#now I’d rather cut off my fucking hand before ever reaching for you again

[mysecret-hideout]

.

[fieldofsecretss]

Jus’ want snuggles-D.M

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (ditsy!hufflepuff!reader) and

Summary: y/n had a very long and tough day and couldn’t wait to feel the comfort of her boyfriend, but it didn’t go as planned.

A little angsty but mostly fluff + rude/mean/grumpy Draco and ditsy overly kind fem!reader

(This one sucks)

——————————————————————

Your shoes were hurting you, your skirt were riding up all the time making you pull it down every five minutes and your head were pounding. The finals were coming up and you felt like you couldn’t ever catch a break from studying and pre-exam anxiety.

You were currently sat in astrology class writing down some notes while your eyes flicked to the front of the class every now and then. Your hand was aching from all the constant writing, and even in this stressed state all you could think of was Draco. How you missed him, how he wind you down in an instant.

And before you knew it the class was dismissed, you packed up all your things and left.

thanks to your horrible shoe chafing you slightly limped through the halls on the way to draco's dorm.

When you reached his door you knocked three times playfully, when he didn’t answer you knocked again and again and again. It ended with you just walking right in, you could remember that Draco always told you that you didn’t have to knock, his dorm is your dorm too. So that’s what you did.

You opened the door slowly, it was cozy inside, the bed was neatly made like always, with blankets at the end of it. Candles were lit and created a yellow-ish light in the room.

“Hello?” You first called out, but no answer. You thought that maybe he wasn’t there yet.

You walked around his dorm a little just inspecting. quite a few books were open on his desk, some notes were also scattered there. you looked at them a bit, you admired his handwriting which was always as clean and nice, which is a little unusual for a guy to have. suddenly the door flew open, making you jump a little in surprise. in stomped a rather angry blonde. you turned to him and gave him a warm smile that soon faded when he started to speak.

“What are you doing in here?” He hissed

“Oh I was ju-“

“Y/n you can’t just welcome yourself inside whenever you feel like it” he cut you off

“But you always say that I can just walk right in” you said in a quiet voice “how was quidditch practice?” You asked to change the subject.

“Fucking Potter cheated as usual, knocked me off my broom” he grunted while he undressed.

“Oh are you okay? Did you get hurt?!” You asked walking closer while holding his arms lightly. But he just pushed you off and walked away.

“I’m fine. M’ gonna take a shower” he said while disappearing into the bathroom. You just stood there in shock, why is he so irritated at you? Without thinking of it any further you followed him to the bathroom, you watched him check the temperature of the water with his hand.

“If you don’t mind I’d like to shower without a audience” he said through a exhausted sigh without even looking at you.

“Oh my bad” you said while backing away slowly, but for some reason you stopped before you reached the door

“Draco?” You called out while nervously playing with your hair.

“What?”

“I just wondered if we could continue reading the book we started on last night-when you’re done showering of course” you asked in hopes of a positive answer and a cozy cuddle session in bed. But he didn’t even answer you.

“I-I mean I’ve had a pretty rough day today actu-“ a scoff interrupted you this time.

“Yeah you’re not the only one here who’s had a bad day y/n”

“Yeah you’re right” you said while leaving. You walked over to where you’d dropped your bag and started your search for a bandaid to put on your chafing wound. But instead you found a little box of cookies that you’d made for Draco in little heart shapes with frosting letters saying

‘love you’ on them. You smiled to yourself when you heard the bathroom door open again and Draco walked out. You stood up and turned to him.

“What’s that?” He asked pointing towards the little cookie box in your hands.

“It’s cookies, I made them last night for you. I know that it’s a difficult time for everybody right now due to the OWLS and stuff, so I thought I’d surprise you with these” you said handing them to him.

He looked at the box and suddenly a pang of guilt flooded over him. His eyes landed on you, you were pale, dark circles under your eyes meant one thing; lack of sleep. He knew you struggled a lot with anxiety and it must be raging for you right now. And still you thought of him. But suddenly you turned to walk out of the door

“Where are you going?” He asked quickly.

“I don’t want to bother you, you’re right I’m not the only one that’s had a bad day today. Besides I have a bad headache and also I need to find a bandaid” you said and takes off your shoe halfway to show your bleeding heel. your gray sock had a dark crimson stain on it. “So I’m going to my dorm”

Draco put the box down onto his bed and took long strides over to you and pulled you in for a long tight hug. The force of it made you gasp. But you returned the hug quickly.

“I’m so so so sorry y/n..I was being an asshole to you” he started apologizing into your neck.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay”

“No! It’s really not okay for me or anyone to treat you like this. Ever. D’you understand?” He pulled away to look at you. You nodded your head.

“All you did was benig an angel as usual, you are so unbelievably selfless and i love you for that, but you need to think about yourself. and I treated you like dirt. like you were just in the way when all you did was be loving and caring” he continued scolding himself.

“Now what were you saying when I interrupted you a minute ago?”

“It’s not important..but I said that I’ve had a really rough day, and that I wondered if we could read together in bed..” you said with big doe eyes and a little pout on your lips. He nodded and kissed your temple before taking your smaller hands in his leading you towards his bed, he sat you down and took off your shoes for you. He was really careful when he came to your hurt foot. He slowly peeled the sock off of your foot. He inspected the wound and frowned. He opened his drawer and took out a bad-aid to put over the wound. Then he planted a soft kiss on top of it.

He then tucked you into bed before laying down next to you. He opened your book and you laid your head on his chest. After reading two chapters you were yawning like a baby kitten. He closed the book and stroked your y/h/c hair soothingly.

“Is there anyway I can make everything up to you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“Jus’ want snuggles, dray..” your eyes were already closed, your lashes kissing your lower lash line. Heavy and calm breaths was the only sound coming from you.

“I’ll give you all the snuggles you want, love” he said kissing your head “I love you baby”

“Hmm..love you too..” you said back, and not long after you’re both sound asleep in each other’s arms.

He knew that he didn’t deserve you and your unconditional love. But he was so happy and thankful for you. And yeah, sometimes he could be a dick, but not intentionally and one thing was for sure, he’d always make up for his mistakes.

——————————————————————

Like I said, this one sucks but I just needed to post SOMETHING on my little blog <3 love you 😘

[kairakeiji]

he’s tired.

sure, that’s easy to decipher by the way his chest races to catch his breath or the sweat that drips from his forehead. but this is a new type of exhaustion that atsumu had yet to face.

“once more then never again.”

your whispers sting like no other when he recalls how he got you back into bed. an arrangement created off a drunken mistake and the best sex the two of you had ever had. one turned to three then five then ten and before you knew it, atsumu handed you a key to his apartment, claiming it’d always be open to you despite still being friends.

it’s infuriating, the way you just pull him in for more, the way you tempt him to confess everytime he sees you the next morning, his shirt draped over your figure as you pour two mugs of coffee. he’s sure he loves you, he’s sure he doesn’t want to see anyone else standing at his kitchen counter other than you.

but the label you’re adamant on keeping keeps him from truly having what he wants.

atsumu would be a fool to notice it, the distance, the way you seemed to refuse to come over, and the way you never stayed the night when you did. he’s watching you slip from his grasp, become out of his reach, and there’s nothing he can do to bring you back to him.

and now you’re buttoning up your shirt, brushing your hair back into place instead of staying in bed with him.

“you’re leaving?” atsumu questions as he sits up.

“i am,” you answer rather simply.

“okay,” he mumbles. “any reason why?”

“i’m busy tomorrow ‘tsumu,” you tell him. “i won’t be able to stay here tonight.”

“you used to be able to,” he counters. “whenever you were busy you’d always make sure to stay the night.”

“well,” you miss a beat. “i just can’t now okay?”

but he continues to pry more, “and why’s that?”

and you hesitate once more, “i just can’t okay?”

“okay fuck this,” atsumu cuts in, voice growing sharper. “are we dating?”

“atsumu what-”

“or are we just fucking? are we even friends at this point? because it doesn’t fucking feel like that anymore.”

“atsumu,” you mumble.

“god i don’t even know anymore,” he almost laughs before running his hands through his hair. atsumu meets your gaze.

“what do you want?”

your eyes widen, “what?”

“if i’ve really just turned into a quick fuck for you then i’d rather us stop being friends.”

you shake your head instantly, “tsumu no no no it’s not like that i swear.”

“then what’s it like then?” he’s close to shouting, doing his best to bite his tongue because he knows he’ll regret it for the rest of his life if he took that tone with you. “because i feel like i’ve barely seen you other than when we’re in bed together-”

“atsumu fuck it’s not like that, i just wanna go before my feelings get any worse!”

the boy’s heart almost stops in his chest at the sudden outburst. your eyes go wide before you quickly cover your mouth. “shit i wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“you have feelings for me?”

you let out a sigh at the boy’s words. “are you really just that stupid?”

“hey!”

“i made it so obvious,” you groan, running a hand through your hair. “that’s why i started distancing, because they were only gonna ruin what we had.”

“it’s not,” he mumbles under his breath. “it really won’t.”

“so if you’ll excuse me i’m gonna he-”

“come back to bed.”

“atsumu,” you sigh. “i really shouldn’t.”

“please,” he tries, “come back to bed, and let’s talk this out.”

and you shake your head instantly, “there’s really no need.”

“there is,” he cuts in, “because i like you too, and i would very much like for you to come back to bed.”

you freeze up at his words, stiffening your hold on your stuff before meeting his gaze, and it’s only then that you realize he truly means every word.

“please?” he tries once more.

and you can only sigh as your bag drops to the floor, opting to let the man you love hold you in his arms once more.

[blueicequeen19]

Take it or Leave it

Warnings: jealous Rafe & JJ, loss of V

I didn’t tear my eyes off her as she stood with Sarah and Kie, laughing and dancing with drinks in their hands. I wasn’t the only one mesmerized. Just about every guy in here was watching them. Especially her with that sweet and innocent vibe she gave off. Sarah and Kie would corrupt her for sure.

“Take your eyes off her before I make you.” A familiar voice scoffs at me. I smile as Rafe Cameron sits down one bar stool down from me, his back to the crowd so no one could see us talking.

“Scared she’ll pick me, Rafe?” I taunt, sipping my drink as I let my gaze trail down her long legs.

“She was with me last night.”

“And she was with me this morning and still is.” We lock eyes for a moment and I think he’s about to hit me when he finally turns away, downing the rest of his scotch.

“She’s not going to be able to make a proper decision if you don’t stop hogging her.” Rafe grumbles, ordering another drink. I watched as she locks eyes with me and licks her lips, letting her gaze travel down my body.

Neither of us had fucked her yet but I didn’t mean the urge wasn’t there. I was rock hard all the time but I was waiting for her to make the choice. Me or Rafe. But if she didn’t want to choose, I’d be fine with that too. As long as I got a piece of her. Something told me Rafe wouldn’t be down for sharing though.

“I’m not keeping her here. I can’t help that she’d rather spend time with me and not you.” I throw back at him, winking at my girl as I down my next drink. She giggles as she continues to drink and dance with my friends.

“There’s nothing you can offer her that I can’t.”

“Yea? Have you made her cum yet? Because I have.” The image of my finger curled inside her sweet pussy has my chest tightening with need. Rafe jumps to his feet and shoves me but I only laugh as the bartender smacks the top of the bar.

“Not in my bar. Take it outside.” He barks and Rafe scowls. We both turn to see her watching us, an unreadable expression on her face. Mixed with guilt. She hadn’t realized Rafe was here.

“Don’t touch her again or I’ll kill you. I’m not kidding.” Rafe growls, not taking his eyes off her.

“I’ll do whatever she asks me for. Or begs me for.” Rafe turns on me right as I see her push through the crowd to get to where we are. I smile as he fists the front of my cut off, murder in his eyes.

“If you think for one sec—.”

“Guys, not here. Please.” We both seem to hold our breath in her presence. She’s so beautiful. Her perfume fills my head and my hands itch to touch her. I was already hard but now my dick was throbbing with need. Rafe jerks away from me and takes her hand. My eyes zero in on their hands but I don’t say anything as I follow them out the back exit.

“I feel like I’m losing you.” I hear Rafe say as the door shuts behind us.

