#’can’t break my courage and i won’t fall’

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Had an idea. Wrote a thing. Enjoy 🩶

*****

He walked away across the sand before stopping and turning to face Tommy. “Because I’m in love with you!” He yelled out. “And don’t even think about telling me I’m wrong about how I feel.” He turned again to face the ocean as he continued, not letting Tommy have the chance to reply. It was finally his chance to let out everything he was feeling since Tommy had broken up with him. “God, ya know I am sick of everybody telling me how I feel or what I want or what to do as if I’m not a god damn fucking grown man! Just once i would like someone to actually trust that I know how I feel and that I know what I want.” His chest was heaving as he walked back towards Tommy stopping a few feet away looking him directly in the eyes. “Because I do.”

Tommy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed before speaking. “And what is it you want?”

“You, Tommy.” He replied immediately. “It’s always been you—it will always be you. And-and despite what you’ve convinced yourself, you are my last. Even if you don’t believe it. Even if-if I ended up married to someone else and have found some semblance of happiness—you will still be my last. I will never live a happier life than the one I could live with you. You were not some shiny new toy after I discovered my sexuality. Or-or some exciting right of passage along a journey of self discovery. You’re the love of my life, Tommy. And you may not have the courage to believe it but I have the courage to say it. Even if it changes nothing. Even if you decide to walk away again. Because I’m right. And deep down you know I’m right, too.”

Finally Buck left some space in the air around them for Tommy to speak and he wasted no time.

“Of course you’re right, Evan! About all of it. About everything!” Tommy stood up from the bench and began to pace. “I’m not confused about how I feel or how you feel. I do trust you to know how you feel—it was never about that.”

“Then what is it about?!”

“I’m terrified, Evan! I am so fucking scared of losing you! I never thought in a million years that I would fall in love let alone feel like my existence on this earth depends on someone else breathing. Everything in me exists for you. Every beat of my heart, every pump of blood through my veins, every breath in my lungs exists solely for you!”

He’d kept himself together, somehow, over the last 4 months—not a single tear shed. But now, standing on a desolate beach screaming at one another, the seal broke and the tears flowed.

“If something happened to you, or us it would be the thing that breaks me, Evan. I need you to understand that. I-“

“I do understand that!” Buck interrupted. “And don’t you think I’m scared too?! You think I’ve ever felt like this about anybody before? Tommy, every single person I have loved has left me at some point. Including you. And yet here I am still holding on to some shred of hope that you’ll be the one person to actually fight for me.”

“I want to, I-“

Buck closed the distance between them and took Tommys hands hoping to God that he would let him. He took a deep breath to calm his voice.

“Tommy, I can’t promise you a long and happy life with me. But I can’t promise you that I wont get in a car accident on the way to work tomorrow, either. Or that my apartment building won’t burn down or that you won’t get killed on the job.. Because nobody can promise that. Nobody knows what’s gonna happen in the future. All we can do, all I can do, is promise you that I will do everything that I can do to make you happy; to make us happy.” He tilted his head up towards the sky and blinked in an attempt to dry out his eyes before looking back at Tommy.

“I love you. And-and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that.” He released one of Tommys hands and used his knuckle to gently wipe the tears from Tommys cheeks. Tommy closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the feeling of Evan’s comfort.

“Do..” Tommy’s throat was raw from the yelling and thick with emotion. “Do you promise?” He felt embarrassed by how meek and small he sounded.

But he couldn’t fight Evan anymore. More importantly he couldn’t fight himself anymore. Evan was the love his life. He could no longer deny it. He’d likely never not feel some kind of fear that it would all blow up on his face but he had no fight in him left.

Buck squeezed his hands.

“Yes. I promise.” Buck smiled softly through wet lashes.

“I love you so fucking much.” Tommy breathed and took Bucks face in his hands, kissing him so firmly Buck was forced back a step. Buck immediately kissed back; his hands all over Tommy—face, neck, shoulders, waist, arms.. any available space on Tommy’s body he could get under his fingertips in an effort to hold him in place and having no intention of ever letting him go again.

[thewitchoftheweed]

not to make everything about my blorbos but “Blood Sweat & Tears” from the Arcane soundtrack is literally just how I interpret Shamura.

The line “And I starve till there’s no more mouths to feed” is especially Red Star coded. 👀

[dollarbils]

but baby, i | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

warnings. angst, fluff, suggestive

masterlist

‘if you go, i’m going too’

a sigh of relief was heard on the other end of the phone when you’d pressed the green button, spilling out a hesitant ‘hello’ as you held the phone up to your ear. There was no response however, lighting up a flame of irritation in you.

“Who is this?” was the next thing that fell from your lips, laced with hostility.

“baby,” it was quiet, soft and inviting. Emotions from the previous couple months all encompassed into the term of endearment.

“billie?” your voice softened at the realisation of who it was.

“deleted my number already have you?” she teased, but it didn’t make you smile, not in this moment.

“billie, what happened? are you okay?” the questions tumbled out in an attempt to comprehend the reason for her call. it had been a week since you’d broken up, and hearing her voice felt like you’d been taken back to last Friday.

“yeah no, nothing happened, i’m fine. i just..” she trailed off, gathering the courage to speak, or the bravery to do the right thing, and hang up. but she was weak, and so were you.

“yeah?” it was a plea for her to continue. a beg for her to speak the words you couldn’t.

“i miss you baby.” your eyes drifted shut, a flush rising to your cheeks.

“billie, this isn’t a good idea.” it was the truth neither of you wanted to hear.

“i don’t care.” she whined, desperation clear in her words.

“billie don’t say that.” she let out a sigh of frustration at your words.

“i know you missed me too, this week has been the shittiest week you could imagine.” and suddenly you found yourself drifting into your usual conversation, like you would’ve a week ago.

“i’m sorry bils, how can i help?” it was a stupid question and you’d realised soon enough. all of this would eventually lead you back to her.

“you know how.” it was a confession in itself, revealing what she hoped to get from this call.

“tell me. whatever you need, i’ll do it.” you couldn’t reject her, not now, not ever. she had been everything for you, and she still was.

“come over, please.” her request was simple but it meant so much.

“are you sure?” her answer would decide your future, because it was clear what would happen if you complied with her wish.

“i need you.” those three words were deadly, they represented so many things all at once. they could be interpreted as multiple meanings.

“fuck,” it was a sigh of submission, giving in to her. and everything you’d previously given up. “i’ll be there in ten.”

‘cause it was always you’

the silence that followed the knock on her door, was deafening. leaving too much space for you to fall into the pit of doubt, that was still very much prominent. when the door finally opened, she stood in front of you, her perfect eyes attaching themselves to yours. then she smiled, engulfing you in a gentle hug, holding you as if you might break.

“billie.” it pulled her out of her state of daydreaming, grounding her with the realisation that this didn’t mean the beginning of a new chapter.

“i’m so sorry.” the apology was long overdue, but when she closed the door behind you, inviting you back in, none of that mattered.

“i know, but i need your promise, that we’ll be okay this time. i can’t go through breaking up with you again. i won’t survive it this time.” your throat closed up, signalling you to stop talking before your feelings spill out of your eyes, in front of her.

“of course angel, i understand. i’ll give you whatever you need.” she held your face in her hands, confirming her words at the slight rub of her thumb, over your cheeks.

“i need your devotion, your love.”

“but baby, i..” she paused for a second, pondering on wether her next words were ones she’d later regret. but she soon brushed the doubt away, releasing herself from its constraints, confessing her truth. “i’ll love you ‘til the day that i die.”

when she brought her lips to yours they were warm, inviting. they connected and moulded together as your bodies inched closer.

‘and if i’m turning blue, please don’t save me’

the heat from her breath, warming the patches of skin tainted by her tongue, as she ran it across your naked body. her lips attached to yours nipples, and then your clit. devoting herself to your pleasure. expressing her love for your body.

‘nothing left to lose, without my baby.’

and when your mind lost itself in her affection, focusing on her tongue buried deep inside you hole, you felt connected. birds of a feather destined to reach for each other in times of difficulty. destined to end up in each others’ embrace in times of despair.

‘we should stick together.’

[livelaughlovesubs]

Omgomg requests ya boi got an idea

Reader x shy clumsy incubus!Sigma

He's a new incubus and has no experience except pure instinct. Luckily, his first target (you) is sympathetic and willing to show him a good time. At first he's flustered and covering his face as you work him open, and by the end of the night, you have him shamelessly drooling and desperately grinding back into your thrusts as you grip his tail

It’s almost the same thing so I paired the two (I’m sorry to the anon for taking so long) anyway… AHHH MAN I STILL LOVE THIS BABY SM <3 he’s still my background! Partly cuz I’m too lazy to change it haha

Dom!reader x sub!Incubus!sigma - reader is gender neutral

Warning: no lube no protection, all night long, until he breaks (lol), saliva as lube, fingering, pegging (I use dick), taking virginity, biting, tail pulling

“Okay.. I can do it, it’s not difficult. I have to, otherwise I’ll starve…” sigma tried his best to pump up some confidence, staring at himself through the mirror. It’s been an entire years now since he became a fully pledged incubi, yet he hasn’t made any advances on any humans. Just look at him! He was all skin and bones! All this time he had to nurture himself through the emergency packs for his kind, in cases where they can’t come into contact with mortals.

The demon clenched his fists before starring at his to-do list. Written on it were the basics that were taught to him while he was still young. Tips and tricks on how to seduce humans, as well as the appropriate clothes or language to use. “You can do it, sigma..!” He said to himself while staring at his body. Then he slumped and sighed, “damn it.. would anyone find me attractive when I’m so slim? I heard muscles are in trend right now.” When he tried to clench his Bizeps, a look of horror washed over him. Those were noddle arms! He can’t hurt a fly like this!

“Don’t they also prefer the bold and confident type, like fyodor..?” He thought to himself. Despite his old acquaintance being just as- if not, weaker than him when it came to physical strength, he was doing way better than him. Many fell for his trickery and became his slave. Though it’s been a while since he saw him, has that man perhaps settled down on a specific person? Sounds unreasonable, it wasn’t like the fyodor he knew.

Nonetheless, it wouldn’t help him to worry about others when he was on the verge of losing it. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, he was too awkward to actually invade someone’s dreams! Again, what if that person doesn’t find him attractive? He’d lose every ounce of self respect if that happens. “No, don’t worry about it.. it will be fine, who would be able to resist the temptation of an incubus anyway?” He tried to reason with his subconscious one last time, finally mustering enough courage to seek someone out.

And that someone was you.

It was in the middle of the night when sigma decided to visit you. He snuck into your room with some simple magic, and started to climb onto your bed. Not on top of you though, only kneeling next to you. What if his weight woke you up, he doesn’t want to drag this out too much. “Ah.. a real human, they looks so peaceful, sleeping like this. They won’t wake up too soon right?” Sigma whispered, starring holes into your body. The boy desperately hoped you won’t wake up, since he wouldn’t know how to handle it. Yet he also kind of wished you would, so that he’d have a reason to return home empty handed.

“Okay, it’s now or never. Hah, I want it too after all. I’m so hungry.” As soon as he was ready, he reached his hand out to you, caressing your thighs. He wanted to get straight to business, hoping to end this as soon as possible when another hand shoot out of the darkness and grabbed his wrist. “Ahh!?” The incubi yelped, stumbling backwards, about to fall off the bed if it weren’t for his tail desperately wrapping around your torso for support. His instincts caused him to use his tail to stabilise himself. “What’s this?” Suddenly your voice reached his ears, poor guy didn’t even have time to breath when you pulled his wrists and made him fall back into your lap.

“IiiiKK..!! Wa-wait.. let go of me!” He panicked and tried to yank his hand away. “Hold up, you came into my room so suddenly, why does it seem like I’m the bad guy now?” You complained, then said, “also.. what is this.. leather? Rope?” After saying that, you poked his tail, making him shudder in surprise. “UghhH! Don’t touch that!” Sigma immediately yelled, a deep blush covered his face. “Hey, wait. What are you?” Finally you realised something was wrong and asked him that question, all while staring at his pretty face. He was so petite and cute, totally your type, but if he turned out to be a stalker you wouldn’t hesitate to make him pay.

To your surprise that person started crying, breaking down as he looked at you through wet lashes. “I’m so bad at this..! All I wanted was food! Let me go, I won’t come back ever again!” Then the guy with the two coloured hair hide his face in his hands, while fat tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. When you heard his comment, you took pity on him, not to mention the vulnerable state he was in. “You’re hungry.. Is that why you came here? I’m sorry to hear that, what do you want to eat then?” You tried to be kind to him, poor thing was starving. Seems like he was a thief who wanted to steal your food, but he accidentally found your bedroom instead. How clumsy…

“I- i… no, you wouldn’t do it with me anyway.” He shouted, making your ears bleed a little, “hey.. tune it down, and what do you mean?” Sigma covered his mouth with his palm, then said, “I need very special food.” You tilted your head, asking, “do I have it here?” Without thinking about it, he responded yes. So you commented, “if that’s the case you can take it.” The boy stopped crying so much, instead he gazed at you and tried to be as serious as he could be. Afterwards he mumbled, “I’m an incubus.. i-I’ll need you to..to, erm.. do that with me, please…”

He couldn’t help himself, you smelled so delicious. Besides his body and mind told him to not let this opportunity go to waste. You seemed nice enough for his first, so he thought now or never. On the other hand, you were wondering if what he said was true. Then you remembered the rope around your body, or rather, his tail. “Are all incubus’ this shy?” You questioned him. “Er, no.. I guess I’m the only one who’s timid. I mean- this is my first hunt..!” Oh dear, he was trying to justify himself, but it only made him sound even more pitiful.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. While he glared at you with a blushing face, you suddenly pinned him down onto your bed as you said, “so why are you waiting? I said I’ll let you eat.” His wrists were now held up above his head and his face pushed into the mattress. “Wait, I-I’m not ready!” Sigma complained, feeling his body heat up at the sudden change in position. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow with you.” You whispered gently, afterwards your hand slipped lower and lower, until you were caressing his butt. Gosh, his skin was soft, you felt like you were corrupting an angel instead.

Then you rubbed his rim with your middle and index finger, using your other hand to reach for the drawer. You took out everything you might need, but then noticed how you didn’t have lube near by. “Huh, this might be difficult.” You muttered under your breath, contemplating over what to do. “Er, what is?” The incubi gazed back at you with teary eyes, his lips were trembling as he talked. “I don’t have any lube here.” For a second you were almost hypnotised by his looks, but you managed to snap out of it. “I see, well, you could use my saliva, it has a similar effect.” Sigma proposed. Since he was offering it to you, it’d be impolite to decline, right?

Which led to your current situation, where you are caressing his back and spine with one hand, while the other one was over his face and sticking two fingers into his mouth. “Mhmm, hmHh..!!” He let out some muffled choking sounds, all due to your fingers messing with his tongue. You were shoving them too deep inside, he can barely breathe! “GuuHh.. huhMmm.” The boy groaned again, until you finally pulled your digits out. At this point he was already a blushing, flustered mess. Drooling around everywhere as tears threatened to spill. “Good job.” You told him, before smearing his saliva around his entrance. “Ha-haaaa…” sigma had to calm himself, this is it, today is the day he finally catches his first prey! So why does he feel like the prey today?

