywolfy]

Genuinely I love Julian's route in The Arcana so much. The potential of it, this inherent pull towards someone and you don't understand why -- he's admitted guilt to murder yet you can't help but feel this strange insistence that he's innocent. You don't know how, but your body, mind, & soul are screaming at you that this man that you have never met before is good, he's not what others say he is, he's not what he himself says he is; and then you learn that he doesn't even remember what happened, he just assumes he's the guilty party because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was. Why else would he forget unless it was an unbearable guilt he couldn't bear the weight of?

And, on top of it all, he has this same strange familiarity with you. How does he feel when he sees you in the shop and his heart stutters? When suddenly his aimless searching for something feels resolved, when he looks at you and everything feels right? He doesn't know you and yet his body remembers.

The mutual amnesia of people who used to be extremely close. He sees you for what he thinks is the first time ever, but his body is telling him no, we know them, we miss their touch. And you, the apprentice, slowly realizing you're feeling the same things? You immediately trust him because, before you forgot, he was your partner. Your mentor. Somebody you were so incredibly, incredibly close to, but you died and he blamed himself and everything crumpled and he made himself forget so it could never happen again and then --

There you are. And neither of you remember, but at the same time, some part of you does. The muscle memory never left. He touches you so casually, pats your arms and grabs your hand and leads you around the alleys as if it's second nature because it is. He dreams of your face and his torment and of losing you, and doesn't realize that it was real, and that his body itches to hold you because that part of him can't bear to lose you again.

I am obsessed with it. How many little tells are there, really, that the two of you share and hint at it being an old habit from times forgotten? How many little touches used to be daily routines? How many flutters of visions aren't just passing thoughts and wishes, but memories?

You think of how hard it would be to kiss Julian with a plague mask on, and his response is "Imagine trying with two of them," because he wanted to kiss you when you were his apprentice, when you were both desperate and tired and aching and tortured by the plague with only each other's company as a comfort. Maybe that's why you had the thought of kissing him in the first place, too -- but neither of you know why the subject was brought up, neither remember, yet some parts of you do.

Ugh. I love it. And when Julian finally does regain his memories? And he realizes you're real and you're here and you've been here, and he has been able to touch you and hold you this whole time, but now he can truly appreciate it, but he's also horrified with the weight of losing you all over again. Oh my God. It's so good. The potential underlying thoughts and emotions are so good.

[its-avalon-08]

what are we even fighting for? (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, fluffy ending

The air in the flat hung heavy, thick with the unspoken words of a fight that had fizzled out hours ago. Y/N sat on the couch, meticulously folding laundry, each crease a testament to the storm raging inside her. Carlos emerged from the bedroom, a shadow of his usual energetic self.

"Going for a run?" Y/N asked, her voice clipped. It wasn't a question, more a confirmation of the escape route he usually took during their arguments.

"Yeah," Carlos mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He grabbed his trainers, the familiar routine a stark contrast to the turmoil within.

"Great," Y/N said, the single word dripping with sarcasm. Carlos flinched, his shoulders slumping further. He paused at the doorway, finally looking at her.

"Y/N, do we really have to do this?"

"Do what?" she challenged, her gaze hardening.

"This," he said, gesturing vaguely between them. "The constant fighting, the silence."

"Maybe if you hadn't—" Y/N started, but Carlos cut her off.

"Here we go again," he sighed. "It's always my fault, isn't it?"

"No, it's not," Y/N snapped, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "It's just... everything feels so different lately."

They were at an impasse. Every conversation, every attempt to bridge the gap, ended in a fresh volley of accusations and hurt. The silence, once comfortable, now screamed with unspoken resentments.

Carlos ran. He pounded the pavement, his frustration mingling with the rhythmic thud of his feet. When he returned, showered, and hesitantly entered the living room, Y/N was gone. He found her in the bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases.

"What are you doing?" he asked, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Packing," she said, her voice flat. "Maybe a change of scenery will do us both some good."

Carlos's heart hammered against his ribs. "A change? Or a break?"

Y/N stopped folding, her shoulders slumping. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over like a dam finally breached.

"I don't know, Carlos," she choked out. "Maybe... maybe this whole thing was a mistake."

The words landed like a physical blow. Carlos stared at her, the color draining from his face. A mistake? All the laughter, the late-night talks, the shared dreams - were they all meaningless to her?

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The fight had drained him, leaving him numb and speechless. With a defeated sigh, he turned and walked out, the click of the guest room door echoing the hollowness in his chest.

The roar of the engines at the Monaco Grand Prix was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears. She stood stiffly at the pit wall, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. It was race weekend, a time that usually buzzed with shared adrenaline and nervous excitement. Now, the atmosphere felt sterile, devoid of their usual pre-race ritual.

Carlos emerged from the garage, his helmet tucked under his arm. He scanned the crowd, his gaze finally landing on her. Their eyes locked, and for a horrifying moment, Y/N thought he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't come to her. A fresh wave of tears welled up, blurring her vision.

"Y/N," his voice was a croak, barely audible over the din. He hesitated, then began walking towards the starting grid, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Tears spilled over, tracing hot tracks on her cheeks. It was over. All the fights, the resentful silences, had finally driven them apart. A strangled sob escaped her lips.

Just then, the commentator's voice boomed over the loudspeaker, snapping her attention back to the track. "And Sainz is rushing into the paddock! What is he doing?!?"

Y/N's head whipped towards the pit lane, heart pounding in her chest. Through a haze of tears, she saw Carlos sprint past the mechanics, his face etched with determination. He tore through the crowd, his eyes fixed on her.

He skidded to a halt in front of her, his chest heaving. Before she could react, he cupped her face in his calloused hands and pulled her into a desperate kiss. The roar of the crowd faded into the background, replaced by the frantic drumming of their hearts.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Carlos looked at her, his eyes raw with emotion. "Y/N, I messed up," he rasped. "That was never supposed to happen. This… this whole thing, us… it can't end like this."

"Carlos," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "Can we fix it?"

He held her gaze, his voice firm. "I promise. We'll fix it. Whatever it takes." He squeezed her hand, the familiar spark of warmth a lifeline thrown across the chasm that had grown between them. "Now, I have a qualifying to win."

Y/N wiped her tears, a flicker of hope rekindled in her eyes. "Go get 'em, champ," she said, her voice hoarse but determined. "And remember, we're in this together."

Carlos offered a shaky smile, the ghost of his old grin. With one last, lingering kiss, he turned and sprinted back towards the grid, leaving Y/N with a renewed sense of possibility. The roar of the engines no longer sounded like a dirge, but a challenge, a call to face their problems head-on, just like they faced every race.

The qualifying session concluded with Carlos securing a decent starting position. Relief, however, battled with anxiety as he rushed back to the drivers' room. Y/N stood by the window, her back to him. He took a deep breath, the image of her tearful eyes fueling his determination.

"Y/N," he called out gently, his voice raspy.

She spun around, her face etched with a mixture of worry and hope. As their eyes met, the dam broke. Tears welled up anew, spilling down her cheeks. Carlos hurried towards her, his arms outstretched.

"Carlos," she choked out, rushing into his embrace. They clung to each other, the roar of the track a distant echo compared to the storm of emotions within them. Tears soaked their shirts, silent apologies mingling with the salty sting.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "We haven't been communicating, and I shouldn't have said what I did back in the flat."

Carlos held her tighter, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Me too, cariño," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so focused on the championship that I forgot what truly matters. You matter, Y/N. We need to talk, to listen to each other."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them.

"We can fix this," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear. "We just need to try."

Y/N nodded, a small smile trembling on her lips. "I know. I just… I got scared, Carlos. Scared of losing you."

He leaned in, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "You won't lose me," he promised, his voice firm. "Not if you don't want to."

His lips grazed hers, a question lingering in the air. Y/N met him halfway, the kiss a rekindled flame, burning away the hurt and doubt. It was a kiss filled with a newfound appreciation for each other, a promise to rebuild their trust and communication.

Pulling back, foreheads resting against each other, a comfortable silence settled between them. The weight of unspoken words had lifted, replaced by a fragile hope for the future. They knew the road wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they were ready to face whatever came their way. The roar of the engines seemed less daunting now, replaced by the steady beat of two hearts determined to race together.