“I haven’t made my decision yet.” She says softly, pulling her hand from his and meeting my gaze.

“I don’t want you guys fighting or at each others throats. Not over me.” She says, looking between the two of us.

“I promise.” I say quickly, taking her hand and pulling her against me. Rafe bristles but waits for her to acknowledge him.

“I promise too.” Rafe finally says, stepping closer and offering her a soft smile. I kiss her forehead and let her go to him although every bone in my body was screaming, mine. I watch as they embrace and I look away when she reaches up on her toes to kiss him, my stomach twisting in knots. A moment later she’s saying goodbye and taking my hand, leading me to my truck.

“Thank you. I know that was hard for you.” She finally says once we’re in the cab and snuggled into my side. I put my arm around her and kiss the top of her head, just grateful that she’s near.

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” I murmur, tipping her chin up and staring into those big beautiful eyes. Butterflies take off in my stomach over all the emotion in her eyes. I press my lips to hers and she moans softly, fueling me further so I dip my tongue in her mouth and wind my fingers through her hair. Her tits are pressed into my side, letting me feel how hard her little nipples are. It’s my turn to moan when she cups my jaw and bites my bottom lip.

“JJ.” She whispers, cupping me through my shorts. “I want you in my mouth.” I can’t say anything except quickly free myself from my shorts and watch her eyes light up. She crouches down on her knees, leaning over my lap and places a quick kiss to my throbbing tip.

“Fuck, baby.” I groan, gently pushing her head down as she takes me into her warm mouth. I throw my head back against the headrest, savoring the feel of her. She’s about to swallow me down her pretty little throat when there’s a tapping on the passenger door. She yelps, yanking away from me as I attempt to cover myself. We both look over in time to see Rafe open the door.

“If you’re going to do this here, I want in. I miss my girl.” Rafe wastes no time in hauling her onto his lap and kisses her hard. I grit my teeth, waiting for her to object but she never does. If anything it fuels her fire because she reaches over and strokes me until I’m hard again while keeping her tongue in Rafe’s mouth.

“Baby.” I groan.

“I want this.” She pants into Rafe’s mouth, pulling her hand away to spit in it then wrapping her hand around my cock again. I moan, letting my head fall back against the seat as I watch her body move. “I want you both. Let me have this. Play with me. Both of you.” I nearly cum just from her words. I scoot closer to Rafe and she tears her mouth away to kiss me instead. I know Rafe is touching her by the way she’s gasping into my mouth, her body trembling as she jerks me harder and harder.

“Her pussy is so wet. So needy.” I hear Rafe say with a growl. I can’t think. All the blood is in my cock and I can only concentrate on making myself last a little longer. She cries out against my lips and I know he’s fingering her. I find her hardened nipples, tweaking them between my thumbs as I kiss her. She rocks against me, riding Rafe’s hand until she pushes away and drops down to take me back into her mouth.

“Fuck.” Rafe and I both curse as his hand works her from behind, her head bobbing up and down frantically even as she gags.

“Stop or I’ll cum down your throat.” I grunt, tugging on her hair but she doesn’t stop. If anything she takes me deeper and I my hips buck as I cum hard. She swallows and my thighs trembles as she sucks everything out of me. Her release hits at the same time and she hums around my shaft.

“Good girl.” Rafe groans, the sound of her wetness echoing in the truck cab. His hand slows as she drops me from her mouth, gasping for air. She throws her legs over mine, straddling me instead and reaching for Rafe’s belt. My cock nudges against her heat like a magnet and it takes everything in me not to thrust inside.

My fingers find her pussy as she starts to suck Rafe off next. His head meets the headrest as he basks in the way her newly skilled mouth feels. I cup her pussy as I stroke her clit, pressing my thumb to other hole. She’s so wet that she’s dripping all over my lap and my hand. She tenses but doesn’t stop bobbing her head as I press my thumb to the puckered hole. If anything she pushes back against me as an invitation.

I rub her clit faster as I push my thumb in to the first knuckle causing a domino effect of her moaning around Rafe’s cock in her mouth and him groaning in response. I’m barely getting started when she cums again, her body trembling uncontrollably as Rafe suddenly cums down her throat with a choked groan.

Rafe pulls her off him and kisses her hard, tasting himself on her tongue. She moans before turning back to me, her body no doubt tired from being bent over at an odd angle, and kisses me just as hard.

“I want you both. Right now.” She rasps, reaching between us to stroke me.

“Wait—.” Rafe says almost panicked. We both knew he’d claimed her virginity from the start but there was no stopping her.

“We’ll take turns. You both can claim me.” She pants, stealing my breath as she slowly impales herself on me. I grip her hips, resisting the urge to fuck up into her but she was in charge. I feel her thighs shake as she slowly lowers herself fully before she lifts off and straddles Rafe next. I look down at my blood streaked dick before looking back to where she’s taking Rafe inside her next.

I thought I’d be jealous or upset but she seemed to answer all our problems by taking matters into her own hands. I’d have rather taken her virginity in a bed or someplace more comfortable but this was still heavenly.

She lowers herself fully on Rafe, wincing as she comes back up and kisses him sweetly. Rafe is panting, his eyes hooded as he stares at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She was.

I can hardly contain myself as she moves back to straddle me, her hair sticking to her neck with sweat as she kisses me. I line myself up with her leaking pussy and she forces herself down with a broken moan. It’s the tightest thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Now that that’s out of the way—,” she whispers, kissing me hard before taking my bottom lip between her teeth, “—fuck me like you mean it.”

[brighttears]

Unload and Reload

Joel miller x reader

No physical description, gender neutral, no use of y/n

Summary: Big bad Joel likes being your little bitch. 

Warnings: Smut (MINORS DNI), knifeplay, gunplay 

Word count: 1k

A/n: Gettin down and dirty with it. LOVE the idea of kinky ass sub!Joel 

–

You kneel on the bed while Joel kneels on the floor in front of you. He’s seeping with devotion, you can see it on his face. His hands hold the sides of your thighs gently, dark eyes looking into yours deeply, pleading. You make him wait.

And he does, patiently, and you know he’d wait for hours if you told him to. 

Abruptly, just how he likes it, you pull the gun up and shove it into his mouth. He stays still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours, before he slowly pushes his head forward, inching the barrel of the gun deeper into his mouth. When you cock it, you watch lust descend onto his face, dripping over his unblinking eyes. His breath hitches and his eyebrows start to knit, pleading still. You know what he wants, so you push the gun further down until you feel it touch the back of his throat, just before his uvula. His eyelids droop, his shoulders moving with deepening breaths.

“You like that?” you ask him quietly, looking down on him, keeping your eyes trained on his, daring him to blink. He nods his head slowly. When he hears the click of your switchblade, out of his sight held in your other hand, he exhales and closes his eyes. He keeps them closed as you lift the blade to his neck, tracing slowly under his chin, over his jaw, over his cheek, stopping at his temple.

“You like being at my mercy?” he stays still but you can see his desperate yes when he opens his eyes again. You cock your head at him. “You’re drooling, baby.”

Joel slowly reaches his hand up to yours holding the knife against his skin, his touch light moving up your wrist, then clasps it just enough to push the blade in to break his skin. A drop of blood forms around the tip of the blade. He takes his hand away and slowly places it back to delicately hold your thigh. 

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you baby? I’d bet your let me cut off your fucking ear. You love being my little bitch, don’t you baby.” Joel nods his head slowly up and down again. You maneuver the tip of the switchblade to gather the ball of blood that has formed at the small slit in his skin and bring it to your tongue, dragging the flat side of the blade over your tongue, creating a dull trail of his blood. You do it real slow, like he likes it. His chest lifts and falls with a heavy, lustful sigh. “You like it when I taste you, don’t you baby. No one else knows how you taste, but I do. Because you’re mine, baby. I caught you, and now you’re all mine.” you drag out the last two words, still looking down deep into his eyes. You place the blade against his cheek again, this time flat side down so that he feels the wetness from your tongue. His eyes flutter closed and then open again. You’re sure he’s hard as a rock by now.

“My little Stockholm syndrome baby.” 

You would never speak this way in the light of day, but that makes it all the more hot to him–your dirty little secret. No way would he let anything like this happen with anyone else; even if it was life or death, obey or die, he’d rather die trying to kill whoever has the gun in his mouth than stay so lax as he does with you. His role is the protector, it’s his identity, but you’re the exception to all of that. The gun in his mouth and knife at his face is how he bears his soul to you, showing you he belongs to you completely, his heart is at your mercy, and he’d stay still as you slide a blade into it through his chest if you said you wanted to. As he’s said himself, Joel was born to be your bitch. And in what perfectly twisted way you’ve met–in a world gone depraved, corruption sprouting from perverted soil. Your love is pure, but it’s not innocent. Neither of you are sure if you’d have ever come together before the outbreak, but it doesn’t matter anyway. 

Behind closed doors, you relinquish and devour each other. 

You drop the knife onto the bed beside you and slink your hand up from his chest up to drag caresses over his face. Lust in his eyes, his brow furrowed up, drool still dripping from his mouth. 

“I’m gonna take the gun out of your mouth now, baby.” his teeth slide along the metal as you do, and then you grab his shoulders and pull him onto the bed, staying on top, letting him lean himself against the pillows. Instantly you grab his face and push your mouth onto his. His spit spreads over your mouth as you maul each other. His hands stroke and grab at your thighs and waist, grinding you over the hill on his jeans. He pushes his hips up into you and soft moans escape from his mouth. You know how much your gun down his throat gets him hot and after 5 minutes he’s pent up like he's a teenager and you’re his first. He knows how this’ll go, too: he can grope you as much as he wants but he won’t touch himself, your hands don’t move down past his belly, clothes stay on, and he’s going to cum in his jeans. 

Your mouth is full of the taste of him and his hands are all over the place. You love how high his voice gets when he’s like this, how big-bad-Joel mewls beneath you. You want to tear off his and your clothes and bounce on his cock until he cums inside you, but tonight’s his night, so you’ll play his game. You’re more than happy to provide him with the kind of pleasure you know he’s drowning in right now. 

Joel’s moans grow more uncontrollable, coming straight from his throat, and he kneads desperately into you. You sit up on him, riding him like a horse, holding his hands still on your hips, like he likes it. His back is almost arching off of the bed as his whole body flounders as he grinds his crotch into yours, his eyes squeezed shut. Open mouthed moans pour out of him. 

You love watching his face like this and how unmanageable his moans are right before he’s about to cum. He fucking needs you. 

And he loves it when you press yourself down so he can fuck himself into you through his jeans. His mind goes blank when you let him get off on you like this. 

Joel moans and groans and pulls you down harder to stroke himself through his orgasm. You can feel his cock twitch as he empties his balls into his underwear with his final pushes and pulls against you.

“Sheit doll.” Joel pants, out of breath, “I love it when you do that to me.”

“Yeah I know you do, baby. You’re such an animal.”

“I’m your animal. Alright, get off’a me so I can clean my cum off before it dries on my only pair of fuckin’ jeans.” 

“Gross, Joel.” You chuckle as you let him out from under you.

“That’s the world we live in, sweetheart.” Joel smirks and shrugs his hands, walking backward towards the bathroom. “Better reload that gun before we forget ‘n get killed because I’m such a fuckin’ kinky bastard.” he calls from the other room.

“You’re my kinky bastard.”

“Your kinky bastard.”

[emitheduck]

Mr and Mrs Castle (Frank Castle x Reader) (2/3)

a/n: hope u all enjoy, Part 1 is here if u need it MASTERLIST

The ride in the car was so silent, that the driver must have thought if he were to move a single muscle or make a slight sound, Frank would kill him right there. Meanwhile, in the backseat Frank was so preoccupied with the suit that (Y/n) had sent over that he wouldn’t have even noticed the radio blasting. How she had gotten his correct size, he will never know (and also not really want to know)

The driver was once again silent as they pulled to a stop outside of a large tower of a building. When (Y/n) had said he would get dropped off at her house, he did assume it would be some kind of penthouse living situation, as anyone with money in the city usually lived on the top floors of some kind of huge building that touched the clouds.