No long after you sticked a finger inside him, it slipped in very easily. “This makeshift lube is working pretty well.” You complimented him as your middle finger slid in, stretching his rim. “Uh-uHh! It feels weird?” He gasped, his tail was wagging around so cutely. “Shh, don’t tense up now, deep breaths, little incubus.” As soon as you finished your sentence, a second finger joined in. And oh boy he was already a wreck now. Hands clenching the sheets like his life depended on it, back arched so beautifully while those shining tears finally dripped down his cheeks. “Ah. Ha-hnnGg.” Poor baby couldn’t help but moan out loud, especially after you pushed your fingers knuckles deep inside. No one has ever touched that place, it was such a foreign feeling!

His insides were soft and warm, he basically welcomed you with open arms. Those squishy and spongy walls squeezed down on your fingers whenever you moved too fast, or curled them. Each time he’d also let out a whine of pleasure, shaking slightly to accommodate the electricity running through his body. “You.. hnghh, don’t tease..” that was all he managed to say, before a series of moans and whimpers escaped his throat. All because you found that one sweet spot inside him, and now you were poking it continuously. “This must be your prostate? Heh, how cute your voice is.” His voice was so high-pitched after all, almost like a girl. It must be in the nature of lust-demons to be so erotic all the time.

You slowly scissored him, spreading him and preparing him for the main event. But you didn’t neglect his comfort at all, once in a while you’d purposely brush over his weak spot or lean close to him to bite his shoulder. “Uh, haah.. why, why are you so nice..?” He asked, the spot below him was already wet with tears. “Hmm, because I want to?” You didn’t have a concrete answer, maybe it was his charm. Nevertheless when you deemed him ready enough, you speed up your movements a little. Now fingering him at a decent pace. Squelching sounds echoed through the room, such a lewd sound that it embarrassed the little incubi.

“HNng, ha-hmNn, it feels good to-good..” he moaned out again, but this time to his dismay you pulled your fingers out of him. “What-what?!” The boy immediately gasped, a disappointed look across his face. Did you get sick of him, or he wasn’t a.. attractive enough anymore..? “I’m sorry, little incubi, I can’t held myself back anymore.” Before he got the chance to turn back, he noticed how your tip was pressing and poking against him. “Ah-ahh..” another moan slipped from his lips at the realisation, he had to gulp loudly to swallow his nervousness once more. “Please, be s-slow.. go easy on me.” After hearing him say that, you had to use every ounce of self control you had to not pound on him right there right now.

Instead you heed his words and took your sweet time bottoming out inside him. “Is this pace alright?” You asked him after he managed to take the tip in. To be honest that was pretty dumb of you. Did you really think he could still register what you tell him, when he’s literally already in subspace? His eyes were widened and with each inch he took, his mind would go blank a little more. He could swear he couldn’t feel his limps anymore, legs and knees already going numb beneath him. He just didn’t know it would feel so good to get stuffed full..! All these sensations were getting to him, to the point he was melting, shaking and a flustered mess.

When you finally managed to fit your entire length inside, expect to see him begging, pleading for you to ruin him. At this point, his instincts were taking over, causing him to plead with you in the sweetest voice ever, just so you will finally start taking him to paradise. How can you say no to such a honey sweet temptation? Not even five minutes later you were jumping him like any rational thoughts of yours got wiped out, trusting into his slim and adorable body while holding his waist with your hands. His tail wrapped around your torso once more, pulling you closer to him so that you could trust into him deeper.

Or how he’d grind his hips against yours whenever you rub your dick deep inside him <3. He was such a cutie! Pervers noises came from the male like he was praying for something, blabbering with no end in sight. You bit his back and neck area some more, taking special care to not bit any fatal areas. The way his body was covered in traces of you was so beautiful that you wanted to keep him. He was like your perfect match. “AaahhH..!! Oh-ooHh, deeper, ha-harder..! <3.!” Sigma couldn’t control his own body anymore, he was just yelling out whatever was on his mind. His body was as if it got a mind if its own, doing everything it could to keep you pounding into his swollen and puffy hole.

After observing him for a while, you licked your lips. Lowering yourself once again to whisper into his ear, one of your hands grabbed the base of his tail. First you stroked and rubbed that area, then you pulled and yanked on his surprisingly soft tail. “You are doing so good for me, is this really your first? Your cunt is taking me so damn well~” You can’t even imagine how much he shuddered at your words. If he was a younger version of himself, he would have came from your teasing remarks alone. Sigma didn’t want this to end, he wanted to keep getting filled like this until his mind turned mush. All he could say as a response was, “Plea-please..! Fu-fuck me, more..haah…<3”

[strangelysamantha]

heart to heart ❀

steve harrington x fem!reader.

warnings: mention of being drugged, but otherwise pure fluff.

words: 987.

summary: at the starcourt mall bathroom, you and steve have a heart to heart.

request? no

a/n: it won’t let me insert links anymore and i’m very upset about it. but i’m happy to be writing again so i guess i have that going for me! can’t wait to produce a bunch of stranger things content.

my masterlist

—————————————-

you lay on the floor of the bathroom, your back slouched against the wall. your head wasn’t spinning as bad so that was good, but now the spiral to sobriety made your mind rush with thoughts. the starcourt mall had harsh lights, and you struggled to stick with any thoughts, overwhelmed by the torture you had barely escaped from. steve harrington was quiet in the stall next to you. a groan emitting from your lips. “are you okay steve?” you find the courage to question. you were nervous to break the silence, but if you had to endure it any longer you would explode. he hesitates, “yeah, i think uh,” he waits, “i think im alright.” you nod, although he’s unable to acknowledge it. “how about you? are you okay over there?” you stay quiet, unsure how to answer. “hello?” there’s worry in his voice, and he doesn’t wait to slide under the stall door to comfort you.

you grimace at him, “do you realize how gross the bathroom floor is?” you crack a smile, amused. he shrugs, “after all that fighting today, i already needed to wash the uniform, what difference will it make?” the two of you break out into laughter, “maybe it’s not fully out of our system yet.” this makes you laugh even harder. you take a moment to catch your breath. “steve?” he hums in response, “i’m glad i was with you in the battle against the russians.” he makes eye contact with you, “true, i’m pretty badass aren’t i?” you bite your lip nervously, “yes but you did deal with alot though.” he looks away, “i just want you to know im here for you. i mean what else can we go through that’s going to top breaking into a hidden russian lair?”

“i hope nothing… but this town is crawling with bad people. you can’t ever be safe.” his demeanor hurts, the pitiful comment causes your heart to sting. “yeah that’s what scares me.” you admit. “we’ll get through it together okay? we’re a good team.” you nod at his reassuring words, “let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” you collect your thoughts, “it’s funny to think that just last week we scooped ice cream for a living, and then we almost died.” steve smirks, “it’s quite the story to tell though.”

“don’t you miss high school? the only worry we had was about homework due dates, and trying not to fall asleep during lectures?” he reminisces, “it was easier, but time moves forward, and you get hardships thrown your way. i don’t know where i’ll be in a few years.” he continues, “it’s hard to think about the future, when the present is not enjoyable.” “i know, we should be out having fun, not worried about our hometown being invaded.” saying the words made the situation real, and the idea of your future was unimaginable. “do you still love nancy?” you question. he sighs, “yes, and no.” he thinks about it, you can tell by his face. “i miss what we had, the love was real, but time passed. we both grew into ourselves; there’s no point in ruining that growth.” his stance caught you by surprise, but you appreciated his honesty. “i had a first love too. it was different; it was a love that consumed me, but i lost who i was in the process. it’s hard to go back to someone when you know it didn’t work out for a reason.” he silently agrees, “have you moved on?” he asks. “yes, and no.” you giggle, “i’ve moved on, but sometimes i long for it. it was safe, predictable, but i know in my heart that things will work out for me.” steve’s eyes lock with yours.

you can’t read what he’s feeling, you’re filled with nerves. “i like you steve.” his lips curved, “you do?” you laugh slightly, “of course i do steve. you saved my life today. you make working at scoops ahoy fun. you’re playful, and witty. you treat me with so much kindness. and maybe i’m misreading this thing between us.” you back peddled slightly, worried you might have overstepped. “i like you too, today you brought out a side of me, one i hadn’t seen in awhile. you gave me hope, a reason.” you stomach fills with butterflies as his gaze lingers over you. you scooch forward, placing your hand over his. “steve, i really-.” unfortunately dustin and erica barge into the bathroom, before he rolls his eyes. “okay… what the hell?” steve and you glance at each other before returning your eyes to dustin. together you both emit into hysterical laughter at dustin’s comment. “get up we have to go.” he urges you up and rushes you to the door, erica’s face is stern and her hand is on her hip as she impatiently waited for you two to stand up. the four of you leave the bathroom, determined to escape the mall. you stay back, letting erica and dustin lead the way. you glance over at steve, your hand instinctively reaching for his as the nerves wash over you. he happily holds it, he looks over to you, his teeth bright. “you make me really happy.” he squeezes your hand. “you make me really happy too steve.” he chuckles slightly. “maybe after we escape, i can take you on a date?” a rose tint lifted to your cheeks as shyness crept up. “yes please.” the two of you continue to hold hands as you hurriedly tried to blend in with the crowd of people leaving the theater; however you see men in all black, guarding the exit. dustin tells you guys to abort and to turn around, and you frantically run to the lower level. fear was instilled inside you, however; with steve by your side you felt confident that you would make it to your guys first date.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[spideyhexx]

fem!reader

crying your eyes out over the way you were just treated by your father when he lashed out at the thought of one william bonney. Your father, who deeply hates Billy, but is unaware of your love for the boy and his love for you. His words about Billy wrench at your heart and when you swallow down your courage and voice your opinions in favor of the infamous outlaw, your father berated you harder than he has before. His words were venom and you’ve got a thick skin but his words about how he’s gonna kill Billy, especially and violently more if he saw the outlaw around you, made your heart shatter.

Billy’s finding you in no time soon after it.

Almost like he knew something was going on.

“Hey pretty, ‘re you ready for….,” and he trails off once he gets a clearer look at your face, tears still falling from your eyes, your nose sniffly.

His lips move into a frown and he rushes over, grabbing your face in his hands. Billy’s a little too rough with it but you don’t mind, you actually needed to feel him and his warm, big palms covering your cheeks. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

It’s hard to respond at first since your crying is in full effect. Billy’s brow is furrowed and his jaw clenches. Thoughts race into his mind about the worst possible things that could’ve happened to make his pretty girl cry this much.

“Tell me,” his voice low and firmer than it was before, but his eyes seem to soften when you sniffle.

“N-no, not hurt. My father.” and that’s all you’d have to say for billy to know what you’re getting at. He loosens his hold on your face, rubbing his thumb to catch the tears as they fall slower.

“Oh, honey…listen ‘m gonna figure it out, okay? Even if that means stealin’ you away.”

You let out a breath at that as you try to calm your breathing. “He said he’s gonna kill you,” you whisper and Billy shakes his head almost immediately.

“He ain’t gonna do that. I won’t let him.” You roll your eyes at his words and Billy pats your cheek gently.

“Honey, ‘m serious. I won’t let him,” Billy says, leaning his forehead to yours as he softens his tone, “not lettin’ your father ruin us. I can’t…I can’t,” his voice breaks and you see his nose twitch.

Before you can respond, Billy is pulling you into his arms, embracing you tight. You return it, holding onto him like someone was about to drag him away. Billy presses his nose to your hair, your scent filling him even more than it did before as he kisses your head. “Can’t let you go,” he mumbles, his own eyes watering as he thinks about your father. Thinks about you and how much the world must hate him as hurdles keep being thrown at him.

He even says it to you in that moment, “the world hates me,” and he sniffs, making you pull back just in time to see his tears.

You can’t find the right words, but all you can think to do is press your lips to his, the salty taste of both of your tears lingering on your lips. When you pull away, your lips are still brushing his, his hands finding yours. “I love you, Billy. Even if the world hates you, hates me…I love you.”

He closes his eyes, taking your words. He tilts his head back, looking up at the night sky, scattered stars twinkling above. He makes a silent wish, a promise that he keeps to himself then looks back to you. Billy breathes in and out deeply, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He presses his lips to yours. His lips are chapped and bitten from his own teeth, a nervous habit you’d always remind him of, but he never stopped it. He kisses as though he might break you and while you both yearn for something harder, something more passionate, the gentleness seizes both of you up into platter of love. Billy’s pulling away from you only slightly to gaze into your eyes as he speaks in his entrancing drawl, “and I love you, pretty. More than anyone knows.”

let’s chat about billy, here :)

[joeshiestyslover]

i know it won’t work- m. sturniolo

pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: you and matt have been in a situationship for months. he had you wrapped around his finger, but you soon begin to unravel yourself.

warnings: ANGSTTTT, language, mentions of sex, no fluff, matt’s kind of a dick ngl

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: my first sturniolo ficcc 🤭

matt sturniolo. the boy you love yet can’t stay away from. you met matt at a party that was being thrown by a mutual friend. the moment you locked eyes with matt you knew you were a goner. he gave you his number and you immediately began talking. after a while, he had asked you on a date, and soon enough, one thing led to another and you wound up naked in his bed.

this became a weekly occurrence. matt would ask you out on a “date”, but you knew it was just a hookup, yet you wanted it to be so much more. matt isn’t a relationship guy. you’ve known this since the beginning, but maybe, just maybe, you could fix him.

right now, you’re lying in bed with matt watching some random movie matt had put on. it’s not the kind of movie that you actually pay attention to, rather just one to have on for background noise. you can feel matt’s hand run up under your shirt and rub your back. thoughts are swarming your mind about matt. would matt ever want something more than this?

your thoughts are interrupted by matt’s voice. “y/n?” he asks. you look up at him. “you okay? you kinda spaced out for a sec.” he has a concerned look on his face. it’s almost enough to fool you and make you think he actually cares. “yeah i’m fine, just tired.” you say. matt shrugs and turns back to the movie.

thoughts of matt continue to run through your mind. you two act like a couple, you sure as hell fuck like a couple. why wouldn’t he want something more? after a while, you build up the courage to speak up. “hey matt?” he turns his attention away from the movie to look at you. “what’s up baby?” you nearly melt at the pet name. “would you ever want to be an actual couple?” you ask him nervously. the look on matt’s face is unreadable. “why? everything is fine as it is. why would we need to put a label on it?” your face drops and you sit up. “matt we can’t keep doing this. we can’t keep going on dates, hooking up, doing couple-y shit without being an actual couple. that’s not fair.” matt sits up as well. “where is this coming from? this is the arrangement, y/n. you know this. i don’t do relationships.” he tells you. “but why?” your voice begins to raise. “what is so awful about relationships that you refuse to even give it a chance?!” matt sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “it’s just not my thing! why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?! are you not happy?!” he begins to yell. you stand up from the bed and groan. “i don’t know anymore matt! you treat me like your girlfriend, but you refuse to call me as such. i can’t keep going on like this!” “like what y/n?!” you run your hands down your face, trying to control your emotions. “this!” you point between you and matt. “the hooking up, the dates, the pet names, everything! you can’t sit there and say that there isn’t something real between us because there is! you just can’t admit it!” you yell. “because there isn’t!” matt stands up from his bed.

your heart drops. “what?” you say softly. “you’ve somehow managed to convince yourself that i actually want to be in a relationship with you, but i don’t. we hook up when we need it! that’s all we are, that’s all we ever will be!” “that’s not true matt, you don’t actually mean that.” you can feel the tears beginning to form in your waterline. “but i do y/n! what’s so hard to understand?! i don’t want to be with you! hell, i don’t want to be with anybody!” he basically screams. you can physically hear your heart shatter in your chest like glass breaking on a wooden floor. “matt…” the tears are free-falling now. he just stares at you coldly, a stoic expression on his face, waiting for you to continue. “i never thought you could be this cruel” you whisper, beginning to shrink into yourself, the shame and embarrassment starting to hit you. matt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “look, we can just pretend this never happened, and we can go back to how it was before. i still want you in my life.” he begins to step towards you, but you step back. “no matt you’re not listening to me. we can’t just go back to how it was before. it doesn’t work like that.” you cross your arms and look down at your feet, wanting to be anywhere but here at this moment.

