#watched this 3 times live and it's still not enough

[alwaysshallow]

single mom x price; PART 4

you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.

AO3 VERSION

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

You know that you usually keep your promises. 

When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.

When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else. 

Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.

And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.

Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.

You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.

What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself. 

Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board. 

And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.

Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.

Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.

When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job. 

However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.

When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”.  He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.

Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.

Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past. 

What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.

And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—

Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you. 

John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…

But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that. 

The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.

“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face. 

You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.

He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.

“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”

So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.

Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things. 

The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly. 

You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well. 

Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.

“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”

“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”

“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”

He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.

What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son. 

Just like you thought, you have your wings again.

You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…

Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air. 

The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.

Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.

He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?

“I’m so—”

“—Don’t even try.”

And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?

He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.

It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit. 

The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.

"John—” 

He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."

And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.

He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.

It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.

It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.

It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters. 

Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.

Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?

But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t. 

He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.

“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.” 

“...and what did you say?”

“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.

Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.

Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it. 

You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.

You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.

You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.

#john price call of duty #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain john price #john price cod #cod x reader #captain price #captain price fanfic #john price #price cod #price x reader #single mom reader #john price smut

[cheesus-doodles]

A Friend In Me: Chapter 4

Yandere Platonic Toman

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Chapters 1 | 2‎ | 3

Masterlist

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my usual pink line divide no longer works because it messes with the tags ;^; have this divider from angelfire instead

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The world around Mikey came to a standstill. His ears buzzed with static, unable to process anything as his mind raced. In a sole instant, everything clicked together as if an incomplete puzzle finally being solved, and the Tokyo Manji Gang president could see the full picture, though the surprise at this revelation never made it to reflect in those abyss eyes. 

It made sense now, the blond-haired boy mused, watching the other five Toman founders burst into action in slow motion around him. He understood. Why you were attracted to two fighting delinquents instead of beating a hasty retreat like everyone else when you first met them, why you never seemed bothered by them turning up with small splatters of blood on their disheveled uniforms, why you could so effectively patch up injuries. You had never divulged or discussed your home life nor your childhood with them, and he had never bothered pressing you for details. Because why would he, when all evidence pointed to you living alone and having always lived alone? Having followed you home countless times to an empty house, you were always alone at all times of the day. No laundry or carelessly strewn clothes to be found, no closed or locked room that indicated another resident in your home. Even the pictures that decorated the walls and your bedrooms have always just been you and them.

“Hey!” From behind Mikey came a shout from Mitsuya, quickly followed by the telltale sounds of a tussle between the Toman Vice President and the Second Division Captain over you in the middle. “Don’t pull like that!”

You had grown up beside a delinquent. Your older brother whom you had never cared to mention was himself a fearsome and borderline insane delinquent - they had doubetlessly heard of Madarame Shion’s brutality and his supposed involvement in underworld crimes even before their paths crossed. Of course nothing they did would surprise or scare you if this was the normal behavior you were exposed to all your life. 

Abyss eyes turned to take in the expression on your face, the horror at what was happening slowly settling into your swollen eyes even as tears continued to streak down flush cheeks. Yet, all it took was the merest exposure to what was the normalcy of any delinquent’s life for you to break down - a telling-off, a by-far bloodless fight, nothing that would raise the eyebrow of a seasoned onlooker really. So how much did you really know? Did you know of their previous clash with Shion and the ninth generation of Black Dragons back when from the founding of Toman? He doubted it - your reaction to them after their fight would have been a lot stronger if you did. But most importantly, why didn’t you tell them earlier about having an older sibling?

A muffled shout from your still-connected call to your disgrace-of-a-delinquent older brother was enough to draw Mikey’s attention back to the current situation at hand, though he all but ignored whatever that goon had to say. No, you couldn’t know, he determined, because if you did, you would clearly see that they had no reason to fear a shithead like Shion. They had beaten him and his gang once already, what was a second time? But he could get the answers out of you later, once you were safe and away from this mess. For now, the Toman President mused, as time returned to its usual speed and the world exploded back into its full chaotic state, there were more important things to settle.

The mere thought of possibly losing you to this black-haired homewrecker you called Koko, or even worse, the loser of an older brother that they have already beaten to a pulp once; his heart raced. He couldn’t accept it. These weak-willed losers couldn’t be allowed to win him, especially not in a matter as important as this. 