“Sorry I’m a little late, I had to make sure everything was situated before I left.” (Y/n) smiled as someone opened the door for her, sliding in the back seat next to Frank. “Would you look at that, you clean up beautifully.” 

“You don’t look too bad yourself. How much did that dress cost you?” He smirked as they started driving, trying his best to not focus on how low cut the dress was. It seemed to sparkle from the lights of the passing city. 

She rolled her eyes as she gave him a once over again. “I’d rather not say. However, it looks like you need some help.” (Y/n) said as she reached up to fix his tie. “I take it this is one of the skills you don’t have?”

Frank tried not to look ashamed, but nodded. “Yeah I guess it wasn’t something I’ve had a lot of practice in. Gave it my best shot though.”

“Yeah it kinda looks like you did it with your eyes closed. But that’s okay, I’m an expert.” (Y/n) told him as she undid the messy knot and got to work on retying it as they pulled up to the venue for the evening. “Not too tight?”

“It’s perfect thank you.” He was trying his best not to look at her. It was something he had taught himself. If you don’t look a pretty girl in the eyes, then it is impossible to fall in love with her. That was almost a true fact as he caught himself looking over at the profile of (Y/n)’s face as she looked down at her phone. Fuck. “So what exactly are we doin’ here tonight?”

She locked her phone and stuffed it inside the clutch she was holding before turning to face him. “This party is going to be filled with important people, more importantly, bad people. I’m just trying to go, slip a few pills into some people's drinks, and then get the hell out of there before I get a gun to my head.”

Frank cocked a brow. “You’re going to kill people?”

“You act like I’ve never done it before.” (Y/n) smirked as the car started to slow as they got closer to the party. “Just because I don’t use my fists to beat people to a pulp, doesn’t mean I haven’t done things.”

“Who are you after?” Frank asked before the car stopped, getting out of his side first so he could go around to the other side; opening the door for (Y/n) and holding her hand as she stepped out. 

She smiled, intertwining her arm with his as they walked inside. “His name is Sergei. He’s a fucking awful man who loves to beat the shit out of people. One of my best guys got in his way, and they found his body in the river by the docks.” She told him while they walked, making sure to keep her voice low so no one around them could hear. “If things get messy, I don’t mind if you start bashing in some skulls.”

Frank’s lip twitched upward into a smirk. “Now that’s something that I think I can do.” He said as they followed the crowd of people who were filing into one grand room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to the plaza.”

“Remind me to get you a room.” (Y/n) smiled while they weaved through the people to find their seats. There were circular tables everywhere, each table adorned with a large flower centerpiece. This was some kind of charity dinner, and people were walking around with trays of champagne and different foods. “My suite is usually just a call away.”

“You really do surprise me, you know that.” Frank chuckled while they walked around the room. “Don’t know too many people that have an expensive hotel on call.”

The two were about to sit down, but a booming voice interrupted them. “If it isn’t the beautiful (Y/n).” 

She sighed under her breath, but put on a smile as she turned around. “Wilson Fisk, ever the charmer.”

He was about to talk, but clearly lost his train of thought when he noticed Frank at her side. “I must apologize, I didn’t realize you had company this evening.”

“Oh it’s alright Wilson, I just couldn’t hide him forever.” She told him, smiling as she leaned into Frank’s side. “I just couldn’t help myself.” (Y/n) told Fisk, holding out her hand to him.

Fisk was clearly surprised, as was Frank, to see a large ring on her left hand. The diamond sparkled in the light, as did the emeralds that adorned it. “Someone had to make an honest woman out of me, and the courthouse seemed more fitting for us.” She smiled, her hand resting on Frank's chest as she pulled him into a side hug. “It’s Mrs.Castle now.”

“You truly did get a lucky woman.” Fisk smiled slightly, grabbing a champagne flute as it passed. “If you excuse me.” He said, leaving the two. 

Frank was never one to be left speechless, but looking down at her, he couldn’t find the words. He just couldn’t help but stare down at the ring. He didn’t think that part of this plan was faking a marriage. 

“Sorry to throw that on you, just easier to seem off the market. They know I don’t date, and it’s easier to seem like I settled down.” She explained, grabbing her own champagne and handing him a flute. 

“It’s whatever.” Frank shrugged, downing his flute in one quick sip. “Wouldn’t take you for someone who would take a man’s last name.”

She smiled, sipping at her drink. “Oh I’m full of surprises you’ll come to find out.” She told him, looking over at the dance floor. “Come dance with me.”

He sighed, smiling bashfully. “I don’t dance sweetheart, thought you would have known that.” 

“It wasn’t a question.” (Y/n) told him while she grabbed his hand, pulling him to the dance floor. “Just one song, humor me.” She smiled, as the moved together for a slow dance. “I knew the punisher couldn’t resist a pretty girl asking nicely.” 

“You really do surprise me.” He whispered to her while he leaned down, his lips ghosting over her ear. “You have someone watching you. I think he’s going to cut in.”

“I know, that’s why I wanted to dance. Just make sure we can get a quick exit out of here.” She told him, expertly pulling away right as the man came over. 

“May I cut in?” He asked, his hand extended for a dance. This man was clearly Russian, and if there was a guess, this was the man they were after. 

(Y/n) flashed him a smile. “How about a drink? Frank, do you mind?” She asked, not waiting for an answer before she left with the man to go towards the bar.

From where Frank stood, it looked like they were old friends who just ran into each other, having been reunited after a long time. To the naked eye, that’s what they would have looked like. What Frank truly saw was (Y/) gesturing with her hands, and being able to drop a pill into the man’s glass. She then excused herself, and went right to Frank's side. 

“Time to leave?” He questioned, watching her nod silently and grab his hand. This was the first time she had ever looked truly scared, which also was a clear sign that she had pulled off exactly what she wanted to. 

“That should kick in, probably in about 20 minutes. Gives us plenty of time to blame it on someone else at the party.” She said, glancing over as the man was now talking to a different man. “Shows them for killing my fucking men.” 

“I have to give it to you, that was a pretty smooth drop too. I don’t even know if anyone would have noticed it.” Frank smiled as they got into the car that was waiting for them out front. “Where was the pill hidden anyway.”

(Y/n) smiled, holding up her left hand. “Sweetheart, you proposed with it.” She told him, and Frank could faintly see where one of the diamonds was missing on the ring. 

MASTERLIST

[mystery-fic-anon]

Pull me close, and hold my hands

Summary: A cute, fluffy slice of winter life where Edge and Stretch go on an ice-skating date together.

Warnings/rating: T, no major warnings, just some ice shenanigans

This is for the wonderful @alennyah for Gyftmas, I hope you enjoy your gift! I loved this prompt, I knew I had to do something with it :D

Thank you to @sin-cognito for beta reading this, you are the best!! And thanks again for putting on Gyftmas, it's been a blast to participate in!

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52826791

Or below the cut:

Hello

As I stated the first time I graded your project, your database’s code is fucked up broken. Even with the password, I am unable to read or search through files which if you were paying attention, is the only thing the project is asking you to do . I CC’d you on a previous email, but I will send the GitHub link here again. I highly suggest you try debugging the code, and if you are still unable to figure out the issue, please let me know and we can set up a time to meet.

Worst Best regards,

Stretch flinched as someone knocked on the door. He glanced down at the bottom right corner of his screen, then quickly stood up. He had only planned on replying to a couple of quick emails, but he’d gotten sucked into a failed attempt to debug his students’ latest attempt at the final project.

“I’ll be right there!”

He powered off his screen and pushed his swivel chair away from his desk. He got up and grabbed an orange jacket off of the back of the chair, sliding it on and picking up a gift bag as he headed over to the door. He usually wore his regular hoodie while skating, but he didn’t know how long he and Edge would be out. While Edge would offer him his coat like a gentleman, Stretch didn’t want to deprive him, so it was better to layer up.

His skates were still in his inventory, and so was his wallet. He shoved his feet into his boots, then leaned over and opened the door.

Edge stood there, cutting a gorgeous figure in a soft red turtleneck, leather jacket, and some tight jeans. He held his own gift bag in his phalanges, and Stretch couldn’t help smiling as he saw him.

Edge’s face didn’t change, but Stretch could see his shoulders lower ever so slightly. He was always tightly wound when they were outside of the privacy of one of their apartments, but Stretch didn’t mind it too much. After he’d learned to start decoding him, Stretch had found that the most standoffish skeleton of their little group had a kind soul.

Edge handed him the gift bag, gently tugging the other one out of his hands. He put it into his inventory, then looked back at Stretch. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was just finishing up a quick email.” Stretch locked the door, and put his own gift bag away.

He was eager to see what Edge thought of his gift, but there was no rush to open it right away. They had a whole date to do that.

“I thought you were off for the holidays?” Edge asked. His hand twitched, and Stretch happily reached out and took it.

He shook his head, slumping a bit as they began walking to play it up. “Hah, I wish. Students can still submit regrade requests until the 28th, and I have to finish all of them before the next semester starts.”

“That sounds difficult.” Edge squeezed his hand gently, his phalanges curling against Stretch’s metacarpals.

“Yeah, well, I’ve TA’d for worse classes before. I’d rather not talk about work right now.”

“Understandable. We should get going.” Edge turned, pulling Stretch with him as they headed over to the elevator. “Since it’s only fifteen minutes, I assumed we would be walking.”

“Yep, that works for me,” Stretch said. “I bet trying to take a car and parking would only get us a couple of minutes closer, and it’s such a hassle.”

The traffic around his place had been locked up for the past few days by the city’s latest attraction. A pedestrian square that was usually home to cobblestones, a fountain, and some pretty flower patches had been turned into a “holiday village” combining Gyftmas with a few human holidays. It was a bit more lively than what Stretch usually preferred, but he knew that Edge would enjoy it, if only as a chance to prove his athleticism.

“Have you skated before?” Stretch asked. He didn’t usually skate much. He preferred saying awful jokes and teleporting across the ice to get away from any repercussions.

As they stepped out into the streets, Edge looked around, and when he didn’t see any trouble, he began walking and talking. “I used to when I was a child, but it wasn’t like what I’ve seen others doing. It was more about evasive training on a slick surface.”

“Well, that might come in handy if there are any new skaters still figuring out their balance.” Stretch playfully nudged Edge. “Would you catch me if I fell on the ice?”

“Not if it meant I would fall with you,” Edge said dryly, but he smiled when Stretch laughed. It was barely there, but Stretch had gotten used to watching for even the slightest upturn of his mouth.

“That’s fair. I’ll try to keep my legs under me then.”

Neither of them felt the need to speak, so they fell into a comfortable silence. Stretch could see more decorations had migrated into the street, especially in the shops and offices on ground level. He could also see Edge’s handsome face out of the corner of his eye, and he wasn’t ashamed to look clearly and admire his partner.

The skating rink took up a little over half of the square, with a wooden fence surrounding the fountain to keep anyone from running into it by accident. It was a few hours after school had let out, so only a few students were left. There were only about ten people skating, with most of the humans and monsters mingling near the food stands in the holiday village.

Stretch couldn’t help smiling. This was ideal; he and Edge could have some romantic moments, but also people-watch if they wanted to. He led Edge over to the benches next to the rink, squeezing his hand again. 

“This is gonna be fun.” He pulled his skates out and sat down, pulling at the laces of his boots already. They barely went up past his ankles, but he wasn’t wearing them for fashion reasons like Edge usually did. He just didn’t want to soak his usual sneakers.

“I’m sure it will.” Edge sat down and crossed one leg over the other, getting to work.

His movements were elegant and controlled, and Stretch couldn’t help watching for a few seconds before he turned back to his own feet. He had no idea how he’d managed to land someone as elegant as Edge, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Even if Edge hadn’t skated much before, he had no issue lacing them up. He had chosen a pair of black figure skates, the blades polished to military perfection. Once he was done, he helped Stretch lace up his second skate, effortlessly pulling the laces tighter than Stretch had before. Stretch could feel his face flushing, but he didn’t try to look away. Edge deserved to have his care appreciated properly.

He leaned in before Edge could pull away, kissing his forehead quickly. “Thank you.”

