Alive [ohmtoonz] [drabble]

Teeny tiny lil drabble for y'all, a little different than my normal style I think, idk if I like it or not but oh well :-) prompt came from @screamzwithgoatz though I did change it up a bit from what they suggested

They felt alive.

The shops had closed an hour ago, and the parking lot was vacant. Few trolleys lay in bunches on the sectioned pavement; not a soul in sight as the two men walked side by side to the nearest trolley, hands shoved in their pockets. Grinning ear to ear, the smaller of the pair jumped into the trolley and held onto the sides while the taller grabbed onto the handle.

Laughter filled the crisp, silent air as the trolley flew across the parking lot with the pair holding on tight. Happiness and content filled their bodies from head to toe, enjoying the rush that it gave them as the wind flew through their hair. Times like these are what they enjoyed the most. Enjoying each other’s company and feeling like they did back in their youth.

Red and blue lights flashed brightly against the dark of the night, and a loud siren was heard for a few moments before the pair saw a car turn into the parking lot. Hearts pumping and breathing erratic, the pair jumped away from the trolley and ran as far and fast as they could.

With the sounds of sirens and an engine not too far away from their persons the couple weaved in and out of alley ways and over fences, laughter filling the air as they managed to escape the authorities.

With blood rushing through their veins, the bearded man gently pushed the smaller male backwards so his back hit the brick wall and cupped his cheeks, both of them having smiles plastered onto their faces and their heavy breaths mixed together in the cold air.

“We’re gonna get caught one day,” the smaller man said, placing his hands on the bearded man’s hips.

“They can’t do shit to us, it’s not illegal,” the bearded man grinned before placing his lips onto his lover’s. The rush from the adrenaline fuelled their love even further as the sound of sirens faded away, and all their attention was on the other.

Wandering hands covered every inch of skin and muffled moans escaped chapped lips as they made the most of their time. Gentle touches in soft areas made knees weak and heartbeats accelerate, and the pair wouldn’t have it any other way.

They felt alive.

#4 He Hits/Hurts You (Requested - Part Two)

so so so so so so sorry this took so long! i hope it was worth the wait!

Part One

Harry: Sixty-three deleted text messages. Twenty-nine ignored calls. Nineteen heartbreaking voicemails that you didn’t have the strength to listen to. All from him.

You scrolled through the call log on your phone, sighing as his name was repeated on your screen again and again. You sniffled, throwing your phone on the guest bed before making your way out of the room for the first time in what felt like months, only the reality was that it had only been two days. 

You trudged down the stairs, hair a mess and positive that your face was red and puffy. You hadn’t stopped crying since you arrived at your best friend’s flat. When you entered the kitchen, you’re eyes widened. There, at the kitchen table, sat Harry, hands entwined around a mug of coffee and staring at nothing certain. His head shot up when he heard you clear your throat. 


“Where is she?” you interrupted him, by no means wanting to start a conversation.

“At the store,” he began, and it was then you could hear the strain in his voice, like he was doing the best he could to not completely fall apart right in front of you. “She invited me over… To talk, I think. She said you weren’t doing well.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, reaching up to smooth down your uncombed hair.

He paused, before speaking. “I’m not. I… What I did that night… It was horrible. I should have never laid my hands on you, or even yelled at you at all. I should have given you an explanation instead of going off like I did.” Now he was crying. He tried to hide it, but you could tell. “I have never hated myself more than I do right now, and I want you to know how sorry I am. I love—No, need. I need you, (Y/N). And I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I needed you to know that. So…” He waited a moment for you to say something—anything—but you didn’t. You remained still, staring at the floor. “…I’ll go.” 

With that, he stood, and began making his way past you, before you rested your hand of his arm. “Wait,” you whispered. “I need you too, as much as I hate to admit it, I do. But that doesn’t excuse what you did. But… I’m willing to try to get past it,” you said, watching as his broken features lightened and a smile broke out onto his face.

“Really?” he gaped.

“Well, it’ll take some time, but yes. Really,” you smiled, hugging him. 

“I’m so sorry. I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered.