[ja3yun]

please a heeseung version for the 'how he is as a bf' i will literally sob my pants

you know i wil take any excuse to talk about my delusions involving my man so lets gaur! again, this will include some smut so mdni!!

jake vers. | sunghoon vers. | jay vers.

in the beginning, during the talking/dating stage, heeseung won't be clingy or overbearing. he will keep his distance and text you moreso than take you on dates. communication is important to him so i feel like this is a way to see if you can hold conversation. when you do go out on dates, he will be incredibly sweet and wholesome, i think he enjoys activity dates more than dinner/drinks so expect to have lots and lots of fun. these dates are important to him because where texting and phonecalls tell him about your communication, dates wpuld determine your vibe and connection

he has a very strong head on him and is very logical so i think he would set out with the intention to keep his feelings close to his chest but the purity of his heart and his desire to love would overrule that aspect of him. heeseung is a lover and piner so it wouldn't take long for him to fall in love with you but he won't admit it as soon as he feels it, he will wait for the right moment to make it special for you both. that being said, if he was really vibing with you and could see that you love him just the same, it could just blurt out in the middle of your date or at home (which he would curse himself for later on)

POSSESSIVE and knows it. when you're in a relationship, he is going to be protective of you, particularly when you are out together. he will make you walk on the inside of the pavement, hold onto your hand tightly when others are around, grab your waist to let you know that he is there and won't let go until he absolutely has to. heeseung would be so down bad for you in private but when there are other men around, it's even worse.

he would like his space though, he doesn't need you around him all the time so you would have a very relaxed relationship, lots of texts and calls but he doesn't need quality time all the time, he values being on his own or with his friends, quality time with them is just as important as quality time with you.

that being said, he will take you out with his friends to help you bond. he would prefer it if you got along with his mates, or at least tried to. when he goes out with them to the gaming cafe, he will invite you out but ofc, half way during the session he will have you sit on his lap, espacially if he is getting cocky with winning.

more under cut

the dates he takes you on are never spontaneous and always planned to ensure you have the BEST time. he takes your personality and likes into consideration each and every time, it's important to him that you feel valued and loved in the relationship and he knows sometimes with schedules or his need to relax on his own that it could come across as neglect, this man will do everything in his power to make sure you never think that way.

unlike the others, he would show you off. perhaps not in public until you are both settled but definitely everyone in the company knows about you. the reason i think this is because he wants you to be supportive of him, go to concerts, schedules, be his number one fan! there is nothing he loves more than a supportive partner, he needs a relationship that both of you are career driven so you can both be there for one another.

i think he loooves cuddles and staying in with you. not so much doing domestic stuff but just relaxing and in each others company is more than enough for him. he likes to watch movies and play games with you laying inbetween his legs or vice versa, randomly kisses you during adverts or loading screens, his hands are always on you when you're with one another privately, so its probably the best time to indulge in the little clinginess he shows.

will sing to you if you ask!! not full scale microphone and performance but soft luls of his favourite tracks to you while you're walking outside or in the house cleaning up. he is definitely the type of boyfriend to dance with you in the middle of the night, the fridge or dim lights from the living room being the perfect accent to the moment. he would absolutely nuzzle your nose and tell you everything he loves about you in these moments, words he says triggering another song to pop into his mind and twirl you around.

couples jewellery are a must, rings and earrings specifically. we all know he likes a singular earring on his ear, and you would absolutely have the other. the jewellery is a way to keep you with him at all times, particularly when he is on tour. he will wear them and subtlety touch them when he's performing love songs, imagining singing them directly to you

kisses: soft, romantic, subtle, passionate. he loves the feeling of your lips and how soft they are with his. he is obsessed with long, lingering kisses so he will hold you back from meetings or work to softly cradle your cheek and give you long pecks. if he knew he had time he would easily slip his tongue in your mouth and try for a full scale makeout session. he loves to taste you and have you completely at his mercy, making you moan into his mouth and whimper when he pulls away. its all part of his possessive nature like he just loves to know you're his. he will also be a mess kissing, whispering sweet 'i love yous' and 'fuck' because he's vocal as fuck with everything he does.

bowchikawowow: he is a passionate man with lots of love and energy to offer. i see him as quite a horny person (tbh that might just be me being self indulgent) so, like jake, he is fucking you anywhere and everywhere he can. loves a quicky, will always be ready and prepared to pound you. sometimes he wants to go slow and sensual but you're just too delectable and he's too randy to wait. why fuck you slow when he can mske you cum multiple times by fucking you hard and fast. heeseung isn't primal with it, it's still filled with love and adoration, i'm thinking hardest he will do is soft-dom vibes but only if you bring it up first - he doesn't want to force you into anything you are uncomfy with. likes you on all fours and mirror sex the most. adores it when you call yourself his while his cock is inside you, could cum just at the words leaving your lips.

my man adores giving you aftercare, literally part of the process. if its a long, hot session, he's making sure you pee and shower, or at least will clean you up. he alresd has some form of vitimin water in the fridge waiting for you, vitimin because he sometimes wants a round two asap. when he takes you for a quicky in the office building or wherever, there isn't much he can do so instead of his pampering, he will kiss all over your face and murmer words of affection into your skin, never wanting to let you go.

again, these are my delusional opinions!! if you have other ideas let me know, i love to hear them <3 (and yes jay will be next)

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be. 

Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored. 

Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.

Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following. 

One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.

Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead. 

Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen. 

He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.  

The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off. 

His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in. 

By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore. 

He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.

“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”

Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms. 

“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has. 

As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”

Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing. 

Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.

“DADDY!”

The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention. 

He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.

He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.

Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush. 

Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe. 

As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene. 

“What the fuck?”

Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”

“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”

Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.” 

He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on. 

“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”

“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”

He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast. 

He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.” 

That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl. 

“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”

Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest. 

The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it. 

Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.” 

Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt. 

Murdock, however, disagrees. 

“Call Claire,” he counters firmly. 

Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”

Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.

“What did he do this time?”

A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude. 

“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.

“So, take her to the ER.”

He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”

The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”

He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.” 

“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?” 

“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.

Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.” 

“No one’s expecting you to.”

The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.” 

Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on. 

So, a full security upgrade is in your near future. 

But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up. 

The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.

 Overall, you are just pretty banged up. 

But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes. 

Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.

Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking. 

“She’s just sleeping?” 

“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”

He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red. 

“Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.” 

They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.

“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”

Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead. 

“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”

He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.

Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”

“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.” 

Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question. 

“Why?”

Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her. 

Why? 

Why? 

Why?

Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him. 

He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”

Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.” 

“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing. 

He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.

He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop. 

There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.

He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth. 

He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”

Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.

“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes. 

He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil. 

Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.

“Thank you, Frank.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”

“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Murdock.”

---

a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[igotanidea]

One step closer: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason being terrified of the storm and reader helping him.

***

At first the sky was crystal clear blue and without a single cloud.

The weather, however has a unique ability to change in a blink of an eye – maybe that’s why people believe nature is a woman, with its specific humors and whims.

The droplets of rain started hitting the pavement when Y/N was walking home from work. Deprived of the umbrella, as usual. And even thought she liked a little bit of precipitation it was one thing to enjoy the musky scent of ozone and ground, and the other to be drenched. Therefore, taking cue of the other people, rushing to find even a makeshift shelter, upon realizing that the rest of the evening was going to be filled with October like weather, she took off running. In her best hope to get home before all hell break loose.

As the raindrops started to intensify, she swiftly swiveled on the puddles, miraculously avoiding slipping and stepping into the treacherously shallow waters, only to discover it was ankle depth.

Getting home in time to save her porous hair from frizzling into a mess on her hair, but not soon enough to miss the lighting and thunder echoing through the space.

“Oh no…” she muttered to herself, opening the door to the tenement, where she was sharing a an apartment with Jason.

Jason. Precisely.

She climbed the stair jumping two steps at a time, all to reach their place faster, knowing well enough what she was going to find there.

“Jace?” she called his name, kicking off her shoes and hanging the wetted coat on the hanger. “Jace, are you here?”

“In here…” weak, shaky voice came from the living room.

“Oh, baby…”

Jason was crouched on the couch, away from the window, almost paralyzed by the flashes of light and sounds outside. It was nothing new to her. After all, her poor boy was scared of the storm, not that she could blame him.

When they started dating, hanging around in the city and having fun, the first time the storm came in during their time out, he just stopped in the middle of the street with wide eyes, unable to move a single muscle. Scaring the shit out of her making the girl believe he was going through a stroke or something. Using whatever strength she could gather, Y/N grabbed the arm of the mountain of stiffened muscles Jason turned into and dragged him into the nearest roofed place.

In between ragged breaths and trembles, Jason tried to explain himself and prevent the damage of her thinking he was crazy or something. And even though all she was doing was holding his hand, soothing him with her voice, trying to ground him and not demand any words, he managed to stutter that the storm was reminding him of the time Joker was hitting him with a crowbar.

Lighting was like a flashes in his eyes, recollection of blood and pain.

Thunder was like a sound of a vicious laugh, echoing in his ears, a remnant of incoming ending.

And that broke her heart.