Edge’s cheekbones had definitely gotten redder, and he rubbed them as he stood. “Well, it’s easier to do up someone else’s.”

“It’s still nice of you to do.” Stretch stood up. His balance was off, and he threw his arms out as he wobbled. “Oh, damn, looks like I lost my sea legs.”

“That part of the ground is uneven. Come here.” Edge took Stretch’s arm, guiding him over to the well-trodden snow path leading up to the closest door.

A human with a bright yellow vest stood next to the ice rink, and they opened up the door as Edge and Stretch approached. “Hi there! Have you already got your tickets online, or will you be buying some here? It’s eight for a full hour.”

“We’ve got ours.” Stretch let go of Edge and pulled out his phone, showing the tickets to the human.

“Perfect! Here.” They stepped back, gesturing to the door. “Enjoy your time today, and if you want a coupon for some free hot chocolates after your skating, come visit the rental stand! We still have a few left, but they’re going fast.”

Stretch pulled off his skate guards, then stepped over the edge of the doorway. He put them into his pocket, sliding a metre away from the door.

Edge stepped over slower than he had. He kept his eyes on the ice the entire time, and Stretch noticed his blades were wobbling a bit. As Edge closed the door behind him, firmly, Stretch skated up to him.

“Do you want to try together or hold the wall?” He asked, offering his hand.

Edge looked at him skeptically, but Stretch didn’t waver. He wouldn’t judge if Edge did need to hug the wall the entire time; he just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. Maybe he should have found a smaller rink, or somewhere with fewer people, so Edge didn’t feel self-conscious.

“I’m fine.” Edge moved forward and grabbed Stretch’s forearm. “Let’s go.”

Stretch turned so Edge would be close to the wall on his other side, then pushed off with one foot. Edge was pulled into a slow glide with him. He wobbled, but then took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly. He glided forward slightly, but Stretch could feel that he was more in control of it.

“Feeling better? Here, let’s move.”

Stretch shifted one skate, pressing against the ice at a diagonal angle. He pushed three times in a row then stood normally on the ice, riding out the glide with Edge. He could feel a few deeper lines on the ice, but it must have been Zamboni’d recently, because it was pretty smooth.

By the time they were halfway around the rink, Edge had gained some confidence. He used both feet instead of just moving once and then gliding. Stretch was easily pulled along. Edge was staring straight ahead, probably making sure no one zipped in front of them at the last minute. Stretch just smiled, putting his other arm on Edge’s elbow and hanging on.

Edge was strong and precise, and each of his movements were designed to push them along at the perfect pace. Stretch reached out and tapped his fingers on the boards next to the fountain as they skated past it, then scrambled to match Edge’s speed again. He laughed as Edge slowed down, rolling his eyelights as he let Stretch easily catch up with him. The air was getting a bit cooler, but it couldn’t cut through Stretch’s jacket too much, so he was fine.

As they reached the door where they had started, Edge suddenly pushed his feet out. He pulled Stretch to an abrupt stop, ice spraying out from his skates. Stretch yelped, flinching at the cold as some of the ice got into the top of one of his skates.

“What was that for?” He shook his foot, but that only made the ice slide deeper in, soaking his sock.

“You can skate on your own.” Edge smirked at him, then turned around and zipped off.

Stretch knew a game of tag when he saw one. He stamped twice on the ice to make sure the ice shavings in his skate were settled, then took off. He curved to the side, sticking to the direction that most people were using to skate around the rink to avoid any collisions.

Edge must have been faking earlier; he was practically a speed skater now. He leaned forwards, the tails of his scarf flapping behind him as he whirled around the rink. He deftly slipped around another couple, and Stretch smirked as one of them flinched, then turned to look at Edge with wide eyes. He really was a force of nature, and he was killing it tonight.

Stretch could just use a shortcut, but that would end the fun too early. It was rare for Edge to get so playful in public, and he wanted to enjoy it while he could.

Instead, he summoned a small bone attack diagonally jutting out from the wall. It was right at the level of the tips of Edge’s skates. Stretch held his breath, slowing down and crossing his fingers.

He shouldn’t have worried. Edge glanced down just in time, and easily hopped over it. He wobbled again for a moment when he hit the ice again, but he quickly straightened out his blades and began skating normally again. Stretch had to get rid of the bone before continuing, so he wasn’t able to catch up to Edge. He still skated along, moving as close to the middle of the rink as he dared.

After a few more laps, Stretch was finally getting closer. He doubted Edge’s stamina was actually waning, but he appreciated that Edge was giving him a chance to catch up. The sun had almost completely set, throwing some dramatic shadows across the rink and Edge’s figure in front of him. Faint smells of cinnamon and ginger wafted over from the food stalls, and someone in that area was playing holiday music as well.

Stretch threw his arms out for extra balance, speeding up as much as he could. This was it; he would be able to catch Edge. He reached for Edge’s coat, aiming to tap him in the middle of the back.

Edge turned around, grabbing Stretch’s arms and then twisting to the side. The two of them spun wildly, and Stretch yelped as they careened towards the side wall. Edge pushed both of his skates out, bringing them to a stop with his own back only a couple of inches away from the boards.

“Got you,” he said, his eyelights glittering with triumph.

It took Stretch a few seconds to muster a response. He glanced down at where Edge was holding his arms, then back up at his datemate’s face.

“Yeah, you sure did.”

At that moment, the bulbs around the edge of the rink came on. Edge was suddenly bathed in golden, white, and red tones, throwing the small smile on his face into detail. He was slightly out of breath, panting as he squeezed Stretch’s arms gently.

“Are you alright?” He asked, reaching down to take Stretch’s hands instead of holding on to his arms.

Stretch blinked, then squeezed Edge’s hands back. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Edge let go of one of Stretch’s hands, still smiling at him as he turned to stand next to him. “Do you want to do another few laps, then go get some hot chocolate?”

Nothing sounded better. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Let’s go a bit slower this time.”

Edge pushed off, and a second later Stretch followed him. He could feel the smooth leather of Edge’s glove through the material of his own, their arms brushing against each other as they glided around the rink. The air was filled with light and sound, warmth and colour, but what truly captivated Stretch was Edge’s profile. The light framed everything; the strong angles of his face, the scar on his jaw, and the lingering grin on his teeth. It might be corny, but Stretch couldn’t think of a better gift than this.

[dominimoonbeam]

One of those scenes I didn't plan but just sort of high-pitched screamed in excitement about while writing it...

Rereading parts of Don't Run to get back into the headspace of Freya.

snippet below! tw: blood, violence, threat of murder, threat of assault, mention of suicide and the temptation to do it, motherfuckinFREYA, no one in this story is ready for her.

-

“Touch that gun and I will open you up,” she snarled in his ear, her back to the ocean and his front to the surprised goons. “I’m a dead girl anyway, right? I might as well take you with me.”

He didn’t touch his gun but he didn’t lower his hand yet either. Was he weighing her words? Searching for weakness? Oh, Freya was full of weakness, but none that would keep her from killing him.

“I have a bitter heart,” she explained, suddenly more honest with this man than she’d been with anyone in her whole life. It didn’t matter when one or both of them was going to die, did it? “It runs in my blood. I’d rather kill you than let you leave me here.”

He moved his hand away from the gun, holding both of them in front of himself. “You’re making this worse than it has to be.”

“I don’t think so. I think you showed up late to a game and thought you were going to take an easy win. I think you made a big fucking mistake, Owen.” She took steps back, pulling him with her, enjoying the pained hiss of his breath when her knife dug deeper.

She moved her other hand down his chest and across his abdomen. His little gasp suggested he was scandalized. She grabbed the gun from his hip and aimed at the thugs. They bolted for the stairs and she fired after them. Of course he hadn’t had the safety on. She shot one of them in the leg but the big guy crawled up those concrete steps and out of sight.

“What now, Buttercup?” he ground out and she was pretty sure he wasn’t fucking smiling now. “Even if you kill me, they’re just going to get you when you make a run for it. And our deal about me telling them to make it quick is definitely off. I think I’ll tell them to have their fun with you… make it last.”

She took another step back with him, her heels finding the edge of the dock. Freya smiled against the back of his collar, her knife-hand wet and warm where his blood was dripping down the blade. “I’m starting to think you don’t do your own work… Maybe I should call you Vizzini.”

He hissed. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but the only smart thing for you to do now is to shoot yourself in the head.”

Freya shivered, hating how true that felt and not willing to acknowledge the little relief in her chest at the idea. No. NO. She had fought too hard her whole life to stay alive. She wasn’t going out until they dragged her to that grave in the woods!

The waves sloshed and sprayed the backs of her legs.

“Just do it,” he whispered, breathy and right there with her on the edge. “End it. If you don’t—”

“Someone told me that I need friends and my aunt always said… don’t waste someone that might be useful later.” She twisted the knife, the point nicking lines behind his ear. She leaned up onto her toes to get her mouth even closer. “You better be useful to me next time I see you, Vizzini, or I will finish you.”

She let him go, taking the knife away from his throat, and just as he tried to turn around—to shove her or get away from her—she stabbed him in the side. Quick. In and out, before the blade retracted with a snickt and she fell off the dock into the sea.

The ocean was a lot different than the river that cut through her family’s property. It pushed where the river had pulled. It tried to bury her where the river had tried to roll her. But the only thing to do, the only thing there had ever been to do, was to push on until she reached land again.

[lady-lostmind]

title: Temptation Heat, Beats Like A Drum

summary: Eddie wakes up alone in the Upside Down. He turns to Steve for help.

POV switches between Eddie and Steve.

Or: A Vampire Eddie fic. (TW blood)

Excerpt:

He shouldn’t have come down here with them. He should have sat in the house like a good vampire with his pre-packed bags of blood where he couldn’t hurt anyone. But no. Now he’s here, stuck in a cramped bathroom with Steve, and he’s looking at him like he’s ready to…what? Let Eddie feed off him? That’s insane. They’ve just been staring at each other for what feels like a damn eternity and-

“Let me help.”

A manic laugh huffs out of Eddie and he tugs at the end of his hair. “I’d rather not add killed Steve Harrington to my list of traumas and regrets, honestly. So I’m gonna go ahead and say…abso-fucking-lutely not, man.” He knew it. He’s trying to offer himself up. Freaking idiot. Doesn’t he understand there’s no way Eddie will be able to stop if he lets himself begin? 

Steve grins and a soft chuckle slips through his lips. “You won’t kill me, Munson.” 

Eddie’s mouth hangs open, dumbstruck. “Do you have a death wish or something, Harrington?” His throat is killing him. Steve’s scent is filling the air around him, suffocating his control, pulling him in. Steve takes a small step toward him. Eddie trips over his feet as he scrambles back into the bathtub, plastering himself against the wall to put as much distance as possible between them. There’s a soft knock on the door and then Robin is pushing her way into the small room as well, her scent mixing in the air with Steve’s. 

“Everything alright in here?” She asks cautiously. 

Eddie can feel how hard her heart is beating in his own chest. He rolls his eyes and gestures frantically to Steve. “Tell him I can’t, Rob. Tell him this is the stupidest idea he’s ever had in that thick head of his.” 

Robin’s eyes shoot to Steve and she smacks him on the side of the head. “Are you serious, Dingus? I just told Nancy there was no way this is why you came up here. You’re going to let him bite you?”

Steve’s face flushes and shrugs. Eddie picks up the sudden rush of blood to his face and how his blood takes on a similar hint of nervous energy that he had earlier. “Do either of you have a better idea?” He looks between them, like he knows they won’t have any other good options. “How bad is it, Eddie? Like it was in the kitchen?” He’s looking right at him, his voice free of judgment or accusation. 

Eddie sighs and slides down to sit in the ash covered tub. “Not quite. Not yet.” He picks at a worn spot on his jeans, refusing to look up and meet Steve’s eyes again. 

Steve nods. “Okay then, that’s good.” Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment.

“I’d rather do this before it gets to that point though, if you don’t mind.” 

“Steven. You can’t just go around letting vampires suck on your neck. What if Eddie can’t stop?” Robin’s voice is taking on that rambly tone it gets when she’s nervous. 

Eddie holds his hand out in emphasis. “Thank you. Exactly my point, Buckley.” 