“y/n, please. don’t be like this. let’s just lie down and watch a movie, okay?” matt comes up to you and rubs your arms up and down. you almost accept his offer, but remember the cruel words that had just spilled from his mouth a few moments earlier. “no. i can’t do this anymore. if you don’t want to actually be with me, then i’m not gonna waste my time chasing after you anymore. it’s not worth my energy.” you say sadly. “y/n, baby.” you so badly want to fall into matt’s arms, but you can’t allow yourself to be entrapped by him again. “don’t do that matt. there’s nothing you can say that will make this better. you don’t want me, and i can’t force you to.” you explain. matt sighs. “fine. be like that.” he says, no emotion in his voice. “i have to go.” you begin to put your shoes on, and grab your phone and car keys. matt just stands there, looking at you getting ready to leave him forever.

once you grab all your things, you walk towards matt’s bedroom door. before you walk out and turn around to face him. he stands still in the middle of his room, just staring into your eyes. “goodbye matt.” you say softly before walking out of his room. you leave his house and get into your car. you begin to sob uncontrollably, wishing to feel any emotion but this. as you pull out of matt’s driveway, your car is silent, the only sound to be heard is your sniffles and occasional sobs.

after ten minutes, you reach your home. you turn off the engine and bolt to your room. you immediately lie down on your bed and start bawling once again, now being in the comfort of your own space. as you cry, you think about your memories with matt. the dates, the sleepovers, the sweet words. he had your wrapped around his finger. he had made a fool out of you and your love. how could you be so stupid? part of you wants to walk away from matt for forever until he actually listens. however, another part of you wants to take him back with open arms, but as long as matt only views you as a simple hookup, you know it won’t work like that.

[sadnightforus]

NEXT LIFE  (JJH)

toxic-boyfriend!jaehyun x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re sick and tired of the on and off relationship you have with your boyfriend. He was a chaos and you were trying to tame it, overtime, it burns you and turns you into someone you don’t recognize. And you decide that you’ll walk out of this, to save both yourself and him.

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

WARNINGS: ghosting, neglectful behaviors, toxic toxic toxic, manipulation, self destructive behaviors on god, this makes my head spin.

A/N: i’m better at long one shot than a full fic. embarrassing. anyway, enjoy this charli xcx crumbs, i love love love next life by her (which is the inspo for this). also super fun fact, I wrote this on March this year and it's October now lol.

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

 You both are at the river side, a popular spot for couples to hang out and strengthen their bonds. For you, it’s very far from the truth that you want to strengthen it, because you know it’s on the verge of falling and there’s no way to stop it from crashing and burning.

 It’s a nice day, you feel content. Or force yourself to feel content with what you have. 

 Then you begin to think far, about how tired you are. How sick you are that your relationship with him played out like this and it never became better as time went by. But in one way or another, you found yourself going back to Jung Jaehyun, no matter what. 

 You think his heart is made of metal, that’s why he doesn’t care to change.

 Love can be so pure, but so poisonous, and you’re on the receiving end of the latter. You can barely recall what love is supposed to be like anymore.

 Loving him is a form of self harm, you convinced. Why does it hurt to walk away even when you need to?

 You’ve always been more than understanding. You understand why people lie. You let people use you and throw you away many times, it’s the same thing with him. Nothing is more addictive than lies that come from his lips such as ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ll never hurt you’ are some of the few. And when he kissed you like he meant it. But you know he was kissing in an attempt to mend the broken heart and only then crushed it with his own hands. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”  You blurt out, in the moment that you both are enjoying the riverside sight after all of the chaos, which earns a confused look from your boyfriend. You stand up, pulling the strap of your bag to stay on your shoulder as Jaehyun does the same. 

“What’s wrong?” He questions, stunned by the sudden change in your behavior that was just sweet moments ago. Despite that, his face never falters from the stoic expression and you find it so hard to read him.

“I want to break up for real. This time.” You breathe out, finding the courage and words that hides itself in the back of your brain, then gazing right into his eyes before continuing. “Thank you for everything. But we shouldn’t do this anymore.” 

 He reaches out to grab your hand, as if a sentiment for you to change your mind. There’s a different sparkling in his eyes, almost like he cares about your departure from his life. He shifts closer, analyzing your body language if you were being honest. “Do you? Do you not wanna do this anymore?” 

“Yes.” You find the courage to speak louder than you had ever been. Maybe it’s a false confidence, but you want to get out of this situation. He makes it so hard with the way he has been giving you those helpless eyes that made you want to rethink everything you’ve said. 

 Except you don’t. 

“But we can try again, can’t we?” He pleads, asking for another chance but you won’t crumble like you had done so in the past. 

“You say that every time, but that’s why this shit dragged on for 5 years! 5 YEARS!” 

 Perhaps your voice will most likely catch the attention of many if it wasn’t for the fact you both are the farthest as you can possibly be from the area where it has a few people. That much of a distance buys both of you the privacy of doing this in public. 

“I’m really sorry…” 

“Do you mean it? Do you mean it when you say you’re sorry?” It sounds condescending, but really it’s not. It almost sounds taunting, but he doesn’t miss the way tears are making its way out of your eyes. “You don't, right? You don’t. You always said sorry but then you’d go back to neglect me then we’ll fight and say it’s my fault. Then we’ll make up and then get along for you to ghost on me again. Tell me, what did I do for me to get that kind of treatment? Do people in relationships do the same thing as we did?” 

 His eyes shift around, uncertain of the outcome, although in his guts, he knows that it’s not as the same as it was before. That thought crashes him. He was overconfident that you would stay and tolerate him forever.

 Maybe he was wrong. 

 You have tried loving him and given him so many chances, but it was never easy– you watched him being self-destructive. Itt was the same old broken song record that you kept trying, hoping that you would be able to fix all of those errors. He was a beautiful chaos, but still a chaos that you needed to get away from.

 And you do indeed need to get away from him, everything has worn you down so much that you barely recognize yourself. You begin to wonder, why did you let him play with your heart this much?

“Are you aware that I’m just a human too? Every time I thought we could just be friends or change into someone better, you turned around and fuck it up. I DON’T GET YOU!” You yell, hot tears streaming down your cheeks due to frustration. “It’s not the first time you made me feel like this. I’m so fucking tired. Do you see how tired I am? DO YOU?!” You try to suppress your cries in an attempt to articulate your thoughts as you search for remorse on Jaehyun’s face. “We went back and forth so many times. My friends watched me bend my back for you, picking you up at the bar just because you fought with someone who ran their mouths. Aren’t you tired?”

“I am.” 

 His answer sounds as worn out as you are. “I’m sick of it too. But what can I do? I’m fucked up on everything. I’m lonely, you were my only hope. When you were gone, I wanted to get your attention and tie you back to me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“As selfish as it is, you were the only person who had your best interest for me.” And he ends it with “I’m sorry that I took advantage of your kindness. I’m too confident that I’ll get back up on my feet and you’ll still be there in the future. But I’m wrong.”

 You’re stunned, so stunned that you held your breath because you can’t believe what he was saying.

 Suddenly, you see the glimpse of the Jung Jaehyun that you fell in love with, before all of these catastrophic events. You wish that he hadn’t changed so much, because it’s too late to back out now.

 You turn around in an attempt to walk away, want to, but a hand stops you.

 “Let go of my hand.” Your voice trembles, betray the confident demeanor you had earlier as you were lashing out. 

“No.” He firmly answers. “If you promise to answer this question, I’ll promise that I’ll let you go.”

“Okay.” You turn back around, dancing him as you take in a look of him one last time, because you might never see him again. You pull your hand out of his grasp, and he doesn’t make a big fuss over it.

“Do you think somewhere in the parallel universe, we’re happily engaged and in love and I’m.. the best person you could ask for?”

“I think so.” You meet his eyes, which are bloodshot red from tearing up by now.

“That’s all.” He nods, biting his upper lips to suppress his cries. “Maybe we’ll be better in our next life.”

“Maybe in our next life, I’d think twice about this.” You sigh, then finally say out the words you want to say the most. “Goodbye, Jaehyun.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

 As you turn around to walk away from the river, heart heavy and body tense, there’s still Jaehyun who stands frozen in the same place since you had left him there.

 His eyes are piercing at your figure that slowly makes its way to slip out further and further from his sight. He wishes he can tell you this one thing.

“Maybe in our next life, there will be no goodbye.”

 But he has to accept that you’re gone, and won’t come back to him anymore.

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2024

[wayfayrr]

Surprise!!

I'm back from my break, taking some time just to clear my thought's feels like it's worked wonders <33

To set things back off with a bang I've got the grand prize winner for @glowyskull in my 200 followers raffle!! It's self aware twi deciding to take certain matters into his own hands after his darling reader was gone for so long - since he's fresh out of twilight princess in this one he's going as link rather than twilight as well I hope you enjoy!! <3

[masterlist]

Of all the days to get sick it had to be today, of course it is. I’m somewhat grateful for the extra day off though even if I would’ve preferred not being sent home early, it’ll give me some time to sort out some things I’ve been pushing aside for a while. Maybe I could start by finally sorting out some boxes of old things I’ve been putting off for ages. Well, now that box is a lot emptier than it was when I started and I’ve finally found my old Wii - I wonder does it still have my old Twilight Princess save? Maybe I could see, there’s not much else to do now I’ve finished sorting everything out. Just gotta get all the wires plugged in correctly and then … There! It’s certainly working which is a good sign, now all there is to do is to open it up and check up on something I thought I had lost long ago. 

This isn’t how it should open - I know what the opening is supposed to be.

There should be something here, not just this, not just this dark empty noise. Maybe the data got corrupted or something, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“..Dar-li-in’?”

“...”

“Darlin’ is that - you - you’ve finally come back darlin’? I - I ain’t alone anymore?”

…What is that - that can’t just be file corruption, that was someone speaking to me… It wasn’t the clearest, it sounded like it had been put through rounds of compression but that was definitely a voice… 

“You are there aren’t you darlin’? Please - I don’t- I can’t go - I can’t”

“I can’t go back to how I’ve been stuck I can’t - I can’t do it anymore… I know I’m supposed to be the courageous hero but I -”

“- I can’t do this anymore… I ca-n’t do - this… not - no-t any-m…”

He cut himself off with his own sobbing… I’ve never heard anyone sound half as broken as this, it’d be the rawest I’ve ever heard anyone cry if it wasn’t for all of the distortion… What has he been through? Now that the static has lessened - It’s links model, but more humanlike? It’s like there’s a person on the other side of the screen and not just a character.

But that means He’s the one crying…The way he’s standing is just as heartbreaking as his sobs are, his hands pressed up against the glass, his head hanging low and endless tears falling down his face. How do I go about - I know where I can start… 

“...Link? Can you hear me - I - I’m not sure if I’m the darlin’ you’re talking about, but right now, You aren’t alone link.”

“[Name] - you ? Oh darlin’ you - You’re really here - ‘m not imagining this? You - you’re finally back?”

“Yeah, I’m here link.”

His crying sounds happier now, but it still doesn’t sound anywhere close to stopping - I don’t expect him to stop crying for a long while though. It has to have been what - at least a decade since I last played? - has he been trapped in there aware the whole time? 

“You aren’t - you aren’t going to leave me again, are you? Please darlin’ - I can’t go back - it’s so - I can’t. Please. Darlin’ you can’t leave me again - I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds even worse now, it’s heartbreaking and I think he knows how inhuman he sounds if his wince is anything to go off of, how he sounds is hurting him too.

“I thought I’d tried every way to get out… but I - I never got the chance to do it when the game was on… You won’t be able to leave me if this works… will you darlin'?”

Here I thought his crying sounded scary, the way it’s fading into laughter is downright haunting. It sounds so wet as if he’s choking on his tears as he laughs. 

“I’m finally going to get out- I’m not - I’m not going to be stuck anymore.  Darlin’ I”

For the first time since this all started he’s looking up at me, lifting his head like it’s one of the heaviest things to exist just to make eye contact with me. He looks… he looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“W-what are you - what are you planning to do link?”

“... I don’t know… All I do know is that this glass keeping us apart? It’s so thin… I think tha-”

The way he silenced himself suddenly isn’t so shocking, not when a smile is cracking its way across his face mirroring the glass underneath his fingers. His breath and mine hitched before his laughing picked back up with even more distortion. 

“To - to think darlin’ - all I  - it just - it just needed to be on - I… I…”

Blood coated my shelf now due to how desperately his hand is reaching for something to hold onto after the glass tore into his skin. This is all just a fever dream though so…

Without much more thinking I reached out to take his hand, wincing slightly as the glass caught in his skin dug into mine. Immediately his grip tightened with a choked sob coming from him, like he didn’t expect me to help him. It doesn’t take long after that for him to shatter the screen in his desperation, falling out onto me knocking us both to the floor. Shards of my tv embedding themselves into any bare skin of his, blood - his blood - streaking out from each and every wound now marring his face as proof that this is real.

The same blood that’s starting to stain my shirt.

“I’m here darlin’ - ‘m finally out.”

“Yeah, you are Link, you’re out of there now.”

Everything feels so fuzzy, maybe my fever really is messing with me more than I thought. Real or not though, I should deal with the cuts on his face, he isn’t from here… Who knows how deadly even the most basic infection could be to him?

“...Link, if I may you’ve um… you’ve gotten a lot of cuts from …that and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them as they are. Would you mind if I...?”

“You would - darlin’ you’d do that just for me?”

“I’d do it for anyone who needed it… and you really need it. I don’t want to think what could happen if I don’t. I’ll just need to get up to grab some supplies okay?”

As I shifted to get up he let out a low groan and buried his head more into my torso, clearly very against the idea of me moving in any way. Even trying to gently pry him off of me isn’t helping at all, he’s not letting go anytime soon; his grip only seems to be getting tighter with every movement I make. 

“Link, please… I don’t know how your body could react to an infection and we don’t have healing potions or fairies here. I’ll be back in just a second I swear.”

“Darlin’. You aren’t leavin' me again, I’ve already spent far too long without you when you abandoned me for so, so long.”

