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hoeneymilktea · 22 days ago

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deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 5 | rescuing sly fox

Your cousin, Hajime Iwaizumi—whom you haven't seen in a long time, invited you to support him at the largest street racing event in Tokyo. He told you he was a part of the Seijoh Brawlers, one of the notorious top five gangs affiliated with the underground street racing scene. Once he introduced you to his leader, Tooru Oikawa, a.k.a. Cypher—your interest piqued, curiously wanting to understand the true meaning behind his alleged nickname.

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 7.9k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

author's note — This fanfic is inspired by the beautiful and amazing fanart of Street Racer AU Tooru Oikawa. Artist is @aikk00. disclaimer — I do not condone the romanticization of the yakuza or the reality of gang life as I intended not to portray that kind of interpretation, nor promote the activity of illegal street racing. Do not seek out these types of experiences as this work is just a piece of fiction. Please remember to read at your own risk.

renegade nights ⇠ rescuing sly fox ⇢ shower thoughts

✧ chapter specific content warnings: heavy violence, murder, blood, guns, minor character death(s), mentions of kidnapping and ransom

"I have to go right now, I have important business to do with DK."

"Now?" You panicked as he dropped the news on you so quickly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." He pitied, stroking the sides of your thighs with his thumb. "I'm having Leia take you back to my condo."

You watched both Kuroo and Oikawa roll out of the parking lot, the sound of their engines roaring through the street. Kuroo led in front while Oikawa followed closely behind, their red tail lights disappearing into a corner as they furthered their distance from Haiba Ramen.

Two Hours Prior — Cypher & DK

Oikawa grabbed the handheld radio transmitter from his glove compartment and flipped the switch on with his thumb. A static noise erupting from the device before it connected, granting him access to Kuroo's radio. "DK, you there?"

"Copy, Cypher." Kuroo's deep voice rattled through the small voice box.

"Follow you?" Oikawa asked as he pressed the small button on the side of the radio. He watched the bright red Nissan 350Z turn a sharp corner, entering into the Shuto Expressway.

"Roger." Kuroo's responded before he ended the line with a beep from the speaker. Oikawa saw him stick his right hand out of his window, two fingers motioning forward onto the road ahead.

While dropping his handheld radio transmitter on the passenger seat, Oikawa gripped the top of his steering wheel and curled his fingers around the edge of the leather. He glanced down at the middle console for a second, realizing you had left one of your personal belongings in his car. It was a small lip balm, securely tucked inside one of his cupholders.

His mind began to flood with the thought of you and your safety, wishing the double date between all four of you earlier should not have ended so abruptly, but unfortunately some situations took priority over others. To Oikawa, this was one of those situations.

When Kuroo called him over to talk back at Haiba Ramen, Oikawa thought it was going to be another fight on the streets as it was common between them both to settle disputes out. Though, once he saw the same despondent and worrisome look Kuroo rarely gave unless things were out of hand, he knew exactly what was to come.

Kuroo showed a picture of Shinsuke Kita—a.k.a. Sly Fox, tied up in a wooden chair that was rotten all over, handcuffed to the bars behind with his mouth gagged from a green bandana around his face. It was taken and sent by members of the Nohebi clan, a rival yakuza group to the Sakanosita clan that had a personal vendetta against Kuroo, Oikawa and Kita.

Underneath the picture was an accompanied text of Kita's address—the abandoned warehouse that previously belonged to the Sakanoshita family. It once housed all illegal trades and businesses, but now has been left abandoned after the head boss of the Sakanoshita clan passed away.

"Around the corner, in a few. Wait for my call." His handled radio beeped again with the sound of Kuroo's voice.

In the distance was the infamous Sakanoshita warehouse, situated on the brink of the Tokyo Freight Terminal, disguised as several shipping containers stacked together for privacy with a titanium roof. Unless you were working directly under the Sakanoshita clan, most employees in the pier never knew it was a hotspot destination for storing and transporting their contraband to different locations around Japan.

The Sakanoshita family had every political institution wrapped around their finger, and the Tokyo Police Department was no exception. Every illegal business and trade operated on the Tokyo Freight Terminal, as it was also the place Oikawa and Kuroo met for the first time while dealing.

Thinking back to that treacherous memory and his previous dangerously impulsive actions, Oikawa clenched his teeth and tried his best to bury it in the back of his mind. It was best that way, he assumed. He didn't want it to cloud his current judgement, but he found it difficult to withhold the trauma from resurfacing.

He watched Kuroo and his 350Z roll up on the outside of the warehouse and stop right in front of the entrance. The headlights of his car flashed directly on Kita's black Nissan Silvia parked on the side, his bumper scraped up and dented with a broken window on the passenger side door.

Oikawa grabbed the walkie talkie and pressed his thumb against the side button. "DK, slowly. Try your best to not make too much noise going in."

"Roger, Cypher."

Oikawa threw the small radio back onto the passenger seat again, hearing a beep as it plopped down. He placed his right hand on the top of the steering wheel and his left hand on the gear shift, switching it to first. He followed Kuroo as he parked right next to Kita's Silvia, making sure the low rumble of his car was the quietest he could possibly make it.

He watched Kuroo turn off the ignition and flicker his headlights shut. Oikawa did the same, clicking the keys backwards and completely turning off his engine. Once he dimmed his headlights, he turned to Kuroo on his right, waiting for a signal.

Oikawa didn't mind that Kuroo took the lead—he usually did when all three of them went on operations and discreet jobs for the Sakanoshita family. Even when Mr. Sakanoshita died, all three of them remained partners for all underground deals and businesses. Despite the street racing gang rivalry façade they put on with one another, nonetheless they knew when business meant business in all kinds of its forms and they all worked well with it.

Kuroo stepped out of his vehicle and closed his door quietly before Oikawa followed suit and placed his keys in the back pocket of his jeans. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment again and took out his gunmetal pistol, quickly loading the magazine with the accompanied bullets. He loaded each bullet individually with precision—his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pinched as he focused carefully.

Once Oikawa pushed the magazine back into the pistol and cocked the slider, he looked to the left again—your little lip balm resting in the cupholder. Oikawa sighed and reached over to grab it before inspecting the tiny thing, including the labels and the flavor—basically anything he could read that could distract him just for a moment.

He uncapped it and brought it to his mouth with a smile, swiping it across his bottom lip. Oikawa knew that using your lip balm would have made you upset, but he wanted one last reminder of you that brought peace to his mind—knowing after this was all over he would be with you again, wrapped safely in his arms.

He quickly placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before grasping the door handle and swinging his car door open, stepping one foot at a time on the wet asphalt riddled with moss and ocean salt.

Oikawa flinched, knowing his expensive sneakers were to be defiled by the filth of the ocean scum and the oxidized copper embedded in the asphalt, including the scuffs and blood splattered on that he was expecting later as well.

He gently closed his car door and locked the RX-7, making sure only the locks clicked without the beep. Oikawa could feel the cool spring air breeze against his skin as he was left in his white t-shirt, remembering he let you keep his bomber jacket. He glanced over at Kuroo leaning on the edge of his car, hands placed in his red cargo pants while looking down at his shoes.

"What d'ya need that for?" Kuroo asked after he glanced up, his eyes pointing in the direction of Oikawa placing the pistol on his hip, straddled between his jeans and his white t-shirt.

"You never know." Oikawa replied in a monotonous voice, knowing that Kuroo knew exactly why he had the pistol beside him.

"Cypher, we're not trying to kill anyone here, we're only here to negotiate." Kuroo crossed his arms as he stared at Oikawa. "We could face serious consequences if this gets out of hand."

He didn't respond immediately as he walked past Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the entrance of the warehouse. Without turning his head back, Oikawa scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "You trust people too easily."

Kuroo followed closely behind with a switchblade in his hand, ready for anything. Oikawa questioned why he didn't keep a gun on him in case of emergencies as Kuroo knew better than to bring a knife to a gunfight. Nonetheless, he was right—if the situation becomes out of hand, consequences are to be faced in the future.

Once reaching the entrance of the warehouse, they pressed their backs up against the cold titanium exterior of the shipping containers, sneakily peeping their heads into the void of the room. Kuroo looked in first, placing a lone finger up to his lips as he commanded Oikawa to be quiet.

The atmosphere grew heavier as it became harder for them to breathe. Oikawa cocked the pistol, placing both of his hands on the handle, one finger resting on the right side of the trigger.

Kuroo had his switchblade ready before he walked in discreetly, Oikawa following closely behind. The first thing they noticed was the eminently dark interior of the warehouse with empty boxes, unused oil barrels and blood stained plastic tables pushed to the sides of the walls. Yet, what caught their attention was the single lightbulb slightly swinging above Kita's unconscious body tied to a rotten oakwood chair.

Kuroo instantaneously rushed to his side as Oikawa pointed his gun around the warehouse, one eye closed as he tried his hardest to look out for any of the Nohebi clan members hiding in the dark.

"Sly Fox," Kuroo whispered as he tapped on Kita's cheeks a few times to wake him up. "Sly, it's me, DK."

Kita's face was bruised and beaten—his lip split open and swollen to the touch while scratches and lacerations scattered his face. He was bleeding from his forehead as dried blood scattered his left eyelid, a black eye resting on his right. His hands were tied behind the rotten bars of the wooden oak chair, his fingers broken and bleeding as his frail wrists were slit with the rough rope tied around them.

Kuroo placed his hand on the back of Kita's damp hair, the ends of his locks dripping of sweat, blood and grime. His whole head flung back, his lips parted as Kuroo tried to wipe the fresh blood off his lips with his thumb.

Oikawa lowered his gun down to help Kita, holding him still as Kuroo pulled out his switchblade to untie his hands. He looked down at Kita again, his infamous Inarizaki Bois hoodie slashed open across his chest, exposing a large wound on his torso. His snake tattoo poked out from his chest, the eyes of the animal crossed out with two puncture wounds.

"Hold Sly Fox still while I untie his hands." Kuroo commanded before crouching behind the oakwood chair. Oikawa placed his hands behind Kita's head, holding him up.

"Sly, hang in there." He comforted, looking straight at Kita's desolate and pitiful expression as he laid unconscious. Kuroo flipped open the blade and quickly sawed the bondage around his wrists, cutting open the knot as the ends of the rope frayed.

Oikawa hovered his hand over Kita's mouth to make sure he was still breathing while Kuroo cut the last of the knots, freeing his wrists. They both flung Kita's arms up and around Kuroo's shoulders, positioning his body behind his back as he carried him off the chair.

Kita released a guttural sound in the back of his throat as his eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting out of unconsciousness. Oikawa patted his cheek several times, looking at his face resting behind Kuroo's shoulder.

"Sly, you okay?" Oikawa asked, peering down at Kita as he mumbled incoherently.

"Mmhmm... t-t-ta..." Kita mumbled as his mouth drooled on Kuroo's shoulder.

"Sly," Oikawa placed his left hand on his knee while he waved his right hand over Kita's eyes.

"Trap," he whispered, his eyes shot wide open as his expressionless face transformed into a panicked frown. Kita's hazel eyes shifted to the left as his breath hitched, his lips quivering against the cold air.

"It's a trap!"

"What is he talking—"

Boom.

Oikawa had been cut off by a loud gust of gunshots echoing throughout the air, shooting in all directions of the warehouse. Both Oikawa and Kuroo instantly dropped down to the floor, placing their hands over their heads to protect their ears.

Kuroo winced as Kita crushed over his figure, the weight of Kita's body pushing down onto his lungs. His cough was overshadowed by the rounds of gunfire shooting throughout the air. He glanced at Oikawa, begging for his help as Kita fell unconscious again.

Oikawa noticed Kita's gun holstered around his calf, sticking out from the bottom of his black jeans. He shuffled on the ground, pulling his body up by his forearms before he scrunched back the hem of his jeans on Kita's left leg. He reached his hand up and grabbed the gun from the strap, pulling out a clean and sleek all-black pistol.

Kita's gun was heavy and loaded with his moniker initials "S.F." engraved in the front. Oikawa pushed it across the floor with his leg and watched it spin on the concrete floor, letting Kuroo grab the handle as he quickly placed it in between his black tank top and red cargo pants.

"Give me your blade, now!" Oikawa loudly whispered, placing his hand out in front of Kuroo's face. He obliged and twirled the switchblade from his hand on the concrete towards Oikawa's direction. Before he grabbed the handle and locked the blade back, Oikawa shoved it into his back pocket and placed his hands back onto his head.

The gunshots stopped for a moment before Oikawa noticed seven men step out of the darkness behind a stack of shipment boxes in the corner of the warehouse. They all wore dark green suits and black shades—a wretched aura wafting from their crooked smirks.

The one in the middle stepped up forward and removed his black sunglasses, slicking back his dark hair to reveal his thin, snake-like eyes. Oikawa couldn't believe it, he was so sure he'd never see him again—

"Tooru Oikawa. Tetsurou Kuroo. You fuckers."

Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up to see Suguru Daishou of the yakuza Nohebi clan—a.k.a. Fangs —hovering above him, hissing under his breath while placing his hands in his pockets. At the snap of his fingers, two of the men beside Daishou instantly rushed to Oikawa, Kuroo and Kita on the floor.

"Fangs, you son of a bitch—fuck!" Oikawa groaned as one of the men stomped directly on his back, digging the bottom of his heel against the crook of his lumbar, firmly placing all of his weight on Oikawa's body beneath him. He closed his eyes and winced when the man tied his hands together with rough-textured rope, deliberately scratching the fabric against his wrists.

He looked over at Kuroo, who was already restrained by one of the other men—his hands tied behind his back with the exact same rope. Kita laid unconscious on the floor beside him, his cheek pressed against the concrete with his limbs twisted in multiple directions.

"After all these years, I've finally caught you both." Daishou slowly made his way over to Oikawa struggling underneath the yakuza henchman's grip on his body. He looked down at Oikawa, giving an ominous smirk before kicking him straight in the face. "You thought you guys could get away with what you fucking did?"

The tip of Daishou's shoe slammed against the edge of Oikawa's jaw, dislodging a joint on the left side of his mandible. Oikawa closed his eyes and groaned, ejecting bloodied phlegm from his mouth.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself before coughing profusely, struggling underneath Daishou's grip before looking up at him grin from ear to ear.

"You both make me sick. After what you guys did to Mika, you both deserve more than death itself." Daishou kicked Oikawa in the jaw again, instantly satisfied by the wails of anguish underneath his foot.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Kuroo coughed as the yakuza henchman stepped further on his back, digging his heel deeper against his spine.

"My Mika, you fucking killed her."

"Sorry sweetheart, but I don't know who the fuck you're talking about." Kuroo sarcastically retorted before the yakuza henchman stomped his other foot on his head, smashing his cheek against the filthy concrete floor. Kuroo let out a disdained low grunt, instantly shutting his mouth closed.

"Maybe this will jog your memory, you piece of shit." Daishou pulled his own pistol out from his waist, aiming it towards Kuroo.

"Wait! Wait! Hold the fuck on! I legitimately don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Who the fuck is Mika?!" Kuroo squirmed underneath the yakuza henchman's grip, who had already drawn his own gun at Kuroo's head.

Oikawa gulped hard as his eyes widened, knowing who and what exactly happened to Daishou's beloved girlfriend, Mika Yamaka.

He could remember it like it just happened yesterday. Somehow, just like every other memory he tried to suppress, it became buried in the back of his mind until it was mentioned once again—only to infiltrate every crevice of his brain and trigger an intense traumatic reminder of who Oikawa was in his past.