Steve leans against the wall like this is the most casual conversation, like Eddie can’t hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest.  “I trust you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets his eyes flit to Steve’s. Dammit, Harrington. “I don’t.” He says definitively. 

Steve rolls his eyes like this is a ridiculous conversation as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small knife and flicking it open. Eddie’s eyes go wide as he tracks the movement and Steve presses the blade to his wrist, slicing a small cut. Eddie can faintly hear Robin having an absolute fit, but he can’t make out any of the words. Can’t focus on anything other than the very strong smell of Steve’s blood rushing into his nose, the way his throat flares angrily and he has to dig his fingers into his knees to keep himself from launching across the room. His eyes are glued to the spot on Steve’s wrist that is welling with red, dripping off the side. His other hand is holding Robin back, not letting her staunch the wound, pushing her to the door and practically manhandling her into the hall before shutting the door behind her and turning the lock. 

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Eddie scrambles to his feet, plastering himself against the wall, his whole body screaming at him to lunge forward. To take. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? You can’t just-” Eddie pulls his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. “fucking cut yourself like that!” His arms are flailing in front of him like a rambling lunatic. There’s a lot of yelling and commotion outside the door as Jonathan and Nancy are filled in. Eddie can feel his control slipping as the scent from Steve’s blood fogs his brain. He watches in horror as Steve slowly steps forward, holding his wrist out in front of him, blood dripping down from his fingertips and onto the floor. Eddie tracks each drip, watching as it hits and pools by Steve’s feet. “Come on, Munson. You’re wasting all the goods.” Steve’s voice barely falters, a cocky grin pulls up the side of his mouth. But Eddie can hear how fast his heart is going. He can smell the adrenaline lacing his blood. But the light taunt does something to him. Sets off something he can’t ignore and he finds himself pressing Steve against the wall, tugging his wrist level with his face and inhaling deeply. He registers every small reaction that crashes through Steve’s body as he realizes how quickly the situation has turned. He hears the way his heart stutters and slams into his throat, picks up on the way his blood takes on a…smokey scent, lingering in the back of his throat. That’s a new one. Eddie tries to place the emotion attached to that as his eyes meet Steve’s, staring into blown pupils and feeling his quick breath hit his cheek. Eddie’s mouth pulls into a terrifying grin as he locks his fingers securely around Steve’s wrist and brings it to his mouth, latching his lips over the open wound there and pulling the blood into his mouth, letting it pool on his tongue.

[tinyvoicejill]

[Part two of this story] ----- “I can’t believe we’re gonna die.”

“I mean, I’d like to think we’d at least consider tearing your sweater before reaching that point.”

“I’d rather we die.”

“Uh huh, and our lives are worth sacrificing for your job as a…?”

Carson is struggling on her toes trying to relieve some of the pressure on her wrist. It’s worse for her than Greta - the sleeve doesn’t cling tight to her wrist, whereas Carson’s bracelet is pulled tight against her skin. Greta keeps a firm grip around Carson’s waist to try and help alleviate the pressure. Somehow, despite being in this ridiculous situation with her hand about to fall off probably, Carson remains optimistic in her efforts to keep their spirits up. It’s ridiculous. It’s amazing. Greta’s pretty sure she’d have gone crazy if not for Carson. “I’m a personal assistant to a fashion designer. I wanted to be a designer too one day, but now that my life is over I’m just hoping I don’t get sued into the dirt.” “Oh yeah? What made you want to go into that?” It’s a ploy to distract, and Greta embraces it. She details her entire life plan to her captive audience, and for a while that helps. Everytime she stops talking, though, the panic restarts. Carson doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s so cool! It’s amazing how people can just do stuff like that, wow. And do you have a uh, a person that you share this with? Like, your life with?” In the entire time that Greta has known Carson (about twenty minutes, give or take) not once has she ever seemed nervous. Not until now. Panic subsides in Greta then, as the only distraction better than talking is flirting. “No. No girlfriend,” Greta says, and she can feel the way Carson swallows at that. “I am very single.” “Good. I mean, no I don’t mean… I-I’m single too!”

Greta feels like she’s been handed this opportunity on a silver platter. She’s been trying to hold her head tall and away from Carson to give her some space, but now she lets her face skim down the slightest bit, just enough to bump against Carson’s. She can hear the way Carson breathes in fast, can feel it in the way her grip tightens where it rests against Greta’s side.

“Guess we’re both single, then,” Greta says, and her nose brushes Carson’s. “Wonder what we should do while we wait for rescue?”

“I think you should take your top off.” That is not at all what she expected her to say. “Not even gonna buy me dinner first?” Greta teases back, and thinks about kissing her. Those thoughts stop when she sees the serious look on Carson’s face. The way she looks pained. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Carson says quickly, like she thinks she’s offended Greta rather than turned her on. “It’s just… it’s really starting to hurt.” Greta looks up again to see Carson’s hand tangled up by her own. It’s purple now. She’s never seen a hand turn purple before.  “Oh shit, okay. Yes, okay, take my top off.” Greta tries to help with her free hand but stalls when she feels Carson stop tugging, her hand instead pressed to Greta’s stomach. “Sorry, I think I missed your undershirt-” “No undershirt,” Greta cuts in, earning a confused look from Carson. “Just the sweater.” “Oh. Okay! Cool,” Carson says, and her voice cracks. 

Greta can feel the way Carson’s hand lingers going up her abs - and okay, maybe Greta is flexing extra hard. So what! She’s worked hard as fuck to get this body, of course she’s gonna show it off - but slowly they manage to work her sweater up and over her body. Carson makes an embarrassing noise when Greta’s bra is revealed, which Greta revels in. She can feel the way Carson trembles pressed to her chest. Things are going swimmingly as they work the sweater up to her neck, her face, and she’s trying to pull her free hand out of the sleeve but it keeps getting caught and Carson’s trying to push the collar up over Greta’s face simultaneously but it gets stuck just above her nose, and she feels trapped and exposed then with her naked torso right in Carson’s face and now both arms once again tangled and trapped above her head and it doesn’t make sense why the sweater is so tight around her face until she remembers.

“Shit! I forgot there are buttons on the back of the collar, it’s not gonna fit. You gotta-” “Okay, okay.” Carson fumbles behind Greta’s head, trying to find the buttons, unintentionally jerking her head forward in her search. Their faces were so close already, so of course their lips brushed.

Greta whimpers, like a fucking loser. This is, unfortunately, the hottest thing that’s ever happened to her in her entire life. Greta is pinned against the door by a hot stranger who basically has her blindfolded with her hands tied above her head. What other choice is there if not to whimper and grind a little bit?

“Oh,” Carson breathes against her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Whatever excuse she intended to say is lost in Greta’s searching mouth and quickly forgotten. Carson kisses her back with an enthusiasm that makes her feel like her bones are melting, like she might turn to mush on the floor if not for her hands tied tight and Carson’s body holding her steady. They kiss for so long and no time at all. Until the bathroom door slams and they hear a loud sigh followed by, “Look horndogs, we closed ten minutes ago. Can you go do this somewhere else?”

It takes a lot for them to convince the worker they are, in fact, both stuck. The manager has to take the door off its hinges, and Greta has to take Carson home with her.

The cashmere sweater somehow, despite the odds, survives.

[justmoreocs-writing]

The pub was alive with noise. Lou loved it, loved the constant bustle, the little titbits of conversations she heard. She didn’t like the leering looks, the way people - men especially - seemed to think she was something lesser because she was a barmaid, but she could bear it, for the moment. It was just a mask she needed to wear to get information. She’d be glad when this was all over. When she could return to Chelmsford where people knew not to underestimate her. She’d almost forgotten what it was like elsewhere. How people treated you without the threat of a gang. She wasn’t going to forget again, but she was determined to do something towards changing it.

A door banged open. Every nerve in Louisa’s body tensed. No one in the pub even seemed to notice the noise, too lost in their own worlds. But, as the three figures wandered in, a ripple of unease ran around the room. There was no ignoring the Peaky Blinders.

Lou barely suppressed a smirk as she sauntered over to them, head bowed ever so slightly. It turned her stomach, but she knew it was the way of Small Heath. For now, at least.

‘How can we help you, Mr. Shelby?’ She nodded ever so slightly to each of the brothers in turn, knew that the rest of their little razor gang had to be outside. Instinctively, her hand strayed to her own cutthroat razor, but she hid the gesture by smoothing down her skirt.

Tommy Shelby’s cool blue eyes skimmed the pub before finally resting on her. There was very little emotion behind them, impossible to even begin deciphering. 'I want to talk to the boss.’

Lou dipped her head. 'I’ll go find my brother,’ she simpered, trying not to catch Ade or Jake’s eyes. The two men were sat either side of the door, seemingly focused on their own conversations. Well, Jake was at least; though there was no doubt in Lou’s mind that the new blood would be ready for action at the drop of a hat. Ade sat with people around him but was as openly watchful as ever; he probably had no idea what was being said by those he was supposed to use as a cover.

'Not him,’ Tommy said, voice low. 'The other boss.’

'The boss of the gang fucking with our cousin,’ spat John.

Lou gasped, placed a nervous hand to her lips as if startled by the outburst. After a moment, she carefully drew her hand away. 'I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby, I have no -’

Arthur shifted behind his brother, flicked his coat out to highlight the fact they were all armed.

Lou felt a muscle twitch in her cheek.

'Anything the matter here?’ came the silky voice of Vinnie. He rested a hand on her shoulder, a sign of protectiveness to the Blinders but a way of calming the storm raging inside Lou. How dare they come in while people were trying to enjoy themselves? Thinking they own everything. 'Ah, I’m sorry gentlemen, but Mr. Williams would rather -’

'I’ve heard,’ Tommy cut him off smoothly, 'that you’re the bastard in charge of the Cutthroats.’ In one swift movement he pulled a gun, levelled it with Vinnie’s forehead.

Lou was only vaguely aware of the rush of movement around her. The Shelbys ushering the patrons out, reminding them that the Garrison would accommodate. The only people who stayed behind had come to the city with her.

'But I don’t think that’s true,’ Tommy continued, as if nothing had happened.

Over his shoulder, Louisa saw Jake reach for his own gun, saw Ade’s hand hover over his razor. She tilted her head ever so slightly, warning them to hold.

'Would you like a drink, Mr. Shelby?’ Cam asked softly from the bar. It took all Lou’s willpower not to look at her brother, to check he was all right. She just hoped Clary had stayed out back, at least one of them might be able to go home and rally the troops if this all went sideways.

A flicker of a wolfish grin passed across Tommy’s lips. 'When we came in,’ he said slowly, 'attention didn’t go to you, Mr. O'Connor. I’d have thought seeing us, every eye would go to the person in charge. To figure out what to do.’

John snickered from behind him. Lou’s grip on her own razor tightened ever so slightly. She didn’t remember properly reaching for it, but was grateful for the instinct.

'No, see every eye of people I don’t know went to you, Miss Williams.’

Lou scoffed, refusing to falter under the eye of Thomas Shelby. She’d dealt with worse than him on day trips to London. 'Perhaps they’re all concerned for my safety,’ she said sweetly.

Tommy chuckled, lowered the weapon. The tension in the room no way diminished though. 'You picked up the gang when your brother didn’t want it.’ It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. Which, incidentally, irritated Lou far more.

'Not everyone usurps their elder siblings,’ she said coolly, shaking off the mask of barmaid easily. She folded her arms, felt the cool handle of her razor. Not open yet, but the promise hung in the air.

Arthur shifted forwards, as if to attack, but John held him back. Behind them, Ade and Jake were closer in an instant. Stilled in their movements only by a dismissive wave of the hand from Lou.

'I’m guessing,’ she said lazily, her attention fixing on Tommy, 'that you’re not here to trade barbs or for a bloodbath. So, will you talk business with me, or do you need to be shown the door?’

Tommy was silent for a moment, his own eyes never left hers. It was as if the both of them were trying to bore a hole in the other. He inclined his head, the only indication that they could indeed talk.

'Vinnie,’ she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, 'be a dear and get us that Merlot, please. And whatever else you think we need.’