Why does he sound and feel so real this can’t be… this has to be a hallucination. Come on [name], just deal with this as it comes. 

“I don’t need to leave you then, you can stay with me while I get what I need. Does that work for you?”

A gentle nod followed by loosening his hold on me was a good sign that he is okay with this, despite how frail and overwhelmed his face makes him out to be. Getting up still isn’t the easiest thing to do with how he refuses to let go of me despite if he did then it would far easier for the both of us to get up. Then the moment I do finally get up immediately his arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls himself up with me, almost as if he’s struggling to stand on his own; not that I’ll question that now, there are other issues to be dealing with.

Shuffling over to where I keep my first aid kit, link could clearly tell it wasn’t the best idea to keep ahold of me while I get it, instead leaning on the wall keeping himself upright as his eyes never left me the entire time his hands weren't on me. Like he’s scared I’m going to up and vanish or something. Because I did. I did and I left him in that place. I left him to rot.

“Okay I’ve got it link, let’s go sit down and I can treat your wounds.”

“M’kay darlin’.”

Leading him back to the couch with his arms securely around my waist again was faster than before, letting me move him into the position that would be more comfortable for him while I do this. 

“Okay wolf boy, this isn’t going to be the best. After I’ve taken the shards out, I’ll have to disinfect the cuts. So this is gonna sting a little alright? Just try to keep still and it’ll be over faster.”

The silence was tattered with the occasional whine and whimper as I pull each and every shard littering his otherwise perfect face. It wasn’t long till I was preparing some rubbing alcohol on a cloth just to be certain there won’t be any more risks. Just got to do it before I start getting too drowsy from this fever. 

“There you go Link, not much longer now, you’re doing amazingly. I’ll warn you again though this is really going to sting.”

“Darlin’ nothing could sting worse than the feeling of you abandoning me all that time.”

Hissing and pulling away when the cloth came close to touching him seemed to disprove that faster than he meant for it too. Not that I didn’t expect him to try pulling away from it, just not pushing my hand away while pressing himself into my other side. With a soft sigh, I let him grab onto my free hand with both of his, the image of him clinging to my sleeve like a plush toy being one of the cutest things I would have ever seen if not for the blood streaming down his face. 

“Come on, you were doing so well. I promise it’ll only take a moment more then it’ll be done with…”

That seemed to do the trick, despite the clear pout and his tightening grip whenever it seemed to hurt a little too much, he’s let me clean the blood off of his face and clean the wounds. Now just to bandage him up and -

“All done link, see it was worth it right? Now you don’t have to worry about all those cuts; I can go and lie down for a bit now too.”

“Lie down but - but I just got here… can’t we spend more time together?”

“I do want to link, I can promise you that. I’m just not feeling well, I haven’t been well for this whole time really; this fever is taking more of a toll on me than I thought it would.”

“Fever? Oh, darlin’ you, you should be resting not dealin' with me [name]. I - I didn’t even realise, I just. I was so excited to be here with you that I didn’t even notice you were in pain. How could I even call myself your lover?”

What did he just-?

No don't worry about that at the moment [name].

Laying my head on his chest after gently shoving him onto the couch is such a comforting feeling; if he’s just my fever trying to convince me to rest, well I wouldn’t mind getting sick more often. 

“‘s alright link, don’t worry about ‘t. I’m just, gonna sleep for a little bit. Then if you aren't just a hallucination we can spend more time together later.”

Hands carded through my hair only seem to push me further into sleep now, there’s no point resisting and forcing myself to stay awake now anyway.

“I know we will darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t ever letting you leave me ever again.”

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I’ve seen a few metas now that describe Crowley as self-loathing and…that’s not quite it to me.

Crowley for sure has Issues. He has a lot of anger and doesn’t always deal with it in constructive ways. He is hypervigilant as all fuck, and the fact that he is almost always correct about the amount of danger he and Aziraphale are in at a given moment just reinforces that hypervigilance feedback loop.

He has the hair-trigger flight response of someone who has spent millennia dodging oppressive forces that are more powerful than him, and this makes him default to RUN even when on some level he knows that is not the right response to a situation. He’s very aware that there are a lot of people out there who can hurt him, and there is no one coming to protect him. The only option is to try to avoid the blow.

And he is absolutely terrified of rejection, for very understandable reasons. This also encourages him to have one foot out the door of a situation, to pretend he doesn’t care, because if you leave first and actually never cared at all then you can’t be hurt. He is painfully aware that good things can be taken away from him without warning, that love that looks absolute can turn out to be conditional, because that already happened to him.

But. As much as I love a self-loathing blorbo, I don’t think Crowley hates himself.

Sure he talks a good game about how he’s not nice. But I don’t think, for example, that he thinks he is unworthy of Aziraphale’s love, that he is not good enough for Aziraphale because he is a demon or for any other reason. Because as far as Crowley is concerned, angels and demons are the same! All that good and evil stuff is just names for sides. I think he is afraid, because he’s still not sure, after all this time, if Aziraphale feels the same way he does, and broaching that topic is an enormous risk compared to just staying in the ambiguously-defined status quo they have now. (And then he works up the courage to do it anyway, and seems to have his worst fears confirmed.)

FWIW, I don’t think Aziraphale thinks that Crowley is not good enough for him either. Not at all. But I think Crowley might think that Aziraphale thinks that after the end of s2. And that really stings, because as much as they both gave lip service to the idea of “I’m good, you’re evil,” I think Crowley always assumed that Aziraphale saw through that when it came to him as a person, that it was just something Azirphale said and not something he really believed about Crowley, and now he’s not so sure.

I also think Crowley believes he did not deserve his fall (hot take: none of them did) not because he is extra-special Good, but because that’s a fucked-up thing for someone who said they loved you to do. While he is clearly still dealing with the trauma of it, I think he knows by now: I shouldn’t have been hurt like that. I didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t my fault.

And so the horror of Aziraphale accepting the offer of going back to Heaven is partially I thought we both understood how this system works; I thought we were on our own side together and partially I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt you and at least a little bit I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt me. Do you think they were right?

(And Aziraphale doesn’t! He doesn’t think that! He thinks they were wrong, but he thinks they were wrong about Crowley, that it was an individual mistake and not a feature of a system that squashes questioning and nonconformity of any kind.)

I wrote a whole meta about “I won’t be forgiven, not ever” and “unforgivable, that’s what I am” in 2019 that I won’t rehash here, but tl;dr, I don’t think Crowley is saying that as a statement of his self-worth. I think he is saying, Heaven would never let me back in, and if they did, I wouldn’t go. Because I don’t want or trust the “acceptance” of people who don’t value me as I am.

And it’s part of the cruel dramatic irony of the Final Fifteen that one of the things that breaks them apart is that Crowley values himself enough not to go back to Heaven. Crowley, who we’ve seen will do almost anything for Aziraphale, says, No. I am not putting myself back in that abusive situation. You shouldn’t either; I really wish you wouldn’t; but if you do, I am still not going back there. Not even for you.

[cinnbar-bun]

Heartless Giant- Chapter 1

(Excuse the banner)

Pairing: Crocodile x GN!Royal!Reader

Rating: SFW

First part of a collaboration with @fanaticsnail 's Storyteller collection! I chose to do the "Heartless Giant" with Crocodile. Thank you for having me as a part of this, dear <3!

Summary: Your older brothers claim that the man who tried to overthrow your kingdom is still in the dungeons below. Such a monster shouldn't possibly exist, right? After a bet and a promise, you and your brothers travel down the dungeons to find the proclaimed "giant". Those rumors should be nothing more than gossip... right?

Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee

You can read this on my AO3 here!

Word Count: ~2.7k

It happened years ago, they said. A man- more akin to a beast, if anything- tried to take over and kill the king. Your father, ever the gallant ruler, fought the giant beast and sentenced him to eternal imprisonment in the lowest cell of the castle dungeons. 

A part of you was thankful you were not there to witness such a sight. To see your beloved father have to fight what was perhaps the scariest enemy in a long time would’ve frightened you. Yet, another part of you was admittedly… curious. Your elder brothers always warned you against going to the dungeon. They always joked that the giant would eat you and your heart. 

“He towers over everyone… his shadow looms over everything,” the eldest would say. Your second brother chuckled along with him before hunching his back and cupping his left hand. 

“He’s got a big hook, too. If his ugly face sees ya, he sinks it into ya!” He swung his arm around like it was a hook and your third brother pretended to be scared. He grinned after his performance and slunk to you. 

“And, father says, with only his right hand, the giant takes away your life. He just,” your brother covered your face with his right hand and shook you while growling loudly. “Drains you until you’re a husk!” 

You shove your brother off of you and roll your eyes. 

“There’s no way anyone like that exists,” you huff and adjust your appearance. Your three older brothers laugh wildly, as if you had told the funniest joke in history. 

“Oh come on, you didn’t see him!” The third one says. “You were on a different island!” 

“I doubt you saw him, either,” you cross your arms. “You guys would be terrified if a man like that really existed.” 

“Are ya callin’ us liars?” The second one frowns and raises a brow. “Don’t make us throw you into the dungeon with ‘im!” 

“Maybe I am! Why would you go and try to make a joke out of a man that father had to battle like that?” 

“Ugh, there you go, again,” the first rolls his eyes. “Can’t even take a joke!” 

“I think all those books ruined yer brain, (Y/n),” the second chortles as he points at the book in your hand. 

“I think all the seawater melted yours,” you shoot back and hold your book tighter. 

“Well, I just hope you can fight if that beast breaks out one day!” The third one laughs. He takes his sword out of his holster and swings it with calculated precision. He sheaths his sword and you sigh. 

“We can hope he never does,” you reply. “Maybe you three will be courageous enough to actually look him in the eye.” 

“Those are fighting words! Ya think we can’t look him in the eye?” The second yells. 

“I don’t think so,” you taunt. “He probably doesn’t even look anything like what you just said.” 

“Fine. We’ll take ya down to see him and prove to you how dangerous he is. And when you cry, we won’t save you.” 

Seeing your brothers so adamant to prove themselves made your arrogance rise as well. Not to mention, that little voice in your head that was always, always wanting to see the man your father had cursed under his breath over and over since that day. In a sick, twisted way, you wanted to see the man that nearly brought your kingdom to ruin when you were away. 

“Fine. We can all go together and we’ll see just how tough you are from the ‘giant’.” 

Your brothers smirked and nodded. The eldest stepped forward and whispered. “At midnight. Be quiet. The guards and father are having a meeting tonight. Use the back staircase and we’ll all meet by the doors.” 

All four of you shook upon it and continued with your day. Your heart raced, your thoughts drifting to that beast locked away in the dungeons. 

A man who towered over everyone. A man with a hook. A scarred face. The power to take life away with only his right hand. 

You tried to imagine how this monster would look, but all images your mind conjured were hideous and unsightly. You shivered, yet the way your feet bounced with nearly every step gave away the excitement you secretly held inside. 

After pretending to fall asleep on your bed, you waited till the moon was at its highest and opened the door. You peered out the hallways, checking if the coast was clear before scurrying along to the rendezvous point with your brothers. Just as they had promised, the three of them were waiting for you with eager grins and smiles. 

“So you really did come?” The first chuckled. “Thought you would’ve hid away.” 

“I wasn’t going to,” you clicked your tongue. “I’m ready to see how you three will react to him, though.” 

“Please, that man’s got nothing on us,” the second dismissed. “Four against one, he’s done for.” 

“More like three against one,” the third snorted, nudging his head to you. 

“I don’t need to fight. None of us should need to, actually. We’re just taking a look, and then we’re leaving.” 

They glanced around before your second brother picked the lock to the cellar with a pin he had taken from your mother. They urged you inside and checked that none of you would be discovered. 

The dungeons were dark, mildewy, and worst of all, freezing. You shivered as you realized your nightclothes were a bit too light for this cold place. 

“Come on, hurry up,” your brothers whispered as they practically ran down the steps to the lowest dungeon level. You made an effort to catch up with them before you noticed how low the temperature was down here. Every time you and your brothers let out a breath, you could see the small amounts of steam cloud around you four. 

They lived in such conditions…? 

Your brothers quickly made their way to the farthest cell in the dungeon and laughed loudly. 

“There he is!” 

“Ahaha! My god, he’s hideous!” 

“Come on, give us a glance!” 

You gasped at what your brothers were saying. “Don’t say things like that! You know better than that.” 

As foolish as you were to come down here, you were not foolish enough to insult the beast. 

The third rolled his eyes. “Oh, quiet down will you?” 

“What are you, our mother?” The first glared. He began to bang on the bars. “Wake up, will you?” 

You made your way to the cell and noticed the looming shadow in the corner. His back was towards you and your brothers, barely clothed in the rags he wore. There were two large chains wrapped around his arms, preventing him from using them to escape and use the ferocious powers your brothers discussed. He was sitting, hunched over, yet, even in this position, you could tell how large and massive he was. He hardly moved or flinched at the noise your brothers made, making them more upset. 

“Come on! Give us something! Look us in the eye!” They hit the bars again, but the man stayed as still as a statue. 

This was the man who nearly ended your kingdom… 

You didn’t need to see his face, but through his behavior alone, you knew that despite him being in the cell, you and your brothers were his prey. 

“Cut it out, now,” you warned, the anxiety creeping in your voice. 

“What? Scared? Scared the ugly beast will eat ya?” The second brother called out. The third brother continued to make loud noise. 

“Come on, we got our little sibling here! Don’t you want to impress them, giant?” He yelled before he grabbed you and pushed you against the bars. You yelped in pain and from the cold metal pressing into your face and body. 

“Stop it! Let me go!” You screamed. 

“What happened to the beast who tried to end us? Huh? I thought you gave my father a good fight! So look at us!” The first glowered at the giant before he smirked at the ground.

“What are you doing? Stop that!” 

“Would you just shut your mouth?” The first leaned down to pick up a large rock and tossed it in his hand. Your other brothers chuckled darkly while you shook your head. 

“No… this wasn’t what we said we’d do! It was just to look!” 

“He can’t do anything to us. Look at him. He’s wasted away. Just watch,” the first says as he pulls his arm back before launching the rock at the giant. It hits him square in the back of his head and echoes as it patters to the ground. 

All is silent as you and your brothers stare. Yet, still, the giant does not move. 

“What a waste! He’s a dumb ogre! Can’t even look at us properly,” the second sighs. 

“Why would you do that?!” You shout at your brother. “Why would you throw that?” 

“You challenged us to see if we were scared. I think that beast is scared of us! He doesn’t even move!” 

Your brothers roared in laughter while you heard the rattling of the chains. Your eyes widened in horror as you noticed the man’s arms were beginning to move slowly. 

“G-guys. Let go. We need to go,” you beg. “Let me go.” 

You try and remove yourself from your brother’s grasp while they all laugh harder. 

“What? Scared? You’re even stupider than him!” They tease you. The third shoves your face harder into the bars. 

“Oh go on, you’re both stupid cowards! Go on! Why don’t you give him a little kiss? He might like that!” 

You struggle against your brother as you hear the chains clink. Your brothers laughter echoes in the dungeon until the third screams loudly in pain. 