Leia's father, Mr. Sakanoshita, secretly called Oikawa over for a meeting. He thought it was another transporting job as all of the work he had done under Mr. Sakanoshita were small side operations transporting the large shipments of whatever latest contraband he purchased and imported at that time. Yet, this particular job was very, very different from the usual.

Once Oikawa sat down, he realized he was the only one in the meeting beside Mr. Sakanoshita himself. Usually Kuroo, Kita and Leia sat in as well, as the four of them would go on transportation operations frequently together . Unfortunately for Oikawa, that meeting was not one of those jobs.

Regarding how much of a terrible man Mr. Sakanoshita was—he had the idea of ransoming his rival yakuza clan in Tokyo, the Nohebi, out of billions of yen. He asked Oikawa to kidnap Mika Yamaka, the girlfriend of the Nohebi clan's leader, Suguru Daishou.

Oikawa hesitated at first; he hadn't kidnapped someone before on his own, much less an innocent woman. Though, due to his previous affiliation with the yakuza in Osaka, Mr. Sakanoshita looked into Oikawa's time serving as the leader of his own section. He was involved in multiple heists, kidnappings and murders of several men held for ransom instructed by the boss of the Kitagawa Daiichi. This job wouldn't have been new for him, and Mr. Sakanoshita knew that.

He was about to decline his offer before Mr. Sakanoshita shined a bright one-hundred million yen in front of him—all paid and given before he even did the job itself. At the time, Oikawa relied only on his side deals, street racing bets and the Seijoh Brawlers' tune shop for cash, so this new influx of money really sealed the deal for him.

Before accepting Mr. Sakanoshita's offer, Oikawa asked about why he hadn't proposed the job to Kuroo instead as he was loyal and much closer to the Sakanoshita family than he was. In fact, Kuroo was the one to give Oikawa the chance to work underneath the Sakanoshita Clan in the first place when he arrived in Tokyo.

Mr. Sakanoshita had a suspicion that Kuroo had been hiding things behind his back and compromising his loyalty to the clan. Although he knew Kuroo was with Leia, Mr. Sakanoshita believed he was growing "too soft" by dating his daughter. This didn't align well with the ransom, as Kuroo would have pitied Mika because of Leia and her similar position of vulnerability. He also suspected Kuroo had known more about his true intentions than he had hoped.

Mika attended the exact same university as you and Iwaizumi, the University of Tokyo. She was a full time student with easygoing nursing prerequisite classes and a rich yakuza boyfriend. Mika was carefree, reckless and vulnerable—which made her an easy target for ransom. Every weekday, she went to class in a luxurious white Lexus GS 350, a beautiful birthday present from her loving boyfriend, Suguru Daishou himself.

One night, Oikawa rolled up to the University of Tokyo in an old, beater-type 1996 dark green Honda Accord that Mr. Sakanoshita had lent him to use for the ransom. Mr. Sakanoshita provided her exact class schedule, knowing she had night classes specifically on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He scanned across the parking lot for Mika's Lexus GS 350, noticing an open parking spot beside her car.

He executed a plan that worked perfectly—after she finished her classes, he asked Mika to "help" him jump start his car. Oikawa had put on the perfect innocent and helpless act that any naïve girl would fall for. He wore fancy trousers and a button up shirt, slicked back his hair and covered his tattoos with makeup to fool Mika into believing he was a normal business major looking for a jumpstart on his old beater car.

The plan was foolproof—Mika instantly fell for his little act. The minute she arrived at her car and unlocked her door, Oikawa stepped out begging for her help with jumper cables ready in his hands. Much to her demise, she obliged and let Oikawa pop open the hood of her car, connecting the jumper cables to her battery.

Unfortunately for Mika, her lack of attention and car logistics failed to recognize Oikawa taking out her spark plug and pulling a few wires in the engine so her car wouldn't start properly. The minute he "fixed" his car, hers wouldn't work—causing Oikawa to coincidentally offer Mika a ride home. Alas, that would be the last of Mika's public appearances.

It wasn't hard for Oikawa to restrain her in the backseat either. He duct-taped her mouth shut and blindfolded her eyes while tying her entire body in rough-textured rope that grazed against her fragile skin whenever she resisted. Her irritating cries for help annoyed Oikawa to the point he had to pull over behind a remote gas station to keep her quiet.

Oikawa didn't mean to kill her as his intent was to put her to sleep. Yet, while she was in a tight headlock, Oikawa accidentally snapped her neck, severing her spinal cord. One hard twist to her throat and she was gone for good. Mika dropped onto the backseat of the Accord, her lips quivering as she struggled to breathe. Nonetheless, she died from asphyxiation and the fatal drop of her blood pressure.

Her lifeless body laid in the backseat of the shitty run-down Honda Accord as Oikawa looked down at his hands with a panicked and shocked expression; his eyes wide and his lips trembling. He had murdered plenty of men before, his kill count racking up into the double digits.

Yet, accidentally killing Mika was the one that broke him down to the core, as it reminded him exactly why he had left Osaka in the first place. It stayed in his consciousness for years after, suppressed away in the back of his mind.

He drove carefully in the night up the mountain to the Sakanoshita mansion with Mika's dead body resting in the backseat. Oikawa couldn't remember how the rest of the drive went before immediately rushing to Mr. Sakanoshita's office as his breathing hyperventilated, his eyes widening in fear and tears rushing down his cheeks.

Mr. Sakanoshita, being the shitty man he was, didn't mind Oikawa's convicted manslaughter. In actuality, he preferred if she was already dead anyways—it made the process a lot easier for him. He planned to not inform the Nohebi clan of her living status, letting them pay off the five billion yen before handing her body over.

Oikawa remembered Daishou's screams of anguish when one of the Sakanoshita henchmen opened the back door of the beater Honda Accord and kicked out Mika's lifeless body, stiff from the developing rigor mortis. Oikawa drove the car as fast as he could after he pushed her out, speeding away in the night as Daishou collapsed to his knees wailing over Mika in the rearview mirror.

Oikawa was instructed to dump the car in the landfill, dousing the Honda Accord with gasoline and setting the car aflame while getting rid of any evidence tracing back to him. He thought the deed was done and that he would never see Daishou or the Nohebi clan ever again after that. Years passed without anyone ever knowing Oikawa was involved with the death and ransom of Mika Yamaka—not even Kuroo himself.

Oikawa was certain that Daishou couldn't tell it was him in the drivers' seat of the getaway car as he wore a hat, sunglasses and everything he could to cover up his identity when they went to drop off Mika's body. Yet, Daishou still reduced it down to two men he knew worked under the Sakanoshita family: Cypher and DK.

Daishou knew it wasn't Sly Fox because of the way the driver of the car drifted the Honda Accord around a tight corner without fail. Only two men in the whole underground racing scene could drift so swiftly; Tooru Oikawa and Tetsurou Kuroo. That's how he lured them in anyways, targeting Sly Fox first to get to them. A firearms deal was the easiest to do—not every gang member bought drugs but every gang member needed a gun.

The Inarizaki Bois were the only "street-racing formed" gang involved with the trafficking of firearms, drugs and pirated goods—any type of contraband you could think of. The only thing they didn't dapple in was human trafficking, which was a whole other league to itself in Japan. Kita was the best at it, leading all of the members of the Inarizaki Bois to be dealers themselves rather than only him.

Unfortunately it left Kita to become too cocky with a lack of judgment on the kinds of customers that were buying his products. That's how the Nohebi clan captured Kita, luring him into the abandoned Sakanoshita warehouse and catching him off guard—mercilessly beating him while baiting Kuroo and Oikawa to his aid.

"Cypher! What the fuck is Fangs talking about?!" Kuroo screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes filled with panic as Daishou and his henchmen aimed two pistols at his head.

Oikawa's stomach dropped, unable to speak as Kuroo's head was gunned down onto the filthy concrete. He never told Kuroo about the ransom, even long after the death of Mr. Sakanoshita. It was just one of the few things Oikawa kept from Kuroo and Leia, hoping they never had to find out about it.

"Admit you killed her, fucker." Daishou pulled back the slider and cocked his pistol. "Or perhaps I'll pay a visit to Miss Leia Sakanoshita herself."

"NO!" Kuroo screamed and whimpered against the henchman's grip, trying to pry open the rope around his wrists. "I seriously don't know what you're talking about! I didn't kill anyone!"

Oikawa couldn't let Kuroo take the blame for something he didn't do, much less a job he didn't even know about. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling the blood rush to his head as the henchman's heels dug straight beneath his right shoulder blade.

"Stop," Oikawa choked, looking up at Daishou as he lowered his gun at Kuroo. "I killed her. I killed Mika. DK had nothing to do with it."

"You fucking bitch." Daishou swung his right leg violently, kicking Oikawa in the mouth again. He felt the pop of his jaw shift to the right, the pain rushing to the left side of his face. Oikawa let out an anguished wail of pain as he spat out blood onto the concrete floor.

He looked up at Kuroo, watching his face contort into an expression he'd never seen on him before. His eyes looked drained of life and shocked to the bone as his mouth hung open, absolutely speechless over Oikawa's confession. A single tear dropped from his left eye, rolling down his dirty cheek and onto the concrete.

"What...?" Kuroo mouthed before Daishou kicked Oikawa in the jaw again, knocking his head down onto the floor.

"You're fucking dead, Cypher." Daishou stomped on Oikawa's head, the tip of his black shoe repeatedly shoved into his bloody mouth over and over again. He coughed profusely, aimlessly trying to catch his breath. The Nohebi yakuza henchman took his foot off of Oikawa's back, relieving the heavy pressure on his spine.

Daishou crouched down to Oikawa's level, placing the barrel of his gun against his head. He rested his index finger on the trigger, cocking the slider before leaning in closer to his face.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Kuroo screamed, squirming underneath the Nohebi henchman. His eyes widened to the point they would pop out of his skull, panic and shock overriding his entire body as he watched Daishou press the barrel of his gun further against Oikawa's forehead.

"Isn't it obvious already? Sakanoshita hired Cypher here to kidnap and kill my Mika while he dished me out of five billion yen for her dead body," Daishou choked while his eyes watered, removing the gun away from Oikawa's forehead before he turned to Kuroo with a single tear dropping from his cheek. "Mika is dead because of Sakanoshita."

"Then why are you going after us?! Sakanoshita was the one who planned the whole thing, wasn't it?! He's dead already, so why are you going after Cypher?! It's obvious he was a pawn in Sakanoshita's fucked up game!"

Kuroo screamed in pain, writhing his body back and forth on the concrete underneath the yakuza henchman's grip. Daishou turned around back to Oikawa, wiping away the single tear on his face with the sleeve of his blazer.

"It's not the same. For my own satisfaction, I want Cypher to suffer the same way I did."

Oikawa looked back up at Daishou's tall figure leaning over him. An ominous grin formed on his face again, curling the corners of his mouth as he kicked Oikawa in the jaw. While he coughed up another phlegm of blood onto the concrete, Daishou crouched down and grabbed his face—forcing Oikawa to look at him.

"I saw that you got yourself a girl, Cypher." Daishou maliciously smiled, narrowing his eyes as he chuckled lightly, mentioning your name nonchalantly with a bitter taste lingering on his tongue. "She's very beautiful, just like my Mika. We all saw her in the passenger seat of your car during the race in downtown Tokyo."

"Don't you fucking dare," Oikawa growled through his teeth as he pinched his eyebrows, glaring straight up at Daishou. "I'll fucking kill you."

"Oh? Kill me? I'd like to see you try." Daishou grabbed Oikawa's face again, pinching the bottom of his cheeks with his thumb and index finger. "Perhaps I'll kidnap and tie her up while I slowly drain the humanity out of her lifeless, pretty little body. I'll kill her like you did to my Mika, maybe then you'll know how I felt."

Oikawa gritted his teeth and reached his right hand down into his pocket, feeling the rough handle of Kuroo's switchblade before he clicked the release button open. Luckily for Oikawa, both Daishou and the Nohebi henchman didn't notice him cut through the rope around his wrists as he slipped his right hand out.

Daishou tilted Oikawa's chin up and stared at the blood dripping down from his busted lip with the scuffs of his shoe smothered on his jaw. Before he could say anything, Oikawa smirked at him while furrowing his eyebrows and puckering his lips before spitting blood and saliva straight into Daishou's eyes.

"Fuck!" He stumbled back, wiping the filth from his eyes before Oikawa stabbed his left thigh with Kuroo's switchblade. His scream echoed into the warehouse as the small knife sunk deeper into his skin, the blood profusely oozing out of the wound because Oikawa struck his femoral artery.

Daishou looked up at Oikawa as he towered above him, the murderous look in his eyes overshadowed his scathed and battered face. His pupils constricted while he muttered a distasteful threat, an intense expression growing on his face as his eyes widened with rage.

"If you ever so lay a finger on her, I'll take my sweet time killing you, much slower than I did with Mika."

He yanked the knife out of Daishou's thigh, his blood coated along the blade. In an instant, the Nohebi henchman grabbed Oikawa from the back, placing him into a choke hold. He flung his body backwards, stabbing the henchman in the neck with the same switchblade. That same henchman released Oikawa and clutched his throat before falling to the ground, bleeding out from his neck.

In the corner of his eye, the rest of the Nohebi henchman tackled him and grabbed each of Oikawa's arms, restraining his movements. The switchblade in his hands dropped to the floor, the clink of the stainless steel echoing on the concrete of the warehouse. The henchman with black hair kicked the switchblade in the opposite direction, furthering its distance from him. Unbeknownst, he kicked it straight to Kuroo's side, to which he rolled over and grabbed it with the tips of his fingers.

Just as much as Kuroo was skilled with drifting, he was even better at handling blades. In one swift motion, he cut the ropes restraining his arms. Once he was free, Kuroo rubbed his wrists together and placed his palms on the concrete, lifting himself up from the ground. The henchman that previously had him restrained instantly charged towards Kuroo, pulling out his gun in the process.

Kuroo quickly reacted and ducked, dodging the bullet aimed at his body while kicking the henchman off his feet with his left leg, knocking the man in the dark green suit straight into the ground. The henchman let out a grunt as his body hit the floor, Kuroo body-slamming on top of him afterwards.

He pressed the blade up to the henchman's neck, the sweat accumulating on his forehead as he looked down at the man with blonde hair. Kuroo looked into his pleading eyes, begging for him to spare his life.

"I apologize, but this is just mere self-defense. You charged at me first." He then sliced his neck, blood dripping from the fresh wound as the henchman's eyes rolled back into his skull.

On the other side of the warehouse, Oikawa elbowed the henchman in the chest to his right, punching him straight in the face as he stumbled back. He lunged straight at the other henchman, pulling out his gun from his waist and shooting him straight in the leg. The man wailed in his ear before Oikawa smashed the handle of his gun in the face of the henchman, knocking out a bloodied tooth or two.

Behind him, Oikawa heard a screech of war coming from the remaining Nohebi members. He turned around and instantly dodged their punches, instead grabbing their leg and pushing them on the ground, punching them in the face repeatedly until he couldn't recognize the man anymore.

Some blood scattered across Oikawa's face as his mouth frowned and his eyes filled with rage and fury. The man below him screamed, his cries overshadowed by the rounds of clips echoing from a few feet away.

Oikawa looked behind him to see Sly Fox's pistol secured tightly in Kuroo's grip as he pointed straight at the dying aforementioned henchman. In an instant, Kuroo shot him in the chest, his body instantly hitting the floor once the round went off.

"I thought you said we shouldn't kill anyone!" Oikawa screamed across the warehouse, extending his arms out in confusion.