Pivoting around, your watery eyes were helplessly fixed on the brawl going down right in front of you, phone clutched in a white-knucked grip. This was all for your own good. He was just protecting you from the wider world, the Toman President tried to convince himself, his slippered feet starting its ominous route towards the brawling four, his hands tucked almost casually into the pockets of his school pants. Your eyes immediately snapping to him and your lips falling apart as you watched him move.

Not because Mikey needed your support and your attention; no, he didn’t need you as much as you needed him. He was strong, the unshakable pillar of the Tokyo Manji Gang, not soft and weak and a crybaby like you. His heart wasn’t aching at the mere thought of never being able to see you again, never having you pamper and lavish him with attention and love and filling the hole in his heart - the palpitations was from excitement, the itch to fight and drive away the enemies of his friends.

He was the Invincible Mikey, and now more than ever, he needed to make sure that everyone knew why.

‎‎

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Ninth Generation Black Dragon President. You heard Koko loud and clear right before the momentary tranquility went straight to hell once more, but now you could barely think amidst the cacophony. Individually, the words made sense, yet strung together, it became incoherent to your spinning mind. Too many, too much. Watching Baji once more take aim at the opposing delinquent, you staggered a step forward, your heart urging you to take action; do something, do anything. Before someone gets hurt again. 

You were yanked back before you could take another step, vaguely registering Draken’s voice snapping at you but nothing registering in your mind. Fixated on the fight going on its second round, the white of Inui’s uniform, combined with his sunflower-blond hair, seemed to almost glimmer in the sunlight as it caught your eye, and the memories you had long lost to the back of your mind came surging back to the front. You had seen that uniform before, having washed and scrubbed the blood from the white fabric before Shion moved out. It’s happening. Again. Any control you felt you had left over your own life was slipping through your fingers once more; the way of your life that you had so painstakingly built, the personality you had so carefully tailored, everything was falling apart in front of your eyes. All over again.

Those stunned expressions you just saw simply couldn’t be faked, you knew instinctively, not with how all of them wore the same look on their faces. For reasons beyond you, everyone present all knew your older brother, and vice versa. They all hated each other, and you were caught right in the middle. How could you have known that the only friends you had knew of and hated each other? What more could you have done? What could you have done differently?

Maybe you should have heeded Mikey’s and the other’s warnings about Koko. Maybe if you hadn’t gone looking for that CB250T. If you hadn’t-

Every breath became heavier and heavier, faster and faster, and you struggled to fill your lungs, the air sludgy and thick. The world around you was all too much. Too loud. You couldn’t-

A fresh pair of arms enveloped you, and you were pulled into a tight hug. “Breathe.”

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, your body shuddering as the atmosphere instantly thinned out. You gulped down as much oxygen as you could, your sweating palms glistening in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Are you alright?” Mitsuya’s voice was calm, soft, those calloused hands gently running through your hair as he bodily blocked you from the fight that was occurring just a stone’s throw away.

Unable to speak, you simply nodded, wiping your fist on your shirt. I’m fine, you mouthed, though you knew that Mitusya knew it was a lie, your skin having turned several tones lighter from the lack of air. But you had other more important things to concern yourself with (at least in your view), as you attempted to look over your friend’s mob of purple hair. What had you missed? 

“Relax,” the Toman founder tried to convince you, resting one hand atop your head yet not forcing you down by any means despite Draken’s annoyed ‘tch’ from behind you, where he continued to hold on to you tightly. “Let them handle it.” 

Let them handle it? Giving a shaky glance you hoped was reassuring at Mitsuya, you turned your attention back to the fight, right as Kazutora broke past Inupi’s defense, his fist outstretched and jealous anger fully directed at Koko.

In a single blink, you broke free from both Draken and Mitsuya’s grip, your long strides closing the distance between you and Koko. “Tory, stop!”

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‎

The last thing Koko expected was to see you flying towards him, putting your decidedly much more fragile self between him and the Toman founder.

”Fuck- Watch out!” 

An exceptionally hard yank from Koko had both you and him flying backwards, but the loud smack of a fist into the back of your head as the two of you fell towards the ground was unmistakable. His gut dropped. Damn it. Too late. Landing with an oof on the hard ground and you atop him, the infamous financier could hardly acknowledge the ache of his back, not while his thoughts were focused solely on you. “Are you alright?” What on earth were you thinking? He wasn’t exactly a delinquent but he sure as hell could take, if not dodge, a hit better than you - he just preferred standing behind others.

You winced, rubbing what should be a forming sore spot where you were hit. “I’m fine,” you assured, the momentary crinkle of your forehead as you carefully shifted tilted your head telling otherwise, though it was quick to evaporate as the realization of who cushioned your fall hit you. You scrambled to stand, but you were instantly tackled to the ground once more by a bawling Toman founder with black and yellow hair and nearly falling over again - Kazutora, if Koko remembered correctly.