Since then, there was not a time she allowed Jason to be alone during the storm. Reaching him in any way possible. When at work – text or call. When at home – cuddles and kisses. When out – immediate retreat and doing anything possible to help him focus on her rather than surrounding.

So now, her course of action was almost innate.

Closing the windows, which he was unable of, due to immediate panic attack. Drawing the curtains. Sitting on the couch next to him. Opening her welcoming arms and surrounding him with her warmth.

“It’s okay Jason…” she whispered pulling his head to her chest. “It’s okay. Just listen to my heartbeat, baby.”

“I’m so scared, Y/N.” he almost sobbed, like a 15 year old he was when Joker was mutilating him. “I don’t want to –“

“Shhh. Shhh, my love.” Her fingers danced in his hair, touch as soft as possible to not startle, but help him. A single wrong move, too intense or in the wrong place could be catastrophic, considering he was one foot in the past “I’m not letting anything happen to you.” A gentle soft kiss placed on his forehead was supposed to serve as an assurance of her love, presence and protective shield “I got you, Jason. I got you…”

“He’s coming after me!” as another thunder tore the sound of humming rain he snuggled closer to her chest “He’s coming!”

This was worse than anything she has experienced before and she was forced to think and act quickly and with new methods, to avoid him spiraling out of control and rooting in the tragic memories.

Pulling him closer, Y/N started to hum some melody. Quietly as first, but then letting it grow a little louder and more intense, leaning towards him to make sure it was the only sound reaching his ears.

“I have died every day waiting for you, darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more…..”

His hands tightened on her waist, almost bruising but she didn’t care.

“One step closer, one step closer….”

Slowly, her voice started to replace the bad memories.

One step closer – to her.

One step closer – to the present and not the past.

One step closer – to breaking from the nightmare.

“Y/N….” he whispered, allowing himself to relax under her caresses.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” He nuzzled into her chest, loosing the grip but not letting go. Never letting go.

“I’m here…” she only responded, with a tiny smile, as if that was the entire explanation needed. And it was.

“Stay.” He whispered, not opening his eyes, not changing the position, not moving even in the slightest to avoid breaking the fragile peace.

“I’m here.” She said for the third time.

She was there. And the weight of her dedication, devotion and touch the made the door to the past close. Like a book that still describe your life, but stays on the shelf, being nothing but a memory. Painful, gory and traumatizing, but still – just a memory, making place for the new story.

And maybe it was time to commence it.

She was there.

[zablife]

Lee! Hope you're doing well 💋 so I so your prompt for the requests and if you're feeling inspired with this what about?

- ❛ I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜

with Tommy?

The Debt

Warning: Dark!Tommy 💀, mention of gun, blood, murder, trauma

You bit your hand to keep from screaming as the man in the long, black overcoat pushed you inside your small bedsit. The door slammed behind you as you stumbled toward the window, pushing the lace curtains aside with trembling fingertips. The remnants of blood were still there on the cobblestones beside the alley, though it was quickly being washed away in the driving rain.

Your memories of the violence carried out in your name would not be erased so easily. The bile rose in your throat as you thought of each shot striking its target, blood gushing over the pavement and splattering onto your shoes. You looked down to see the evidence of the stains that had ruined your new boots, an odd sensation washing over you as though you were staring at someone else's feet rather than your own.

"Come away from the window, love," a low voice rumbled across the room like thunder.

Your body shuddered involuntarily at the noise, a hand gripping the window ledge to keep upright. Feet uncooperative as your mind, you attempted to reply, but found yourself unable to dislodge the words from your brain. You shook your head fiercely, but the cotton headed feeling wouldn't budge.

The man scoffed at your disobedience, removing his coat to wrap around your shoulders protectively. He clamped a large hand over your shoulder, guiding you toward the little table in the corner. As he handed over a flask, he instructed, "Sit down and have some of this. It'll steady your nerves."

Suddenly you heard yourself stutter, "I...d-d-don't drink."

"Alright, tea then," he conceded. "Where do you keep it?" He leaned over you, eyebrow raised in question until your finger pointed in the direction of a far cupboard.

As he turned away, his gun came into view and your heart began to hammer at your ribcage until you thought you might faint. Pressing your fingers to your temples, you closed your eyes and attempted deep breaths. Eventually you pushed them out in labored waves, though your body was quickly wracked by sobs.

"Hey, hey...there's no need for tears," you heard the deep voice begin to soothe as you felt a warm cup being pressed into your palms.

Looking up through watery eyes, you sniffed, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Taking a seat opposite you, the man's crystalline blue eyes locked onto yours intently as he introduced himself as Tommy Shelby. "You don't know who I am?"

"No," you admitted. "I've only just arrived this week."

Tommy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You'd never have taken that short cut if you'd known the sorts of bastards lurking."

A draft blowing through the crack in the windowsill crept across the back of your neck at that moment, triggering a phantom feeling of icy fingers upon your throat and you startled losing your grip on the china.

Tommy caught the cup before it landed on the floor, hissing as the hot liquid scalded his hands.

"I'm sorry, I felt his hands..." you mumbled, fingers tracing the delicate skin where the man from the alley had grabbed you.

"You've had a shock," Tommy stated, cleaning himself off with a rag. "But you needn't worry any longer. You're under my protection now." He stood with a determined nod, gathering his cap and placing it on his head.

For the first time that evening your shoulders relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief. With a bit of effort, you banished the terrifying images of what you'd seen and tried to find good in the intimidating man before you. You even began convincing yourself it was fate that brought him to look after you in your new city.

However, as you stood to remove Mr. Shelby's coat, he casually announced, “You can bring it tomorrow when you see me about repaying your debt.” Then he proffered a business card.

You stared up at his chiseled face, partially covered in shadow. Unable to tell if he were serious. "I don't understand,” you admitted with a puzzled look.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “So forgetful all of a sudden, aren't we," he scolded.

Your throat went dry, constricting painfully when you tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"

The leather cracked menacingly as he reached out to caress the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've killed for you. Who else can say that?" he reminded you in a voice far too flat and calm to offer affection.

Your eyes went wide as you searched his darkening pupils, panic shooting down your spine as you thought of what awaited you at the address printed on the card. The bit of paper shook violently in your hand as his thumb grazed your lips, leaving a powerful promise in his wake. "I've done something for you, now it's your turn."

When you bristled beneath his touch, he leaned toward your ear, a hiss escaping on his whisky scented breath. "I could return you to that alley if you like, but I think you'll find this arrangement far better." He turned without giving you a chance to protest. There was no need for once you owed a debt to Tommy Shelby, he owned you for life.

---------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

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@outlanderuniverse

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@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie12

@look-at-the-soul

@runnning-outof-time

@cillmequick

@thomashelbyswife

@call-sign-shark

@kmhappybunny240

@babayaga67

@neonpurplestars89-blog

@thegreatdragonfruta

@brummiereader

@emotionalcadaver

@multifandomwriter56

@toms-cherry-trees

@skydisneylover

@garrison-girl-08

@noforkingclue

@dearshelby

[romaevelizz]

Fragments of Love ˖ ࣪⊹

K. TUSKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹

Sum: Loving Tsukishima wasn’t easy, and eventually the fraction of love he gave her wasn’t enough to make up for his words anymore.

Warnings: Angst, toxic relationships, cursing, not proceed ofc!!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

It was to perfect, wasn’t it? Sure she knew what she had gotten herself into when she began dating him knowing it wasn’t easy. But every couple has downs right? But one fight turned into one every week, and one every week turned into almost every day. They’d go days without having a meaningful conversation or even checking up on one another. The smile she once greeted him with slowly disappearing every time he saw her, she looked exhausted.

She was, she was tired of begging for his attention his love. The fucking bare minimum, why couldn’t he give it to her? Because he simply didn’t want to? ‘

‘Just leave him.’

She couldn’t, she stayed because even after the cruel words he said to her even after he got in her face even after everything. She came back to him every single time. Because he apologized.

He’d apologize, holding her close to him and tell her that he was sorry and he loved her. He’d show her so much love, because deep down he knew he was wrong for what he’s done.

That she never. Ever. Deserved the things he said yet he said them to her. He’d break her heart over and over again and she stayed. And everyone remind him that, simply tell him that he didn’t deserve her. That he took her generosity for granted, and that someday she won’t be as forgiving, that she won’t run back into his arms.

Their voices echoed outside the gym, they had been arguing all day and it finally erupted. Him complaining that she’s taking up his practice time, that he has better things to do then sit her and argue with “ a fucking-!”

“A fucking what?! A fucking what Kei!”

“A stupid fucking bitch!”

“Fuck you! You don’t care about anyone but your fucking self!”

He scoffed going back and forth with her, his face close with her as there screaming match became more heated. The sound of the gym doors opening being drowned out as they yelled. “You put your hands on her I’ll put you down my self.”