"This is just self-defense!" Kuroo yelled back with some humor in his tone while Oikawa shrugged it off and focused his attention to the other henchman lunging at him.

The shouting and loud clip rounds shocked Kita awake, his eyes fluttering open as he scrambled on the floor. While his eyes shot wide open and his breathing became heavy, Kuroo grabbed Kita's torso under his arms and lifted him up off the concrete. Once he got him up off his feet, Kuroo winced and then looked at Oikawa, nodding his head.

With his teeth clenched, Kuroo gave the emergency signal they both agreed upon if the situation went south—their plan B of killing them all off. He carefully dragged Kita behind a tower of barrels, escaping the fight and nursing Kita back to consciousness.

He knew what Oikawa was capable of, and leaving him to fight the henchman all by himself wasn't cowardly—in fact, Kuroo left Oikawa in his element. In all his time knowing him, he had only seen Oikawa truly unhinged twice—when they first met, and then now, facing the yakuza Nohebi clan.

Two henchmen were already dead, the bald one Oikawa stabbed in the neck and the blonde one Kuroo had shot earlier. That meant five men were left—one lying unconscious on the ground, face beaten to a pulp and unable to move; the other three henchmen lunging towards him. That just left Daishou clutching his thigh, trying his hardest to put pressure on his shot wound.

Oikawa took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, regaining his momentum. His right hand held his gunmetal pistol, his pointer finger resting on the side of the trigger. The second he opened his eyes, he cocked the slider and pointed it directly at one of the three henchmen, shooting him straight in the chest. Once his body was close enough, Oikawa kicked him in the throat, his head twisting to the left as he collapsed onto the concrete.

Whipping around, Oikawa closed his left eye and aimed straight at the other henchman running towards him, aiming directly at his forehead as a bullet lodged straight through his skull. His pupils rolled back, the whites of his eyes completely covering the entirety of his orbital fissure. The henchman hit the floor, his neck snapping under his weight. Oikawa kicked his back, his body rolling over onto his death.

The third henchman stopped in his tracks, his hands up in the air begging for him to spare his life. Through his rage, Oikawa mercilessly shot him three times in the chest—the rounds of bullets echoing into the warehouse as the henchman's body dropped on top of the others.

Oikawa was on a rampage, killing three men instantaneously within a minute of each other. He breathed heavily and watched the smoke come out the top of his pistol, slowly rising up to the ceiling. He turned around, only to make eye contact with Suguru Daishou once again.

Oikawa didn't feel anything inside of him. He couldn't find his humanity, nor his sanity as every ounce of compassion or sympathy for the man pleading beneath him drained out of his body. He didn't see a man avenging the death of his girlfriend—he saw a cowardly, weak excuse of a human being on his knees, tears in his eyes, begging for his pathetic life to be spared.

"Please," Daishou choked, his lips quivering as he dragged his body against the concrete floor. "I'll do whatever you want, I'll give you all my money. Just please spare me."

"Money can't spare your life."

In that moment, Daishou knew those words would be the last he heard on his final moment on earth. Before his life flashed before his eyes, he looked up at Oikawa pointing the tip of his sleek gunmetal pistol straight at him as he stared into the dark, empty abyss of the barrel. The violent and murderous look in Oikawa's bloodshot eyes sent a cruel, despairing chill down Daishou's spine before his mind went blank, completely disconnecting his consciousness from his body.

Oikawa shot three rounds all within a millisecond of each other, three flashes of bangs lighting up into the warehouse. He watched Daishou's body smash onto the concrete, his lifeless vessel lying in a pool of his dark, viscous red blood. Oikawa looked down at the gunmetal pistol in his hand, his bruised fingers grasping the handle tightly while his knuckles were battered and bleeding.

The warehouse fell silent, only the sound of water dripping from rotten pipes echoed throughout the inside of the large shipment container. It was still dark all except for the single lightbulb swinging over the decaying wooden chair knocked over on the concrete.

The smoke from his gun barrel wisped up to the ceiling, the smell putrid of metal bullets infiltrating the surrounding air around Oikawa. Nothing ran through his mind as the echoes of his heavy breathing filled the sound in his ears.

Kuroo and Kita slowly walk out from behind the barrels, Kita's left arm around Kuroo's shoulder. Kita limped alongside him as he placed his hand on Kuroo's chest for support. They both looked up at Oikawa, his eyes still bloodshot as his chest rose up and down from his staggered deep breaths.

"You're fucking ruthless, Cypher." Kuroo looked up with a small smirk on his face. He let out a hesitated chuckle, not sure if it was an appropriate time to crack a joke.

Murdering was easy for Oikawa. To simply take someone's precious life away from them in a single second, he never even gave it another thought. Most of the time his adrenaline and aggression take over his mindset, causing every single emotion in his brain to shut down. To his defense, most of the people he had killed were criminals with no morality deserving to die, specifically other men.

Though when he killed Mika Yamaka, her death meant something else to him. She wasn't anything like the men he had killed before at all, the only crime she could have committed was just unfortunately being associated with a truly immoral man.

The entire time, through the eyes of a manipulator, he tried his best to portray a side of himself that wouldn't scare you away. He purposely withheld showing the true side to himself—the ruthless, murderous and violent convicted criminal that is Tooru Oikawa.

He admitted that he was a bad person. Back down in Osaka, he was known for being a silent killer as his own clan fiercely feared him and what he was capable of. His reputation got around quickly, spreading far and wide to other yakuza families, not to mess with the Kitagawa Daiichi. Though, sooner or later, that same reputation would be his demise.

He lost his cool, calm and collected demeanor very quickly whenever faced in a life-or-death situation, and only one other person besides the people he killed had ever seen that side to himself: Tetsurou Kuroo.

"You alright?"

Kuroo's question snapped Oikawa awake, his eyes blinking a few times before his vision focused back on Kita. "Yeah, I'm fine. How's Sly Fox?"

"Doing better," Kuroo grabbed Kita's arm and pulled him off his feet again as they both limped closer to Oikawa. Kuroo glanced over to Kita, his eyes still fluttering as he deeply inhaled.

"Pretty sure he was high off his mind before we got here. Smell his breath, dude. Strong ass ganja. I think he's weaning off of it, though."

"I'm fine," Kita whispered, his body slowly standing up on his own. He placed his right foot in front of the other, stabilizing himself to walk. "I can drive, you guys don't have to worry about me."

"You sure?" Oikawa cocked an eyebrow, peering down at Kita struggling to stand up.

"Yeah," Kita exhaled as he placed both of his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He stood up quickly and reached his right hand behind his back, grabbing his keys in the back pocket of his jeans. "When am I ever sober though?"

Kuroo and Oikawa looked at each other and shrugged as Kita stood up on his own. The large slash across his chest scabbed over with his black Inarizaki Bois hoodie defiled and stained with his blood. He sighed and looked up at Kuroo before glancing back to Oikawa.

"Thanks, guys." Through his black eye and the blood and dirt smeared on his face, Kita expressed a lighthearted smile as the left side of his mouth curled up into his cheek. "I probably would have ended up dead like these fuckers if you guys didn't show up."

All three of them looked back at the seven dead bodies of the Nohebi Clan scattered across the concrete of the warehouse, blood pooled and spilled all over the floor.

"We should probably clean this up." Kita suggested, walking towards Daishou as he crouched down and lifted up his lifeless arm, dropping it back down onto his mutilated face—extremely disfigured to the point that you couldn't tell it was Daishou anymore. "Leaving a bunch of dead snakes in a Sakanoshita warehouse is probably bad luck for us. The police are gonna be on our asses again."

In a quick amount of time, the three of them dragged out all of the dead bodies belonging to the members of the Nohebi Clan out onto the Tokyo Freight Terminal, close to the water. Fortunately for them, the tide was aggressive tonight—the Pacific Ocean waves crashing against the pier as each dead body dropped down into the deep, dark abyss of the sea.

Daishou was the last to be dropped in, as Oikawa hauled his surprisingly light body against the pier, his feet dragging along the concrete. Heavy rain began to drop from the sky with small pellets of water collecting on Oikawa's white t-shirt, feeling the cold breeze against his biceps.

He waited until the ocean tide pulled back, allowing a perfect opening for him to drop Daishou's body in the deepest part of the pier. Oikawa counted to three before he flung his body over the edge, watching him descend into the dark abyss of the sea.

"Fuck," Kuroo breathed out as he peered down at the dark blue ocean swallow up Daishou's body. He placed his hands on his hips, his tight fitting black tank top ripped and stained with blood. "I still can't stand the sight of dead bodies."

"You get used to it," Oikawa responded, placing his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the ocean crashing against the side of the tall pier. Part of his hair was drenched from the rain, his wet white t-shirt clinging to the top of his shoulders. "But it isn't something to be proud of."

Once all the bodies were dumped, all three of them left the Tokyo Freight Terminal in their cars, roaring their engines into the night—leaving the old Sakanoshita warehouse abandoned once again.

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#oikawa x reader #hq x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu deciphered #deciphered oikawa #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #tooru oikawa

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lanitalay · 1 year ago

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At sea pt. 2

Rhysand x reader

a/n: I am terrible at naming fics lol

word count:1.4k warnings: none

Part 1

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You can’t control your face as your eyes widen and your mouth gapes at the news.

“Oh…” is all you managed to say as an emptiness creeps up to your throat. He was your friend and nothing more. You had never so much as pecked the High Lord. There was no reason for such a reaction from you. It should not have shocked you, either. He would have had to marry eventually and the renegade daughter of an unstable sailor would not do anything to strengthen the court. “She accepted the proposal?”

“Beron did”

That was another thing to consider. The High Lord of Autumn was well known for his cruelty. You could only imagine the life his only daughter had lived so far. Marrying Rhysand would be a mercy. It would grant her his protection, give her an escape from her rotten father. So being upset by the news was entirely selfish. You could not protest. It would take every single one of your efforts to move on. But for the sake of the war, for the sake of maintaining peace amongst the courts and for helping a helpless female you would grit your teeth and accept that the attraction you felt to the male standing before you was hopeless.

“Congratulations are in order then, High Lord” you say with whatever smile you could muster.

“I-” he begins but stops, looking away from you. His eyes remain on the drawings on the book in front of you and the air feels heavy with something bigger than your own sorrow. A few heartbeats later he returns his gaze to yours and offers you a solemn grin “thank you”.

Weeks pass by as you catalog each new finding from your travels. Paula, your head researcher, was happy with the outcome of the expedition but that only meant more work for you as she asked you to write a meticulous article for each sample being cataloged. By the end of the day your hands were cramped and your writing was barely legible. The exhaustion was also mental, but that was more than welcome because in a few short days your High Lord would be marrying a princess. You were grateful for the fatigue as you reached your bed and collapsed into a dreamless sleep night after night.

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to marry her” Mor’s voice bounces off the walls of Rhysands study.

“There is no other way, cousin. Ever since the situation with Eris the Autumn Court has refused diplomatic relations. We need their fire wielders and their footmen to stand a chance against Hybern” the blonde sighs, exasperated. They have had this discussion plenty of times before.

“You could hold off the wedding until after the war. Once everything is settled you can break it off”

“Beron made it clear his compliance is reliant on us getting married before the leaves begin to brown”

“You don’t love her! She’s basically a child Rhysand and you’d be condemning the rest of your life to be spent with a female who is not right for you” he massaged his temples as he listened to the same arguments she had been making since the announcement.

“As High Lord I need to make sacrifices for the well being of the court. This is the price I must pay”

“Cousin, please”

“Mor, I can’t keep having this conversation” she heaves a breath and leaves the room. The slam of the door rattling the painting and shelves on the walls

“He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, and gods above, I’m Kier’s daughter” Mor rants while pacing the length of your sitting room. She had winnowed to your apartment a few moments ago and knocked so loud on the door that you thought Hybern was invading.

“He has his reasons, Mor” you breathe, trying to keep your composure. Hiding your unhappiness about the matter was easier when you did not think or talk about it.

“You should talk to him, he always listens to you more than he does the rest of us” you begin to shake your head in negation but she insists “you were the only one that got through to him when he wanted to get that awful face tattoo”.

“I only said I didn’t like it”

“Exactly! He cares about your opinion. Just… talk to him. He won’t listen to me” you give her a stern look and she replies “please, I know he’ll live to regret it”.

How could you tell your friend, the day before his wedding, that what he is doing is a mistake? He was not doing it with thoughtless intent. More backup was needed and he found a way to get it, at his own expense. What would be a good argument to convince him otherwise? Would he tell you to mind your business? Would this wreck your friendship?

Three knocks on a wooden door alert him to your presence.

“Come in”

“Hi, Rhys,” you greet him. Smiling as you see his face for the first time in weeks. He looks up from the paper he is reading and his features soften as soon as he spots you.

“Hi, y/n” you shift on your feet. He clears his throat and motions towards a chair in front of the desk “sit, please”. When you sit he adds “what can I help you with?”

The golden buttons of your blouse feel cool against your fingers as you fiddle with them. “I have to talk to you… about tomorrow”.

His jaw clenches in a way you are not used to “what about tomorrow?”

“Are you positive you want to go through with it?”

“Y/n I have no interest in debating my nuptials. It will happen tomorrow and I hope to see you there. But if not, then it won’t make a difference”. Burning fills your chest. Stinging warns you there’s tears that are threatening to spill over. He had never spoken to you like that. Not once.

“Are you sure it is the right thing to do?” You manage to ask.

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to go through with it?”

“Mor believes you’ll regret it, in time”

“I did not ask about what Mor thinks, she has made her opinions clear. I asked if there is a reason you don’t want me to marry the princess?”

You can only think of one. Selfishly, you think he'd be happier with you, in the long run. But confessing you have a crush the day before his wedding is too pathetic. He is thinking of everyone but himself. You are only thinking about him and yourself. So you lower your gaze back to the golden buttons, and say “no, I’m only here because Mor asked me to talk to you but I see you are certain so I’ll tell her I tried”. You stand and leave, refusing to meet his stare as you feel it burning at your back.

For the second night in a row you hear knocks at your door. This time they are even and heavy handed. You smell him before reaching the knob and your heart sputters as if recoiling from who stands outside

“What is it, Rhys?” You ask, voice meek against the High Lord towering over you.

“Why don’t you want me to marry the princess?”

“I already told you” he remains in the doorway, eyes grave, breath unsteady.

“Answer me truthfully” you step aside and motion for him to come inside, no need for your neighbors to hear about this. He walks in and immediately turns on his heels, you slam your back on your closed door and look up at him. His heart is also uneven, you’re close enough to hear it.

“Rhys…”

“Y/n…. please… if you think I’m making a mistake I need you to tell me why” it hurts to see him like this. He’s not resplendent as usual, his shoulders are slanted and his head hangs low.

Low enough you can feel his breath mixing with your own.

“I…” you think of the war, of Hybern, of the princess and of the chaos that will unfold if this wedding does not happen. But then you think of your friend, of the male you love spending the rest of his days with another female and, thinking of yourself, knowing it is illogical and self centered, finish saying “I want to be the one you marry”.

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damneddamsy · 5 months ago

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renegade | aemond targaryen x oc (part iii)

Prince Aemond and Princess Aemma's indefinite courting had dwindled in importance with the announcement of the princess' two brothers' betrothal to their cousins, Baela and Rhaena. After a bloodstained session in court with regards to the beheading of Lord Vaemond Velaryon on the account of calling the Princess of Dragonstone a 'whore' and her declaring her children 'bastards', it was only right that optimistic matters were in order.