Vinnie’s eyes snapped irritably to the Shelbys, as if daring them to try something, before he moved away. Even though Lou could already hear her brother getting the alcohol, she needed to know that Vincent could get his guns, and whatever other weapons they may need against the Shelbys. Though, deep down she knew this was more a battle of wits than anything else. Exactly what she’d been looking for.

She motioned to a table in the middle of the room. 'Shall we?’

[rhysdasiorarchive]

As selfish as it likely was, Rhys was relieved to hear that all discussions pertaining to Hell would be limited. Or, rather, non-existent. Seth had suffered enough having to endure it in the first place and the last thing Rhys wanted to do was force him to relive it to satiate his own morbid curiosity. “‘least it’s the last you’ll be seeing of it. So long as you don’t fuck around again–” fixing Seth with a momentarily stern look from across the table, Rhys flashed a bright smile at him a second later to prove there were no lingering hard feelings. “–it’s all good.” Seth’s smile across the table was reassuring until it wasn’t and the inevitable topic rose its head at a speed that Rhys was wholly unprepared for. Taking a generous sip from his glass to buy himself some extra time, Rhys glanced off to the side, his gaze falling to the floor as he hummed in thought, his expression mirroring that of a kicked puppy until he pulled himself back together, glancing back at Seth with a nauseatingly polite smile, the kind typically reserved for all the exhausting coven-related soirées he was obligated to attend back in London. “Roland and I decided to be mature adults for once; had some things to talk through, had some different perspectives to consider. Things aren’t back to what they used to be, not yet. I’m giving him one last chance not to fuck things up.” Setting his glass down on the table, Rhys reached for his cigarette case and plucked one out, chucking it on the table towards Seth in silent offering as he lit it with his free hand, exhaling a plume of smoke as he shifted in his seat to get a little more comfortable if they were going to delve into the ever-complicated subject of Roland. 

“He came to see me the night after you told me you didn’t have long left. He’d been trying to win me back for a while, I’d had gifts and all sorts delivered to the office and my suite. Still haven’t opened half of them, most of ‘em are still piled high in the corner of my study until I’m ready. It all felt too raw to inspect anything closer. I’m rambling, though. He came to see me, explained himself properly and gave me a fair few things to reconsider. We’re working on rebuilding things now. Slowly. I’m making him work for it, so don’t give me any kind of look for it. He was nothing but truthful with his groveling; I made sure of it, checked throughout all his speeches to make sure he wasn’t bullshitting me. Wasn’t a trace of a lie, not even once. He meant every word of it. He explained that he’d done what he’d done out of fear, out of a reluctance to put himself through emotional turmoil again.” Taking a much-needed drag from his cigarette, Rhys rested it between his lips as he wriggled out of his blazer, throwing it over the back of his seat before he settled back into place. “He’d realised he was in love with me–” the emphasis was accompanied by a theatrical widening of Rhys’ eyes, his smile widening as he repressed a laugh. “–the night everything went wrong. When he realised, he’d panicked and resorted to cutting contact to try and convince himself he didn’t have feelings for me. It’s shitty, yeah, but I kinda get it. Was it selfish? Entirely self-serving? Yeah, absolutely. But it was never malicious. We’ve talked about it, talked it through for hours, and now we’re both in agreement that if he pulls that shit with me again, he’s as good as gone. You've got nothing to worry about. Trust me."

"All right well if you insist," Seth replied, smiling after Rhys as he waited for his drink to be handed to him. Once he had his vodka soda he met the other witch at the table and sat across from him, raising his glass in return and smirking as he sipped it. "Probably best. It wasn't a vacation, I'll tell you that." He chose to leave the topic of Hell there since it wasn't something he wanted to delve into. The most important thing was that he was back and... adjusting back into a sense of normalcy after a decade. "We certainly do," he said, folding his hands in front of him on the table and smiling sweetly at Rhys. "How about we start with what the fuck are you doing with Rolando again?"

[chelseeebe]

falling. | part 3. to maneater.

summary: steve harrington was the first boy you’d opened up to. so why can’t you stop fucking it up?

c/w: billy is in this and there’s mentions of sexual assault and non-consensual touching so read with caution!

it’s finally done!!!!! i don’t even think i like this but it’s here!!! tumblr deleted a whole chunk of writing so had to redo some parts n ik they aren’t as good as the original <\3 also falling - harry styles especially the first verse rlly got me going for this one.

read part one here. | read part two here.

there had been absolutely no contact with steve. he couldn’t even look at you.

now being shunned from sitting on the table your two groups had taken over, jessica very kindly tells you, ‘it’s probably better if you don’t come, y’know.. just until steve cools down.’

‘right.. guess i’ll see you later then,’ you slink out of the cafeteria, choosing to retreat to your car instead, away from everyone.

to be honest, you weren’t keen on sitting opposite steve anyway. the way his eyes looked at you, all sad and disappointed.

on the friday, you’re sat in your car, willing the next two hours of school to hurry up when your passenger door swings open and a large body collapses into the seat.

‘what the fuck are you doing?’

‘you looked lonely, thought i’d give you some company,’ billy states, throwing his legs on the dashboard.

you shoo his feet off, ‘i was fine on my own, actually.’

‘darling, i’ve seen you sat here every day this week, your boyfriend still mad at you?’ he smirks over at you.

‘he’s not my boyfriend, never has been, but yeah, no thanks to you,’ you hiss, though you can’t solely blame him.

‘you really were wasted, huh? don’t remember what happened after?’ he lights a cigarette, rolling down the window.

‘well no, but i’ve been told.. steve couldn’t wait to throw it in my face, trust me,’ you state, looking over at the curly haired boy.

‘why do you give a shit what he thinks? never had you down as someone that cared what little pretty boys like harrington think of you,’ he takes a drag.

billy was attractive, not in a steve harrington kinda way, more rugged and much less clean-cut.

you reach over and grab the cigarette from him, taking a long drag before handing it back.

‘i don’t,’ you lie, ‘could not care less.’

‘that’s why you’re hiding in your car is it, sweetheart?’ he chuckles, eyes narrowing at you.

‘just fuck off, billy,’ you roll your eyes, unprepared for his home-truths.

he laughs, ‘n leave you all alone? you sure you want that?'

even though it was billy, you had appreciated not being alone at lunch. your friend's hadn't exactly shunned you, but had decided that during lunch they'd rather preserve the peace with their new-found friendship with steve and his group.

'you can stay, as long as you shut up and don't mention steve again,' you fold your arms over your chest, twisting your body to look at him.

'i'm not making any promises,' he flicks the butt of the cigarrette out of the window, turning back to face you.

'there's a party tomorrow, i'll pick you up at eight,' he winks.

in all honesty a party was a welcome distraction to everything at the moment, though billy would not be your usual choice of friend but at this point you weren't left with much choice.

then there's a twinge of guilt in your stomach, thinking of steve and how a party and billy had actually been the sole reason steve now wasn’t speaking to you.

he was the first guy you’d let get that close since moving to hawkins a few years back. an inexplicable feeling bubbles in your stomach as you think back to your date. how you had felt so comfortable with him, telling him things not even your friends had gotten out of you.

and suddenly that awful impulsive urge rises from your stomach. the one that only showed itself when things were becoming too serious with someone.

so fuck it.

you spent the whole of the lunch break with billy, in your car. you hadn't ever pictured your friday to go this way, but you were just happy that someone was actually speaking to you.

you'd neglected to notice steve, who had finished basketball practice, standing just a few metres from your car, glaring at the pair of you sat talking in your car. a frown planted firmly on his face, utter disbelief at how you could even be sat with him after that damned party.

tommy notices steve staring, searching for the cause of his scowl, landing on your car. he swings his arm over his friends shoulder in sympathy.

'bro.. c'mon, let's just go,' he tugs steve away and back into the school.

-

billy is late, obviously.

he wasn’t like steve, ready and waiting for you before you’d even finished getting ready.

you turn your wrist to look at your watch.

8:11pm

you were about to head back inside when you hear the loud car engine pull onto your street, wheels screeching to a halt.

billy grins at you from the window, you roll your eyes and get into the car.

‘you’re late, lucky i was nice enough to wait,’ you pull your skirt down, as it had ridden up past your thighs. not unnoticed by billy.

‘sorry darlin’, looking good though,’ he eyes up your thighs.

‘just drive, i need a fucking drink,’ you stare, flipping him the middle finger.

he chuckles, speeding off down the street.

-

you’d told yourself that there was absolutely no way you were getting as wasted as last time. but here you were, head spinning as you stumble up to the stairs and into the bathroom.

billy follows closely behind, pushing his way into the bathroom, ‘not tapping out, are ya doll face?’

‘no, i’m fine.. just need a minute,’ you lean your hands on the counter, looking at your blurry reflection in the mirror.

billy presses himself against your back, hands finding your waist as you watch him grin in the mirror.

you spin your body round to face him, placing a hand on his chest to push him back, ‘i’m not fucking you billy,’ shaking your head.

‘oh c’mon, i’ve been waiting all night for this darlin’,’ his fingers begin to slide up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

‘no billy, i’m not doing that,’ you place your hand on his wrist, trying to move his hand.

his expression hardens as he leans his face closer to yours, his fingers now gripping your jaw, ‘you’re joking.. everyone knows what a little slut you are, what’s the problem? don’t tell me it’s harrington.’

his fingers tear a hole in your tights, latching onto the hem of your underwear and you freeze.

your eyes squeeze shut, ‘i just don’t want to have sex with you.. get off of me,’ your voice shakes.

he runs his thumb over your bottom lip before letting go, backing away from the counter, ‘whatever, you’re a little cock-tease,’ he walks out of the bathroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shake.

you sigh, wiping away the tears that had slipped out and rolled down your cheek.

you’d yet again made a gigantic mess of everything.

now left stranded at some random party, god knows where.

so, you do the sensible thing and walk down the stairs and out of the house, stumbling down the street as you pass the party goers.

you walk and walk, until you end up on the familiar street.

you don’t really know what you’re doing until you’re at the door, boots in hand as your knuckles wrap against the wood.

there were now holes in your tights, black mascara smudged down your cheeks and the red lipstick you’d chosen now anywhere but your lips.

you glance at the time on your watch

3:32am.

it had taken you an hour to even get here.

the door swings open and a shirtless steve stands in the doorway, hair sticking up every which way.

‘y/n? why are y- what happened?’ his tone becoming concerned as he notices your disheveled appearance and the leather boots in your hand.

you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, ‘i didn’t know where else to go..’ the lump rises as a cry escapes your mouth.

his arms are around your body, pulling you into his chest, before you can say another word.

you cry as he pulls you into the house, running his hand down your back. you can only cling onto him, only crying harder because you didn’t deserve this kindness from him.

‘hey.. what happened?’ he questions, pulling away to make you look up at him.

‘i was.. at a party and- and billy..’ you’re interrupted with a sob, unable to finish the sentence.

his eyes go from soft to filled with anger at the mention of his name.

‘what? what did he do?’ he spits, with the state of you it couldn’t have been good.

‘he just- he tried to touch me and.. and i said no and-,’ you’re interrupted by a sob, unable to even tell steve.

you can feel his body stiffen, ‘he didn’t… did he?’

shaking your head, you swallow attempting to conceal your cries, ‘no.. he just.. touched me.. it’s my fault, i shouldn’t have even gone..’

‘no, no it’s not at all.. c’mon let’s get you cleaned up,’ he pulls his body from yours, now taking your hand and walking you up his stairs.

the second time he’d come to your drunken rescue. you felt awful for relying on him so much.

but truthfully, steve would rather know that you’re safe with him than out there. no matter what had happened between you.

he gently wipes the remains of your makeup off with his moms face wipes, offering you the spare toothbrush and even turning around as you change into yet another one of his t-shirts, this time foregoing the sweatpants.

‘got my own collection going on,’ you laugh weakly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

he exhales, ‘s’pose you do.. they look better on you anyway,’ he stands in the doorway, ready to go to the guest bedroom.

‘can you.. stay in here.. only if you want to,’ you whisper, pulling back the duvet for him.

he walks over to the bed, ‘of course i want to.. whether i should is another story,’ he climbs into the bed, laying back.