You hardly have time to notice what is going on as you’re flipped around and see the third is on the floor, gripping his bleeding hand in pain while your other brothers are wide-eyed and trembling. Your back is now against the bars and you feel a cold metal against your throat. 

You’re shaking, afraid for your life as you glance down to see a gold hook pressed against your skin. 

Your other two brothers quickly unsheathe their swords and point it to the assailant, but their fear is evident by the way they can’t even hold their weapons properly. 

“The g-giant…” the first whispers, quaking in his boots. You know it’s a bad idea. Every part of you is screaming to not do so. Your mind races with warnings and against your better judgment… 

You lean back and try to glance up. You freeze as you look up to the giant’s sharp features. You can’t see much from this angle, but you can make out how tall he is. Your brothers’ descriptions of him didn’t do him justice, and you recognize how much more imposing his figure is. 

He presses his hook harder, pulling you further to him. He was careful not to use the pointed end of it to hurt you, but in your current state, you couldn’t care. 

A low grumble catches your attention as you realize it is the giant attempting to speak. 

“Do not touch them ever again,” his low voice threatens. Your brothers are even more shaken by the giant’s voice as they squeak and stumble backwards. 

“W-wait, don’t-” you cry, not wanting to be alone. Your brothers put away their weapons as they force themselves back up and run away, screaming bloody murder. Your heart sinks as you watch your brothers run off without you as their voices get quieter in this dark dungeon. The giant removes his hook from you, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground as you struggle to breathe. 

“Go,” is all he says, his shackles shaking as walks back to his corner. You don’t know what to think. 

“You’re not…?” You begin, unsure of what to say at all. Do you thank him? Apologize? Cry? Leave? You’re too stunned to know what to do next. 

“No. Just go. You shouldn’t be down here, anyways.” 

“Wait,” you call to him. “Why did you save me?” 

“Would you prefer I kill you?” He sharply replies. 

“No. I just… I didn’t expect that from you…” you mumble. He sighs. 

“You were foolish for coming down here. And you were even more foolish for allowing them to use you like bait.” 

“I didn’t think they would,” you admit pathetically. 

“Of course you didn’t. Life’s pretty easy up there, isn’t it, your highness?” He bitterly laughs. 

“Don’t patronize me. I just wanted to know why you would do such a thing.” 

“Telling you wouldn’t make a difference. Just let me rest and rot away the rest of my life in peace, would you?” 

You stop and nod, the adrenaline wearing off as you’re back to feeling the bitter cold on your skin. “Are you not freezing down here? You’re hardly wearing anything that could keep you warm.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Prisoners aren’t afforded that luxury, your highness. We stay in the cold and in this silence to pay for our crimes.” 

The logic was understandable, but you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. 

“I haven’t thanked you for saving me and stopping my brothers, yet,” you start, fumbling through the ideas in your head. “Thank you. As a show of my appreciation, I’ll bring you something to keep you warm.” 

He stood still, as if considering your words. “You would do something like that for me?” 

“Yes. I will do so. I’ll bring it down for you as soon as I can,” you assure him, feeling resolute in your decision. Criminal he may be, but royalty you were. Even the worst subjects required kindness and repayment for their actions. 

He turned his body around, and you managed to see his face fully under the dim light of the lantern. His face was sharp, chiseled, and scarred. The scar ran across his face over his nose, and the stitches on it looked brutal. The dark circles and bags under his eyes were prominent, like the strands of hair that were falling and framing his face. It was clear he tried to slick it back, but given his situation, he couldn’t do much with it in this grimy cell. 

You gasped at his appearance, taken aback by how strangely beautiful you found him. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. 

“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” he smoothly teased. “Do I look like the monster you thought I was?” 

“No,” you earnestly respond, surprising him, somewhat. 

“Oh? Why is that?” Unlike your brothers, who cowered away in fear, you looked directly into his dark eyes with a firm resolve. 

“You look just like a man…” you reply. His eyes flicker with light for a brief moment, before they return to the dull color they were a moment ago. 

“Monsters can look like men, your highness. You should know better than that.” 

“Yet you did not kill me when you had a chance. Would a monster spare me?” 

“I guess not,” Crocodile sighed. “Perhaps I’ve gotten soft while being locked away for so long.” 

“I can only hope. But I promise, I will bring you the gift soon.” 

“Hm, don’t take too long, your highness. It gets terribly cold down here,” he replied in a drab voice. He turned himself around and faced the stone walls. “I don’t have anything else to say to you tonight.” 

You were taken aback by his abrupt statement but chose not argue further. He had done you a massive favor, and you too would probably feel the same way if locked away here for so long. 

“Thank you again,” you said to him before you pulled yourself up and dusted the dirt off your nightclothes. You glanced back at him, but the man was back to staying silent and not moving. 

What a dreary life that must be…

[seijorhi]

Shelter from the Storm

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

w.c 8k

tw: yandere, blood, murder, nsfw, smut (sorta), oikawa is awful in this, technically everything is consensual but... big yikes.

A gentle breeze blows past, a lock of loose hair fluttering in its wake. Early still, the sky is painted with buttery oranges and pinks, a perfect, picturesque sunrise. Leaning on the railing of the balcony, you gaze to the city below, lost in thought. 

Behind you, the sliding door opens, a warmth enveloping you, strong, sinewy arms curling around your middle. 

“Morning,” Oikawa murmurs, drawing you closer. His bare chest rumbles at your back when he speaks again, “You want some breakfast? Coffee?”

How many times can you make the same mistake – fall into bed with the same person – and still claim it to be a momentary lapse in judgement? Maybe you’ll set a new record. 

“Oikawa…”

Lips press against the back of your head, strangely affectionate. For all your little indiscretions, the time you’ve spent together, this sort of affection – the casual touching, the… intimacy of it all, feels out of place in broad daylight. “Mm? We could go and get one of those croissants from you like from the place across the road? Or get something delivered if you’d rather stay in?”

“Oikawa,” you sigh again, more insistent this time. You spin in his arms, turning to face him. Hair still mussed from sleep, shirtless, smiling down at you – unfairly handsome in the morning light. 

“What? Not hungry?” he asks, a faint amusement lacing his tone.

Your hands find their way to his chest, your pinky grazing the raised, puckered outline of one of his scars. While curiosity might eat away at you, you’ve never quite mustered the courage to ask him about them.

You’ve heard enough of the rumours that swirl around Oikawa; they won’t be pretty stories. 

“We can’t keep doing this. You have to stop.”

He laughs, surprise flitting across his face, “Me? If I remember correctly, you were more than eager to get those lovely hands of yours on me last night.”

“That’s not–” you break off with a flustered huff, cheeks warming. “That’s not what I meant, stop twisting my words! You work for my father, I can’t keep– we can’t keep doing this.”

A little of the mirth in his expression fades at that, “You don’t think I can handle keeping you safe while we’re sleeping together, ‘s that it?”

“He’s paying you to keep me safe. I’m a job, Oikawa, that’s it. That’s all.” You bite back a sigh, shifting to put some distance between you two – as much as his grip will allow. “This is a bad idea, you know it as well as I do. In a few weeks, or months–”

“So?” he asks, cutting you off. “He can’t say I’m not doing an excellent job, keeping such a careful, close eye on his beloved daughter,” the hands the rest on your waist slide down to your ass, squeezing it appreciatively as he closes the gap between you once more. The grin he wears is nothing short of devilish – not to mention incredibly self satisfied – his mouth a hairsbreadth from your own. He continues, “I’m keeping you safe, satisfied and very, very happy. If anything, I should be getting paid extra for that.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s how he’ll see it.”

Oikawa leans forward, kisses the tip of your nose, and then your lips. 

“I’d kill for you, how many other guys can say that, hm?” When the joke fails to garner a response, he sighs. “We’re not breaking any rules, and I’m not going anywhere. Stop overthinking it.”

—

In the days following the first threats made against your father, the idea of having a bodyguard shadowing your every step seemed laughable. Ridiculous. You weren’t some darling, young starlet with creepy, obsessive fans. Not a witness set to testify in some groundbreaking criminal case.

No, you’re simply collateral, caught up in a mess of your father’s making, one that has nothing to do with you. 

That you love him in spite of it is an immutable fact. You’ve tried hard – so, so hard – to distance yourself. To separate the life you’re trying to lead and the good you’re trying to do from the shadowy reach of his legacy. 

In any case, you felt perfectly comfortable brushing aside his offer of protection. You neither wanted nor needed someone monitoring your every move under the guise of keeping you safe. 

And then the focus of the threats turned to you. To your step-mother. To Ryo, your little brother – a kid. 

Your father, a man unaccustomed to hearing the word ‘no’, introduced Oikawa the very next morning and would not budge on the issue. ‘You do not have to like him,’ he’d said. ‘But he’ll keep you out of harm’s way, and you will listen to him.’

It was – is – an adjustment. 

Those closest to you, your friends, your work colleagues – the ones you interact with on a daily basis at any rate – have all been made aware of the truth behind his presence. For everyone else–

“Don’t mind him, Oikawa’s my new assistant,” you explain to the hotel’s manager, smiling sweetly at her bemused expression.

Oikawa matches it with one of his own, saccharine and glittering. 

A cup of tea is set out before each of you by one of the hotel’s employees, and he thanks her quietly, swirling the cup round in its saucer to better reach the bone china handle. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a smooth, slow sip. 

“I’m really just here for the free tea and cake.”

One look at the blushing manager, and you can tell she’s thoroughly charmed – which is the only reason you abstain from kicking him under the table. 

“Ignore him, please. I had a thought about letting some of the kids come up and talk on stage as part of the opening speeches, but I wanted to make sure that wouldn’t push us too far behind with the entertainment.” There’s a slight nudge at your thigh, “And um, we also wanted to run through the security measures, if possible.”

Her brow wrinkles, “Security, I– well, we’ll have doormen to check the guest list, and I suppose we could have some of our security staff posted near the ballroom exits if you’d like?”

You nod, “Yes, that’ll be–”

“You should have a few dressed to blend in with the crowd, mingling throughout the room, regular security at the stairs, and we’d like some guards working the backstage area as well,” Oikawa interjects. “Considering the guest list, not to mention the A-list performers we’ve hired for the night, the least they can ask of us is to ensure we’re making their safety and security a priority, no?”

“All these extra measures are a little last minute, don’t you think? The gala’s tomorrow night!” 

On the brink of exasperation, she looks to you, no doubt expecting you to rein in your employee. 

You simply smile, folding your legs over one another, taking a moment to indulge in the tea you’d been so graciously provided. “We chose this hotel as our venue for a reason, I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about you and your staff. A few added security measures shouldn’t be too difficult for your staff to accommodate. As my assistant said,” your eyes slide to Oikawa’s, a faint hint of a warning there, “we simply want to ensure everyone has a safe, enjoyable evening so that the foundation can raise as much as we possibly can.”

“… Of course,” she concedes.

“Perfect! So, let’s get back to the opening speeches.”

And so it goes, the two of you discussing the final touches and small details for the event you’ve spent months bringing to fruition, the foundation’s first charity gala. 

Untouched by your father’s hand, you built this foundation from the ground up, it’s yours – your baby. Your pride and joy. 

You think nothing of it when Oikawa excuses himself to take a call. He doesn’t leave the room – he won’t risk straying that far – and you’re distantly aware of the quiet tones of his voice speaking into his phone. You pay it no mind, focused on closing out your meeting with all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed. 

By the time the meeting’s finished, you’re thrilled. 

Naturally, there’s still plenty you have left to do; one last check in with the caterers, you have to go and pick up your dress, and there’s the debrief with your team. You’ll have to come back to the hotel early tomorrow to make sure that the set up runs smoothly and nothing’s slipped through the cracks. 

Regardless, promising that you’ll touch base first thing in the morning and thanking her again, you can’t quite tamp down your excitement, or the giddy little grin you wear, exiting the hotel with Oikawa. 

At least, until he stops you just shy of the town car waiting out front, his hand on your arm, murmuring your name. 

“What, what is it?”

He appears almost hesitant. Regretful, certainly. “There was another threat delivered to the main house today…”

Your stomach sinks. 

You can see it written across his face, know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “Don’t, don’t you dare–”

“There’s too many variables, I am not putting you on the stage in a dark, crowded room–”

You throw your hands up in a huff. “Fine! I won’t speak then.”

“You’re not going at all. Shizuku can do your speech, the team has everything else handled. I am not risking your safety, point blank.”

“That’s not your decision!”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow, “It is. You can be pissed at me all you want–”

“We’ve been working on this for months! Oikawa, this is the most important night of our entire year – we need this funding. The kids need this funding! You can go as my date, you’ll have every excuse to spend the entire night glued to my hip. We just got them to agree to all that extra security stuff you wanted, what more do you need? Don’t ask me to sit at home because of some baseless, stupid threat, please!”

You hate that your voice sounds so desperate, so pleading – but it’s frustration, not disappointment that’s to blame for the thick lump that chokes you up. The hot tears that sting in the corner of your eyes. 

“I’m not asking.” 

The callousness hits you like a slap in the face.

All that anger, that mounting, seething frustration, it cools in an instant, settling like a rock in your stomach. Without another word you turn and climb into the backseat, slamming the car door behind you.

If that’s how it is, fine. 

Oikawa joins you a moment later, rattling off instructions to the driver. 

The two of you have argued before, more times than you care to count. As charming as he thinks he is, Oikawa’s equally capable of being obnoxious, annoying, rude, arrogant, the list goes on. This is the first time it’s truly mattered, though. Maybe that’s why the cold dismissal – his refusal to give so much as an inch – stings more than it should.

“Don’t make me the bad guy here,” he murmurs when the silence between you grows too heavy to bear. “I won’t apologise for putting your safety first.”

He reaches for your hand then; a peace offering, an olive branch. You yank it back before his pinky can so much as brush against yours, lacing them together over your lap.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. That’s what you’re being paid for, right?”

—

Days later and the elephant in the room remains firmly lodged between you two. 

It’s hard to justify anger towards someone who claims they’re only making your life difficult because there are people out there actively trying to hurt you and your family. At the same time, Oikawa’s insistence on smothering you under new ‘security measures’ isn’t doing him any favours.

Driving home from work, the twinkling lights of the city speeding past in a blur, the purring hum of the engine a comfort in the otherwise silent car, you can only wonder how much longer this’ll go on for.

How much more of it you can take.

“I have a date tomorrow night,” you admit in a quiet voice. “A friend of a friend, she’s been trying to set us up together for months now.” 

You glance at Oikawa then – hesitant, searching his face. Momentary surprise flickers there, and then he simply raises an eyebrow, “Oh? And you’re telling me this because you want me to give the two of you a little privacy, right? I guess it would be slightly awkward to have the last guy you were fucking watching from the next table over.”

Though his tone is perfectly pleasant, there’s no disguising the razor sharp bite of the words themselves. Guilt stabs at your insides, twisting like a knife. “That’s not what I–” 

You’re so tired of arguing with him. Tired of all of this. Your hands can’t lie still, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your skirt, and though your attention falls to your lap, you can’t escape the weight of Oikawa’s watchful eyes, following your every move. 

Waiting on the verge of impatience for you to dig yourself deeper. 