”I- I-“ Barely able to speak, your own injury was forgotten as you instantly shifted to attempt to soothe the wailing boy with an undeserved gentleness. “I hit-”

”I’m fine, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure. “It barely touched me.” It was obviously the wrong thing to say, your voice quickly drowned out as Kazutora only cried harder, burying his face into your shirt, fists clenching bundles of your school shirt. 

Koko could only watch on as you caught his gaze, returning an apologetic one of your own as you did your best to soothe the bawling delinquent - a sight that he never thought he would witness. He did already have a good idea of what your self-proclaimed Toman friends were like, having been forewarned about how protective they were of you (some of your stories truly did raise an eyebrow or two). And sure, Inupi had whirled around at his alarmed shout with what should be an intent to help, but his attention had been forced back to the fight on hand almost instantaneously when Baji had attempted to take advantage of his momentary distraction to go in for a sweep; it's not as if his friend didn’t care at all. But expecting to have to throw hands was one thing, understandable even, given how he would be associated with Inupi and thus the Black Dragons, but this level of attachment? Were all these waterworks even real?

A set of footsteps stomping in his direction had the notorious financier look up, and straight at the Toman’s Vice Captain towering over him. But the other’s ire surprisingly wasn’t directed at him, and instead, you were bodily lifted by the front of your shirt, forcing Kazutora off of you right before you were shaken like a stuck salt shaker. “What the hell were you thinking?! That was insane!”

“I’m alright-” You barely got two words out before being cut off again.

“YOU ARE NOT OKAY,” bellowed back an uncharacteristically furious Draken, and you threw both hands up in surrender even as you continued to be shaken around like a martini.  “YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN HURT. OR KILLED!”

Kazutora only started to cry harder at his words, babbling incoherently as he tried to latch onto your legs.

At least the Toman Third Division Captain was on your side, stepping between a furious Vice Captain and you and prying you free with little effort. “You’re making it worse,” Pah said simply, echoing Mitsuya’s earlier words.

‎

“-ey! HEY! ” The vague screams of Shion echoed out from beneath you, alerting you, Koko and everyone else to the fact that you had yet to hang up on your previous call. Fishing around beneath you where your phone had most likely fallen earlier on, your older brother’s frankly annoying shrieking was finally noticed, now that the general mayhem had died down. 

And much to Koko’s annoyance, you visibly stiffened upon hearing Shion once more, like a bolt of lightning ran up your spine, and you bent over to gingerly pick up your dropped phone. He hated seeing you scared of someone as useless as Shion, a scumbag even Inupi wasn’t impressed with. If he could make your problem disappear, he would in a blink. Not that this would be right time to tell you this. 

The clash of delinquents had long driven off any last soul left that tried to wander down this street, the road deserted of passerbys of any kind. Even the wind had long died down, and Koko hastily dabbed away the sweat forming along his upper lip. “Ah, nii-san-” You mumbled out under your breath, though that was most likely more to remind yourself who you were dealing with on the other end.

“FUCKING FINALLY! YOU GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!” 

Deflated, you looked defeated at your older brother’s orders, your shoulders slumping over. “I-”

But Shion was not done. “AND DROP THOSE TOMAN FUCKS, UNDERSTAND?”

And that was apparently where the former Black Dragon President crossed the line. In a blink, your phone disappeared from your grip as if by magic. You barely had time to react, the small, outdated electronic now clutched tightly in Mikey’s white-knuckled grip, a speed that took even Koko by surprise. When did he get that? Where did he even come from?

“I’ll kill you,” the threat from the Toman President was loud and clear, the sheer rage burning behind those empty eyes enough to have even Koko recoil. “You try anything funny, and I’ll kill you, right here, right now.”

A snort. “Try it, motherfu-”

‎

It was a loud crack, followed by a small fizzle, an unremarkable show that marked the untimely end to your device as Mikey crushed the phone underfoot without an afterthought. Your jaw dropped. Koko estimated you must have lost the equivalent of several months of work in one inconsiderate move. 

Not that the Toman lowlives you called friends knew, of course, seemingly failing to notice you staring on speechlessly as Baji proceeded to grind the heel of his foot into the electronic device, spitting curses probably meant for your brother. You no doubt knew full-well by now that they were pissed to hell and back, both at Shion and at him, but did they have to take this out on your poor, defenseless phone?