Of course, on the note of sweet intrigue, Aemond and Aemma's courtship blossomed in private. As it ensued with their companionship and their mischiefs, it was in strict confidence that the two of them pursued each other. Prince Aemond had doted on her since their youth, now it was up to the young princess to make a real statement.

It wasn't just every other morning. Every morn of Aemma's finite time in the Red Keep, Aemond would commence his day and end his night in her chambers. Her Grace grew frustrated with his proclivity toward the princess, missing his training and dinners. That, of course, did not stop Aegon from taking the piss out of his brother at his own sweet time.

"If there's one lady in this court I am starving to be inside of, it's that gorgeous excuse of a bastard," Aegon would whisper to him during supper, smirking. "Such a temptress deserves to be handed out gold dragons by the dozen. She'd flourish in Flea Bottom."

Aemond's hands fisted and he spoke through his teeth. "That is your niece you slander."

"And?" Aegon chewed his pie loudly. "Am I not caring for her? I'd care even more if she was on her knees before me, mouth wide."

Aemond shut his eyes, recovering his self-control. These were just empty words from a vulgar mouth. Not worth it. And what could he say? Any tongue that rose against the heir to the throne, much less supporting his half-sister's deformed children, would only incite more chaos among his family.

Besides the empty talk from the highborns, Aemma didn't mind the company at all. She had missed Aemond dearly and conversing with him was a breath of fresh air, but it started to get challenging to see him as her friend anymore, especially when he lavished his affection on her so audaciously.

To fan these flames, Aemond would come bearing gifts, particularly of her interests. Some of which was a book of illustrations about the many ancient Targaryen dragons, a medieval gold coin dating back to Old Valyria, and a scaled drawing of an old battleship that had sunk beneath the waves in war. Surely, this should be enough to sway her sentiments.

She couldn't deny how handsome he had come to be either. At almost seven and ten, he was dangerous, lithe and strapping, and despite the loss of his eye, regarded as one of the finest swordsmen and aggressive dragon riders of his age, yet he showed no interest in warfare or tourneys. His steed was Vhagar, an ineradicable power in the world, and he commanded her. It made his might unlike any other.

One bright morning, Aemma greeted the prince who said nothing but took her hand and hurried her to the dining table to present her with a withering brown scroll.

"I went through plenty of hardship to rob this for you, princess," he said, curling his lip.

Aemma received it gladly. The piece of scrap was nearly in shreds and moth-eaten. "Is this how you are to curse me; have me read an old hex and afflict myself?"

He rolled his eyes. "Ever so dour. Open and see."

She laughed at his impatience and pushed some plates aside to unfold the long paper. Before them was the incomplete map of a place a great many miles east of Essos called the Shadow Lands, a mostly uncharted mountainous territory with valleys and canyons, where it was written in fables that demons and dragons had originated.

Aemond held her index finger to drag it over the lines of high cliffs by the Jade Sea which was unfinished. "The explorer who lived to tell the tale has not gone that far. I have read about this place. The water glows green at night. The grass grows black. Ancient dragons lurk in the cliff caves."

"Horrifying. I love it."

"Maybe we'll see it all and finish this map together."

Aemma tilted her head up at him, warmed to her very core. He had given this gift great thought and admiration. He said every word like it'd been destined, spoken about so much that it was bound to happen.

She reached up to touch his cheek out of pure habit, her eyes deeply moved. "Soon, my friend. Adventure calls to me every day."

He leaned his head upon her touch to press a deep kiss to her palm. As always, Aemma came apart with a huff and returned her hand to her neck. She hadn't yet come to familiarize herself with his impulsive touches.

"How much longer are you going to keep this up, hm?" he grunted, sitting by her side. He crossed his legs over the table, clutching a few berries in his hand. He appeared as a champion in his prime, so unguarded and free before her.

He spoke with a blackberry between his teeth and punctuated the sentence with a chew. "Personally I'd like to hurry this along, and have you as my wife by the end of this moon."

Aemma shifted her gaze back to the map, leaving him unanswered. He was prone to haranguing her of this wedding constituent. It gave her a piercing headache.

"See, that," he cited with a light accusatory finger. "You evade me."

She made a derisive noise at the back of her throat. "I do not. If anything, it's the contrary. I outface you."

"Yet you call me 'your friend'?"

"You are my friend. What else am I to call you?"

"Lord husband? My love. Dearest, perhaps."

She glanced at him impassively.

Aemond bared a mischievous smirk and chucked her cheek with a knuckle. "'Tis but a jest. Here, eat something."

He bit into half a blackberry and offered her the other half. She gaped at it like it was a Gordian knot for her to solve before hesitantly accepting the half-eaten blackberry.

Aemond regarded this with a furtive smile, as she pushed the fruit between her lips. He wanted his own soldered against hers, discovering what she hid away beneath with his tongue. He couldn't look away, every look of her was worth eyeteeth.

These recent nights Aemma seemed to haunt his dreams, not in the way he was accustomed to. Before, it was innocent. Immature in the face of fantasies. Now, he would imagine kissing her breathless, opening her bodice, brushing at the peaks of her breasts, getting mouthfuls of her warmly perfumed skin, gathering her skirts, pressing his lips to the seam between her legs, tasting her shocking sweetness, pulling out moan after moan from those lovely lips—then he would wake up with a start, the sun in his eyes and pouring with sweat. It got more unendurable, more debased as the nights wore on. He wondered if she dreamed of him, all the same.

Quietly, Aemma allowed herself some bread and cheese, nibbling on a few almonds and berries while continuing to inspect the old map. The wildness of not knowing what awaited her, the scaling mountains, soaring on Vhagar... but her concentration staggered, her mind kept sidling toward Aemond who continued to silently wag his feet and watch her every movement with marked care. As if she were a plump goat for sale.

She suddenly threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Aemond!"

He bit the inside of his cheek in amusement, blinking at her.

"You just—" She rolled her lips into her teeth to suppress her words. It seemed so silly to indict him for simply observing her. She inhaled deeply, collecting her thoughts before nodding to herself. She rolled up the map carefully and set it aside.

Aemond, sensing her gravity, set his feet back on the floor and straightened his spine. Aemma dragged her chair closer, facing him head-on. She held on to his hand, stroking the veins over the bones, and exhaled her unease.

"Closer," she beckoned.

He immediately complied, his nose inches away from hers. "Closer?"

She threw a withering look at him before itching her scar again.

He drew in an obsessive, faint inhale, filling his lungs with heady lavender. Some parts of him approved of that perfume too much. He stirred a little.

"What if I told you," Aemma drawled out quietly and looked around the room as if she were talking of treason, "that this whole matrimony custom is... I mean, the sept, the odd vows, Septas, strangers—I don't care for it. It's not what I want."

He instantly understood and a conviction washed over in his eyes. "Fuck the Faith. I'll have you the right way; the Valyrian way."

"You don't mean that." She looked down at their hands, her voice ragged and strained. "It is not within the law. Your mother and grandsire would be delirious."

He stroked his lip, musing to himself. "Hmm, well. Fuck them, too."

"Aemond," she sighed.

"We are the blood of the dragon, merely exercising discretion in our ancestral ways. 'Tis perfect, Aemma."

She was still hesitant. "What if—"

"I'm not about to resign you over to some northern scum because you think some shallow tradition is shit." He squeezed down on her hand to get her to look at him. "Is that what has been troubling you? You expected me to deny you this?"

She nodded, grimacing. "Anybody would've denied me this. Taboo."

He unclenched his jaw, relaxing a little. Aemond believed his heart would distend and crack right through his ribs. That was all the princess wanted from him. In fact, it was all he wanted from her. Aemma wanted Aemond as himself, all to herself. An austere, indestructible bind. He longed for nothing more.

Beside him, Aemma held her head in a hand, two fingers easing an ache between her eyes. This seemed to occur often, Aemond noticed, possibly a symptom of her dire fall on Driftmark.

He dropped to his knees, brushing the hair from her face. He'd rather not have her hiding her face from him, he's gone without seeing it for too long.

"Shall I call for the maester?"

"It'll fade shortly," she tiredly waved him off, "it's these damn walls, suffocating me. I need some fresh air."

He leaned in to press his lips to the scar above her eyebrow. Aemma's hand fisted against his collar, inhaling sharply, and minutely bringing him closer.

"Come with me," he whispered against her skin, breathing in her maddening scent. "Let's go on a jaunt."

Arm-in-arm, the prince and princess crossed Maegor's Holdfast to make their way down to the courtyard. Aemond hailed for his horse only for Aemma to cut in and request one for herself. She had a sly wink for him when the soldier left to heed his orders.

"Like you could outrun me," he contested with a prideful smirk as he fluidly mounted his horse.

"Is that a challenge?"

Her smile twisted in defiance, resting her forehead against the horse's, forming a tender bond, prior to effortlessly bestriding it. It was no easy feat, so captivating, especially with all those layers of skirts. She took her reins and moved to the wide-open front gates.

The pair shared a conspiratorial glimpse before they took off down the streets and out the King's Landing gates with a starting cry to their horses.

Aemond was quicker having been tirelessly trained for this mastery all his life, no doubt, but he delighted in Aemma's melodic laughter when she overtook him. It was a mild game of tag until the open fields past the barriers of the castle, with no eyes to witness their amity but the blazing sun. They slowed to trot when Aemond noticed Aemma was winded and struggling to catch her breath.

"You're right, my friend," she panted out loud, pressuring her abdomen.

"Always," he said, smug.

"No." She sucked in a deep breath. "I meant your outrageous proposal that day."

He waited for her to finish, thrown for a loop.

"None of those lords can truly discern my ideals." She shrugged. "How could they? No time nor distance will allow me to assume a single thought that is not us or ours. You matter to me, Aemond, more than I can bear."

Aemond clenched his reins tighter to hide the tremble in his fingers. He stared at her for the longest moment, her words eventually clicking into place. The world could've exploded beneath his feet, but the only sound that echoed was hers. When he opened his mouth to respond, she had silenced him to cup his unscathed cheek.

"I can't offer anything but myself in this marriage," she whispered. "I will promise to stand behind you and fight for you as a knight, take your side as a dear friend, and never part from you henceforth. I would be honoured to call you my husband."

An expectant pause flitted between them.

He leaned closer to her to mutter, "Get off the horse."

Her brows arched, agitated. "Did you even—"

"Get off the fucking horse, Aemma."

Dazed, she carelessly dismounted and faced him halfway. The intensity of feeling from Aemond's stormy single eye cowed her, but it wasn't until his lips found hers, urging them apart, that she was heady from it, vying for more, crashing harder into him. He kissed her deeply, softly, wildly, stopping at nothing even as their breaths came out as restless gasps and he could not bring her any closer to him. He had been starved of her, haunted by her, and this would never be enough.

She pulled away first to find her calm, leaning her forehead against his mouth. "So that's what it feels like," she sighed, laughing quietly.

He continued to coast little kisses wherever he could; her scar, her eyes, her temple, her nose; unable to suppress the grin on his lips. If this was what kissing her felt like, he was going to make up for all the lost time pursuing a lot more of this.

"This very evening," Aemond said, his tone final.

Aemma steadied her unwavering gaze on him.

"Come sundown, we will fly together to Dragonstone where you'll wed me before the old gods of Valyria." He stroked a thumb down her lips. "You'll be mine. No one can stop us hereafter."

She closed her eyes, smiling. "I like that."

"Tonight," he assured. Not in urgency, but a surety.

you can read part iv here!

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 7 months ago

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Choices in Silence

Author's note: Catius's next chapter. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Past =-= Next

Warnings: A Bit of A Panick Attack From Ramiel, Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Catius gets back to base. Warns Cedric, and they split up to warn the rest of them. Catius doesn't realize that Hura's listening in to their panicked worry. He offers a solution; come to the Chaos Base and hide out there until Chaplain Captain Petras leaves. For it's likely the Chaplain Captain and his war band will visit the base for various reasons.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Catius had returned swiftly from the city back to the base, with only about half of the things that he was ordered to requisition from the base line human city.

He checked in and did the proper procedures to make sure that the items were in inventory and then headed in to check in with Captain Ash’val before being told to stay in the base.

He nodded and then practically ran towards where he knew Cedric was, his helmet off and eyes wide with fear as he warns Cedric about Chaplain Captain Petras being in the city. Again.

Cedric’s reaction is understandable, Catius catches the object that he had in his hands and informed his fellow Apothecary that he was going to inform the rest of the Primaris Marines that they knew of about his presence.

Cedric recovered with admirable swiftness and he says shakily, “I will tell Ramiel.”

“Okay, I’ll tell Jophiel and Claude then,” Catius says as he carefully sets down whatever finnicky Apothecary thing he’d caught as Cedric’s hands had shook and understandably grown clumsy with terror.

Cedric had been the one to find Ramiel as the other was murdered by his Mentor for the crime of being a Primaris Marine. There is much that they haven’t spoken of to their elder cousins and brothers from different Eras about what things are like in M42. Mostly because whatever they do tell them, seems to upset the lot of them. Catuis gently squeezes one of Cedric shoulders as he tugs the other in for a brief hug, gently tapping their foreheads together.

“Claude will have hiding spots in mind for us, whether we are all together or split up,” Catius said. “He… he’s with one of the Feral Warbands of Black Templars. They don’t tend to stay in base line cities in Ancient Terra for long. I... informed Captain Ash’val of- of… him and the danger he represents to you and Ramiel specifically.”

“He’s a threat to all Primaris,” Cedric points out quietly.

“Yeah,” Catius says with a nod, “But, per The Rules, if he goes after non-chapter loyalists for no good reason it will get him and his War Band into an amount of Trouble that he likely won’t want to deal with.”

“… He Challenged Lord Helbretch on his decision to allow us to live,” Cedric argues.

“And he suffered the consequences for it,” Catius pointed out with a hopeful ting to his voice.

What Catius did not notice when he’d bolted into the storage room that Cedric was in, was that another Apothecary had been with Cedric. An older Apothecary. A Chaos aligned one. Hura had paused in what he was doing when the Scout-ling Catius had burst into the room wild-eyed and spooked. Wondering if he or one of the others had found yet another wounded Primaris Scout-ling.

What he learned of, at least vaguely was about some Schism that happened within the Loyalists of The Black Templars. About a Loyalist Chaplain Captain who murdered a Loyal Scout-ling. One he specifically chose to train. Hura’s hands slowly clenched into fists. How wasteful! He’d met skittish young Ramiel, who was a quiet, and dutiful young man.

He’s quite frankly impressed that the youngster hadn’t decided to go ‘fuck it, I’m going Renegade or Chaos’ for such a betrayal. First Born brothers had done so for less. Apparently the psycho-indoctrination in M42 is far more advanced. Not that he’s surprised.

“He might come to this base,” Hura pipes up.

Both youngsters jump and whirl to face them, eyes wide. He stops himself from chuckling, youngsters occasionally forgot to check their surroundings when so upset. Which was fine, he’s honestly pleased that he didn’t register as A Threat, at least for the moment.

“As he’s a Loyalist, and even the Feral War Bands have to come to base occasionally when they are in the city for check ins on what they have seen, and medical checkups,” Hura says honestly. “Among other, various things.”

The way the Scout-lings curl in on themselves, recoiling in horror at the thought of that. The despair on their faces and mounting panic as they look at each other. Even if they do hide in this base. They have a higher likelihood to be found by him or his war band mates, simply by being in the same space.

“I have a proposal,” Hura continues, after pausing to see the impact his words are making, “You could come visit the Chaos Base in the city, for a while, once this… Petras leaves, you would be free to come and go as you please. Not that you wouldn’t before, of course.”