Tsukishima turned around quickly the feeling of his captains hand grabbing his arm, “like I’d fucking touch her.” He said.

Daichi glanced at his fist then to him “but you thought about it.” His voice stern. Tsukishima scoffed pulling away from Daichi walking to the gym, not sparing her a glance. As sick as it was she wouldn’t be surprised if he ever laid his hands on her, he’s punched walls and thrown things at her.

Daichis eyes met hers, her makeup running her eyes bloodshot. “Think it’s best you head home for the night.”

So she did.

And when it was time for his cycle to repeat, she stood there her eyes lifeless as she looked at him. Moving her head when he tried touching her face. Her anger was still fresh. Give her time. Give her time to come back like she dose.

Time was given and she didn’t run back into his arms, she didn’t accept his apologies. Days had passed and he was going crazy, the messages he sent being left on read over and over. Her never responding to them even when he would curse as her and tell her stop being dramatic in the voicemails he sent. He couldn’t stand how she avoided him in the halls like he was nothing. He was weak.

He’d never admit it would he that he was weak without her. It made him sick how dependent he was for her. Once two weeks had pass he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please.” A broken sob came from his throat.

“Go home Kei.” She spoke turning around to face him more.

Tsukishima was on his knees his head touching the pavement as he bowed apologetically, “I’m begging you please.” He cried.

He had finally looked up to her hoping there was something, even a simple frown in her brows. But nothing, she faced him emotionless. Just like last time. He’d sucked the last bit of life out of her, that when he finally decided to care it was too late. He wanted her to laugh in his face right now tell him how pathetic he was; crying at her feet like this. Yet she just stood there her hands tucked away in her sleeves her arms crossed.

“You used to make me feel good about myself, but now you make me feel like shit.” She spoke softly.

“Like I’m not good enough, or interesting enough-“

“I don’t think that..” he started.

“No shut up. Because that’s bullshit Tsukishima! You’ve told me yourself,” she scoffed. “Telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m lame, that I’m annoying that I’m unlovable.” She said her voice cracking.

His heart broke because she was right. He never had anything good to say, he’d done nothing but degrade her for months. That he was the cause of all of this because he couldn’t show her his love.

“I hate that it’s taken me till now to open my eyes,” no, no,no.

“Because I am enough. I am interesting, I am worthy of fucking love!” She spoke her voice stern.

She was worthy of love, yet he never showed that to her. He wasn’t worthy of hers, he didn’t deserve the chance she gave him. And she was going to leave him, this was what he was so afraid of. Trusting letting someone in. But how could he feel that what when the person he treated so horribly let him in so easily over and over again, he treated her like a fucking chore. Not his girlfriend.

“We’re done Kei. Over. I’m transferring, because I can’t be around you. I’m blocking and removing you on socials, don’t fucking reach out to me. Because with me leaving I don’t know what you’ll do. Maybe you’ll get a new girlfriend and treat her like a fucking human being.”

No, no he didn’t want a new girlfriend. He wanted her, she was leaving him. Leaving him for good. Moving schools so she doesn’t have to she his fucking face anymore. Blocking him so she doesn’t receive messages of him threatening and bullying her then begging for forgiveness. Over and over.

Broken sobs came from him as he stood up walking towards her, pleading her not to go. Just to give him a chance he’ll make it right this time. He promises. He promised to love her. To cherish her. That nobody could love him like she did because she was lovable. Because he was so fucking in love with her.

His head pressed against her front door as he begged her to open it, that he’ll make it right. A loud thud of his fist hitting the door as he cried. “Go home Tsukishima or I’m calling your brother to pick you up.” She spoke her back to the door.

“Don’t do this.. please.”

His brother had eventually picked him up with Yamaguchi and his father. When he got home he stood in his room phone in hand a message typed out to her. The message was green when he sent it.

“FUCK!” He yelled throwing his phone. Anger, was all he felt Anger and sadness. As he thrashed his room tears streaming down his face. He fucking hated her how could she do this to him. How could she leave him. That she made him feel so loved and she just left him. God how pathetic, she was a fucking loser, leave him? How could she leave him in so much pain?

“You’re actually joking me right…”

Tsukishimas eyes met his best friends. “What..”

“You’re blaming her.. how dare she leave?”Tadashi scoffed. Tsukishimas eyes left his looking over the others that sat with him during break Kageyama and Hinata.

The team stayed out of his business of corse but tsukishima brought this on himself rambling about her, because he was obsessed. Because he couldn’t admit he was in the wrong. That he was wrong, but how dare she leave right? Because it’s all on her.

“You ruined her.” The voice of the team’s manager spoke up.

Everyone looked at her, before Tsukishima could open his mouth she turned towards him “You ruined her, she let you hurt her over and over again. And she stayed. But when she’s finally fed up with your bullshit. When she became self aware of her self worth it’s selfish? Shame on her for wanting to be loved right? Shame on her for knowing she is so much more than you ever deserved.” She scoffed.

Kiyoko looked Tsukishima in the eyes “Thanks to you, she won’t ever be able to let anyone in as easily again, she won’t be able to feel loved because you tore her apart, you didn’t love her.”

“I did, I do love her. Fuck you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spoke standing up.

Kiyoko rolled her eyes. “You don’t, you never fucking loved her because if you did she still be here. If you loved her you would have showed her.”

“But you’re a fucking insecure loser.” She finished her tone filled with venom.

Tsukishima was speechless. Kiyoko was right, that if he loved her she would still be there. With him smiling, holding his hand. But she wasn’t.

He ruined her, ruined her sanity and self respect for herself. Shame on her for having an enough to leave him so she could fix herself. Because all of a sudden once she left once he knew he lost her he started caring. She wouldn’t let anyone love her in the way she deserved because of him, because of him she’ll create a barrier never to let anyone in again.

Because he only gave her a fragment of his love.

 it’s very much ranting apologies.. listened to ceilings on repeat while writing this!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You can hear Thor following you as you storm down the pavement. You cover your face as your horror overflows in choking sobs. You’ve never hurt like this before. The pain is so deep you could crumple to the ground then and there. 

He grabs softly at your hand as he tries to stop you, “little one.” 

“Please, let me go,” you beg as you tear away from him, nearly tripping, “oh god, I can’t believe--” 

“Shh, shhh, please, breathe,” he grasps your wrist firmly and stops you, “it’s late, I can’t let you go running off into the dark.” 

“I’ll find a bus,” you insist, “please, I--” you face him and heave, “how could he do this to me?” You babble and use your free hand to mop your cheeks, “how could I ever think he wanted me?” 

“Oh, dear,” he sweeps you into a hug before you can stop him. “It isn’t that. He is wrong. He is... I am ashamed to call him my son.” 

You want to resist. You know you should but his embrace is soothing. The sound of his heart beat as he pulls your head to his chest keeps yours from racing. You hug him back and sniffle. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, “but he is your son.” 

“And?” He rubs your back and rocks you, “it doesn’t mean I condone this behaviour. I’ve been soft on him too long.” 

His words drift into the cool night air as you cling to him. He’s warm against the chill. You shudder out a breath as the silence roils with tension. His hand stills and crawls up to the back of your head as he slowly parts. He looks down at you as he holds you at arm’s length. 

“You will stay. Just for the night so I know you are safe,” he says. 

“I can’t--” 

“Yes, you can,” he drags his touch down your neck and arm and takes your hand, “come.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you plead as he tugs you back towards his house. 

“Thor,” he corrects swiftly, “trust me, just this once.” 

You can’t argue. He’s already done so much. Your car, the tip, you feel as if you owe him. Even in this circumstance. 

He takes you up the front steps. Your reluctance weighs down your steps and he coaxes you forward. He hushes you again as he takes you through the front door and stops you just short of the staircase. 

“You will go to my room, right at the end of the hall,” he points as he turns to you, “lock the door for now.” 

“Thor, what’s going on? What are you going to do?” You squeak. 

“What I should’ve done long ago.” 

“Are you...” 

“He is my son, I wouldn’t harm him, yet he has hurt you. He has made a habit of using people, not only you but myself, his brother, his mother... it cannot stand,” he declares, “please, go, I shouldn’t like him to see you, in case he does choose violence. We both know his temper.” 

Your mouth falls open and you look past him then to the stairs, “you don’t have to... for me.” 

“It is right. He is not a child anymore. It is a lesson overdue for many years. I cannot help but blame myself for your pain so let me try at least to atone,” he squeezes your shoulder then nods to the stairs, “please.” 

You lower your lashes and turn to climb the stairs. You stop at the top to peek back again. He looms. You continue on and find your way to his room. You shut the door but cannot move away from it. 