A shove from Mitsuya quickly broke Baji’s rampage. “Stop that!” The purple-haired boy scolded, as he pushed the other Toman founder away, earning himself an irritated “Huh?!” from the First Division Captain, though that did little to scare Mitsuya. “You’re making it worse!”

The breaking of your phone was of relative insignificance to Koko at least, watching you dejectedly shuffle forward to pick up the broken pieces of the devices to stuff back into your pocket; the short tranquility he got now from the previous chaos was worth the cost to replace it for you at a later date. Even better, he could get you a nicer model, something pretty and slick and get into your good books, perhaps convince you to get an additional number that only he would have? That would definitely put him ahead of the Toman boys, at the very least.

“Hey.” A short shuffle, and Koko looked up, his eyes instantly focusing on your outstretched hand.

Inupi had long stepped aside, not eager to be pulled back into this particular lover’s squabble, those blue eyes content with observing as the Toman founders were once more embroiled in pointless arguments once more. Complete with threats of violence and withholding of lunches, it was Mistuya this time that was caught in the middle, attempting to scold both Mikey and Baji with backing from Draken. 

You, though, had turned your attention instead to him. “Are you alright?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the other loud voices. Even with all that happened, you hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Ye, I’m fine,” Koko assured. “Just a bit sore.”

Yet as he reached out to accept your offer of help, it was a sudden recognition of the situation he put himself in that rang in his ears and rattled his mind; the sensation much as if he was waking from a trance the black-haired boy hadn’t even realized he was in. Widened almond eyes met yours, the realization lighting up dilated pupils: if he had known any better, you would have been the last person he would ever want to court, let alone be in any sort of relationship with, coming laden with so much baggage. Anyone would be insane to want to be involved with a walking spark like you.

Alas, the sensation was momentary, and the thought of letting you slip away from him - letting someone Koko cared about be stolen away from him again - was accompanied immediately by a heart-throbbing sense of loss that came surging from his gut. Could he truly live without you to fill the hole in his heart? More importantly, did he dare to attempt to? 

Too lost in his thoughts, it was a subconscious catch of movement in the corner of his eye that snapped Koko out from his inner turmoil. It was of course you, though the disappointment was already written on your face as you began to pull away and straighten up, words tumbling free from pressed lips. “Ah- I’m glad,” you muttered, starting to turn away from him. “Hopefully it doesn’t hurt bad.”

How long had he been trapped thinking in real world time? Long enough for you to notice his hesitation, at the very least. Panic now kicking his reaction back into high gear, Koko all but threw himself after your now-retreating hand, catching it just centimeters away from where it had been, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. “Thanks,” was all his heavy tongue could stutter out, the black-haired boy trying desperately to pretend that nothing had happened as he pulled himself up, taking care to rely as little as possible on you. You said nothing, but the upturn of your lips told him everything he needed to know. You didn’t even pull away from him when he had surreptitiously intertwined his fingers with yours, quietly pulling both your hands behind him so the others couldn’t see.

See? There was no doubt - you wanted to be with him. The little moment however didn’t last long, as Koko forced himself to focus back on the issue at hand. He had to solve this issue before they could take you away from him. He couldn’t lose everything again. Wrecking his brain, the solution that Koko arrived at was surprisingly simple. 

Money. 

It was money that could have saved Akane, so maybe money could save you too? That was it. Money. Money could solve everything, couldn’t it? “How much?” Koko found himself blurting out before he could stop himself. Those two words were enough to dumbfounded everyone there, with eight pairs of eyes turning to stare at Koko. Were they really that surprised? Or just waiting for an offer?

“A hundred thousand yen,” the black-haired boy clarified. And he didn’t need to clarify what he was saying - a hundred thousand yen for them to give you to him. He didn’t want to fight, he was barely interested in being a delinquent as it is. All he wanted was you, no matter the cost. “I’ll give you a hundred thousand yen.” 

“What?” You were the first to speak, your slack jaw and furrowed eyebrows sending a throb through his chest. Damn, was his offer too low? You were priceless of course - no matter how vast Koko’s fortune was, you would always be unattainable - so were you going to think that he was being cheap? That you were only worth so little in his eyes?

Even Inupi had raised an eyebrow at his named price, and though the surprise was written all over his usual stoic expression, the blond-haired boy said nothing.

But before he could try and revise his offer, to make sure you knew just how much Koko was ready to spend on you, it seemed his words finally set in in the others’ much slower minds. “Do you think we’re just going to sell-” The vein bulged prominently on Baji’s forehead as he once more lunged forward, and would have reached his target if not for Mitsuya grabbing the back of his shirt. “You son of a bitch!”