The Base Commander, among many other Chaos Marines had heard of Primaris Marines, but very few of them had actually ever seen, much less met a Primaris Marine. Also, he’d be stealing these adorable, competent youngsters from the Loyalists for a while.

“We will think on your offer, sir,” Catius says diplomatically. “It… your offer is appreciated?”

That sounded more like a question, but he nods generously to the youngster. It’s understandable, after all, they will have to decide, whether individually or as a group what they feel is safer. Stay in the Loyalist base where a known murderer of one of their Friends is coming. Or go to the Chaos Base, and all that entails to hide out in for a while.

“Let me know either way,” Hura says with a patient nod. “There are plenty of options. I know there is a Blood Angel and Lamenter base nearby that would be happy to take in Jophiel, and likely the rest of you as well, for a time at least.”

Catius and Cedric make complicated faces at that. Which Hura notices and tilts his head a little. Interesting reaction. Especially since young Jophiel is in Blood Angel armor, and has a very rare blessing for a Son of the Great Angel. His holy wings, and a Psyker’s power, well trained in Loyalist fashion.

“The Blood Angels do know about Jophiel… right?” Hura asks, brow furrowing.

The looks they give each other, and the suddenly placid masks on both of their faces. “What they do or don’t know isn’t something I’m aware of. Sir.”

Ah, that was from the young Ultramarine, in that smooth tone of bland nothingness. Which likely meant that no. Jophiel hasn’t reported into the Blood Angel and Lamenter base yet. Which is interesting since the youngster has been here for several months. That speaks of… something. Sons of the Great Angel, no matter the chapter tend to flock together and are quite a tight knight lot.

From what Hura knows of the Ninth Legion they are particularly protective of their Psykers, and of their brothers who have more of the Great Angel’s rarer traits. Perhaps the lad doesn’t want to be smothered for being the only winged one of his brothers in this hemisphere? Or does it imply something else about M42, something darker, and grimmer.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #ultramarines #ultramarine #space marine #space marine oc #oc: Catius

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thecrowroad · 17 days ago

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Trying to work out my Rook de Riva’s family history, and I’ve gotten distracted by Viago and the Antivan royal family. Who could possibly have predicted.

Previous king: King Natale. He was still ruling in 9:28. Natale had a lot of children - at least 11 legitimate enough to be in the direct line of succession, plus who knows how many bastards. Did not appear to cover himself in glory.

Known children of Natale:

Current king: King Fulgeno II. We don’t know many details about him, but he’s Viago’s father, so can be assumed to be at least in his 60s. Has been on the throne since at least 9:41. Does not appear to be covering himself in glory.

Prince Azrin and Princess Ferenna, who joined forces to work Azrin up from 11th in line for the throne to 4th through assassination of their inconvenient siblings/niblings - including possibly arranging/inducing Estefan’s assassination. Zevran was part of the mission to assassinate them both.

Prince Estefan: probably one of the older sons of Natale? Father of Rinna and apparently a lot of other bastards. His assassination for sleeping with married noblewomen was the one that was duplicated for Dante and Viago in 8 Little Talons.

Other descendants:

Rinna: was sent to the Crows, presumably on the same deal as Viago, at around about the same time. She was Zevran’s (and Taliesin’s) lover, and was assassinated by them as part of Crow Politics (ending the Rosso Noche faction that would have tried to put her forward as a legitimate successor to Natale, getting Eoman Arainai the seat of 8th Talon and reminding Zevran of his place in the House - the inciting incident for Zev taking the contract on the HoF. )

Did Viago know Rinna? They’ve got to be a similar age - was she competition? Is the aftermath of the Rosso Noche conspiracy/faction still a hinderance to his dreams of taking the throne? How unpleasant was it for him when his cousin’s ex/murderer came back as The Renegade and how much has it influenced his politics as a reformist Talon?

#Viago that is quite literally how your uncle & his lover died #Viago: yeah whatev. did you see that snake though? that’s a cool snake I’m keeping the snake #how does the economics of the Antivan royal family work?#it’s got to cost a hell of a lot of money to keep your legions of illegitimate children in luxury in a foreign country #how long before Josie asks Teia if there are any crows sufficient deft with a knife to do an involuntary vasectomy?#anyway I have decided:#my Rook de Riva is a cousin rather than a half-sister #her mother was a princess her father was dead shortly thereafter #she was sent to the circle and then sent to Viago after the circles fell #they were both absolutely delighted with this development.#viago de riva #dragon age the veilguard #antivan crows #zevran arainai

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natequarter · 2 months ago

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heartshaven's cousins got eaten by pigrats lungbarrow's cousins ate pigrats not sure what this means except that where renegades go weirdness follows them

#doctor who

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howlingaround · 3 months ago

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[ Faction Paradox ]

Very certainly not the first to notice but theres a sort of countdown (countup?) in the Book of the War, but I cant find half the numbers

Updated Version 3:

14 - ???

13 - Thirteen Day Republic

12 - ???

11 - Eleven Day Empire

10 - Ten escaped Familiar type timeships

9 - Nine Homeworlds

8 - Eighth Doctor as the Evil Renegade mentioned between the lines? Or the eight deleted entries unter the Enemys entry?

7 - NOT Seventh Head Prophecy (its not in BotW oops) ... so yeah i got nothin

6 - Sixth Wave Defection (see 8)

5 - Five Famous Space Battles

4 - Four "mutations" in the generation

3 - Cousin-Thrice-Removed Anastasia, being three times her own imposter

2 - Second War in Heaven?

1 - "One", President Umbaste and Investigator One

Its probably just coincidence, nothing to worry about ...

#Faction Paradox #Im sorry if someone else already made this observation and had a better conclusion to this but i didnt find anything on that #Theory Posting #Book of the War

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richincolor · 3 months ago

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We have several books on our radar for today. Check them out!

The Art Thieves by Andrea L. Rogers Levine Querido

Angel Wilson ([email protected]) Stevie Henry ([email protected]) Thanks for coming to see me; but by the time you read this, it will be too late. No one will have started to panic, yet; but in less than two months nothing will be the same. What came first, The Chicken or the Egg Flu? I wish it mattered. But let’s just say, maybe go back to wearing a mask, bathing in sanitizer, and avoid birds and eggs for a bit… I did not kill my brother. I did quite the opposite, really. It’s the year 2052. Stevie Henry is a Cherokee girl working at a museum in Texas, trying to save up enough money to go to college. The world around her is in a cycle of drought and superstorms, ice and fire … but people get by. But it’s about to get a whole lot worse. When a mysterious boy shows up at Stevie’s museum saying that he’s from the future -- and telling her what is to come -- she refuses to believe him. But soon she will have no choice. From the author of the Walter Award-winning Man Made Monsters comes a YA novel that conjures our futures in startling life – the ones that we are headed towards, and the ones we can still work towards.

The Dividing Sky by Jill Tew Joy Revolution

In 2460, eighteen-year-old Liv Newman dreams of a future beyond her lower-class life in the Metro. As a Proxy, she uses the neurochip in her brain to sell memories to wealthy clients. Maybe a few illegally, but money equals freedom. So when a customer offers her a ludicrous sum to go on an assignment in no-man’s-land, Liv accepts. Now she just has to survive. Rookie Forceman Adrian Rao believes in order over all. After discovering that a renegade Proxy’s shady dealings are messing with citizens’ brain chemistry, he vows to extinguish the threat. But when he tracks Liv down, there’s one problem: her memories are gone. Can Adrian bring himself to condemn her for crimes she doesn’t remember? As Liv and Adrian navigate the world beyond the Metro and their growing feelings for one another, they grapple with who they are, who they could be, and whether another way of living is possible.

Fledgling: The Keeper's Records of Revolution by S.K. Ali Kokila

The first book in a gripping duology from acclaimed author S.K. Ali introduces a fractured world on the brink of either enlightenment or war. Would you trade love for peace? Raisa of Upper Earth has only lived a life of privilege and acquiescence. Ever dutiful, she accepts her father’s arrangement of her marriage to Lein, Crown Prince of the corrupt, volatile lands of Lower Earth. Though Lein is a stranger, Raisa knows the wedding will unite their vastly different worlds in a pact of peace: an infusion of Upper Earth technology into Lower Earth will usher in the final age of enlightenment, ending war between humans forever. Or is justice more urgent? Newly released from imprisonment, Nada of Lower Earth has found her own calling: disrupting the royal wedding. Convinced her cousin Lein’s alliance with Upper Earth will launch an invasive, terrifying form of tyranny, Nada sets out undercover to light the spark of revolution. When Raisa goes missing a week before the wedding, all eyes turn to the rebels, including Nayf, Nada’s twin brother—a fugitive on the run. And when Nayf and Raisa meet, the long-simmering animosity they feel toward each other's worlds slowly burns away into something unexpected. But the Crown Prince wants his bride—and future—back. And he will go to the ends of the Earths to reclaim them.

If You're Not the One by Farah Rishi Quill Tree Books

This funny, electric rom-com follows a teen struggling to reclaim her perfect life and the perfectly wrong guy who sees through her facade, from the acclaimed author of It All Comes Back to You. Anisa Shirani is…well, perfect. A fact, not an opinion. Of course, it’s all a front to feed her own praise-obsessed ego. Behind closed doors, she is—some might say—a little slobbish and snobbish, and she works obsessively to maintain her God-given talents. Fate has favored her, but Ani knows better than anyone that fate is made by effort. But she must, especially when all signs point to her being a top-notch lawyer with a top-notch education and being destined to marry Isaac, total heartthrob and eldest son of the richest family in the community. A perfect girl deserves a perfect life, and Ani’s perfect life is going exactly the way it should… Until Ani’s parents announce they’re getting divorced. Until Isaac shows all the signs of…cheating. Sort of. Until she starts catching feelings for Marlow, an overly friendly weirdo she’s hated since the moment she laid eyes on him in class. How can fate be so wrong?

Of Blood and Lightning by Micki Janae Three Room Press

In the idyllic town of New River, North Dakota, 16-year-old Ophelia Johnson and six other teens inherit the powers of the old gods—Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Artemis, Apollo, and Ares—and embark on a mission from the Vessel of Destiny to find the missing Fates, restore the Codex, and save the ancient world. Still grieving the recent and mysterious death of her father, Ophelia begins to unravel the secrets woven into her family’s history as she and her friends plunge into the quest of a lifetime. Armed only with powers they don’t totally understand, Ophelia, Roman, Cassius, Olivia, Alessia, and Baxter are soon immersed in a mythical chess match upon which rests the fate of the universe. As they journey into a world of blood pacts and war, the diverse group members find more than they bargained for, and Ophelia discovers a family tie that might mean the ensuing chaos and destruction is her fault. Of Blood and Lightning is an upper YA contemporary fantasy (age 16-25) with a gripping and fresh twist on Greek mythology as the ancient pantheon of gods inhabit an ensemble of BIPOC and queer teenaged characters.

Only for the Holidays by Abiola Bello Soho Teen

City girl Tia Solanké is dreading the festive season. She and her boyfriend are on a break and the last thing she wants is to spend Christmas away from London. Dragged to Saiyan Hedge Farm by her mother, Tia takes an instant disliking to the countryside estate. She falls in horse manure, is chased by sheep and the Wi-Fi sucks. How can she stalk her ex and concoct a foolproof plan to win him back from here? Country boy Quincy Parker and his family run the farm, and this year they’ve been selected to host the biggest event in the town’s calendar—the Winter Ball. Preparations are underway, and Quincy is working around the clock to make it a success. The only problem is, he’s told everyone he has a date to the ball, when in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth. At first, Tia and Quincy don’t see eye to eye, until they realize they both have something to gain by pretending to be a couple. But when a snowstorm threatens to cancel the Winter Ball, their fake relationship is put to the test. Will Tia and Quincy be able to keep up appearances and save the day, or will real feelings get in the way?

Solis by Paola Mendoza & Abby Sher Nancy Paulsen Books

The year is 2033, and in this near-future America where undocumented people are forced into labor camps, life is bleak. Especially so for seventeen-year-old Rania, a Lebanese teenager from Chicago. When she and her mother were rounded up by the Deportation Force, they were given the brutal job of digging in the labor camp’s mine searching for the destructive and toxic, but potentially world-changing chemical, aqualinium. With this chemical the corrupt and xenophobic government of the New American Republic could actually control the weather—ending devastating droughts sweeping the planet due to climate change. If the government succeeds, other countries would be at their mercy. Solidifying this power comes at the expense of the undocumented immigrants forced to endure horrendous conditions to mine the chemical or used in cruel experiments to test it, leaving their bodies wracked in extreme pain to the point of death. As the experiments ramp up, things only get worse. Rania and her fellow prisoners decide to start a revolution; if they don’t, they know they will die. Told by four narrators—Rania, Jess (a former teenage Deportation Force officer), Vali, and Vali’s mother Liliana—Solis is about the courage and sacrifice it takes to stand and fight for freedom.

Twenty-Four Seconds From Now... by Jason Reynolds Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books

Twenty-four months ago: Neon gets chased by a dog all around the parking lot of a church. Not his finest moment. And definitely one he would have loved to forget if it weren’t for the dog’s owner: Aria. Dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail. Aria. Way more than fine. Twenty-four weeks ago: Neon’s dad insists on talking to him about tenderness and intimacy. Neon and Aria are definitely in love, and while they haven’t taken that next big step…yet, they’ve starting talking about…that. Twenty-four days ago: Neon’s mom finds her—gulp—bra in his room. Hey! No judging! Those hook thingies are complicated! So he’d figured he’d better practice, what with the big day only a month away. Twenty-four minutes ago: Neon leaves his shift at work at his dad’s bingo hall, making sure to bring some chicken tenders for Aria. They’re not candlelight and they definitely aren’t caviar, but they are her favorite. And right this second? Neon is locked in Aria’s bathroom, completely freaking out because twenty-four seconds from now he and Aria are about to…about to… Well, they won’t do anything if he can’t get out of his own head (all the advice, insecurities, and what ifs) and out of this bathroom!

Under All the Lights (When It All Syncs Up, #2) by Maya Ameyaw Annick Press

After one of his songs goes viral, Ollie Cheriet gets the opportunity of a lifetime: a cross-country tour, an album deal, and a chance to help his family with their financial struggles. The only problem? Ollie has major stage fright, a symptom of his anxiety disorder. As pressure from performing, social media rumors, and his romantic life rises, his mental health starts to spiral. So he’s surprised at how grounded he feels when he collaborates with his wildly talented—and distractingly cute—touring partner, Jesse. Music has always helped Ollie through hard times, but he’s going to have to be more vulnerable than he ever thought possible to find self-acceptance in the glow of the spotlight. Featuring characters from Maya Ameyaw’s acclaimed debut When It All Syncs Up, this story takes readers into the green room, immersing them in the vivid behind-the-scenes world of touring musicians.

#the art thieves #the dividing sky #fledgling #if you're not the one #of blood and lightning #only for the holidays #solis #twenty-four seconds from now #under all the lights #new releases #weneeddiversebooks

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sleepyfan-blog · 8 months ago

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I wonder what Cedric would do if he had to fostered to show him how this new world is or meets a fostered marine

Author’s Note: Thanks for the question!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams

Warnings: feelings of abandonment, ask me to tag

Being Fostered: I feel that Cedric would feel a mixture of Very Confused about why he’s being sent off go live with a random human for a little while, as well a mixture of deep inadequacy and being Very Upset at being sent away. He’d feel like he failed at being a Space Marine badly enough that he was being sent away from his older brothers and cousins to go live with a human for reasons that would make little to no sense to him.