‘you should,’ you lean your head back onto the pillow, staring at the cream coloured ceiling.

steve flicks the lamp off, turning on his side to go to sleep.

you’re sure he’s asleep before you let out the first silent cry, hand held over your mouth.

your shoulders shake as you sniffle, slightly louder than intended.

and then you feel steve’s arm snake around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

‘i’m sorry.. i thought you were asleep..’ you mumble.

‘no.. can’t sleep,’ he grumbles in response, still holding onto your waist.

you turn your body to face his, looking up at his shadowy face, admiring the way the moon cascaded over his features. you can just about make out his eyes staring back into yours.

‘me too..’

the eye contact is heavy, and you’re half tempted to reach up and kiss him.

steve clearly has the same thought, his lips colliding with yours with his free hand now cupping your face.

but this kiss is different, there’s no lust, no desire behind it. not like before. this kiss was soft, full of warmth and emotion.

he pulls back, searching for your eyes in the darkness, ‘c’mon you need to sleep.’

you nod slightly, resting your head on his chest and exhaling deeply.

his fingers trace patterns into your shoulder, chin resting on the top of your head.

eventually your breathing becomes heavy on his chest as you drift off to sleep.

his fingers slide through your hair with his other arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, holding you close to his body.

he whispers into your hair, ‘you’re killing me here..’

eventually falling asleep, nuzzled into your hair.

-

it's noon before you wake up, steve's arm around your waist as he snores lightly.

he looked so peaceful when he was asleep, the usual furrow of his brow replaced with an undisturbed, stillness to his face.

you smile at the image, not wanting to wake him but desperately needing the bathroom.

you manoeuvre your body out of his grasp and tiptoe to the bathroom.

when you come back to the room steve is awake, sat up against his headboard.

‘i thought.. i thought you’d snuck off again,’ he exhales, running his hand through his hair.

you shake your head, ‘not this time,’ sitting at the end of the bed.

‘what happened last night?’ he asks, not wanting to press too much.

you sigh, looking down at your hands, ‘he.. he touched me.. i said no but he.. just-,’ you stop yourself.

steve reaches over, placing his hand over yours for reassurance.

‘he grabbed me.. called me a slut and a tease- i don’t wanna talk about it..’

‘you should go to the police, obviously if you want to.. but he shouldn’t get away with that,’ he squeezes you hand, his tone now full of disgust.

‘no, i’m not.. it’s fine- i’m fine,’ you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears.

‘you do-,’ he sighs, exasperated, ‘okay, it’s your choice.. but i’m just telling you now that i am going to kill him.’

you chuckle through the tears, ‘you couldn’t kill a fly.’

‘hey! i could and i have,’ he feigns offence.

you groan, using steve’s blanket to wipe away your tears.

‘are you okay?’ he questions quietly.

you nod, ‘i’m fine.. are you okay?’

‘why would i not be?’

‘because.. of me,’ you shrug, ‘what i did..’

he squeezes your hand, ‘it doesn’t matter.. you were right, you aren’t my girlfriend.. i can’t expect you to act like it,’ he sighs; slightly frowning.

his eyes are sad, gazing down at you.

‘it was still shitty.. i’m really sorry steve.. i’m trying to be a different person, better, but it’s hard..’

he exhales, ‘look.. we don’t need to speak about this now..’

you nod, appreciating his kindness. even if you were totally undeserving.

‘c’mon, i’ll take you home,’ he runs his thumb over your hand before standing from the bed.

you’re stood at his door when he picks up the skirt you’d worn last night. it had been a favourite but now you couldn’t even stand to look at it.

‘burn it,’ you say, disgusted at the sight of the skirt.

it goes unnoticed when steve grits his teeth, seething at how billy’s actions had made you feel so little. a shell of the you he knew.

-

you hesitate going into the cafeteria. there was still an air of uncertainty around you and steve despite you turning up on his doorstep sunday morning.

you notice the group of students now stood at the window, jeering and gasping at some commotion outside.

before you can decide whether to join them, jessica sprints up to you, 'you need to come, now,' pulling your arm towards the door to the forecourt.

'what? what's going on?' you query, stumbling as she drags you along.

'it's steve..,' she pants, breathless as she'd had to sprint to find you.

your eyes immediately land on the group of high-schoolers, crowded around the bustle you'd noticed from the window.

pushing through the crowd you spot steve squared up to billy, his hand shoving his backwards, billy tumbling back.

'fucking creep,' steve spits, stepping up once again.

'what's the problem? did i touch your little girlfriend? that little slut wanted it,' billy bites back, returning the shove to steve only a little harder.

you bite the inside of your cheek, guilty that you were the reason for the fight. his words sting, memories of the spiteful words he had spat at you in the bathroom flooding back.

steve lunges for the boy, landing a particularly hard punch to his cheek sending billy backwards towards the crowd.

billy clutches his cheek, a smile on his lips at the utter disbelief of steve's actions.

the denim clad boy tackles steve to the ground, pulling his arm back to sock him in the face, repeatedly, each hit harder than the last.

you gasp, elbowing the boys in front of you out of the way and stepping up towards billy, you grab onto his jacket in an attempt to stop him.

'fucking stop it!' you screech, pulling his arm back and away from steve.

billy pushes you backwards, falling to the floor as the crowd let out a collective 'ooh'.

fortunately for steve, ms. kelly gets into the middle of the circle as one of the gym teachers restrains billy.

you rush over to steve, his face now bruised and bloody. you cradle his head in your arms, trying to clean off some of the blood to assess how badly he was hurt.

he looks up at you, eyes squinting at the bright light, 'i'm sorry.. he deserved it though.'

you shake your head, though you can't hide the smile on your face, ‘we could've slashed his tyres or something, now look at you.'

eventually, you alongside one of his teammates take him inside, his arm resting on your shoulder.

you press the ice pack to his face, shuffling in the uncomfortable office chairs while you wait for the principle to finish speaking to billy.

'i think you're a fucking idiot for doing that.. but i wanted to thank you.. for defending me n' that..'

he turns to face you, 'oh that? wasn't for you.. i just really really wanted to get beat up,' he winces at his split lip as he smiles.

'it was kinda hot.. y'know the ten seconds before he beat the shit out of you,' you giggle. it was true, angry steve was hot, just not when he was angry at you.

your head jolts to the open door, as billy saunters out. steve had got a pretty good hit in, with billy's cheek now adorned with a new blue bruise.

he glares at the two of you, his lip snarling as if to say something but he restrains himself.

‘mr. harrington,’ mr. davis calls, gesturing towards his office.

you both stand at the same time, ‘you can stay here miss. (y/l/n),’ the principle nods.

‘no, i’m coming,’ you walk into the office and take a seat before steve.

mr. davis is shocked at your gumption, beginning his spiel about fighting and how it’s unacceptable in the school environment.

‘so unfortunately, i’ve got no choice but to suspend you-,’

‘no,’ you cut him off, ‘that’s not fair, it’s my fault he was even fighting, so you can either suspend both of us or neither of us,’ you cross your arms, staring at your principal.

‘well.. now we can’t do that.. school policy states that we need to punish anyone fighting,’ david states, leaning forward on his desk.

‘so suspend me too.’

steve gawps at you, mouth open at your brave actions, utterly speechless.

‘i don’t think that would be wise miss (y/l/n), it’s a one week suspension,’ he attempts to persuade you to concede.

you shrug, ‘i don’t care.’

‘okay.. well.. then you’re both suspended, i’ll be in contact with both of your parents.. i expect you back, not fighting, next monday,’ your principal sighs.

you stand up and exit the room, stone-faced as you barrel out of the school.

steve jogs to catch up with you, ‘wait.. wait, why the fuck did you do that?’ his fingers curl around your wrist.

‘because it’s my fault you were even fighting.. only fair that i take some of the blame,’ you turn to him only inches away from his swollen face.

a laugh erupts from his throat at the sheer absurdity of it all. it’s contagious as you burst out laughing with him.

‘we look crazy..’ you mutter, noticing the stares from nosy students out of the classroom windows.

‘you are crazy,’ he says, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

‘i’m not the one throwing punches at someone twice my size,’ you state, grinning at him.

he scoffs, ‘twice? i don’t think so.’

you shake your head, ‘let’s get out of this shit hole, you’ve just bagged me a week off.. i’m not wasting that.’

you walk over to your car, looking back at steve stood gawping at you.

‘i.. i drove so i’ll uh- see ya,’ he begins to walk to his car, fumbling in his pockets for his keys.

‘are you sure you’re alright to drive? your eye’s pretty fucked..’ you were just desperate to not let him walk away once again.

‘yeah.. this is not my first time being beaten up, believe it or not,’ he half jokes, wobbling over to his car.

‘well.. uh, do you wanna do something later? i think i owe you for defending my honour,’ you call after him.

he turns to look at you, ‘okay, dinner is definitely on you though.’

‘i’ll even come and pick you up.. six, so you better be ready,’ you open the car door, sliding into the seat.

you both drive home grinning at your nondate-date.

-

you’d never been so nervous, stomach doing flips at the thought of seeing him.

you pull up on his drive, giving your outfit a once over before sounding the horn. you’d opted for more casual wear, a difference to the usual short skirts and revealing tops steve normally saw you in.

he appears at the door before limping over to your car. he groans as he attempts to sit in the car, his bruises now visible on his face.

‘are you sure you’re okay to go out?’ you question, wincing at his cut hands.

‘yeah.. i’m fine.. just a bit sore,’ he mumbles.

‘mm, you look it, c‘mon.. we can just order pizza and watch a movie, it’s okay,’ you hop out and walk around the passenger side, helping him out of your car.

he wraps his arm around your waist, supporting himself with your body, ‘you could’ve said this before i dragged myself all the way over here,’ he jokes.

‘steve, i’ll fucking drop you.’

you help him into the house, placing him down on the sofa before looking around at the large house.

you’d never really seen it through sober eyes, suddenly noticing the childhood photos dotted around.

‘are your parents not home?’ you question, the quiet echoed around the house.

‘nah.. they never are,’ he shrugs, there’s a certain sadness to his voice as he settles into the cushions.

‘oh.. at least they don’t know that you’re suspended i guess..’ you try to spin it positively but you can tell just how hurt he is.

‘yeah.. i guess..’

you sit down on the couch next to him, grabbing the phone from the table and passing it to him.

‘c’mon.. it’s my treat so get whatever you want,’ you cross your legs up onto the couch, watching him on the phone. completely enamoured with his every little move.

-

there’s some action film on the tv, not your first choice obviously.

your knees are tucked into your chest as steve leans against you, head on your shoulder. you honestly weren’t even sure he was still awake.

‘i’m really sorry, steve,’ it comes out in barely a whisper.

you hear him sigh, ‘i know.. it’s okay,’ he lifts his head off of your shoulder, now looking at you.

‘no, steve.. it’s not okay.. i hurt you and that’s not okay..’ you can’t bare to look at him, into his sad, doe eyes, instead playing with the hem on your jeans.

‘it is.. im telling you that it is.. you aren’t my girlfriend and..’ he exhales, ‘it’s okay that you don’t want to be.. i shouldn’t have just expected it from you..’

you’re still picking at the loose thread on your jeans, ‘but i do.. i do want that.. i just- there’s something wrong with me and i just can’t help it, i fuck everything up.. i hurt people..’ you shake your head, quickly wiping away the tear that had slipped out.

being so vulnerable with him made you sick to your stomach. the first person in a long time to tap into this part of you, the side you had buried deep down.

he swallows before putting his hand on your knee, ‘you haven’t.. fucked anything up, i’m still here aren’t i?

you’re brave enough to slowly look up at him through sodden eyelashes, blinking at his words.

‘you know.. i’ve been begging to hear you say that for so long..’ he breathes, inching closer to your face.

‘i don’t wanna hurt you..’ you murmur, his hand cupping your cheek as he wipes your damp cheek.

he leans forward, placing his lips on your yours. the kiss is similar to the one you’d shared in his bed on sunday morning, soft with no ulterior motives. affectionate and gentle, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours as his thumb still tracing your cheek, ‘then don’t.’

you nod, placing your hand on top of his before kissing his lips again. carefully placing your other hand on his bruised cheek, sure to be gentle with him.