You flick on the light. His room is painted a deep shade of evergreen. The wooden floor is dark and smooth, with a rug beneath the large four-postered bed. A king-size with a thick frame built of square planks. There’s a desk by the window and a chair of the same heavy wood as the bed. A large wardrobe stands opposite with a houserobe hung from the slightly ajar door. 

You turn to the door and press yourself to it. You can hear his footsteps below. It happens all at once, muffled but decisive. Magni’s door swings open and hits the wall, Something falls over, probably that table you told him was too close. 

Then a girl’s yelp and deep timbres. An argument you can only make pieces out of. Their voices rise higher and get clearer as you hear them moving. The front door opens and snaps shut again. They’re still yelling. Oh god, what do you do? 

You can only listen as the tempest blows below. There’s movement too, some banging and slamming. Footsteps back and forth. It lasts forever. Your chest is about to split open. You hear Thor’s voice as clear as if he’s right beside you. 

“Get out,” he demands. 

The front door opens again and you hold your breath. There’s a strange cracking noise before feet stomp outside and across the porch. You scurry to the window to look out. Magni’s shadow stalks angrily through the dark, the outline of his knapsack crooked over his back. 

You retreat and pace around the room. Waiting. The house falls back into silence and you hear Thor climbing the stairs. He sighs and it drifts toward the door. You face it as he knocks from the other side.  

“Hi,” you utter dumbly. 

He slowly twists the knob and peeks around the door, “he’s gone.” 

You gasp as you see his face. There’s a split across the bridge of his nose. Your fear subsides in the wake of concern. 

“What happened?” You rush forward as he lets the door fall all the way open. 

He won’t look at you. 

“Ah, he was caught offguard is all,” Thor rubs the back of his neck. 

“He hit you?” You stop before him, looking up tremulously. 

“I’m glad it was me and no one else,” he intones. “If you weren’t here, I can’t say I’d have left him in one piece.” 

“Oh,” you whimper. 

“I don’t mean to scare you,” he shakes his head. 

“Your bleeding,” you say as his nose drips red. 

“Ah, I thought I’d stopped it,” he presses his knuckle to his nose. 

“Here, let me help, um,” you look around and rush over to the en suite bathroom. You dip inside as you hear his uncertain steps in the bedroom. You return to him, “er, can you sit? I can’t reach.” 

“Of course, little one,” he sits on the bed and drops his hand. You unravel toilet paper from the roll and fold it into a square. You raise it to dab his nose gently. 

“Does it hurt too much? Is this too rough?” You ask. 

“Not even close,” he assures. His blue eyes sparkle at you. The way he watches you makes you sweat. 

You stare at the split higher up his nose over the cartilage, “do you think it’s broken?” 

“He had it crooked but I put it back,” Thor chuckles. 

“Oh,” your frown. 

“I can take it,” he says, “I’m so disappointed...” he flicks his lashes down, “to think I could raise a heathen like that. Someone who would hurt you.” He winces and reaches to take the toilet paper from you, “I’ve got it.” 

You retract your hand as he presses the tissue to his nose. You clutch the roll and sway nervously.  

“Where’s he gone?” You ask. 

“It isn’t my problem,” he growls, “the idiot. How could he not see--” He stops and looks at you, agonized, “you don’t deserve that. What you said before, it isn’t true. You are easy to want, little one, but he is young and arrogant.” 

You bite into your lip at the unexpected compliment. You can’t help but think he only says so because it’s what he’s meant to say. Everyone’s nice to the broken hearted. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t care either,” you resign. You look him over and your chest pangs. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?” 

“Oh, no, I should be asking you,” he stands. “First, let’s get you settled. Modi’s old room should do, I think.” 

[love-bitesx]

what would hobie do in a situation where reader, who’s a new spider person (like pavitr, like they got bitten by the spider few months ago or smth) had just went through their canon event?? whether it be what he would do after the event or during is completely up to you, im just curious and i have hobie brainrot rn LMAOAOAO

ofc if u don’t wanna do this request thats completely fine, have a good rest of ur day/night!!

hobie x gn!reader

warnings: death, family member dying, very (very) brief description of a dead body, but nothing graphic at all. hobie just wants u to be safe n happy :( he’s been through that grief and his heart hurts knowing you’re abt to go through it too :(

you couldn’t move.

your watch emitted a blaring, shrill alarm, miguel desperately trying to make contact, but you were frozen. bones aching, numb, all you could do was stare at the scene in front of you with watery eyes.

“i-,” your body betrayed you, catching your words as they try to escape, clawing at the walls of your throat as they get dragged back down into the growing pit in your stomach. falling to your knees, numb to the feeling of rubble against your bones, you picked up a slab of concrete and threw it to the side.

“uncle ben.”

it was all you could muster, voice small and hoarse, and if a mouse had squeaked at the same time, you would’ve lost in comparison. shaking hands rising to touch his face, a strangled choke broke out at the cold, lifeless skin that met your trembling fingertips. he looked strangely peaceful, sending a bolt of pain directly to your heart.

“no-no, please, uncle ben,” your thoughts unravelled, grabbing at his shirt, as if you could shake the life back into his bones, “please, i can’t do this– i can’t do this without you.”

you’d only been a “spider person” for 4 months. only 4 months of navigating the most isolating, terrifying journey with no one but your dear uncle by your side. he’d grown with you, seeing you muster from dangling off climbing frames in playgrounds as a child, to scaling buildings and saving lives. not a day went past when he wasn’t there with you, holding your hand through the unfathomable changes.

it all happened so quickly. one moment, you’re fighting an anomaly, bashing around the streets of your earth, leading the monster further away from the crowds – until it threw itself, headfirst into a neighbouring building, office blocks, you think to yourself, nothing too serious. that is, until you trap it, ready to send it back to miguel with ease, and lay eyes on the scene it left behind. people crushed under concrete, glass shattered the streets, and a familiar face unconscious on the pavement.

“y/n,” a voice sounds from behind you, but your soul is too busy trying to claw it’s way out of your chest to notice, or care. you laid on his unmoving torso, heart ripping at the vacancy of its usual heaving.

“y/n,” it sounded again, and a twang of familiarity shone its way through the darkness.

“he’s–” you sobbed, reluctantly lifting your head, “i couldn’t save him, i– it’s all my fault, hobie.”

“shh, come ‘ere,” you barely felt his arms wrapping around you, your body was numb. it’s like you were a ghost, haunting your own skin – a poltergeist in the wind.

regardless, you fell into him, gripping his leather vest until your knuckles were white. sobbing into his chest, his ringed hand came up to calm you, running it softly over the curves of your spine, voice low as he whispers into you, “it ain’t your fault, love.”

“you two, you need to get back—” miguel’s voice came booming from a growing portal, spider-people spilling into your dimension, ready to bring the anomaly home, until hobie cut him off sternly.

“fuck off, miguel,” he spat, pulling his arms tighter around you, feeling as though if he held you close enough, he could shelter you from the grief. maybe, if he kept you in his arms, he could carry the burden of your loss on his own studded shoulders. but, he knew he couldn’t, he’d been there before – they all had. all he could do was be there for you, a hand to hold and shoulder to cry on.

and so that’s exactly what he did.

“love, gonna come stay with me for a bit, yeah?” he whispered into your hair, and you nodded weakly, his heart surged, “just ‘til you feel a’ight.”

he placed a kiss – gentle, safe – to your forehead.

“i’ll look after you, darlin’.”

[sunsburns]

I have a question, do you write angsty endings, and if so would you write one for Eric? (Preferably if reader died and he had to live on)

a world alone violence; death; panic attacks i have such a great treat for you! it is kinda short because my quiet place era was short-lived but i hope you enjoy!

There was something haunting about the way the wind blew, tossing dust around and dragging dead leaves across the pavement. The sound echoed eerily with the breeze, only to vanish into the oppressive silence.

Eric stood there, frozen, as if time itself had halted. His breath caught in his chest, and he wondered if he had lost his hearing. His body shuddered, a rattling tremor that ran from his shoulders down his spine.

You were just there. Right there in front of him.

He could still see the teary glimmer in your eyes as you hid behind the shelf of the abandoned pharmacy. The scream was trapped in your throat the moment the wind slammed the door shut, shattering the already cracked windows. The monsters came quickly, their steps an ominous cadence as if they'd been lying in wait for this very moment.

Panic surged as you both scrambled to find each other, the urgency palpable. Eric's heart pounded in his ears, but he tried to ignore his loud footsteps as he rushed to your side. Then, one of the creatures crashed in, and you both froze, mere feet apart.

Eric's knees shook, barely supporting his weight. You reached out, trying to calm him, but your gesture did little to soothe his terror when he saw the looming shadow behind you. You didn’t see it, or maybe you did.

Maybe you knew. You probably knew. You didn't want him to see you scared.