You sigh, wetting your lips. “I’m not interested in him. This isn’t about that. I just… I can’t do this with you, Oikawa. I can’t handle every detail of my day – what I do and who I see – being monitored and micromanaged. I can’t handle you acting like a glorified babysitter and then still trying to get into my pants the moment we’re alone. I just– I need one night without that, that’s all.”

Maybe that’s a selfish thing, a stupid decision. You’d made it at the drop of a hat, your friend gushing over this guy over the phone for the umpteenth time. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a favourite gun, and that was good enough for you. 

Oikawa snorts out a laugh, “If you’ve got an itch you need scratched, I’m more than happy to offer my services, pretty girl,” he drawls, low and lecherous, grinning so condescendingly you’re honestly tempted to slap him. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you run off to play date night with some asshole you know next to nothing about when there’s a target on your back and I’m the one keeping you safe, understand?”

You’d anticipated some kind of resistance – Oikawa arguing over where you’d go, wanting the names of the guy in question, the friend who set the two of you up, all of it.

The possibility he’d outright refuse hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

You open your mouth to argue the point, only to close it softly a heartbeat later. Why bother? What good would arguing do when you’re perfectly aware that he has no intention of budging on the subject.

Which isn’t to say that you’re letting him off the hook entirely.

 “Careful, you’re sounding awfully jealous there, Tooru.”

His eyes widen a fraction, but it’s delight, not aggravation, that gleams in those deep, brown depths. “Do you want me to deny it?” he challenges, the car pulling to a stop out the front of your apartment block. “You wanna know what I think?”

Not particularly, but that’s never stopped him before.

“You want me just as much as I want you, you know we’re good together. You accuse me of being jealous, yet you’re the one running scared, jumping at the first, half-baked opportunity presented so you can lie and tell yourself that you’re not missing me.”

“Please,” you scoff, unable to help yourself. “You’d have to be gone for me to miss you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Rolling your eyes and biting back a huff, you nevertheless accept the hand he offers to help you out of the car, the two of you making your way inside. He greets the porter by the door, inclining his chin in a short nod, and calls the elevator with a swipe of your keycard – the one he’d snatched right out of your hand the very day he’d met you.

All in the name of doing his job and keeping you safe, of course. 

‘Well what if I need to use the stupid lift and you’re not around?’

‘Unless you’re planning on ditching me, I don’t see that being a problem, do you?’

Impossible, right from the start. 

While Oikawa leans against the mirrored walls, smug and all too self satisfied, you snatch your phone from your purse, angrily typing up a quick message to your friend about tomorrow night. No doubt she’ll think you’re being overdramatic, if not outright lying – she, however, doesn’t have to contend with Oikawa on a daily basis.

By the time you reach your apartment, you’re tired, grumpy and itching for a glass of wine and a nice long soak in the bathtub. 

You’re only half paying attention, impatient to kick off your heels and soothe the day's stresses – you don’t notice that the door’s hanging ajar, at least not immediately. Oikawa does, his whole body tensing, eyes alert and cautious. 

The second you try to move, his arm’s there, outstretched to keep you at bay while he hastily tries to shut the door and obscure your view.

Not quickly enough.

Through the crack, you see it; the crimson splashed across your living room, stark and hideous against the white tile floors. 

Blood. 

It’s everywhere. Dripping from the lampshade, down the walls, pooling on the tiles.

Red, red, red, spattered and sprayed like the set of a b-grade slasher flick. And the smell, coppery and pungent, sitting in the back of your throat as bile creeps up to meet it. 

No one person can bleed that much, can they? 

Your breath comes quick; short, heaving little gasps far too shallow to do you any good. Your limbs feel weightless, weak – a stumbling step backwards almost sends you to the ground. Nausea churns in your guts, threatening to upheave. 

All that blood… Your apartment–

They– they were in your home. 

And a sudden thought occurs to you, a fresh wave of horror sinking its claws in deep. Without stopping to think, you lurch forward, desperate to get inside. Arms seize your waist, yanking you back, and you let out a blood curdling shriek, thrashing against the grip.

In the haze of your blind panic, you recognise that it’s Oikawa’s voice, speaking in your ear in a low, urgent tone. You don’t care, you can’t make sense of the words anyway, not amidst the overwhelming fear, the terror and the pounding of your racing heart. 

“Ryo–” you choke out, struggling to get free, “I have to– h-he might be–”

“He’s not in there. He’s not in there!” Wrangled back from the door, he all but shoves you against the wall, caging you in close as your fists beat weakly against his chest, your pleas little more than whimpers. He exhales heavily, moving in closer to press his forehead against yours. “He’s at home, with your father. They’re not in there, I promise. We have to go.”

He takes your hand, leads you one step after another, murmuring reassurances the whole way. 

You’re numb to it. 

You don’t remember much, the ding of the elevator, stale air of the underground parking garage and a chill nipping at your skin. An unfamiliar car you’re hastily bundled into. 

Time moves strangely after that, seconds trickling by like the drip of a leaking faucet. 

The car is quiet. Dark. The cityscape out the window a blur that barely registers. Your mind ticks over the same thoughts, a reel stuck playing the same loop over and over; blood splashed across the curtains, the couch. Your apartment – your home – awash with it. The stench of it, clinging to you like perfume. 

No one was hurt.

They were in your home.

You’re fine, Oikawa’s fine. Ryo was never in danger.

They were in your home. 

You let out a shuddering breath, shoulders curling inwards as you draw your knees up to your chest. Oikawa clocks the movement, sparing you an assessing glance from the corner of his eye. 

 “… Where–” you wince at the raw sound. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the main house. Your father’s been alerted, he’s expecting us.”

Ah. Where else?

Your father has ‘round the clock guards at every entrance, high tech, expensive security systems. You’d be with your family, safe and protected within the walls of the home you grew up in. The minute he’d heard what’d happened, your father would’ve demanded Oikawa bring you back without delay. 

Despite that, you find yourself shaking your head, “I… I don’t want Ryo– he’ll get upset if he sees me like this,” you mumble into your knees. “He’s already scared. Please.”

He looks at you again, properly this time. There’s a muscle working in his jaw, long fingers drumming against the leather of the steering wheel. 

You’ve seen him angry before, irritated. Never like this.

Every breath he draws in is tight and controlled, his features set like granite. You only catch sight of it when the yellow glow of the street lights outside wash over you both in thick swathes; the cold fury that lurks in the black pits of his irises, held back like a caged beast. 

It should scare you – it does, a bit. The man sitting next to you feels like a stranger, and yet you force yourself to hold that stare, not to shy away.

Oikawa won’t hurt you. 

Whatever seethes beneath the surface, it’s not directed your way – you can’t say how you know that for certain, only that you do. 

But neither one of you can return home to your family tonight, not when you’re both so wound up and strung out. You’ll beg on your hands and knees if that’s what it takes to sway him. Ryo’s already afraid enough as it is.

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs as you wait in tense silence. 

Oikawa considers you for a moment longer, mutters a curse under his breath and casts a look back over his shoulder, throwing the car into a sudden – and very illegal – u turn. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I hope you realise that,” he groans, but the words lack the hard, clipped edge they’d carried before. 

He takes you instead to an apartment downtown; nondescript, small, tidy. The furniture appears new, fitting in with the same clean, monochromatic colour scheme as the rest of the apartment. There’s books on the coffee table, bland art lining the walls, cushions on the couch, a knitted beige comforter tossed over the armrest. It’s… fine, if not a little soulless. 

Turning to face Oikawa, you lift an eyebrow, “You… live here?” you ask.

The brunet’s lips quirk upwards, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. “Not often. It’s a foxhole, one of a few I have, actually. This one just so happened to be the closest.” At your confused expression, he continues, “Think of it like a hideaway. There’s no paper trail tying me to this place and very few people who know of its existence. We can lie low here for a few days while we figure everything out.”

Somewhere that can’t be tracked, because there are men out there who want you dead. Faintly, you nod, trying your best to ignore the pool of dread sitting heavy in your gut. 

There’s no pretending the threats aren’t real anymore. 

But you’re safe here, with Oikawa. No one’s coming to hurt you tonight. 

Exhausted, your whole body aching, you shower under a scorching spray, drying yourself off and pulling on one of Oikawa’s old shirts to sleep in (‘We’ll get you some proper clothes tomorrow,’ he’d promised). There’s only one bed in the tiny apartment, and even if you could find it within yourself to care, you’re altogether too drained to say anything when, after a quick shower of his own, Oikawa crawls in beside you. 

He’s warm and solid, the scent of him familiar as his arm slides over your middle, drawing you close. 

“I’m not going to let anyone touch you,” he murmurs into the dark. “I’ll kill them first. You’re safe with me.”

—

Two days later, your father summons you home.

Oikawa’s curtly dismissed at the door, left to his own devices. You, meanwhile, are taken into the study, tea is poured, and the conversation, naturally, shifts towards the break in at your apartment. 

“You can always stay here with us, little one, for as long as you’d like. Ryota would be thrilled to have you back.” Your father smiles, setting the steaming cup down. “As would I.”

The childhood endearment makes your heart tug. You’ve spent too long clawing your way free of his influence to do some good in the world, to return home now, no matter how tempting the thought, would undo that in seconds. 

“I know,” you reply. “And I appreciate it, dad. Oikawa’s taking me tomorrow to see a few apartments, though, so hopefully we’ll find something that works.”

He makes a dissatisfied noise, mouth tightening. “Yes, well considering this happened under Oikawa’s watch, perhaps you should rethink the weight you place in his judgement.”

“It’s because of Oikawa that they broke into my apartment. He never gave them an opening to come after me directly, so they tried to scare me instead.” Tried, and succeeded, mind you. “You’re the one who hired him,” you grumble.

“I hired him to protect you, nothing more,” he replies sternly. “If you’re put at risk again I will not hesitate to replace him with someone better suited.”

Peering down at you from behind wire frame glasses, he considers you for a moment – the same weighty, assessing stare he’d give you when, as a kid, he thought you were misbehaving. “I am not so blind that I cannot see what is happening in front of my own eyes. You’re close with him, you… trust him.”

“Am I not supposed to?” Wasn’t he the one telling you you had to listen to Oikawa?

He doesn’t answer you straight away, seemingly weighing up his response. When he does eventually speak, the words give little comfort. “Oikawa is… a necessary evil. He has the temperament and skill set which make him a natural choice in protecting you – they’re also what make him dangerous. If your life weren’t at risk I would not want you within a thousand yards of that man.”

You think back to the scars that litter Oikawa’s torso. The look in his eyes that night, the tempest raging, violent and volatile. 

It’s not as though you ever believed Oikawa to be a saint – if his association with your father wasn’t proof enough, the frankly alarming number of weapons you’d stumbled across, stashed throughout the foxhole certainly did the trick.

You grew up surrounded by men like that. Your father, your uncles. Business associates invited to dinner. None of them ever frightened you.

Unease slithers down your spine.

Satisfied, perhaps, that his warning struck home, your father straightens in his chair and clears his throat. “Enough of that. Come, drink – your tea’s getting cold.”

He keeps you there for a little while longer, to indulge in another cup and talk of other, lighter subjects; your work with the children’s foundation, Ryo’s progress at school (he’s becoming quite the little scientist), to the gardens that surround the estate, the cherry blossom trees set to bloom in a matter of weeks. 

On your way out, he asks for you to send in Oikawa. 

It takes you less than a minute to find him – sitting cross legged on the living room floor, deep in conversation with your seven year old brother. Ryo’s the one to spot you first, his whole face lighting up. Discarding the open book he’d had splayed across his lap, your brother jumps to his feet and barrels towards you with a delighted shriek of your name, arms outstretched. You catch him with a grin, squeezing back when he hugs you firmly.

“Careful, bud” Oikawa laughs, “you’ll knock her right off her feet.”

You ruffle Ryo’s hair. His mom would say the unruly locks are desperately in need of a trim – you think it suits him, reminds you of a wild thing. “Please, this little guy? Light as a feather.”

The indignant grumble you get in response, his face still buried in your middle only makes your grin widen. 

Still sprawled across the floor like a kid himself, Oikawa meets your gaze with a warm one of his own, something in your chest fluttering at the sight of it. He looks content, perfectly relaxed here with you and Ryo. 

In that moment, you’re struck with the realisation that he’s not the only one.

Whatever gripped you back in your father’s study, there’s no trace of it now, it holds no bearing here with the two of them. This is the Oikawa you’ve come to know, the one you trust.

The one you like, if the warming of your cheeks is any indication to go by. 

… Maybe it’s time you stopped running from that.

Saved from any further musing by your brother’s attempt to crush the life out of you in one final squeeze, Ryo reluctantly lets you go. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles, his cheeks turning pink. He kicks at the carpet a little, chews at his bottom lip, hesitating just a touch. “… Dad said you’re coming home to stay this time. Are you?” And beneath the wide, puppy dog eyes that tug at your heartstrings with practiced ease (no wonder he has both his parents wrapped around his finger), there’s no hiding the hope glimmering in his tone. 

“I missed you too, squirt.” 

At the mention of your father, however, something else springs to mind, and you turn your attention back to Oikawa. “Oh, almost forgot – he said he wants to see you. He’s in the study, waiting.”

The brunet nods, rising. If he’s bothered by the demand at all, there’s no outward indication. From your own conversation with the man, you can’t imagine he’s about to walk into anything particularly pleasant. Then again, you doubt that whatever your father has in store for him – whether it be lecture or complete verbal evisceration – is in any way anxiety inducing to someone like Oikawa. 

Sauntering past the two of you, he stops for a second, lays a hand on Ryo’s shoulder and leans down to whisper conspiratorially into his ear – just loud enough for his voice to carry. “Why don’t you show your big sister the new project you were telling me about, hm?” 

Ryo lights up again with a giddy gasp, racing from the room, and Oikawa winks at you, breezing on through. 

—

The moment you’re through the door back at the foxhole, he’s on you.

Ravenous, hungry, lips moving feverishly against yours, prying them apart for another taste of you. The clothes he’d bought for you are hastily discarded, thrown to the floor and kicked aside as Oikawa lifts you up, hiking your legs around his waist so he can carry you into the bedroom.

“What’s gotten into you?” you laugh, half breathless when he deposits you on the bed. 

“Do I need a reason?” he retorts, yanking off his shirt and casting it aside. “I’ve been waiting to do this all afternoon.”

He climbs onto the bed then,pushing your shoulders back down the mattress as his lips find yours to kiss you senseless. Your hand meanwhile slips down between your bodies, a feather light touch grazing the bulge in his jeans. 

He moans into your mouth, breath shivery and light, hips bucking ever so slightly to chase the touch. When he draws back, your stomach flips in anticipation at the positively wolfish expression you find there, “Careful, pretty girl,” he warns. 

“Or what?” 

He takes your hand then, pulls it back to his crotch and grinds into it slowly, shuddering, “Or you’re gonna be in for a long, long night.”

You arch up to kiss him, lips finding his throat, the two of you working together to hastily free his cock from the confines of his boxer briefs. 

The moment you’re successful, the hard, flushed length bobbing against his stomach, Oikawa lets a fat glob of spit fall into his palm and takes hold of it, twisting his wrist as he slides his hand back and forth along his cock, groaning and nudging your thighs apart. 