‘does this mean you’re my girlfriend?’ he mumbles into the kiss.

you laugh against his lips, ‘if you want me to be..’

he pulls back to look at you, ‘i want nothing more,’ the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.

‘then i’m yours.’

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Just Tap Out

Oikawa sees his boyfriend get his arm broken in the ring.

For @crusthug

Oikawa was panicking.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was.

He’d grown used to your job. You were an athlete, just like he was. It was how you initially bonded. But your sports were massively different, and it had never been more clear than it was tonight.

He, admittedly, hadn’t been familiar with UFC until he learned it was what you did. And then he spent days down a rabbit hole of researching it, like how he invested himself in watching volleyball game tapes to analyze playing style. He knew it was violent.

But you had always won. He had never had to see you the way he saw you tonight, pinned with an almost certainly broken arm. You didn’t tap out, the ref never called for a stop for the medic like he absolutely should have.

He still had no idea how you managed to knock your opponent out with only one working arm. But he didn’t plan to be quiet about it.

You exited the locker room, arm in a sling after seeing the official doctor, and found your boyfriend waiting for you, “Tooru, hey, I didn’t-“

“What the fuck was that, Y/N!?” You were caught off guard by the aggression in his voice, “Why didn’t you tap out? Why didn’t you take care of yourself!?”

“I…I knew I could win…I thought you’d understand that…”

“Winning isn’t everything!” He threw his hands up, tugging at his usual picture perfect hair, his volume rising and echoing off the corridor walls.

You held out your good hand, reaching for him but he brushed you off, “Tooru, baby, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s nothing I’m not used to. I thought you understood the dangers by now.”

“I thought I did too.” He answered, glare on his face, “But I just had to watch my boyfriend get hurt because he wouldn’t just give up!”

Ordinarily, you were the one that told the two of you to take a step back, so neither of you would say something you’d regret. But you were in pain, and honestly you were getting tired of always being the bigger person when he threw a fit.

You wanted to scoff. How many times had you said the same thing to him? How many times did he ignore your concern when his knee was bothering him because he thought he needed more and more practice?

You wanted to scoff.

So you did.

Fixing him with your own glare, you asked him, “So why does this apply to me and not to you?”

“Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, Tooru!” You yelled back, “If I’m supposed to give up when I can get hurt, in a contact sport where injuries are almost as commonplace as championships, why aren’t you supposed to give up when your injuries only happens because you ignored the doctor’s orders and didn’t go easy with the extra practicing??”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes, “Don’t try make this about that, I-“

“No! Let’s make this about that!” You cut in, stepping toward him. By reflex he took a step back, “Why is it a one way street here all the time? Why are you allowed to worry me when you work later and later every week even though the doctor has told you and told you again and again to take it easy? But I get hurt one single time in the years we’ve been together, years I’ve been doing this- this thing that I love and have the same passion for that you do for volleyball!?” Your chest heaved when you finished, but he was ready to go again. It felt like an hour the two of you argued in that hallway before you realized you may have let it go a little too far. In a much calmer tone, you decided to deescalate for the time being, “I’m…I’m going to go ahead home.”

“You can’t drive! Let me-“

“I’d rather be alone right now, Tooru.” You didn’t mean to cut him off as sharply as you did, “I’ll have my coach drop me off.”

He watched you go, feeling the crushing weight of guilt when he realized you were right. Who was he to yell at you like that?

When had he ever listened to you when you tried to make him take care of his knee?

When had you ever gotten mad at him over it?

Would you even forgive him for this?

Iwaizumi was expecting a FaceTime call when your match ended. He watched the fight on tv, and every time after you were cleaned up his annoying best friend would call so that he could congratulate you on the win.

He didn’t expect this call to be met with Oikawa’s tear stricken face.

You had made a promise very early on in your relationship that unless you had work, you’d be attending every single one of each other’s matches. That you never let anything personal interfere.

But when it was the next day and Oikawa had never come home, you were questioning going to his game.

In the end, you caved. You threw his spare jersey on as carefully as you could while you cradled your arm, and made your way to the gym. Some fans recognized you, and asked for pictures when they realized you couldn’t sign autographs. You posed as cheerfully as you could.

Oikawa didn’t look for you like he usually did during warm ups. His eyes never even drifted toward the crowd. Like he was forcing himself not to check.

Tooru didn’t know if he could handle looking out and not seeing you there. When he’d met you years ago, you had been almost pushy to keep the relationship out of the public eye, because you didn’t want his fan club to turn on him for having a boyfriend. But then you went to one of his games on a whim, and when he saw you in the crowd it was like a new energy filled him.

When he won, he didn’t think twice before finding you in the stands and kissing the air out of your lungs.

He’d give anything to have that moment again.

His sets were off.

His serves didn’t have their usual strength.

He could tell he was getting close to subbed out.

But then he heard it.

Your voice.

Cheering his name.

You saw the way his head snapped around, finding you.

The look of relief that washed over his face was unreal.

He won the game. And without waiting for a moment, he charged into the stands and pulled you into his arms, “My prince, I didn’t- I’m sorry- I just- I am so sorry.” You held him as best you could, ignoring the crowd’s stares as he sobbed into your neck. When he pulled away, he finally looked you in the eyes again, “Why did you come? I didn’t expect you to.”

You shrugged with your good arm, “I promised you I would.”

He kissed you, long and deep as the crowd cheered, “I need to talk to the coach. Give me- just give me a few minutes! I’ll be back before you can miss me!”

“I miss you as soon as you walk away.”

He groaned, “Stop being cute! Five minutes!”

It wasn’t until he was holding you in bed that night that he revealed he convinced his coach that he needed time off. He was going to make up for yelling at you by resting himself and helping you heal.

Masterlist

[frogtanii]

“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

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

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

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

[dreamcatcherrs]

mcyts reaction to you flinching during an argument

TW; slight mention of abuse, angst

+ sad boi hours; open

++ for all of you angst lovers<3

song recommendation: start//end - EDEN

dream:

when he yelled something at you, wanting some sort of response from you and you didn’t give it to him, he grabbed you by your arm angrily and pulled you close to him.

you flinched away from him, turning your head away in reflex to what his next move might be.

he would immediately let go of you, taking a step back. he would just look at you, heart dropping at the fact that you thought he’d ever do something to hurt you in any way.

would feel disappointed with himself even days after the incident, and would even doubt if him being with you was a good thing at all, where you’d have to reassure him for him to eventually forget about it.

georgenotfound:

you and george were having a disagreement about something, keeping a close proximity to each other throughout the argument.

after having raised his voice, he would be lifting his hand to move hair out of his face. and that’s when you flinched, closing your eyes thightly.

george honestly wouldn’t know what to do. he’d just be standing there, stuck in place out of shock. eventually, he’d gently grab your hand, scared to touch your face in case you’d flinch again.

he’d talk to you about how he’d never hurt you, and asked if there was some deeper reason as to why you’d flinched so easily.

sapnap:

he would be so angry at himself, and would probably, before you could even stop him, storm out of the house to clear his mind and think about what he’d just done.

when he came back, he would hug you so hard, tears streaming down his face and repeating phrases like “I’m so sorry” and “I’d never hurt you”.

he’d make sure you knew just how much he loved you, and that you had no reason to ever flinch away from him again. cuddle sessions are a definite yes after an incident like this.

badboyhalo:

oh my god, when I tell you this mans’ heart would break into a million pieces-

he’d crush your body in his arms, coddling you so tightly to him whilst whispering sweet words into your ear. he would feel so crushed.

the poor guy would be crying😖

after that, he would try his best to avoid getting into arguments, or at least avoid ever raising his voice at you again.

technoblade:

would feel really hurt that you thought he’d hit you. lowkey a little disappointed about how you flinched so easily just by him raising his hand slightly, but would push the selfish thought aside and talk to you about it calmly, even though the action had really hurt him.

he wasn't a violent person, and he thought you knew that.

he doesn't want to send you down a guilt trip or anything, but he just feels so… lost? makes him doubt wether you trust him and he could think about it for literal weeks, because he’d have a hard time talking about it.

wilbur soot:

runs a hand over his face, wide eyes staring back at you in shock. it takes him a moment to realise that you had just flinched because of him. that you'd acted out in a way people who are scared do. he doesn't really know what to do at first - he doesn't want to cause more damage.

“y/n…” he trails off, lifting a hand slowly towards you, afraid that he’ll scare you away. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to be scared of him.

he cant just stand there, and he can tell that all you really need right now is some comfort, so he’ll just grab you and pull you right into his arms, apologising over and over again and assuring you that he'd never make you flinch again.

skeppy:

he would be really confused.

like, he would just be standing there with a confused expression on his face until you looked up at him again. 

“did you think I was going to hit you?”

his bottom lip would tremble, and his heart would just be pounding out of his chest.

he’d feel better once you comforted him and told him that you just flinch easily, but he would still think about it sometimes when he looked at you.

karl jacobs:

his eyes would widen, quickly trying to reach out and touch you, only realising that the reason you flinched was because you didn’t want him to touch you. because you’d felt a reason to lift your hands in front of you in defence.

instead he would clasp his hand over his mouth, feeling tears well up in his eyes. and just let out a sob.

and that’s when you quickly ran to comfort him, going down with him when he fell onto his knees.

would profusely be mumbling sorries between sobs. that moment would scar him for a long time ;-;

fundy:

would immediately take you into his arms. he pushed aside how much it hurt to know that you could ever be scared of him, because you came first.

lots of back rubbing and cheek kisses - he would be very worried that you flinched because someone had actually hit you before you eve met him or something along those lines.

would apologise for scaring you and wipe tears away from your cheeks if you were crying.

would have a long conversation with you about it afterwards.

quackity:

would back away from you.

he didn’t know what the fuck to do. if he should comfort you or back the hell away. so he chose the safest option, seeing as you had clearly shown a sign of defence.

you would kinda just look at each other for a while.

“I- did you just-” he would cut himself off trying to form the right sentence.

“baby, I wouldn't hit you. you know I wouldn't… right?”

punz:

like sapnap, he would take off, leaving you in confusion and hurt about how you had so easily reacted like that.

he wanted to be there for you, but he knew that he needed to clear his mind and think about what had just happened before he could do that. once he was outside, he would yell at the top of his lungs, letting out his pain through doing so.

when he entered again, he would start talking about how he was such a dick and should be more careful with the way he moves and that he wouldn't ever hurt you or anything like that.

would ramble on until you shut him up, assuring him that there was no reason to be angry or upset. it would definitely calm him down, but he wouldn't be able to sleep very well that night knowing that he had made you flinch so badly.

awesamdude:

sam is just very shocked. and confused… and generally feels a lot of emotions washing over him all at once. the anger was still there, but he could hold it back for a while if it meant being able to wipe that expression off your face.

with furrowed brows he gently cups your cheeks, relieved when you didn't try to pull away or anything like that. he wouldn't really talk directly about it right then, but rather comforts you. you are his number one priority right now.

“hey, hey, hey. it’s okay, I’m here.” and then just hugs you and lets you cry it out on his shoulder. will talk to you about it later and eventually resolve your previous argument. makes sure you never flinch at him again.

corpse husband:

corpse knows he can get pretty heated in arguments, but to make you flinch… he’d never seen that one coming, and honestly, it would hit him like a truck. he would stumble over is own words, hands clamming to you protectively, only to move away again as he realised the one who he had to protect you from was himself. 

would beat himself up about it a lot afterwards. like, he’d think about that look on your face and just space out, which you would notice of course cause his brows would knit together and he’d look so fucking sad. he’d just be scared to do it again.

eret:

it was the worst thing he'd ever witnessed. you can almost hear his heart crack right into two pieces. he’d just look at you with sad, bulging puppy eyes until you moved to look at him again with guilt dancing in your eyes once seeing his.

“y/n, I… I would never hit you.”

I feel like he could cry depending on how bad the argument had been, but overall he is just very very sad. wouldn't be able to hold back even if he was scared of making you flinch again, and would just hold you. until you were ready to talk about it, he’d be right there with his hands clinging onto you for dear life.

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tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade @ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​