You nodded, closing your eyes and nuzzling into his chest.

Liam: Nearly five hours had passed until you finally built up the emotional strength to rise from your safe place on the floor and drag your aching body downstairs. And it wasn’t aching because of your back that had so violently hit the wall; it was your heart that carried the most burden. 

Shuffling down the stairs and into the living area, you suddenly heard small, broken sobs coming from the couch. Creeping toward the weeping figure, you whispered, “Liam?”

His head shot up, revealing two red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “(Y/N)?” he breathed, his voice cracking. 

You nodded, but didn’t dare to go near him. You wanted to, but fear struck your body and you found yourself unable to move.

He repeated your name, before standing and walking toward you carefully. You stumbled back. Sorrow struck his features as realization sunk in. “You’re afraid of me… Aren’t you?” he whispered, and you were positive you wouldn’t have heard him had it not been so eerily quiet in your flat. You didn’t say a word. Then, he choked on a sob, and started crying in front of you.

You didn’t want to be afraid of him, but you couldn’t help it. However, the mere thought of him upset broke your heart even more. Hesitantly, you crept forward, delicately wrapping him in your arms. He melted into your embrace, crying heavily on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. You reassuringly rubbed his back, and you both knew that somehow you would make it through this.

Louis: After what felt like hours of crying on the bathroom floor, you gave yourself a small pep-talk and stood to examine yourself in the mirror. Just what you thought. Smudged mascara, swollen eyes, and the evident red mark across your cheek. You whimpered, lightly touching the soon-to-be-bruise with your cold fingertips. 

Emerging the bathroom, you ran as fast as you could to your bedroom, praying to God that Louis was well gone by now. You opened the door, and felt your heart sink when you saw him, sitting on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. He looked up as he heard the door open.

“(Y/N), I’m such a fucking idiot. Forgive me?” he asked. 

You were shocked. “F-Forgive you? Louis, you hit me! I can’t just let this go, this is a big deal!” you yelled, fear suddenly replaced with anger. 

“I—” he began, but you cut him off. 

“No, listen to me. You can’t just call yourself an idiot and expect my forgiveness. You have to find a better way to apologize if you ever want to see me again, because that won’t cut it.”

He closed his gaping mouth, and nodded quickly. “Let me make it up to you,” he finally said.

You narrowed your eyes. “How?”

“Um… I don’t know. I’ll think of something amazing. Just… I can’t lose you, okay? Please, just give me a chance. Don’t give up on us just yet.”

You sighed. “Fine. One chance, Louis, that’s all you get.”

He smiled. “Thank you.” He hugged you tightly, and despite your pain and anger, you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

Niall: “Stop walking away from me!” he shouted, trying to keep calm but failing miserably. You could tell the buzz from the alcohol was wearing off quickly, but not completely as he struggled to keep up with your fast past, tripping over chairs and stumbling past other people in the bar. “(Y/N), please! Stop!”

You quickly turned to face him, not caring about the tears rushing down your face. “What the hell do you need to say to me?” you cried.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his voice quieter now.

“Sorry isn’t going to work this time, Niall. This is over,” you said, waving your hand back and forth in between your two bodies.

“What… What do you mean?” he whispered, his angered state completely washed away now, and his eyes becoming glossy.

You paused for a moment, shaking your head, until you found the right words. “I love you, Niall. But… This won’t work. You hit me… You hit me,” you repeated as the words really sunk in and you began to sob harder.

Niall’s face mirrored yours as tears fell down his pink cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. 

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Then you left him broken hearted in the bar’s parking lot.

Zayn: Change of plans. You were running to your flat, when the thought occurred to you that once you got there, it would only be a matter of time before Zayn showed up, meaning you’d have to face him again. So you took a left instead of a right, and ran to the town’s children’s playground where you sat on a small, sad swing for two and a half hours. Eventually, though, your phone died after the battery was drained by Zayn’s dozens of phone calls (all of which, of course, you ignored).

You stood, slowing walking to your flat, enjoying what was left of this peace before you had to face him. 