Usually, he likes to take his time prepping you, lowering his mouth to your pretty little pussy, teasing you and edging you until you’re a squirming, hot mess beneath him, all but begging him to hurry up and fuck you. Other times – when he’s in a more selfish mood – he’ll send you to your knees instead, taking his pleasure by fucking your face, fingers curling in your hair, the tight, wet warmth of your mouth too tempting to pass up.

But something feels different this time. More than hunger, or desire, beyond simple urgency. It glints and gleans in his eyes, seeps from his skin like the bead of sweat that trickles down the curve of his neck. 

It crackles like electricity in the air between you. 

And when he drags your hips down close, and pushes his cock deep into your warm, fluttering cunt, it robs you of all words.

True to his promise, Oikawa takes his time. Fucks you on your back, legs locked around his back at first – and then pressed back either side of you, the ache in your thighs second only to the stretch of your pussy, clenching around him with every languid roll of his hips.

He flips you over and draws your ass upwards, your face pressed down into the pillows, pounding into you from behind. 

Hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his throbbing shaft, hungry eyes fixed on the way your tits bounce so enticingly for him. 

And then, when your legs are shaking, pussy leaking his seed and every cell in your body is electrified and buzzing, he lays you down at the edge of the bed and feasts on your poor, sensitive, abused little hole ‘til you’re grabbing at his hair, bucking up and writhing on his tongue, screaming yourself hoarse from an overload of pleasure. 

Only then does he allow you rest, kissing you sweetly as he slips from your side and exits the bedroom. 

He returns moments later with a glass of water, which you gratefully accept and guzzle down. Collapsing back on the bed, you let out a groan, “I feel like I could sleep for the next thousand years.”

He chuckles. Climbing onto the mattress to flop down beside you, Oikawa rolls close, smiling with a soft look you’ve only ever seen directed at you. “So sleep. We’ve got an hour or so ‘til dinner, a nap won’t kill you.”

—

You wake to the sound of a car backfiring.

Eyes bleary, disoriented, you struggle to gather your wits as the door to the bedroom flies open. Oikawa appears in the doorway, still wearing his pajamas, gun in hand, eyes focused and alert – and it’s then, in the dim, early morning light that you realise that the sound you heard wasn’t a car at all.

With his handgun and attention trained on the front door, Oikawa spares you only the briefest of glances, “Get up, we need to go. Now.” 

Your heart skips a beat, chest tightening as the reality of the situation – at least, as much as your sluggish brain can piece together – dawns upon you. 

Questions, one after another, claw their way up your throat, desperate and urgent, terrified, you force yourself to swallow them down, along with the near paralysing fear that takes hold. There’s no time for that. No time to panic. Pausing only long enough to ascertain that you are in fact somewhat clothed – an old tee of his and a pair of sleep shorts you must’ve thrown on at some point last night – you scramble to Oikawa’s side. 

Any reassurance you feel at the grip he takes of your hand is quickly and overwhelmingly buried, however, when you catch sight of the dark mass by the entryway. 

Your stomach lurches, blood running cold. It’s a body – a man’s. The room’s not yet light enough to get a good look at his face, but the open, unblinking eyes and the sticky looking pool beneath him tell you plenty.

Dead. 

“Don’t look,” Oikawa murmurs.

His fingers tighten around your hand in a reassuring squeeze, already pulling you onwards. Like a bad accident, tearing your eyes away is easier said than done.

That man, he… he’d come here for you, hadn’t he? To kill you. 

You’ve never seen a dead body before, and now there’s one lying across your living room floor, riddled with bullets from Oikawa’s gun and that–

That could’ve been you. Would’ve been, if not for Oikawa.

Your chest constricts, a noose tightening at your throat. And just like that night at your apartment, the fear that takes root begins to strangle you, making it hard to breathe, harder to think.

Every uneven thump of your heart rattles your chest, your limbs feeling like they’re disconnected from the rest of you. Oikawa notices, and curses softly beneath his breath. There’s no time to coax you down, his grip turns iron, half running now down the fire door stairs with you stumbling behind him.

Somewhere above you, shouts begin to sound, and with a fresh wave of terror hammering through your veins, you force your legs to move quicker. There’s no choice but to run, to duck and cower when the creaking door to the floor above swings open and Oikawa abruptly yanks you forward to fire up the stairwell behind you. 

Bare feet pounding against the floor, chest heaving with ragged breaths, you burst out into the parking garage, and still you don’t stop. 

For the second time in less than a week, you’re corralled into a car, shaking and numb, on the verge of outright sobbing.  

Oikawa drives for a long time.

You don’t ask where you’re going, if they’re still following you. You don’t speak. 

The traffic on the streets thins out, the towering skyscrapers disappearing in the rearview mirror. Wherever he’s taking you, it’s not towards home.

And there’s a pit in your stomach, a bleak, festering emotion that grows harder and harder to ignore with every passing mile. Oikawa’s silence – tense and uncomfortable, only adds to your unease. 

This isn’t like last time, when he was angry beyond words. This feels… different, somehow. 

When you’re well beyond the city limits, he pulls the car to a stop on the side of a deserted stretch of road and turns it off, leaving the keys in the ignition. 

“There’s a phone in the glove box, can you get it for me?” 

Doing as he asks, you pop the compartment open, only to cringe when the first thing your fingers brush over isn’t a cell, but the cool metal of a handgun. Nevertheless, you keep going, eventually finding the black phone tucked away near the back and wordlessly passing it into Oikawa’s waiting palm.

He smiles at you, leans over the console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Thanks. Stay here, alright? Gotta make a quick call.” 

He’s already dialling, smoothly exiting the car before the words truly register. 

You’re helpless to do anything but watch anxiously from the passenger’s seat, fingers worrying away at the hem of Oikawa’s shirt. Seconds tick by – nothing. No one picks up. No one answers. 

A small frown graces his features. Glancing into the car to check up on you, Oikawa simply ends the call, dials another number, holds the phone to his ear, and waits for whoever’s on the other end of the call to pick up. 

… But nobody does. The phone rings out.

He spares you another brief glance then, your wide, worried eyes meeting his. His brow furrows, the edges of his lips thinning into a hard line and before you can call out to ask him what’s wrong, who he’s trying to get ahold of, he’s moving away from the car and out of earshot. 

This time, he seems to take longer to find the number he’s after, drawing the phone back to his ear, foot tapping away as it rings and rings and rings. 

You don’t realise that you’re holding your breath, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand until you see him speaking into his cell, nodding at whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.

Yet that reprieve, unlocking the breath trapped in your lungs, soothing over all of your tension and that awful, gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach lasts only as long as it takes for you to realise that Oikawa, staring at you from yards down the road, looks entirely too grim for the relief that you’re feeling.

He ends the call with a heavy exhale, shoulders slumping.

Your heart stops cold in your chest.  

One look at his pained expression, the pity swirling in his eyes, the sympathy, and your whole world comes crashing down around you.

Fingers fumbling for the door latch, you unbuckle your seatbelt to stagger to your feet, lurching towards him. Oikawa reaches you first, letting you collide into his arms, pulling you close. 

“He– he’s fine, right?” you beg in a thick, trembling voice, trying in vain to blink back hot tears. “Ryo’s fine. They both are. They’re okay. Tell me they’re okay. Please, Tooru, you have to– you have to tell me that they’re–”

As words fail you, Oikawa sighs. With a gentleness that shatters something inside of you, he cups your cheek in his palm, brushing away your tears, and presses his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry. They… they hit the house before they came for us. No one made it out.”

No… no, no, no, no, no. That’s not true. You clutch at him, desperately shaking your head. Ryo can’t be dead, he’s only seven. He’s just a kid, an innocent, good kid. He’s your little brother.

He can’t be dead.

But Oikawa’s looking at you so brokenly, and you feel like somebody’s ripped you open from the inside out and saved your heart for last of all. You open your mouth to beg for him to tell you he’s lying, but all that comes out is a sobbing wail. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, holding you close, cradling you against him. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

—

The soft sound of leather shoes walking atop marble tiles echo throughout the empty halls of your father’s estate. 

There’s no need for Oikawa to disguise his presence now – not that there was much of one to begin with. 

The staff had opened the door without blinking, welcoming him inside, the guards on rotation nodding in acknowledgment when he strode past. They might not particularly enjoy his presence (no accounting for taste, he supposed) but after months working for the patriarch to keep you safe, they’d come to begrudgingly accept it. 

In their eyes, he was one of them, and so no one thought to stop him and ask why he’d shown up at the estate so late in the night, seemingly without reason. Without you.

It made picking them off one by one that much easier. 

Well, not all of them. He had left one alive – unconscious, possibly paralysed, but breathing all the same. Oikawa smirks. 

With the guards and household staff dispatched, he’d turned his attention towards the bedrooms. 

Ryota was first. Fast asleep, clutching the teddy-bear you’d bought him, your baby brother hadn’t stirred when Oikawa crept in with the shadows. He made it quick. Painless. As much of a mercy as a man like him was capable of. 

The kid’s mom was next; the second wife, the replacement. The money hungry, greedy, vapid little cunt. 

It was no secret that your father had been married before, that his first wife – your mother – had died after a long, tragic battle with cancer when you were sixteen. The first time he’d tried bringing it up, you’d shut him down and quickly changed the subject, but in the end, all it took was one too many glasses of wine, a few stories of his own, and those pretty lips of yours were spilling all sorts of interesting secrets.

That your step-mother was fucking him before she was even cold in the ground was one such fascinating tidbit. 

While he’d felt a slight twinge of guilt over killing the boy, Oikawa had no such qualms shooting her while she slept, the silencer on his pistol ensuring it raised no alarm, just like the others. 

While you’d mourn for your beloved baby brother, he knows you won’t shed any tears for that bitch. He wonders if you’d even thank him for it, if he ever decided to tell you the truth.

A pleasant shiver rolls down his spine at the thought of how sweetly you’d go about it.

Presently, he raises a fist to knock at the door of your father’s study, one final goal in mind.

“Come in,” a deep voice replies.

Oikawa has to give the older man some credit, one look at him – gun in hand, the flecks of blood spattered against his crisp, white shirt – and your father stills, the colour draining from his face. He doesn’t panic, though, doesn’t shout or cry out for help, much less for mercy.

They both know none is coming. 

Instead, he sets down the papers he’d been working on and rises slowly from his chair. No doubt he has at least one gun stashed nearby, but with Oikawa’s pointed towards his chest, the brunet’s index finger poised on the trigger, and his better years behind him, the odds don’t fall in his favour.

“My wife?”

Oikawa grins, clicking his tongue, “Dead.”

He nods, taking a moment to process the information. “And… my son?” 

“Dead.”

“… I see.”

Oikawa’s heard more than one person accuse your father of being a cold, heartless bastard. It’s an easy assumption to make – no one gains a reputation like his without a certain brutality and overall disregard for the lives of others. The truth is simpler; your father does have a heart, it resides in both of his children. While his voice might not shake at the news of his son’s demise, his hands, splayed out over the papers on his desk, most certainly do.

He swallows with difficulty, takes in a trembling breath, “My daughter, I assume you killed her, too?”

“God, no,” he laughs. “She’s sleeping, safe and sound, blissfully oblivious to all of this.” 

And for the first time since Oikawa crossed the threshold, a look of confusion adorns your father’s face. Before he can give voice to it, however, the brunet decides to nudge the conversation along. The drugs in your system will only keep you down for so long, and there’s still plenty he has left to do before the two of you can have your fresh start. 

“You seem to be under the impression that I’m working for the people who want you and your family wiped from the map. I’m not. I’m simply making the best of an opportunity." He sighs, shrugging, “We could have avoided this nastiness, you know. Maybe not indefinitely, but for a little while at least. All of this, it’s your fault; you gave me a gift, and then,” his smile turns sharp, an edge of anger bleeding through, “you threatened to take her away.”

There are worse fates than death. 

“If it gives you any solace,” Oikawa murmurs, the soft, placating tone at odds with the cruel twist of his vicious grin. “I intend to keep my promise. She’ll be safe with me, no one will ever lay so much as a finger on her.”

No one, that is, except for him. 

[cloudcountry]

I don't know if you still taking Fellow's rqs, buut-

fireworks awhile first kiss with Fellow Honest has been in my mind 🤓

SUMMARY: you and fellow talk things through under a fireworks show.

WARNINGS: none!!

COMMENTS: OUF I WENT HARD ON THIS ONE

unedited as always for i am eepy

TAGLIST: @yanderepuck

The lights are brighter and more beautiful than ever tonight. You hope it's not just you that notices.

Sparing a glance at Fellow, you notice that his gaze is more alive than usual. Maybe it’s the fireworks display. Maybe it’s your yearning. Maybe it’s your imagination, trying desperately to grasp at straws that could lead to the conclusion that he loves you back.

The conclusion is that he knows why you’ve stayed with him, even though he fears not being able to provide enough for you, enough for Gidel, enough for the three of you.

You don’t think he understands. You wish you had the courage to explain it to him.

“Do you like it?” he asks, finally breaking the silence between the two of you with some simple small talk.

It makes you squirm.

“The fireworks?” you ask, as if clarification is needed. It’s not like he asked if you like him. It’s not like you wish he did.

“Yes, the fireworks.” he answers, his words trailing off in a gentle sigh.

It must be hard to run this show.

You turn your gaze back up to the fireworks, gnawing at your lower lip. Silence falls between you two, and you wish it was anything but.

“Listen...” Fellow breaks it again, and in the corner of your eye you can see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

He says your name.

You turn to face him and he’s close, he’s too close, and your heart nearly pops out of your mouth.

“Listen. I know I don’t deserve you and I know I’m just some guy that going to mess up and everyone around you knows you deserve better, even Gidel does and he wants you to stay with us just as much as I do, but I—” he groans and digs his hands into his hair, resting his elbows on his knees as he avoids your gaze.

“Fellow?” you murmur tentatively, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “What is it?”

“Please don’t leave.” he jolts up, clasping your hands on his, “I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave. I can’t force you to stay because my heart won’t let me and that’s so confusing but I can’t help it.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere! Where did this come from?!” you rip your hands out of his grasp and sandwich his face in your hands.

He stops talking immediately, eyes darting around the ground.

He doesn’t know. That much is obvious.

“Look, Fellow...I don’t want to leave. I want to be here with you and Gidel. I don’t care if you think I deserve better because I can make those decisions for myself. I would have walked out of here if I didn’t want what you have. So please don’t say those things, alright?”

He hesitates.

“Alright.” Fellow relents, a soft smile touching his lips, and you work up the nerve to do something you’d been wanting to do forever.

You grab his hands and press two kisses to his palms, curling his fingers into fists to protect your gift. He stands there, slack-jawed, cheeks burning pink.

“A...Anyway!” you push his hands back towards his body, whipping around to face the fireworks again, “I’m not leaving! So make sure you remember that, okay?”

“Can I...return the favor?” Fellow murmurs like he didn’t even hear what you said, like his mind has been wiped clean at the touch of your lips on his skin.

Your cheeks burn as you nod, and he descends upon you like he's also been waiting forever.