Did you?

His lips quivered, his breath stuck in his chest. He struggled to breathe, to warn you, but you looked at him with a calmness that broke his heart, waving your hands to remind him to breathe.

You took a step closer to Eric. He took a step back.

Did you think he was abandoning you?

You took another step, and he retreated further, the monster's presence growing ever more menacing behind you.

Eric choked on a sob, panic rising as you held a finger to your lips, urging him to be silent. But then the monster growled, almost drooling over you, and Eric's gasp escaped, loud and anguished.

The creature lunged.

It grabbed you instead of him.

Your scream cut through the silence, and then you were gone.

The wind shifted, moving the broken glass on the ground, and Eric stifled his sobs with a fist to his mouth. He stood there, paralyzed, staring at the place where he last saw you, the horror of your absence settling in like a crushing weight.

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x fem!reader

title: in your embrace, I will stay

warnings: cursing, angst, rotting fluff

a/n: as always this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. listen to the song pretty girl by 4ever falling. I hope you like it, it's a little sad but as always, with love!

-

I woke up in a cold sweat, on the mattress. The moon was shining in from that small window up top making light in the dark basement. I sat up a little dizzy and tired, it wasn't the usual time id wake up nor did I even think Albert was down here either. 

I stood up, my bare feet on the cold pavement, I destinctivley remember when he left the basement before I went to bed he left the door unlocked. 

I walked to the door and open it. I didn't think anything of it of course I was either stupid or didn't care. When I took the first step on the stairs I saw the warm light from the top, it made me go up further so I did. 

When I reached the top I saw the kitchen it was small and to my right there was a table, to my left there was garbage can and a fridge. 

And then him... He had his mask on, only the top half, a belt in his hands, he was asleep. Why did he leave the door unlocked and was he waiting for me?

I was oblivious to the situation at hand, he snored softly and I couldn't help but smile a little, I looked at him for a moment but then something happened out of my control.

I stepped not feeling a bit of need to hide in fear but that was only as of right now. I reach my hand, I gently touch the side of his temple, his soft wrinkles. 

His eyes opened just as fast as I could step back, he stood up and gripped the belt in hand. I fell back on the floor a little shocked by my heart stopping for only a second.

"What did I say... Didn't I say if you came up here, I would make you beg me to stop!" He yelled.

I flinched, it was hard to see his eyes so angry. "Albert..." My voice was only a whisper.

"The shit you have to make me worry about-." He sounded so sad yet so mad.

"I wasn't going to escape, you know that!"

He held up the belt, I cover my face in absolute fear and start to cry, he just couldn't do it. Watching me as I cried in fear and confusion, he knew I wouldn't leave him and he knew he'd never hurt me no matter how hard I can be on him, he really only knew I didn't understand. 

He groaned in anger, he threw the belt to the floor and yelled aloud thrashing the dishes on the counter and breaking them, he was so angry at himself, he could bring himself to hurt me. I yelled for him. "Albert!" 

He was breathing heavily, his heart aches at the sound of my desperate voice. He got to me, he grabbed my wrists and made me look him in the eye, he didn't say anything cause the fear, the sadness in his eyes said a lot. He pulled me back down the stairs. "Albert, you're hurting me!" 

He pulled me to the bed, "do you not understand why you stay down here..." 

"Yes I do!" I shout at him.

He grew even more angry, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. "ID FIND SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY LOVED ME BEFORE I WAIST MY TIME ON YOU!" 

I fell against him, sobbing in his arms. He didn't know what came over him, he wrapped his arms around me, he was so tall only my head reached his chest and he was able to cradle me. I look up at him, sobbing. He wiped my tears gently. "Shh, shh, shh." He cooed. 

"I-i though maybe s-since you l-left the door open I'd be a-able to see you. I d-dont want to sleep alone!" I cry.

He wiped my tears with his thumb, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. "I left the door open... On purpose." 

was confused, "Why? You didn't think id actually run away from you." 

He sighs, "Bunny, you make me worry." 

"You don't trust me?" My eyes water and his heart aches at the sight.

"No, no bunny. I needed to make sure you weren't scared of me." I tilt my head. "I couldn't hit you with that belt. You stood there confused and scared but I knew you weren't scared of me." 

"How could you know that?" I ask.

"Because you looked at me like you didn't know me at all." He put a lock of hair behind my ear. 

"I just wanted you." 

His eyes gazes down at me, his large hand cupped my cheek and he sighed softly bending down to my level. "Go on, Bunny. I'll tuck you in."

When I got on the mattress and pulled the little blanket he gave me over my legs. He sat beside me and rubbed his thumb over my forehead. "I won't ever let you go, you know that?"

He covered my eyes, I heard a rustling and a kiss on my head, he took off his mask though he covered my eyes I still felt his warm breath on my forehead. Another rustle was heard until he uncovered my eyes. his mask was back on.

"I'll sit right over here until you fall asleep, okay Bunny?" His voice was soft as he crouched down against the wall on the far left from the mattress. 

[littlemissthunderstorms]

can’t keep my feelings in disguise

synopsis: alex comforts you when you’re sad, basically just fluff.

humbug era alex turner x fem reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

———

you huffed as you slammed your car door shut. the air was cool and crisp, the smell of rain radiated off of the pavement as it softly pattered, the fresh smell soothing your senses a bit. your teary eyes shimmered, reflecting the soft twinkly lights of the lamp posts that were scattered along the street.

you attempted to take a couple deep breaths, wiping the tears that distorted your vision. everything had been downhill lately. you were so stressed, work was piling up. your closest friends had been distant, going to events without you, and overall just not talking to you as much. everything just sucked and you were exhausted.

you sniffled as you fumbled with your keys, hastily unlocking the front door and slamming it shut behind you. you slid against the door, sitting on the carpet and burying your face in your arms, finally letting yourself get a good cry out. you sat there for a minute, sniffling and gasping as you sobbed, hugging your knees.

you looked up when you heard a sweet voice mumble your name from the bottom of the staircase. you couldn’t see well with your teary vision, yet you knew it was alex.

you wiped your eyes as he made his way over to you. the boy sat in front of you on his knees and took your tired arms, wrapping them around his neck as he hugged you close, whispering a gentle “cm’ere.”

you entangled one of your hands in his soft long hair, burying your face into his neck as you cried. alex kissed the top of your head, holding you so close he could feel your heartbeat. he crumbled at the state you were in, it broke his heart seeing you cry. he knew things were tough for you lately and he wished he could just fix everything but it was out of his control. all he could do was be there for you, whatever you needed.

alex pulled away slightly, cupping your face with one hand, soothingly rubbing your back with the other. you exhaled shakily, trying to calm down a bit. he leaned forward, kissing your tears away, wiping the ones he couldn’t reach with his thumb. you melted into his touch, heart fluttering.

pulling him closer, you planted a sweet kiss on his lips. alex entwined his fingers with yours, brown doe eyes gazing into yours. “d’ya wanna go upstairs?” he smiled softly, kissing your cheek. you nodded, grabbing both of alex’s hands so he could help you stand up.

once you stood up, alex pulled you into another tight embrace, softly stroking your hair. “i love you.” he mumbled into your shoulder. you sniffled. “i love you too.” pulling away, you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, mustering a soft smile to show your gratitude. alex kissed you once more, taking your hand and leading you upstairs soon after.

———

after you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and changed into your pajamas you headed back into your room where alex sat in bed, quietly reading. you’d missed his warm presence already, quickly snuggling up to him in bed. alex put his book down on the nightstand, holding you to his chest.

the room was adorned in lamps, the incandescent glow soothing and cozy. the anxious thoughts and somber feelings slowly seeped in again, tears trickling down your face. alex turned over so he was facing you. he cupped your face in both of his hands, kissing your face. “you’re not allowed to be sad anymore, i won’t accept it.” he mumbled, nudging his nose into your cheek.

the corners of your mouth curved up as alex kept pressing kisses all over your face, eventually speeding them up until you giggled. he smiled, pulling away and grabbing your hand. “are you busy tomorrow?”

“no, why?” you replied. alex played with your hair, winding strands around his fingers and watching as they uncurled when he let go. “i wanna take you out. i won’t be in the studio tomorrow so i think we should have a special day. just me and you. we can go to your favorite bookstores, i’ll take you shopping, whatever you want honey.” he leaned in, kissing you gently. “how does that sound?”

you smiled. “i’d love that.” alex grinned back at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to press a sweet kiss to it. “great. it’s a plan!” you stared adoringly at him, in awe that he was yours. the boy stared back at you silently for a moment too, still softly grinning. “i love you.” you whispered. “i love you lots.” he whispered back. your heavy eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, you didn’t realize how exhausted you were.