Opening your door, you stumbled in to find Zayn pacing back and forth in the living area, tugging aggressively at the roots of his hair. He whirred around as he heard the gentle click of the door closing behind you. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, letting go of his firm grasp on his hair.

“Where were you? I’ve been so worried,” he cried, approaching you. You took a few steps back until you hit the wall.

His face fell. “C’mon… Please don’’t be afraid of me.” You took note of how his voice cracked and his eyes watered as he took in your fragile figure.

“I am,” you barely whispered.

“Your wrists,” he gasped, eyeing the soft blue bruises. You only nodded.

“Baby…” He came closer to you, and this time you stayed frozen. As he reached up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ears, you flinched, causing him even more pain. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I was two minutes away from calling the police. Please let me just hold you for a minute.”

You stayed quiet. He took that as an opportunity to take you into a strong embrace, and it was then, with your head buried in his chest, that you felt his body shake with small sobs. It broke your heart. “Zayn…” you whispered.

“Yeah?” he shakily said.

“Just come to bed with me.” And he did, no questions asked.

thank’s for reading! send feedback, and request more! if you want a part 3 on niall’s, just let me know!


anonymous asked:

Hello! If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe do the hosts reactions if they found out their s/o was in an accident of some sort? (Crash, explosion, whatever you want) Also your blog is amazing and so are you ily

awww thank you sweetie, means a lot ♥

Tamaki: Immediately starts asking questions, “What do you mean there was a fire?” “Is ____ alright?” He’s probably yelling and there are definitely tears in his eyes, threatening to fall onto his cheeks. Calls your phone 1000000 times until he finally gets some information as to where you are and what your condition is.  

Kyoya: He’s probably already at the hospital, working, when the ER team brings you in. His eyes go wide, letting go of his usual expresssionless demeanor as he runs to your side. “What happens?” He demands, voice catching on the bile in his throat. You couldn’t be hurt. It wasn’t possible. “Please, please be okay.” He doesn’t leave your side the entire time the medics are treating you, clutching your hand in his, his knuckles white with force.

Mori: He doesn’t say anything when he gets the call. His phone simply falls from his hand as he bolts from wherever he was, vaguely excusing himself as he makes his way to his car, endless situations running through his head as he prays for you to be okay, speeding through traffic, trying to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Honey: When he gets the call, everything stops. He excuses himself from his meeting, stands and starts running towards the parking lot, heart pounding in his chest. He gets to the hospital, demanding to see you, tears in his eyes. “Where is ____-chan? I need to see _____ immediately!”

Hikaru: “What do you mean, there’s been an accident? Is _____ okay? Is ____ okay? I, I need to - I’ll be right there, I have to see that ____ is okay,” He can feel his chest tightening up with anger and with worry, tears prickling and threatening to fall. Dammit, ____, please don’t leave me like this.

Kaoru: When his phone rings, he’s not expecting what he hears on the other end. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Alright, thank you.” He isn’t sure how he keeps his voice from wavering when his hands are shaking and his heart pounding in his ears. When he gets to the hospital, he’s barely able to ask for you, his throat is thick with tears and worry,

Washing my mouth of you.
Brushing until my gums bleed.
Sink is a cloud of pink
and my tongue is metal in my mouth.
Brushing until you become 
the open wound, not the salt.

I bit my nails to the tender today.
I took 53 pictures of my lips and
wished I had a stranger to send them to,
a stranger who would recognize them
as ones he once wanted to kiss.

I wonder if anyone has ever wanted to climb
the hill my eyes make when they close.
I wonder if falling in love is bullshit.
If it’s just another store with only one size
or chocolates that go on sale the day after Valentine’s.

I wonder if falling out of love
is not just another way of saying,
‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t think
this was a wonderful idea when he looked at me
like I was first snowfall and I answered with
hands to his cheeks like church bells.’

I forgive myself for you.
This heart is underground parking lot
where all the cars start at once,
a hundred engines rumbling softly like belly laughs.

That is where the laugh is born.
Underground. Between the lungs.
Inside the inside.
That is where I learn to snap my neck to the sky
and be the kind of happy that made you
weak in the first place.

—  Back to Basics | Ramna Safeer