[subskz]

Imagine Minho being a brat. You're leaving kisses on his chest, while fingering him and (even though he enjoys your sweet kisses) he keeps demanding more, keeps commanding you, keeps complaining that you're not doing a good job. "Fuck- not like that- faster, go faster". And you, being a pretty patient person, decide to indulge him. But Minho keeps up his act. "I said- shit- i said faster- nngh- are you doing a bad job on purpose?" You know he doesn't mean these words, he's just teasing and you're too focused on kissing him to respond anyway, BUT! Your silence is just making him want to keep up his attitude.

"A-are you serious? You know what, just stop. Do something useful and bring me a dildo so that i can get the job done myself."

You knew damn well what he's trying to do. He's saying those things, wanting to rile you up, so that you fuck him harder and show him that he's wrong. Well, you're going to do the exact opposite. You stop your movements and look at him. "Does it really not feel good?" you ask, looking at him with a serious expression on your face. Minho didn't expect that reaction, he expected you to get mad and talk back, so he stayed silent for a moment. Then you started getting up from the bed.

"What- where are you going??" You had to keep yourself from smiling at his panicked voice.

"Umm...to get you a dildo? Like you asked me to?" The look on his face after that was priceless. You wish you knew what's going on in his head right now.

"N-no- i was just- i didn't-" he couldn't believe his plan backfired like that and now, in order to get you to touch him again, to make him feel the way that no other person or toy ever could, he has to swallow his pride and apologize. Watching him avoiding looking at you, struggling to find the right words and the way he's rubbing his thighs together, those pretty thighs shaking, begging for your touch...

English is not my first language, so excuse me if i made any mistakes🫢

no worries at all your english is perfect! 😭 and so is this ask hehe you wrote it so wonderfully~

i absolutely love the idea of besting minho by not falling for his bratty behavior like he wants you to. instead you can break him without even having to lift a finger, treating him softly no matter how much he mouths off until he realizes that all his lil mindgames won’t work on you. it’s honestly cute that he’s too shy to ask you to fuck him harder so he has to resort to provoking you like that, but only way for him to really get what he wants is to spit it out like a good boy 🥰 it makes it a million times more humiliating for him that you don’t even have to be rough to mess up his act and get him begging for you

kissing all over his chest and pretty collarbones while he secretly basks in all your attention <3 i firmly believe lino is weak for having his chest played with so feeling your warm lips press against his pecs and brush over his nipples would heighten the pleasure of you fingering him even more. he hates how it gets harder and harder for him to focus when every pump of your fingers feels so intensely good, like a jolt of electricity passing through his entire body that he can’t get enough of

“are you doing a bad job on purpose?” god u nailed his insufferable antics 😭 he thinks he’s sooo clever trying to cover up how badly he wants more by pretending it doesn’t feel good. poor kitty doesn’t know how to handle it when you see right through his challenge and suddenly he has nothing smart to say anymore~

his thick gorgeous thighs rubbing together so obviously and his pouty face watching you so helplessly would be such a perfect sight. you know you’ve got him right where you want him when he starts squirming around in the sheets, mumbling and stuttering bc he’s so caught off guard. the way “sorry” and “please” sound on his tongue when he finally musters up the courage to murmur them would be so sweet…you can’t help but make him repeat it over n over again before taking pity on him as payback for him being such a fussy brat who can’t use his words properly <3

[thebetawolfgirl]

Back To You

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and smut.

A/N: Grab a snack and a hot beverage and cozy up with this one.

Back To You

She had seen the photos when she landed back in LA, of Timmy in the pool with Eliza. He looked high as anything and absolutely awful. Eliza clearly had him smoking the strong stuff, and she had been trying to contact his agent Mark for two days straight with no success.

She was in her kitchen just wiping down her units when she got an urgent knock on her door. She opened it and gasped as she saw Mark standing there with a terrible looking Timmy before he fell against her wrapping his arms around her tightly and burying his face in her neck.

‘Y/n. I’m sorry.’ He mumbled tearfully.

She held him against her tightly and set her glare on a sheepish looking Mark.

‘I want him to stay with you for a while, maybe take him somewhere-‘

‘Oh trust me I will be taking him away from here and I won’t be telling anyone ESPECIALLY YOU and those parasites you call his PR team!’ She growled at him laying Timmy on her couch and returning her glare on Mark.

He looked down shamefully ‘I didn’t think she would get him so high. He smokes weed with Scott sometimes-‘

‘NOT THIS MUCH!’

After she kicked Mark out of her house she called her older brother to come for them and take them to the lake house she inherited from her grandfather. She packed a suitcase for both of them and woke Timmy up just as Josh drove into her driveway, Timmy was still kind of out of it so she and her brother had to walk him to his pickup and put him in the back seat.

She and her brother drove to the pier silently, although Josh knew his sister was fuming. She had been trying to get in contact with Timothée’s agent for two days to demand he get him away from Eliza. She was a beautiful woman to be sure, but she was also well known to be antisemitic and very anti-Jewish. Or so y/n had heard from many people.

They arrived at the pier and thankfully it was quiet so they got everything onto the boat and then helped Timmy on and under the well furnished deck, y/n closed the door from the outside and sighed.

‘You need to do something about this y/n.’ Josh whispered so as not to be overheard. ‘They can’t keep dumping him onto every greedy celebrity who wants a piece of him. He’s still figuring this world out, this industry. He needs to stand up to them and just tell them no more.’

‘I know Josh!’ Y/n sighed again leaning against the door closing her eyes. ‘I know I need to tell him to set boundaries with his management. But like you said he’s new to this industry. He grew up in New York and around the theatre. And he’s worked his ass off to get where he is now, and he’s always afraid he doesn’t deserve it. He’s so self conscious about his talent. He overthinks every little detail.’

‘And that’s what drew him to you, he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve met in Hollywood. He’s real. And he’s down to earth.’

Josh looks at his sister as she smiles and nods.

‘Maybe this break will give you both the courage you need to finally get together and make it official. Put us all out of our misery.’

She scoffs and shoves him.

‘Get off my boat, I need to get going before it gets dark.’

‘Take care of each other.’

He jumps off as she begins to move out of the dock and sail off towards the mountains that held the large family lake house.

The house was surrounded by a large lake and hidden within even bigger mountains. On the outside it just looked like a family of huge mountains so it was the perfect place to hide a beautiful lake house in the middle of a small island.

Y/n tied the boat to the dock and took the cases into the house first then came out to get Timmy. He was a bit more awake when she went downstairs and she smiled at him as he looked around him.

‘Hey sleepy head, ready to go inside?’

‘Where are we? Last thing I remember was falling into your arms then passing out.’

‘Well after a… talk with Mark we decided it would be better if you and I went on a little break, just until you get back on your feet.’

He nodded and got up slowly and followed her outside, it was getting dark out so there wasn’t much to see but the lights from the house, so they went in and she instantly got him something light to eat then he just wanted to go straight to bed.

The next morning just as the sun was beginning to rise Timmy woke up feeling a lot better after some much needed rest and got up looking for y/n. He found her outside on the front porch and finally saw his surroundings and was in complete shock at the beauty around him. Y/n had never taken anyone here before, this was her sacred place, a sanctuary for her to escape the madness of Hollywood. The fact that she chose to bring him here to recover was everything to him. He walked over and sat down beside her before crawling onto the bench and lay his head on her lap sighing when she began to play with his hair.

‘Did you sleep well?’ He nodded closing his eyes contently.

‘Thank you for bringing me here. It’s beautiful.’

She smiled brushing his curls from his eyes. ‘I thought it was time to share my sanctuary with you. And there’s no better place to heal than this place. No phones, no crowds of people. Just the water and the fresh air.’

‘It’s perfect, thank you. The fact that you trusted me with this means everything to me!’

She smiles and leans forward kissing his temple as they watched the sun rising together.

After they went inside she cooked him breakfast, all of his favourites. Homemade bagels, ham and onion omelette and a bowl of oatmeal. They ate together in peaceful silence then they watched movies. Timmy turned the tv off then and they talked about where they were.

‘I don’t want to do the PR thing anymore, I’m too tired now. I’m so tired y/n. I just want to come home to you at the end of every night and wake up with you every morning. I just want it to be you and me.’

She pulled him against her running her fingers through his hair holding him tightly as he buried his face against her neck.

‘We will talk to Mark when we get home, we will end this once and for all then it can just be us. I promise.’

He nodded against her shoulder breathing her in.

He pushed her back landing on top of her resting his hips between her thighs and nuzzled her neck, shivering as she ran her fingers down his back from his shoulders to his lower back, he arched against her body as her fingers dipped into the curves of his spine and bit down on her shoulder before moving his head slightly to capture her mouth in his and sighed contentedly into the kiss as he began undressing them both. He tore the t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside as she removed her hoodie, and deepened the kiss opening her mouth more for him.

They removed and tossed their bottoms to the floor and he slowly slid into her groaning against her mouth, she gripped a fistful of his long hair as he began moving his hips against hers slowly to start but picked up his pace until he was rutting into her as she kissed and nipped his lips.

He gripped his fingers into the headboard behind her head and began ramming into her harder and faster letting his head falling against her shoulder breaking their heated and sloppy kiss as she clung to him pulling him closer against her panting heavily, he let go of the headboard and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her against him hearing their skin of their hips meeting in loud slaps, he whimpered and moaned into her neck as she grabbed his shoulders and dragged her fingers down his back again reaching the dip in his lower spine that made him completely lose it and caused his body to convulse on top of her before melting against her. It made him twitch and pant, once he actually ripped the bedsheets apart. Her fingers running down his spine her nails scratching him slightly did otherworldly things to him he couldn’t explain. It made him choke out a gasp and made the air leave his lungs.

He gave one last deep thrust before they both came and he was able to breathe again, he trailed his lips down her neck to her shoulder blade while gently biting her skin as they came down from their high covered in a thin layer of sweat.

He rested his head against her collarbone as she ran one hand through his damp hair and the other down his arm their lower bodies tangled together in the sheets, she moved her hand up his shoulder and stroked his face lightly with her fingers, before he took her hand and pressed them to his lips and parted them as he nibbled the skin on her fingertips.

She smiled and giggled feeling his teeth graze her skin.

‘Stop it. If you’re hungry go downstairs and check the fridge.’ She mumbled in to his hair kissing the top of his head.

He grunted and continued his trail down to her wrist and sucked the pulse point there making her gasp and grip his hair tugging gently just enough to pull him back.

He was obsessed with her skin. Even when they started out as friends. He could live on her body alone. She smelled like heaven and tasted even better. When he needed to be calm she would try giving him a bottle of the perfume she wore, but that didn’t work. It was HER. Her own smell. It was like a drug to him. That’s why even though in those pool pics in the papers with him and Eliza they looked cozy when actually every time Eliza came near Timmy and he was holding like that he was ill. It took everything in him not to kiss the woman’s neck and not throw up.

But now he was back with y/n his beloved y/n. He begged Mark to take him to her, begged on his knees and Mark thought he was high as Hell, but he just needed this here right now.

He kissed a trail between her breasts tasting the dried sweat there and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer and buried his face against her neck sucking on the skin lightly before laying down with her and falling asleep again.

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@mel-vaz

@tchalamess

@tchalamss

@natnatj0-8

@lavendarhearts

@ducktapebar

@pmak2002

[ghostofhyuck]

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Everything is still the same, you think.

The streets, the establishments, even the people. Some even greeted you, surprising you but you were quick enough to give them a smile as you continued your walk.

You think that it’s stupid; who even walks on an autumn morning? It was the perfect season to laze around, sleep on your bed, and have a warm cup of coffee inside the comfort of your house. But you were only here for a few days, so striking up a short walk might be a good activity to do in the town since you’ll be leaving sooner.

But the chilly weather can be torture too. You couldn’t help but to rub your arms to warm yourself up. The layers of coat, scarf, and sweater didn’t help you either. Still, it’s been a long time since you went here, so you just made the most out of it.

You find yourself standing in front of a familiar coffee shop, nostalgia hits you as the smell of freshly-baked pastry lingers on your nose. You tapped your coat’s pocket to check if your wallet was with you and as you felt a bump, it was a sign to enter the coffee shop.

“Welcome — oh hey! It’s been so long,” and he still hasn’t changed a bit. Same smile and warm welcome.

“Hey Johnny,” you greeted, eyes locked on the displays of pastries. “Can I have two pieces of red velvet cookies please?”

You watched as Johnny fixed your order and as you two are by the counter, he tells you that it’s on the house.

“What? I can’t accept it,” you tried to place the money on the counter but Johnny’s too strong for you, even resulting in him grabbing your hand just so he could place your money back.

“No no, it’s been so long you know, we kinda miss you having around,” Johnny explains.

There’s a string of hurt from Johnny’s words. You couldn’t help but feel guilty about what happened, you know that both of you don’t have any fault about it but — there’s just something about breaking someone’s heart.

“Is he around?” and finally, you mustered the courage to ask about him.

“He’s out of town, he’ll be back in two days I think,” the same time you’ll be leaving this town. Fate must be playing with you.

“Oh. okay, well I won’t be here around that time, so just tell him I drop by okay?”

“You know you could always call him right?” Johnny replies instead. You became quiet as the older guy gave you an assuring smile before handing you the paper bag.

You bid Johnny goodbye and as the doorbell of the coffee shop chimes, you were welcomed by the cold breeze. You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh as the bag of cookies was still in your hand.

“What an idiot,” you cursed yourself. You half-expecting that he’ll be there. You were expecting that it was him who’ll welcome you and ask you what kind of pastry that you want — not Johnny. But he wasn’t and maybe it was a sign that it’s not really meant to be.

It was stupid. Everything was stupid because you impulsively bought a ticket to his hometown, excusing that it has nothing to do with him when in fact, you just missed him and you missed that town because it became your home for years too.

And now you’re hurting yourself because no matter how small the town is, and how barely there were any changes. You still can’t find him.

You found yourself sitting on a bench near the park’s fountain. It was nothing but cold and lonely because it was the same spot where the two of you would sit and just talk and talk until you two realised that it’s late at night.

It was the same spot where the two of you called it off…whoever decided to call it off, you barely remember, you hardly recall what you two were fighting about. You just know that both of you are tired and perhaps, it was just a sad case of falling out of love.

You remember the paper bag and as you were about to open the bag, you recall Johnny’s words to you. You couldn’t help but be confused with his words, you pondered about it too. What was Johnny trying to say?

But you find yourself fishing out your phone from your jean’s pocket. Opening your contacts and seeing how you never seemed to change his contact name. You wanted to press the call button, but a part of you wishes to leave a little pride to yourself. What's the use of trying to get back with your ex-boyfriend? Will second chances change anything?

But you miss him so much that it hurts. Years of silence and hardly any news from him, you still found yourself going to the place where everything happened. Maybe it was a grave mistake that you booked a flight to the town, because now that you’re here, the place is playing with your feelings.

Yet, you couldn’t do anything when you clicked the call button, muttering curses and “fuck it.”

“You called…” that’s when you know that no matter how many years have passed, your heart still calls for him.

“Hi Mark,” you greeted awkwardly, your hands were shaky but you tried so much to not drop your phone. “Listen, I’m back in town, I was hoping that we could meet maybe, over a cup of coffee?”