“you look sleepy.” alex laughed softly. “i’m going to turn the lights off so we can get some rest.” he hopped out of bed, clicking all the lamps off until the room was bathed in a comforting darkness. alex sighed sleepily as he joined you. he pulled the soft comforter over you both, his body warm as it pressed against you. your heart fluttered softly, little actions like him cuddling close to you still sure to give you butterflies.

your sleepy eyes fluttered shut once more, your body feeling relaxed and tranquil. starlight shimmered through the slits of the curtains as the fan whirred softly in the background. alex kissed your forehead. “you’re so amazing. i don’t know if i tell you enough. you’re so good to me. i’ve never loved anyone this much.” alex whispered. “get some rest sweet girl.” he kissed your hair, resting his arm across your waist.

you hugged him close. you loved his accent, the way he spoke to you so sweet and soft when you were sad made you fall in love with him all over again. your anxieties were insignificant in his presence, helping to lull you into a calm, peaceful slumber.

———

sorry this sucks, working on cooler things!!!

hope you have a wonderful day!

[jellybear455]

My love will never die - Jack Sparrow x reader

Summary: Jack trades you for his life. He promises to be there when your ten year sentence is up.

Warnings: Jack is not the good guy here, friends. Rough treatment of reader, unrequited love, heartbreak, angst, a singular swear.

Inspired by Davy Jones by Fia Orädd

I'm considering making this inspired by a song thing a series. I really enjoy doing it. Anyway I hope you enjoy this delicious crunchy angst.

---

"Don't let them take me! Please, please!" I screamed and cried and kicked and punched, struggling to escape the iron grips of the men on either side of me. "God, please! Jack!"

Jack stood on the dock, his back to the shore and hands in his pockets. He did not flinch as my hands were bound in thick iron chains. He did not blink when I screamed at him to take me home, please just get me out of here.

A hand clamped over my mouth, and without thinking, I sunk my teeth into the calloused flesh. The man yelled, withdrawing his hand and slapping me across the face with it. His blood dripped down my cheek, mixing with my tears.

"You bitch!" He screeched. Wiping his hand on his shirt.

"Just let me say goodbye," I sobbed. "I won't run, I won't run I promise..."

The other man snapped shackles on the ankles and gave them a tug. "What ever, sweetheart. But if you so much as look in the wrong direction I'll-"

I didn't stick around to hear the rest. I half ran, half waddled down the dock and threw myself into the arms of my lover, sobbing into his shoulder. "Don't let them take me." I begged.

"I have to. I will be here when you get back." Jack's voice was smooth and calm, like it always was. Usually it was reassuring, but now I was unnerving.

"Aren't you afraid, Jack?" I cried. "Aren't you sad that I'm going away?"

His hands rested against my hips casually. "Of course, darling. But I must not let myself feel it, because I won't be able to let you leave if I do."

"Don't let me leave, Jack, take me home... take me home." I croaked, voice hoarse from screaming. I could hear one of the men stomping up the dock behind me, and I grasped his shirt desperately. "Kiss me, Jack. Please." "No." He replied, firmly and sharply.

"Jack-" The man grabbed my arm painfully. "No, no no, Jack... Jack, please just kiss me one more time."

Jack could not look in my eyes. "Take her away."

"NO!" I screamed and screamed as I was dragged up the dock again. I screamed until after I had been locked away below deck, and I no longer could see the dock out the small window. Then I cried until my eyes were red and I could nor cry anymore.

---

Ten years. That was the time I had to serve aboard the ship. Jack had said the wrong thing to the wrong guy. The price he had to play was me. Ten years of my hard labour, or they would take his life.

It was not a hard decision. I would have cut out my own heart for Jack. But I did not think I could survive ten years without him close.

I had been at sea for nine years, eleven months and thirteen days, and finally- finally- we had docked. I was home. Home to Jack. I ran down the dock, and this time I was not shackled. I ran until my bare feet hit pavement, then stopped. Jack was not here.

More slowly this time, I ventured back up the dock, looking more closely at the fisherman nearby. None of them were Jack. He told me he'd wait for me.

Tears filled my eyes as I remember Jack, my Jack. Who could never truly show how he felt, not even to me. Who could never tell me he loved me for fear that I would leave. I didn't need him to say it, though. I knew that he loved me. He never said it words, but he showed it in actions. The way he would glare at any other men who glanced my way. How he would take away my bottle of rum when I had had too much. How he would leave food on the desk in his cabin when I slept in.

He loved me. So why wasn't he here now? Maybe he was late. Jack was always late. But he always showed. Mostly. I concentrate on my list of things Jack does to show he loves me, but the more I think about it the more I see.

He would glare at the men that glanced at me when I wasn't looking, but then he would spent half the night staring at another woman's breasts. He would take my rum when I got to tipsy, but then would down the bottle himself and leave me to stumble across the deck into his cabin. He would leave food aside if I was still sleeping when he ate, but would yell that he was looking forward to having it as his lunch.

Jack didn't love me. He never did. I just made myself believe he did. He let me believe he did. I think back to the day they took me. Jack told me he hated to see me go. But he wouldn't kiss me. He did not mourn. I had spent the last ten years pining over a man who couldn't think twice about my feelings.

A dull, throbbing pain pulsed through my chest, and an unsettling rage nestled in my gut. I would make him pay for what he had done. The time he had taken from me.

I once would have cut out my own heart for Jack, but I did not have to. He had torn it to shreds.

---

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Calming Waves

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After finding out Omega has been taken for the third time, you and Hunter must comfort each other. Set at the end of s.3 ep.11

A/N- I AM FERAL FOR THIS MAN!!!!! It didn't turn out exactly how I wanted. The idea wasn't as fresh in my head as I would have liked. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Word Count- 1,439

Your chest heaved, desperate for air as you ran. Your feet hurt from how hard they were hitting the pavement. The Empire ships were leaving, that meant either two things.

Omega was dead, or Omega was taken.

Tears burned your eyes as you still raced for the top of Pabu where Shep's home was. That was the designated hideout.

You were close to hyperventilating, but seeing the humble cottage in the distance gave you the last boost you needed. You had to know what happened.

With a fury you didn't know you had, you slammed the door open.

"Where is she!" You yelled out when you saw only Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair.

Hunter was the first to face you, his own eyes glossy. He said nothing, just pulled you into a tight hug.

With realization you sobbed. If it wasn't for Hunter holding you up, you would have fallen.

You cried and cried, Crosshair could only look down in shame.

"Shhh, Shhh, we will find her..." You managed to catch your breath at his reassuring words. Hunter rubbed your back soothingly, even though he was barely hanging on himself.

"What... What happened?" You stood by yourself again, tears still silently falling. You wiped them away violently.

All eyes turned to Crosshair at your question. You noticed and followed their gazes. "What did you do?" You asked, words laced with poison.

"She, Omega, she gave herself up." He revealed, your heart sank again. She was so brave...

With a single stride forward- SLAP!

Your hand stung, bad. You just hoped Crosshairs cheek hurt worse. Your stare sent daggers to him.

He saw the hit coming, he really did. He just agreed that he deserved it, letting you deliver the blow.

"And you let her? You were supposed to protect her!" You pressed, unable to grasp how he could do such a thing.

"She.... She felt guilty, all of the lives that were going to be lost-"

"Do you think I give hell about anyone else?" You argued. "If we start to think about strangers, then we'd all be dead."

He looked remorseful, but not apologetic. "Omega saw the bigger picture."

This set you off, grabbing your blaster from its holster. "She is a child," a sob threatened, "She is too busy seeing the good in people to know how much bad there truly is."

Wrecker sat silent, watching. He was still injured from the bomb.

You weren't actually going to shoot him, in your fury you just acted irrationally. Hunter knew this as well, but still came to your side.

His hand wrapped around yours, gently lowering your weapon and hand.

"I can't even look at you right now..." At that, you turned on your heel. You didn't exactly know where you were going, just that you needed some air.

Hunter was at your side, a hand trying to wrap around your hip. "No, just leave me alone. I cannot believe this!" You pushed his hand away, admittedly harsh.

"I won't let you run off. We need to stick together right now." He managed to grip your wrist, you let him.

You sighed deeply, "Then come with me."

"Always..." He moved his hand down to grasp yours lovingly.

While the thought of marching back in and demanding a plan crossed your mind- Wrecker was hurt and you had no ship. The best you could do was wait for Echo or Phee to return your messages. Your mind still wandered at ways to find her.

You found yourself at the shoreline, right by Omegas hideaway cave. You didn't mean to stop there, but you guessed your subconscious wanted to be closer to her.

With a puff you sat down in the sand, hands mindlessly feeling the grain beneath you.

Hunter stood by your side, still on guard. You, however, were too worn out to care anymore.