Not that he would say any of this. Primaris marines were created to be more obedient in addition to being physically stronger, larger and resilient than first born marines. Cedric would endlessly stress internally about what sort of test he had failed to be sent away, which would manifest outwardly as a curious mix of absolutely obeying any order - perceived or otherwise - that the mortal he was put under the care of by his older brothers and hiding from said mortal when he gets overwhelmed or his emotions get the better of him.

Unless it was made very clear to him that the fostering was not a punishment, not a demotion of some kind for a failure on his part, or something along those lines, that is exactly what Cedric would see it as. Also, any trust that the older brothers/cousins had built up with him is pretty much gone completely. He’s being sent off because they feel that he isn’t worthy of being a marine…

As for what his reaction to seeing another marine being fostered, it depends on whether or not they’re a Loyalist, Renegade or Chaos marine.

For any foster, he’d mostly be very confused as to why the Ultramarines had decided that this sort of thing is necessary. What is it for? Why do these fosterings make these “Feral” marines seem less dangerous? What is the difference between them and a “Feral” marine? I’m not sure if he would ask any of these questions, as again, the primaris Obedience thing was probably at least partially beaten into them by the Mechanicus and I could definitely see asking questions as being seen as one thing to be punished because how dare you question my orders. Which is something I could also see being a thing among Black Templars too.

But his outward reaction to a feral loyalist marine being fostered and bossed around by a baseline human (not even a Commissar or of the Astra Militarum. What??) is mild confusion and curiosity.

For a renegade marine, he’d be wary about interacting with this traitor - but since this traitor isn’t Chaos, he won’t do much more then glower in their direction and wait for signs of duplicity or them trying to start shit. Then he will steal the human away to safety before attacc-ing to get the squishy human out of harm’s way. For a chaos marine? Whoooo boy. Given that he’s been scolded for being rude to Chaos Marines in the past, Cedric won’t start anything… But he is deeply suspicious of Chaotic Traitors and will be suspicious of the adult mortals who willingly spend time around them for prolonged periods of time, because Chaos Corruption is something that can be spread to other people (Like a disease) and why the fuck are they doing this? What could they possibly be getting out of this? CSMs are so dangerous! >:( this world makes no Emperor-damned sense.

#oc: cedric #my writing #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #Older Brother: You're being fostered to help understand this world #Cedric internally: I Have Failed At Being A Space Marine And Have Brought Shame Upon Myself And My Chapter #Cedric out loud: Yes sir #cw: feelings of abandonment

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squawkshowencore · 7 days ago

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*PJ MASKS OC* ~ Romeo’s cousin

Name: Juliet Arsenault (‘Arsenault’ is a French surname relating to guns)

Gender: Female

MBTI type: INTJ (complements with Romeo being an ENTP)

Appearance: White hair with a black streak, Wears a teal scarf, Wears sharpshooter glasses and noise reduction headphones, Has cyan coloured eyes, Long sleeved dark bodysuit and slim-fit trousers

Powers: Clairvoyance and Error Manipulation, Ability to have 100% aim accuracy by reducing errors (helps Romeo with aiming his gadgets)

Personality/Role: She only interferes when she needs to. Neutral about the Pj Masks & Power Heroes. Likes to dote on Romeo (since she is the older cousin). Thinks small children/babies are slightly annoying. Despite her robotic demeanor, she can be gentle around people she is familiar with.

Theme song (imagine her shooting enemies with this playing lol):

#pj masks romeo #pj masks #pj masks oc #original character #oc #Spotify

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hoeneymilktea · 27 days ago

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deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 4 | renegade nights

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 9.6k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

ramen & racing ⇠ renegade nights ⇢ rescuing sly fox

✧ chapter specific content warnings: explicit sexual content, dark themes, degradation, choking, slapping, foreplay, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, lots of dirty talk per usual, a little dubious but very much consensual, everything done here is created with sexual tension please for the love of god, it's lowkey argument sex but lol, goddamn i didn't realize i was the one who wrote this like daaaaamn this shit is nastyyyyy lol

The temperature of the condo decreased as the silence grew, both you and Leia staring at each other with guilt for one another. You felt ashamed for eavesdropping on their conversation while Leia felt disappointed in herself for exposing the news so suddenly. Regardless, none of you were at fault as the situation came unexpectedly with no time to prepare.

Your fingers started to tremble while your body felt like it was sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Leia paced in front of the window wall anxiously, scratching the back of her head while thinking of ways to explain the situation. Drugs were one thing, but murder was on an entirely different tier of morality—how was she supposed to justify it?

"I'll keep quiet," you murmured out, backing into the corner of the couch. "If you're worried about me going to the police, you don't have to—"

Leia abruptly called your name out, startling you for a bit. She raised her hands up in front of herself, reassuring the situation. "Relax, relax. We're not going to do anything to you."

She stared straight into your eyes and eased her hands down to the couch, touching the cushion before sitting down close to your body. Your heart pounded louder in your chest, unable to clearly hear her attempts to calm you down. In an instant, she grasped both of your hands in between hers, leaning forward into your face.

"I just need you to stay calm," she softly spoke, her silhouette shadowed in the neon lights outside. "Tooru may or may not tell you about what happened, so if he does, don't mention that you heard the news from me."

Her voice was solemn and straight-forward, dealing with the situation in extreme caution while you avoided making eye contact with her. You tried your best to remain calm while you nodded your head in agreement, still slightly shaken by the news.

Suddenly, you both heard two engines roar into the night—the sound of the cars were distinct with a high pitched rotation, knowing exactly it was Oikawa and Kuroo behind the wheels.

You were unable to make a clear judgement in the moment—the first night you met Oikawa, he seemed genuine, showing a side of himself you did not expect someone like him would show. He was honest, gentle and vulnerable with not only you, but with himself as well. Yet tonight, it seemed like he was the complete opposite, not sure if what you perceived him to be earlier was true.

Leia immediately stood up and walked over to the window, peering down at the street filled with vehicles and pedestrians. The familiar white and red cars accelerated loudly beneath the building, their engines echoing up to where you both were.

"They're here. I just saw them pull in." Leia quickly sat back on the couch, acting as nothing happened within the past five minutes.

You sat still in your seat, patiently waiting for what was to come next. It was difficult to think about ways to avoid mentioning the situation to Oikawa without including how you obtained the information, unsure if you should even bring it up in the first place. You thought if it was even worth staying in his condo after learning what he did, wondering if you should just leave the premises instead.

"Leia, I—"

Click Click.

You both whipped your heads around when the door lock went off from behind the couch, interrupting your attempt to converse with Leia one last time.

Your eyes shifted towards the door swinging open while Oikawa stepped in first, covered in scratches, blood stains and dirt scuffs. Punctures, gashes and bloodstains were made into his white t-shirt while his black jeans were defiled and dripping with dirt and dark splashes of a wet substance. His knuckles were bruised and battered while he gripped his hand into a fist, the red marks of his wounds bulging from his skin.

Kuroo was no different—a large mark slashed across his face was covered by a single bandaid with a large bruise on his right arm, purple to the surface. His tank top was severely damaged with slits lacerated into his chest, dried blood and scabs contributing to his injuries.

"Leia, let's go." Kuroo commanded in a calm yet intimidating tone, visibly exhausted from their emergency.

She did not fight his request, simply rising up from the couch and making her way over. Leia nodded before she shot you a concerning stare, waving goodbye in the process.

"I'll text you," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest while she walked backwards. "Keep in mind what I told you about."

When she stepped out of his condo and into the corridor, Kuroo clasped his right palm against Oikawa's before patting each other on the back with the other hand to wish another goodbye. They left the condo quickly while Oikawa closed the door behind them, slowing down his movements before walking towards you.

You didn't say a word to him, much less look at him while he walked over to the kitchen to wash his hands. The tension was apparent; he could sense you were on edge. Oikawa slowly walked over to where you were sitting, hands in his pockets to hide his bruised knuckles.

He called your name softly behind the couch, grabbing your attention. You turned around and instantly looked up to make eye contact with him, noticing a dreadful look on his face. His brown eyes were usually vibrant and saturated in color, but when you looked up into them, they seemed dull and dark, almost greyish in tone. His posture was slumped slightly with his front bangs slicked back to reveal the multiple bruises scattered on his jaw.

"What happened? Are you okay?" You asked, quickly getting up from the couch.

Oikawa did not respond, instead he continued to stare at you with a blank expression, standstill in his posture. He pursed his lips and pulled his right hand out of his pocket, bending over to pick your hand up.

In the corner of your eye, you saw his swollen and contused knuckles, red in color while slowly recovering from the injuries. His hands were cold and shivering when he touched you, desperately trying to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"What happened to you, Tooru?" You looked up at him one more time, inspecting his hands all over. They were normally soft, but when you turned his palms to face up at the ceiling, they were rough and calloused.

He didn't answer again and closed his eyes with a despondent frown, telling everything you needed to know about how he was feeling at the moment.

"Can you tell me what happened?" You repeated one more time with your eyebrows pinched, growing irritated at the neglect of your questions.

"It's best if you didn't know." Oikawa lowered his head as you watched his bangs fall down.

"Can I at least help you clean your wounds, then?" You hovered your hand over several purple bruises and cuts on his arms, inspecting if any of them were infected. Oikawa instantly retracted his arm back from you, sitting down on the couch.

"I can handle them myself." He responded in a deep and irritated tone, obvious that he was not feeling well.

Certain social cues from Oikawa made his point clear to you. His condo fell silent as you did not say anything back, rather standing still in front of him resting on the couch. Your hands fidgeted uncomfortably, looking around the living room to buy yourself some time to process the moment. He pulled out his phone and started to scroll through on it, not saying a word as well.

You thought about Leia's advice, staying calm with him and not mentioning the call with DK earlier. It seemed apparent that he wasn't going to say anything, acknowledging that any action you could do would upset him. Instead, you decided to collect all of your things from the coffee table and walk towards the front of his door, slipping your shoes back on.

Oikawa heard you take off his bomber jacket and place it on the coat stand before unlocking the front door, opening it slightly. He quickly turned around with a saddened frown on his face, gripping the back of the couch cushions.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you responded, halfway headed out the door. Your cell was in your hand with Iwaizumi's speed-dial open, ready to call. You pressed his number on the screen, placing the phone up to your ear. "It seems like you'd rather be left alone. Don't worry about dropping me off, I'll call Hajime to come pick me up. I'll see you soon, Tooru."

"No," Oikawa jolted up from the couch and ran to the front door, grabbing your hand quickly to pull you back in. You looked at him with the dial tone ringing in your ears, a blank stare resting on your face.

His fingers held yours so delicately, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles while his eyes filled with sorrow, upset that you decided to leave on your own. "I want you to stay."

You pursed your lips, moving them to the left side of your face. It was in Oikawa's favor that Iwaizumi did not pick up his phone, letting his voicemail inbox ring in your ears. You pulled your hand out of his grip to quickly text Iwaizumi a false alarm, letting him know to ignore your call.

You calmly stepped back inside, putting your phone back into your pocket without making eye contact with him. Oikawa placed his hand on the handle of the door and closed it quietly, locking it in place while you took off your shoes again.

"I'm only staying if you tell me what happened to you." You calmly mentioned, setting down your shoes by the door.

"I can't do that, I'm sorry." Oikawa quietly responded, his voice sounding upset like he was about to cry.

You stared at him again without an expression on your face, his whole condo dark and quiet without any light besides the lit candle on the table and the blue neon signs outside the window. Oikawa's eyes were half open with his hair messed up, dried blood still scattered on his t-shirt. He tried to reach his hand out to stroke your cheek, but you shrugged off his attempt.

"Tooru, I don't want to worry all night about why there's blood on your shirt and gashes across your chest while I'm staying here at your place. The least you could do is tell me what happened." You tightened your fist and gritted the back of your teeth, sighing right after.

Yet again, perpetual silence clouded the atmosphere. It almost pained Oikawa to admit why he didn't to tell you the truth, but he knew you deserved to know. Under his breath in the quietest volume possible, he whispered, mustering out all the strength within him.

"I'm afraid if I tell you what happened, you'll think of me differently."

"Why would you assume that?"

"Because I really like you," Oikawa's voice deepened as he tried to reach his hand out to you again, placing his fingers on the side of your cheek. "And I don't want you to hate me."

They said one's eyes are the windows to the soul, yet when you stared deep into Oikawa's, there was nothing there for you to look at. His pupils were pitch black, despite the iridescent lights outside the windows reflecting on his body. With one closer look, you saw your reflection in his eyes, brushed away by his eyelashes blinking after.

"Look, I understand you're afraid to tell me, but I don't like it when secrets are kept, regardless of who you are. I value honesty, and I'm not willing to compromise on that. I know what I deserve, and if you aren't going to be honest with me, I'm just gonna leave."

You raised your voice with an irritated tone, holding onto all of your belongings. Oikawa stopped making eye contact with you, looking down at his feet instead. You waited patiently for a response, but as several seconds of silence passed by without him saying a word, you scoffed and slid your shoes on your feet.

You pushed Oikawa aside, unlocking the door and opening it slightly. Just as you were about to head out, you looked over your shoulder back at him, meeting with his melancholic eyes once again. "I'll be going, Tooru. See you later."

"Wait," Oikawa interrupted, grabbing your wrist.

"I got in a fight with another racer from the Inarizaki Bois. He tried to steal some of our car parts from the tune shop." Oikawa lied, holding tighter to your wrist. "That's why DK and I had to go deal with it. Don't worry about it anymore."

You didn't respond right away, processing his explanation. If you hadn't known the truth, it could have been a believable alibi—yet you knew better, and the fact Oikawa had lied so easily upset you even more than it should have. You closed your eyes and yanked your hand away from Oikawa, not wanting him to touch you anymore.

"Bullshit," you scoffed, shaking your head in absolute disappointment. "I can't believe you just lied straight to my face."

Oikawa stopped breathing for a second, standing still in place. His heart raced faster and faster, knowing you caught him in a lie. "I...I mean—"

"The Nohebi clan," you interrupted him, closing the door behind you. Once the locks clicked, you whispered in a stern tone while keeping distance from him. "You killed all of them. You killed all them and lied straight to my face about it."

Oikawa's eyes grew wide, shocked by your accusation. "H-How, how—?"

"I can see why you guys call DK a loudmouth, because he sure does have one."

You dropped your shoes back on the floor once more and pushed Oikawa out of your direction, making your way over to the other side of his condo, creating distance between you both. You took your phone out and began to text Iwaizumi again, asking if he could pick you up.

"Why did you keep asking me about what happened if you already knew? Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" Oikawa began to walk towards you with a frown on his lips and irritation in his voice.

You looked up from your phone with another expressionless look on your face, noticing he was becoming more aggravated. You could see the frustration and anger in his eyes—although, two sides of the same coin, there was a flush of sorrow and guilt as well.

"I wanted to hear the news directly from you." Your voice remained calm, despite your anger intensifying. "I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself. Instead, you decided to lie to me."

The cuts on his skin were fresh and stinging, bringing Oikawa to walk over to the kitchen to run his arm under cold water. He opened a free drawer that contained a first aid kit, removing a gauze and some disinfectant from the container for his wounds. Reaching both of his hands behind his neck, he grabbed the back collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing multiple cuts and bruises on his arms and chest.

"I understand you wanted to know, but it really doesn't involve you." His eyebrows pinched close together, exaggerating the agitated look in his eyes that he didn't even try to mask. He took a towel and ran it under cold water before beginning to wrap his cuts with the gauze, securing it with a bandage.

"Tooru, it involves me one-hundred-percent. You're Hajime's boss, if you end up dragging him along in your business, I'm going to have to deal with the consequences as well." You placed your phone down on the dining table with the half written text message to Iwaizumi left unsent.

Oikawa emerged from the kitchen in just his black jeans and a bandage across his arm, walking towards you. His skin was damp from the wet towel he used to clean the cuts on his chest, swiping his right hand across to flick some water off his body.

He grabbed the pistol resting on the side of his hip and dropped it on the dining table right next to the candle you lit earlier. The rattle from the glass echoed throughout his condo with a long silence followed thereafter. Oikawa looked down at the candle, watching the flame dance between the wick and the oil.

"Then I'll make sure that doesn't happen," Oikawa raised his voice, his eyes still fixated on his hand resting on his pistol. "The less involved, the better the situation will be handled. This is why I didn't want you to know."

He continued to look down at his hands leaning on the table, unable to make eye contact. You took a few steps closer to him, placing your left hand on his right shoulder, watching him flinch slightly as you touched his skin.

"I understand and trust you to make sure it doesn't happen, It's just... did you not trust me enough to keep it a secret?"

Oikawa didn't say a word and kept his head lowered, the wispy bangs on his forehead hanging down below as it covered both of his eyes.

"Tooru, do you trust me?"

Once again, silence fell through the darkened room without a response from him. Oikawa stood up straight and placed both of his hands inside his pockets, turning his body to face you with a dark and gloomy aura surrounding his presence. Your heart pounded through your chest as you looked up into his gaze—his pupils constricted as his eyes enlarged to the point they looked like they were about to pop out of his face.

He took a step closer to you; one at a time with one foot in front of the other. Soft patters and shuffles on the wooden oak floor echoed within the condo until your back slowly pressed up against the wall near the dining table. Oikawa lifted his head up with an expressionless look on his face, feeling his breath tickle on the side of your cheek.

You gazed into his eyes, watching the corners of his mouth quiver, shaded by the hesitated breath he took before staring back at you too. Your bodies were centimeters away from each other, reaching out to rest your fingers on his right bicep covered in a layer of gauze. He winced before relaxing his arm, placing his right hand on the wall above your head with his other situated at the crook of your neck.

While looking at your reflection in his pupils, he lowered his head to kiss you, only to be immediately stopped by your hand pressing up against his chest. His skin was cold to the touch while your fingers trailed down his body, careful to not touch his cuts. While dropping your eyelids, you gazed deep into his eyes and repeated your question one more time, whispering it near his lips.

"Do you trust me?"

"Not yet."

His fingers traced up your neck, slowly brushing against your skin before lightly tilting your chin up with his index finger. His lips hovered over yours, feeling tickles of his breath over your face. He gently moved your head to the right in order to expose the left side of your neck, burying himself in between your collarbone and jaw, planting kisses all over in between.

Oikawa tightened his grip around your throat before immediately smashing his lips onto yours, roughly pushing your head up against the wall. Every time your lips parted for a small breath of air, he would shove his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to taste the dull metal of his tongue piercing as it grazed against your teeth.

He pulled his lips away from yours to plant kisses on your jaw again before he placed his left thumb into your mouth, letting you delicately suck on it while your tongue pressed against the tip of his digit. You felt him drag his thumb against your lip, pulling it down to expose your bottom teeth. He peered at you with his eyes half open, exhaling softly through his mouth.

"Do you trust me?" Oikawa whispered softly against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I wish I didn't."

His lips touched yours again, slowly and sensually kissing his way down your jaw, neck and collarbone. Tracing his way back up, he roughly kissed your lips one more, moving your head to the side while he cradled your face. Your hands wandered up his chest and around the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers through his hair as he pressed your body up against the wall.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he slid his hand up your top to grasp your right breast, kneading and pinching right through your bra. You roughly took off your clothes one by one, leaving yourself only in your underwear while Oikawa gripped his hand around your throat again, pressing the back of your head against the wall.

You inhaled deeply through your nose as his fingers remained around the sides of your neck, staring intently into his eyes. Your body felt hot against Oikawa's while you both remained still, only the quiet exhales of his breaths on your face could be heard. When you looked down at him with a smirk, you softly spoke a request, knowing exactly what was to come next between you both.

"Go rough this time, I want to feel something different."

Within that second, Oikawa smashed his lips on yours once again with a quiet chuckle under his breath. "As you wish."

His hands wandered throughout your body again—kissing down your lips, neck and chest—all before trailing his tongue down your stomach and crouching his head in between your thighs. He hooked his fingers against the thin elastic of your underwear, pulling them down to spread your legs apart.

He slipped the fabric off your legs as it dangled on your toes, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs, leaving multiple marks on your skin during the process. The pain felt pleasurable, watching him lick and bite all over your thighs made you ache for more, stroking back his brown hair behind his ears.

Sooner or later, he made his way back in between your legs, making sure to bite, kiss and mark every inch of you before starting. The bottom of his tongue piercing touched your skin while Oikawa lifted your left leg up, curling and digging his fingers deeper into your flesh. You moaned as his tongue pressed against you, feeling the tip enter through your pussy in search of your clit.

"Tooru, oh my god," you whispered, gasping for air. Your whole body felt hot while he spread your legs further apart, letting you rest your weight against the wall. All you saw was Oikawa's head buried in between your legs when his tongue flicked at your clit, purposefully pressing his tongue piercing against it.

"Keep still." Oikawa mumbled in between your legs as you ran your fingers through his brown locks. You pushed his bangs back, exposing the view of his face—his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips sucking voraciously on your clit.

Oikawa knew exactly how to pleasure your body as he has done before, except for this time, keeping in mind your request to be rougher. He rolled your clit in between his tongue and the front of his teeth, making your eyes move to the back of your skull, breathing deeply into your lungs while your head pressed against the wall. His lips suctioned around your clit again before licking up any essence dripping down his tongue, feeling your legs tremble while his hands held your body still.

You felt a sharp temperature change deep inside of your core when Oikawa slipped in two fingers, cold as ice, pumping them slowly but surely into you. The tips of his long fingers hit deep into you when he quickly thrusted in and out, feeling yourself clench around him while grabbing the back of his head. Staggered exhales escaped from your mouth while you closed your eyes, feeling him swirl the tip of his tongue around you simultaneously.

"Please, please—fuck!" You interrupted yourself, feeling him roughly suck on your clit again, sending mixed signals of pleasure and pain up to your brain.

His name escaped your lips as you moaned out in pleasure, leaning over to feel your core build up pressure. Oikawa continued to pump his fingers inside of you, gasping for air in between your legs while you rocked your hips back and forth. He guided your body to release, holding you down while the blood rushed to the surface of your skin.

His tongue slowly and sensually explored around your pussy as his fingers plunged deep inside of you, gently scraping the tips of fingers against your g-spot continuously. The feeling kept driving you over the edge, holding on tighter to the back of Oikawa's hair. He moaned in between your legs, quickly giving you a slap to your ass while digging his fingers deeper and deeper into your skin.

With your right leg still on the floor, your toes raised higher and higher until you slammed your hand onto the dining table. The rattle of the glass lit candle and Oikawa's pistol startled you, feeling your heart race faster and faster. A whimper erupted from your throat as you bit your lip and closed your eyes, sliding your head down on the wall.

Your eyes began to water in the corners of your eyes, pleasure overwhelming your body entirely from every one of his touches. No one had ever pleasured you the way Oikawa did— and he wasn't even inside of you yet.

"Fuck, Tooru!" Your head pressed back up into the wall again, closing your eyes shut to moan at the top of your lungs, feeling yourself come all over his fingers.

"Mmm, ahaha." Oikawa lightly chuckled between your legs, feeling the deep vibration of his hum. You kept coming into his mouth, feeling every ounce of yourself drip down your thighs. Oikawa quickened the pace of his thrusts, repeatedly hitting his fingers in a come-hither motion, wringing out the last bit of your essence onto his tongue.

Watching you come aroused Oikawa to the fullest; having you scream his name and squirt from his manipulation caused the bulge in his pants to grow tighter. Every time your thighs closed in on his face while your hands ran through his hair, he couldn't get enough of you, craving every bit of your reactions of pleasure.

You bucked your hips upward and locked your fingers in his hair, hearing your moans echo into the room. He groaned into you again, pushing his fingers deep inside your pussy while his bruised knuckles hit against your thighs. With every thrust, there was a quick pause—and with that, you rode out your first orgasm of the night.

He removed both himself and his fingers from your pussy, releasing a satiated exhale with a pop from his mouth. Your legs continued to tremble, knocking the edge of your knees against each other as Oikawa placed his hands directly on your waist to hold you still. He slowly crouched back up, sliding his hands up your chest to cup your right breast before instantly shoving his wet fingers down your mouth.

"That's right, suck them nice and slow. Good girl," Oikawa reassured, cupping the side of your face as his thumb gently stroked your cheek. "Keep doing that."

You choked and coughed when you felt the pads of his fingertips graze against the back of your throat, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Once he removed them from your mouth, Oikawa placed the same two fingers on his tongue, wrapping his lips around to savor every last bit of your taste.

His eyes became dark, feeling the mood of the atmosphere grow lascivious and carnal between you two. Your skin felt hot and sweltered, regardless of the cold temperature of his condo. Wandering hands grazed up and down bodies while murmurs of silent prayers escaped through lips to satisfy the soul. Oikawa knew exactly what to do to your body—and nothing aroused him more than to see you crumble in his arms, entirely defeated from his touch.

As you caught your breath, Oikawa reached behind your back and pulled your head down, forcing your eyes to stare at the ceiling. Tilting your head to the side, he buried his head into your neck, biting into your shoulder and tasting the sweat of your skin. A hesitated moan from your lips softly echoed into his ears, feeling his dick grind against your thighs.

Your clothes scattered the wooden floors, most of them thrown near the couch, only a few feet over. His aggressive touching and rough biting were elements of his dominant behavior, only fulfilling what you requested from him. Oikawa's hands were always wrapped around the base of your neck, his fingers slightly pinching the sides of your throat.

One action led to another, footsteps moving from the wall to the floor, bodies thrown onto the couch. The cold leather touch shocked you both awake, goosebumps raising on the surface of your skin. Kissing, touching, and moaning continued while hands grasped at the cushions, the night sky and neon lights illuminating from outside.

Oikawa pulled himself away and off your body, standing up from the couch. He towered over you like a building, blood from the cuts on his arm soaking through the gauze wrapped around his bicep. The chain around his neck misaligned, sticking to his chest while he took a deep breath, staring at your naked body down below.

You gazed back up at his body blocking the moonlight from the window wall, slowly sitting up straight. While he began to unbuckle his jeans, you watched his muscles flex, focusing your attention on the traditional Japanese dragon tattoo on his right arm and the sakura flowers floating atop waves of water on his left. He was the epitome of everything you found attractive in a man—tall, slim, muscular and decorated with tattoos.

His jeans and underwear dropped to the floor, slowly slipping one leg out at a time. Oikawa was left naked in his living room just like you; making his way to hover over your body, quickly kissing your lips once more. He wrapped his right hand around the base of his dick, slowly pumping himself up and down before he grabbed the back of your head and forced you close to his hips.

"It's your turn to pleasure me." His voice became deep and demanding, still holding your head in place. "Suck it."

"That's what I'm gonna fucking do," you retorted, placing your right hand on his adonis belt and your left hand on the base of his shaft, slowly pumping it up and down.

"Then hurry up. I'm not going to repeat myself." Oikawa commanded as he collected your hair into his grip, pulling it back when you placed your tongue on the tip of his cock. Gradually, you began to bob your head back and forth, letting your saliva trail all over him.

Oikawa exhaled a staggered groan when he felt your tongue swirl under the head of his dick, flicking it repeatedly from side to side. You kissed the tip quickly before wrapping your lips around it, feeling his shaft fill up your whole mouth, letting it reached the back of your throat.

You closed your eyes, moving both your hand and lips along to a rhythm inside your head. Oikawa watched you from above, absolutely mesmerized by his dick going in and out of your mouth quickly, assisted by your wrists twisting and turning. He let out an apprehended moan, unwilling to admit he was left vulnerable at your disposal.

His quiet grunts of pleasure started to accumulate in the empty room accompanied by the voracious sound of your lips sucking on his dick. He was big; filling up the entirety of your mouth every time his hips thrusted forward. Oikawa cradled the side of your cheek, sliding his left hand right under your ear, holding the back of your head tightly.

"Mmm, fuck yeah." Oikawa moaned, sharply inhaling when the tip of your tongue grazed against the head of his dick. "Suck my cock like the little slut you are."

He started moving his hips forward while he placed both of his hands behind your head, continually slamming himself inside of your mouth as tears rolled down your face. You looked up at him when your eyes became blurry, only the moonlight and his dark silhouette filling up your field of vision. Oikawa pulled his dick out of your mouth, slapping your face with the back of his hand.

"No crying. Take it like a good girl, understand?"

The sting on your cheek started to subside, completely compensated with the rush of adrenaline inside your body. You furrowed your eyebrows up at him, giving a slight head nod before he menacingly smirked down at you, aroused by the sight of your tears dripping down your eyes.

"I understand."

He gripped your cheeks, pinching your cheeks close together before he leaned down close to your ear.

"I'm going to make you beg for me to fuck you." His ominous threat left you shocked as he let go of your cheeks and grabbed the base of his shaft, slapping your tear-stained cheek with his dick. "Open up, baby. Say ahh."

You stuck your tongue out only for him to shove himself back into your mouth, the tip of his dick touching the back of your throat once more. The force of his hips lunging forward caused you to gag, forcing a cough out when your lips touched the base of his shaft. When he pulled out immediately, you gasped for air, coughing out any irritation in your throat as he stroked the side of your cheek, propping his index finger underneath your chin.

"Aw, my poor baby. Can't handle it? Hmm?" He teased, looking down at you with a mischievous smile. You looked him in the eyes as he tapped your cheek twice with two fingers, insinuating a warning before he slapped you across the face. "Too fucking bad."

The sting on your cheek felt refreshing, reshaping any sense of pain into pleasure. Degradation from Oikawa aroused you more than ever, feeling yourself yearn for something that was lacking in your life. It was transformative, sensual and ravenous—something you craved to feel.

He grabbed the base of his shaft and smacked your cheek with his dick, shoving it in your mouth once you willingly stuck your tongue out. Oikawa grasped the top of your throat with his right hand while you sucked his dick again, pinching the sides of your neck and digging his nails into your skin.

"Finally being a good girl now, hmm?" Oikawa's eyebrows raised but kept his eyelids drooped as he smirked down at your face, thrusting his dick repeatedly into your mouth. "Why, do you want me to fuck you?"

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, to which he wiped away the tears on your cheeks with his thumb.

"I want to hear you say it then."

Oikawa pulled out his cock from your mouth before you gasped for air, leaving a small trail of saliva connecting your bottom lip and the tip of his dick. He let go of his grip on your throat and caressed your face with the same hand, swiping his thumb on your soft skin. Your eyes began to sting when you looked up at him, watching his face contort into a wicked grin, shoving his thumb into your mouth.

"Fuck me, please." You mumbled, your voice obstructed from the tip of his thumb grazing over your lips.

"Good girl. Lay on your back and spread your legs open for me." He chuckled ominously, pushing your shoulder down onto the couch.

You did as you were told, laying on your back to spread open your thighs. The tears in your eyes were quickly wiped off with the back of your hand, watching Oikawa crawl onto the couch and place both of his knees onto the couch, straddling over your figure. He stroked his dick up and down with his right hand before grabbing onto the armrest of the couch above your head.