"Three times..." You stated, not looking up. The wind blew your hair back. It could have been a scene from a holo-movie. The light breeze only made your heart ache more. The countless times you'd spent in this every spot with Omega grieved you.

"I know." You could hear him shuffle. You only responded by bringing your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

With a sniffle, you'd decided to speak again. "I hope she's not too scared. Even if it was her choice to hand herself over, she must still be scared." Tears welled at the thought of her.

Hunter moved forward, squatting down to rest a hand on your shoulder. "She's a tough girl." Silence again.

You knew she was tough, but the 'biggest' and 'strongest' of men wavered at The Empire. What could a single girl do against a whole Imperial army?

Hunter tried to ease your nerves, "We've done it twice before, we will save her again. Her and the other captured clones." This only fueled your anger.

"And then what?" You snapped, jerking your head up at him. "The Empire will never stop looking for her! They will just come again and again."

He looked down, avoiding your gaze.

"Hunter, I just want to be normal." You rested your face in your hands, still leaning on your knees. "Is that bad? To not have anyone after us. Just you, me, Omega...I mean, of course the guys too..."

"No. No, not at all." He said.

Your shoulders shook with your crying. "I'm sorry, i'm trying to keep it all together." You said messily, wiping your eyes.

At this, he finally embraced you. Pulling you completely into his arms. You were practically in his lap. He tucked your head into his shoulder.

"I just want our daughter back." You sobbed out, holding onto Hunter hopelessly.

"Even if it is the last thing I do, I will bring Omega home. We will bring her home." He pet your head gently, his calm and serious voice started to soothe you.

Your voice was muffled by his skin, but you spoke on. "I am so tired of running."

"I know, me too."

You both just held each other for awhile, the sound of the waves helped you steady your breathing.

Hunter broke the silence. "After this, after we save her... I think we should all disappear."

"Disappear?" You questioned, even though you were sure what he meant.

"Wouldn't be too hard to fake our deaths." He said stoically, staring across the water.

You leaned up at this, shuffling so you could look at him. "What about all of your connections? Phee, Shep, I mean-" You sighed, "...We can't tell them can we?"

"It's like you said, when we start to think about strangers we risk ourselves." He was turning cold.

You eventually agreed, resting your head back on his collarbone.

"We've got an incoming message from Phee." You both heard over Hunter's comms.

"Headed your way." Hunter replied.

He squeezed you a last time, hands still on you gently. "Let's go, talking to Phee will bring us a step closer to Omega."

You nodded, heart swelling when Hunter reached down to swipe the last of your tears away.

You pulled back, touching the sand with your hand a last time. Your tears were dried, all that was left was fury. A fury that could rival The Empire.

After talking with Phee, she agreed that she would head your way. You hoped she wouldn't mind helping you four, just until Echo could fetch a ship.

Tension was high, you all waited for her to arrive. Crosshair kept looking your way, but you didn't return it.

You had thought about your exchange, and was feeling pretty guilty. You knew Crosshair wanted Omega safe, that he was only doing what he thought was right.

"Crosshair?" You called out to him, he stood at his name.

"Can we talk outside?" He nodded and followed you.

The two of you leaned over the railing outside of Shep's house. Both looking over to the water. "I'm sorry-" He started, but you interrupted.

"No, I'm sorry. I know it was Omegas idea. Her heart is too big to watch the people of Pabu get taken. I.. I wasn't actually going to shoot you.." You fiddled with your fingers, ashamed.

"I know. I'd have done the same. She, she just wants to make everyone happy." You smiled at his words, the description of her bringing you comfort.

You leaned closer to him, nudging his shoulder. "I might have a way to find the Tantiss coordinates."

You ushered him back inside, perfect timing to see Phee approaching. A plan was soon demised. You'd find a way back to Omega, no matter what.

A/N- Okay, let's be real. Hunter was not as mad as he should have been about losing Omega FOR THE THIRD TIME! That is my excuse for writing this! Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[sweethartlullaby]

was it worth it?

word count: 684 genre/theme: angst, dating as a bet as always, imagine whoever you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

He sees her standing there, and his heart drops. The cash roll is slipping through his fingers but he cannot bring himself to tighten his hold. 

He opens his mouth to call her but she’s already out, and the bell ringing signals her exit. He takes a heavy step towards her but she’s already running and getting smaller in his vision. Before he can think, he’s already running after her down the street. 

He yells her name when she’s back in sight, but she doesn’t stop. The streets are emptier, and the pavement still smells wet from the rain earlier tonight. 

He shouts as he picks his speed up, determined to catch up to her. He has to explain, he has to get his side of the story out to her. He can’t let her leave with the thought that she is nothing to him. 

He keeps chasing her, and the smaller alleys make him nervous. But she won’t stop and he has to get to her. And it’s not just because he needs to explain himself, but he doesn’t think it’s safe for her to be alone here. He finally pushes himself to run to her, and he grabs her wrist before turning her to face him.

“Listen to me.” She won’t face him, but he sees her tear-streaked face and his heart breaks.

“You lied to me.” She murmurs, and he loosens his hold on her small wrist, but not letting her go.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then, what is it like? You didn’t date me for money?” She nudges her chin towards the cash in his other hand. Wordless, he almost loses his grip on her. But he remembers that this is about more than that. She is worth more than the amount he holds. She has to know.

“Why me? Why couldn’t you just break another girl’s heart and stay out of my life? Why approach me?” She sobs. 

He remembers the day he asked her out when it was just a bet at the time. He didn’t need the money, but he couldn’t forever be seen as the boy who can’t speak to a girl. So his eyes searched the room until they stopped at her. The girl he always had an eye for but could never find the right words for.

Yet that day, he didn’t know what came over him as he approached her; as if he had done it a million times. He opened his mouth to introduce himself but the words got caught in his throat and her friends started giggling amongst themselves. Yet, she just smiled at him. 

She introduces herself.

He does the same, with a nervous grin. 

“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and that was the beginning. 

And now, it is all in shambles in front of him. How can he explain himself? Anything he says will sound like an excuse.

“Did you ever even like me?” She asks, disappointment clear in her voice.

“Yes, I did. Please,” He gets closer to her, as he begs her with everything he is.

“This is real. You and I, we are real to me.” He whispers and brings her face up to his. But all he sees is anger and agony and his hand trembles despite his effort to hold his ground. She releases herself from his grip and shakes her head.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” She hisses, and time suddenly freezes. He hopes that he’s dreaming because he can’t find a way out of this otherwise. He chokes on every word he wants to scream and he watches as she slips into the darkness again, leaving him to mourn in the silence by himself. He can’t feel anything, not the ghost of her hand still in his, not the warmth of her body next to him, not the tears on his cheeks, not the numbness about to swallow him whole. 

He stands there, helpless as the woman he wants forever with walks away from him. And the worst part is that it is all his fault. 

a/n: hello!! i made a few changes to my blog and i added a masterlist which i will pin! you will be able to find all my works there. i hope you enjoyed this and since i am on a break right now, i am trying to write as much as possible so that i can just post those stories later on! thank you so much for your support and for reading. i hope you enjoyed!

[simpforboys]

30 with sad angsty rafe cameron😙 my fav

30. “I’m not enough for you, and I never will be.”

your eyes were glossed with tears as your lip trembled.

"i just- i can't do this anymore, y/n."

rafe's voice was broken as he stared down at you, his heart breaking in his chest. he hated seeing you cry, always have and probably always will.

"i don't understand why..." you trailed off. you were hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort your body and emotions.

rafe bit his tongue. he so badly wanted to tell you the real reason, but he couldn't for your safety.

"there's someone else."

you accidentally let out a choked sob at his words. it felt like he grabbed your heart and crumbled it in front of you.

and all rafe wanted to do was to hug you, and tell you he's sorry and he doesn't mean it, but he knew his dad was watching his every move from the window of tannyhill.

you two stood in the driveway after rafe had texted you to come over, only to find out your boyfriend of one year was breaking up with you.

"is she richer? prettier?" your voice was coarse as it cracked, each word feeling like a punch to the gut.

rafe didn't get to answer before you spoke again.

"never mind. y'know, throughout our whole relationship i always doubted if i was good enough for you. what the hell would rafe cameron, kook prince, want with me? but i began to reassure myself after a year that maybe i was good enough, maybe we're meant to be. but apparently i'm not enough for you, and i never will be."

rafe held back his tears as he watched you get back into your car, watching as the tires disappeared as you turned left.

he broke down into a sob as he ran his hands through his hair, squatting down on the pavement as he cried.

he didn't want this, but his father was becoming more aggressive with the cross, and he knew it was the best decision.

but he began to question his previous ideas as he went through his first heartbreak, and he swore to himself that when this was all over, he was going to marry you and never make you feel like this ever again.