He leaned down, placing a sensual kiss on your lips. "I'm not going to be gentle."

"I never wanted you to be."

You wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck, moaning into his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock graze your pussy, sliding into you with ease. He filled you up instantly, feeling yourself becoming tighter and tighter as he pushed his way in deeper and deeper. Oikawa placed his left hand on your right breast and kneaded your nipple against his thumb, pressing down and pinching it slightly against his index finger.

You felt his hot breath against your mouth as he kissed your lips, feeling his tongue piercing graze against your teeth. Moaning into his mouth, you instinctively bucked your hips into his.

"Excited now, are we?" He teased in a brash tone, inhaling deeply as he began to move his hips slowly.

"Shut up and fuck me already," you whispered into his ears, placing your index finger on his lips.

You didn't have to tell him twice as he started to thrust into you faster, sliding his dick out entirely before forcefully shoving himself back in. He grabbed onto your shoulders, pulling your body against his while he fucked you roughly. You felt him move in and out of your pussy effortlessly, entirely lubricated by your slick.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Oikawa groaned as he continuously pumped his dick inside of you, the tip of his head kissing your cervix with every thrust. "Your pussy feels so fucking good."

You placed your feet up onto his shoulders before he grabbed onto your ankles, looking down at your body moving synchronously to his own rhythm. He was mesmerized by your breasts bouncing up and down every time his hips collided with yours, feeling his dick sink deeper into you. Oikawa's quiet grunts in your ear drowned out the pulsation of your heart throughout your body, overwhelmed by the motions of his thrusts.

"You're taking my dick so well like a good little slut," Oikawa harshly spoke through his teeth with a low guttural sound in the back of his throat, exhaling a soft chuckle thereafter. He slapped your face with his left hand before grabbing onto your right breast, leaving you gasping for air with the sting on your face lingering.

You began to darkly chuckle, placing your left hand over your cheek. "Oh you're so fucking dea—"

Oikawa choked you with his right hand, tightening his grip around the base of your neck before lowering his face down to your left ear.

"I'm so fucking what now?" He teased, placing kisses and bites along your jaw and down the side of your neck.

He then slipped his other hand underneath your spine, lifting your upper body up from the couch. Oikawa leaned back and sat on his hind legs while you wrapped your right arm around his neck, placing your left hand behind on the armrest. Staggered and shallow breaths escaped your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, watching your body start to give in.

"Ride me," Oikawa breathed into your mouth before placing a small kiss on your lips. "You do the work now and ride my dick."

You placed both of your hands behind on the armrest of the couch, resting most of your weight on your arms. Your hips began to rock back and forth, bouncing your entire body up and down. He grabbed your waist with both of his hands roughly, controlling your hips to grind against his. His fingers dug deep into the sides of your waist, watching his thumbs massage your skin sensually every time he thrusted into you.

Oikawa guided your body to grind on him, shoving his dick deeper into you with every thrust down. He grunted as you swayed your hips, sliding his right hand off your waist while he reached up behind and grabbed the back of your neck. While digging his fingers into your shoulder, he shot you a smirk before carelessly smashing his lips onto yours.

"Mmm, fuck." He mumbled into your mouth, leaning both of his arms back on the couch cushions. Oikawa threw his head back, closing his eyes and groaning your name as he pushed back his sweaty bangs from his face.

You clung both of your hands onto the back of his neck, locking your fingers together to balance your body onto his. While watching you vigorously grind your hips on his dick, Oikawa admired the view of your body swaying in circles, repeatedly bouncing your ass up and down.

"Fucking ride that cock, baby." Oikawa unabashedly encouraged, slapped your ass hard from behind, causing you to moan louder into his ear.

Every nerve in your body became heightened with blood rushing through your veins, sweat dripping down your back and the feeling of euphoria stimulating your brain. His dick penetrated deep inside you again and again with multiple bite marks across your neck, shoulders and chest accompanying each thrust forward. A breathless moan escaped your lips every time you swayed your hips, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

He wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his as he sucked on your right nipple. While still riding his dick, you bounced up and down and rocked your hips back and forth in a reckless manner as he struggled to keep his lips on your breasts. You felt his tongue piercing roll around your nipple, roughly suck and licking your skin.

"Fuck, fuck��Tooru!" You cried out, smothering his face into your chest. Oikawa grabbed your waist roughly, digging his calloused fingers into your flesh while rapidly thrusting himself inside of you. He sucked on your nipple one last time before pulling back, exhaling a satiated noise with a smile on his face.

"Slap me." He darkly chuckled, throwing his head back to look up at you. "Slap me right fucking now."

You raised your arm up and smacked his face with the back of your hand, leaving a hard mark on the side of his cheek. Immediately, he returned the favor—slapping your face once again as your head instantly whipped to the side.

"Good girl, always following directions." He smirked up at your face, squinting his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows. "You fucking like that, don't you?"

The pain felt good on your skin, leaving another stinging sensation around your face. You quickly grabbed the base of his jaw and leaned your face close to his, whispering in his ear. "Only from you."

A smile crept on his lips when you shoved his face back, removing your grip on his jaw. Your hands then wandered underneath his arms straight to his back, scratching your nails against his skin, leaving red marks all over the top of his shoulders. Another hitched moan escaped your lips, feeling Oikawa angle your body down for his dick to repeatedly hit your g-spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god, Tooru—fuck!" You rolled your head back while exhaling out another moan, the sound absolutely ungodly to the ears.

You tried to catch your breath as your eyes dragged above your eyelids, seeing stars and orbs in your vision. The pressure inside of your body started to accumulate, aching for another release from within. Repeated slaps of skin and gasps of air drowned out any noise within the room, only you and Oikawa left alone in the company of one another.

Suddenly, your body reached its peak—releasing a wave of pleasure all throughout your veins, dripping liquid all over your legs and onto his hips. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin, looking up to the ceiling.

"Fucking bitch," he grabbed onto the base of your neck, pulling your face down to meet his. You held onto his wrist, trying your hardest to remove his hand as your brain started to feel the rush of adrenaline. "You got the couch all wet."

All the pain you felt transformed into pleasure, intensifying your arousal. You could not have cared any less for the mess you made, entirely shrouded and overwhelmed with complete ecstasy. Your heartbeat raced all throughout your body, causing your limbs to convulse in overstimulation.

"Just for that, you're getting punished." He released his grip on your neck, letting you take a deep breath afterwards. He slapped your ass hard, motioning for you to get off his body. "Off. Now."

You did as he commanded, lifting your legs off his body and dropping yourself back onto the couch. He walked towards the large window wall, pointing a finger at the skyline.

"I want your hands and body up against the window, now."

You lifted one leg off the couch at a time, slowly making your way over to where he was. Oikawa crossed his arms when you flung your arms around his neck playfully, pulling his ear down to your lips.

"Why don't you do it for me?"

You closed your eyes and leaned your body back before letting out soft playful laughter, only to have your body roughly pushed against the window with both of your hands pinned behind your back. He breathed on the back of your ear, pressing his hips on your ass.

"Shut up," he growled in your ear, holding your head in place with your left cheek smothered on the glass. "Don't move a muscle."

You held in your breath before Oikawa completely let go of your arms, doing as he commanded. He then placed his hand on the crook of your back, pushing you down onto your knees with your cheek still pressed up against the window wall.

"Good girl," he reassured, caressing your skin as he ran a lone finger down your spine. "Now... do you want me to fuck you again?"

You nodded your head before Oikawa leaned over your body, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at your own reflection in the window wall. Your hot skin instantly felt cold pressed against the window, condensation forming around your whole body like a halo. He tucked his head in between the crook of your neck, kissing and biting the remaining skin that was left unmarked from his teeth.

"I want to hear you beg for it."

You saw the bustling street down below with all the large buildings of downtown Tokyo in the distance. The violet sky held the iridescent white moon, shining down on you. Perhaps if you both weren't in a predicament at the moment, it would have been a beautiful night to watch the stars.

Yet there you were, held in the arms of the man you wished you hadn't given your trust so easily to, knees down on the floor and moaning his name. No thoughts ran through your mind, nor any consequences that could have unfolded from your actions. What would have happened if you had left instead of staying and acting upon impulse?

At the very second, you wanted to feel something other than disappointment; you wanted to fuck away the feeling, letting the same man who caused the problem in the first place grant you a different kind of pain instead. You were caught up in the moment, shamefully submissive to your emotions rather than thinking carefully—yet you were not regretful of your decisions one bit, choosing to go back to him every single time.

"Fuck me again." You bit on your lip and pushed your hips back, grinding your ass on his dick. "Fuck me right now, Tooru."

He slapped your ass one more time, sending another rush of blood to the surface of your skin. His hand kept pressing down on your shoulders, lowering your head closer and closer to the floor while your ass remained high in the air, arching your back to fit his preference.

Oikawa leaned down close to your pussy and ran a single finger down the slit, slipping it in before clearing his throat. When one finger inside became two, he spat on your pussy, running his thumb over your clit and massaging his saliva in.

"Atta girl."

Oikawa leaned over and kissed your shoulder, sucking on your skin once again to leave another mark, decorating your body in love bites. You saw him close his eyes in the reflection of the window before he wrapped his right arm around your neck, pulling back on your throat and inhaling your scent. While holding onto forearm and bicep, his lips brushed against the side of your ear, whispering another command.

"Spread your legs." He growled into your ears, slapping his dick against your entrance, pushing the tip of his dick through your slit.

You pressed your forehead against the window wall again and watched your reflection blur from the condensation of your breath fogging up the glass. You stared at yourself first before noticing Oikawa burying his head into the crook of your neck, sucking on your skin as his lips rolled back and forth on your shoulder.

He thrusted himself deep inside you, feeling the tip of his dick kiss the entrance of your cervix instantaneously. You clamped down on his shaft, forcing Oikawa to let out a deep guttural noise in the back of his throat. He began rocking his hips into your ass, feeling the slap of his skin against yours.

You let out a soft hesitated moan, your voice beginning to tremble while your body remained pressed against the cold window wall. His tattooed arms wrapped around your body—one around your neck and the other around your waist, digging his bruised fingers into your skin.

The gauze on his arm was located right across the tail of his dragon tattoo, watching it rub against the bottom of your cheek in the reflection of the window. Dried blood stained through the white, scabbed over and bruised with dark red to the surface. He continued to moan in your ear, thrashing himself all over your body.

"Fuck, baby. I love the way your pussy feels so much," Oikawa mumbled into your ear as he railed himself inside of you continuously. The combined feeling of his dick and the deprivation of oxygen to your brain sent a euphoric feeling to your head, causing your eyes to roll back once more.

You pressed your hands against the window, unable to hold your grip as your palms began to slip down the glass. Oikawa held you close to his body, grabbing onto your waist and pushing himself further inside, feeling every single ounce of his soul slip through his fingertips.

He let go of your hips before placing his left hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers together on the window wall while condensation formed around the silhouette. You held onto him tightly, squeezing his bruised fingers as it knocked against the wet glass.

A huge wave of desire washed your body as a pleasant and familiar feeling formed, a sense of ephemeral warmth and happiness passing through your mind. It was almost identical to the feeling you felt when you were first with him, only ever experiencing while engaged in sexual activity. You questioned what that feeling was as you locked your fingers with Oikawa's—was it lust or infatuation? Perhaps it could have been love?

"Where do you want me?" He whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your helix. In one stroke, he railed his cock into your pussy again as you moaned softly.

"Inside," you breathlessly whimpered, staring at him in the window's reflection. "Come inside of me."

"Dirty girl," he softly replied, flexing his bicep around your neck before kissing your cheek. "Always wanting me to fill you up. Your pussy's all mine."

An increasing tension formed in your core again, ready to combust. You felt the pressure gradually work its way up your spine and to your brain, exploding throughout your body as the feeling rushed to your fingertips. You clutched Oikawa's hand, your legs trembling from overstimulation, experiencing your final orgasm for the night.

Instantly, you cried out Oikawa's name against the window wall, moaning at the top of your lungs. You felt him pick up the pace, ramming his hips repeatedly against your ass. His dick throbbed inside of you again, the ridges of his veins scratching up against the walls of your pussy.

"Tooru, I'm coming!" You screamed, throwing your head back to ease his arm's grip around your throat. A sudden rush of cold air infiltrated your lungs, experiencing a duality of senses throughout your body.

Your cheek pressed up against the cold touch of the window provided the perfect contrast to the rising temperature of your body, feeling hot and sweltered from the intensity. Oikawa removed his arm from your neck, grabbing onto your waist as he bucked his hips wildly against your ass.

He whispered sweet nothings into your ear before releasing a loud, vocal groan into your ear. You felt his dick twitch inside of you, depositing multiple loads of his cum deep within your pussy. Continuing to shove himself deeper into you, he guided your hips down on his, grinding your ass up against his dick.

You heard him breathe heavily behind you, slowly guiding your waist up and down his dick while your pussy exploited every last bit of his ejaculate. He reclined back, leaning on his hind legs as he watched his cum spill out of you, dripping an opaque white onto the oak flooring.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." Oikawa praised, spreading your ass apart as he pulled out his cock coated in a mixture of his semen and your essence. He swiped two digits against your dripping pussy, collecting a large sample of his cum onto the tips of his fingers. From behind, Oikawa hooked them against the side of your cheek, smothering the liquid onto your tongue.

"Taste my cum, baby."

He released his grip on your body, removing his fingers from your mouth and your hip. Your hands collapsed to the ground as you swallowed a portion of his cum, feeling the viscosity of his ejaculate trickle down your esophagus. You breathed in deeply, lowering your head while looking down at the bustling traffic on the street.

Your heart was beating way too fast for your body to handle, feeling the pulse pound inside your head. The oak floor felt like it would cave in and collapse underneath you, unable to get a grip with your palms. No thoughts ran through your mind anymore, absolutely exhausted from everything that happened.

Oikawa touched your shoulders, sliding his hands underneath your arms to pull you up off the floor, stabilizing your body. When you were able to stand up on your feet again, your arms flung around his neck, slowly caressing the back of his head and intertwining your fingers with his brown locks. You rested your head on his shoulders, closing your eyes while he held you close.

"You need to rest," he traced his finger along your back, drawing small circles on your skin. Slowly, he pressed his lips against your shoulder, planting small kisses up your jaw and down your neck.

It was hard to keep your eyes open as Oikawa began to lead you to his bed, holding you up from falling over. The condo was still dark, no lights illuminating neither his room or the living area. Sooner or later, your head collided with the soft pillow on the right side of his bed, sliding yourself in between the cold white sheets.

Oikawa tucked you into the bed, pulling the blanket over your naked body. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, sinking straight into the comfort of the mattress, feeling your heartbeat begin to slow down.

You thought about the moments leading up before your encounter with Oikawa, turning your head over to face him.

"Why..." You mustered out quietly, lowering your voice. "Why don't you trust me?"

He caressed his right hand on your cheek, lowering himself to whisper in your ear. "Because I'm scared."

"What are you so afraid of that you can't trust me?" You slowly opened your eyes to Oikawa looking down at you with a solemn expression on his face, not a single muscle in his body moving. He didn't respond, only a harsh emptiness and a cold connection between you two residing in the atmosphere.

Perhaps ignorance was bliss as you desperately tried to find an answer of what he could have been so afraid of—yet all you saw was your own reflection in his eyes.

"I'm scared that you'll end up leaving me."

At that moment, you knew exactly what he reminded you of—a fallen angel, living in the depths of mankind's hell, desperately seeking for a heaven to reclaim.

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