“How fucking dare you?!” Kazutora snarled, and Koko braced himself for another fight as the duo-colored delinquent made to pull away from you.

‎

‎

“Honestly why is it everytime there’s a ruckus, it’s always you, Mikey?” A new voice sighed out from behind Koko, catching all present by surprise. Those abyss eyes were an exact carbon copy of the Tokyo Manji Gang President’s, though the man that they belonged to was one that Koko was thankfully still on rather good terms with. “Can yall at least keep it away from my shop? Bad for business and all.”

By now, the once clear sky had filled up with clouds that blocked most of the light from the afternoon sun, the oppressing heat somewhat dissipating as the breeze picked up once more.

From where you were at the center of the mess, your ears perked up as if a dog recognized the word ‘snack’. “O-oji-san?” You sniffled a little, though you quickly pulled yourself together, rubbing your nose on your forearm. Eyes, though red and swollen, were now dry.

“I’m not that old!” Shinichiro froze right as the words left his lips, blinking as he stared back at you, the gears very clearly turning behind his eyes as he took in the entire scene that had unfolded right in front of his shop. “Oh,” the man mumbled, as if all the puzzle pieces had just fallen into place, gaze turning from you to Mikey before landing on Inupi and Koko. A pause, and he sighed, resting one hand on his hip. “It’s you, huh?”

Kazutora shuffled protectively in front of you in an attempt to hide your figure from the older man’s view, your arm interlocked tightly with his as he glared back. “You staring?” The sandy-brown eyed boy demanded, puffing up his chest the same way a cat poofed up its fur, a 180 from his childlike state just minutes earlier, the tears now all gone as he scowled at the newest entry.

This, however, only earned him a whack to the back of his head by Draken, after which the boy deflated. “That’s Mikey’s older brother, dipshit.”

Shinichiro seemed to barely notice the small squabble taking place, his hand dipping into his pocket to withdraw a small, slightly crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sliding the stick into his mouth and lighting up, the older man took a long inhale, his voice slightly raspy as he spoke. “So,” he started, looking at Mikey. “This is the buddy you’ve been telling me about?”

Yet before Mikey could answer the rhetorical question, Shinichiro had already turned to Koko. “And also your little birdie?”

“No.” “No.” Both Mikey and Baji snapped irritably together in response to the second question, with Baji seemingly just a hair’s breadth away from flying straight at Koko once more, his fist clenching with anticipation.

“He,” Baji very pointedly hissed out, sharp yellow eyes glaring across the aisle at Koko. “Needs to stay away.”

You meekly shuffled your feet, your eyes turned down towards the ground as your Toman friends turned on cue to shoot you a stink eye. Ah. Caught breaking the rules again. “Koko’s just a friend,” you offered weakly, though it didn’t seem to convince anyone. 

Koko could only feel the growing pit at the base of his gut as Inupi threw a similarly dirty look his way, though the sunflower-blond Black Dragon member still raised his pipe in defense. Fuck. To be fair to him, Koko reasoned internally, he hadn’t known about your ties to the Tokyo Manji Gang back when he was standing outside Inupi’s door in the rain, but he did casually fail to mention it even after he knew. Now that it was out in the open, there wasn’t really anything more he could say.

Shinichiro let out yet another ragged sigh as he took another breath, exhaling the smoke into a column that hung lazily in the still, humid air before speaking again, this time his words directed at you. “And you’re related to the Ninth Generation Black Dragon President? The one that Toman bea- OW!”

You were slightly confused at Mikey’s sudden move to stomp on Shinichiro’s foot, the abrupt sentence stop only leaving you to wonder. Was Shinichiro trying to say something that Mikey didn’t like? Shrugging it off as something you wouldn’t be able to find out anyway, the side eyes sent Shinichiro’s way were hard to miss. “Madarame is my nii-san,” you nodded, reaching down to gently touch the remnants of your phone jiggling in your pocket. “He moved out from our family home years ago, but it seems like he’s back today for some reason.”

Hopping around the pavement, the man’s expression was twisted in pain radiating from his bruised foot, with Mikey still scowling at his own older brother. “Ah, i-in that case,” Shinichiro managed to grit out as he shuffled back to lean against the glass windows of his shop. “You should go home and see what he wants.”

That turned out to be a highly unpopular opinion, and the disagreement your friends felt necessary to voice was made obvious even with the respect the delinquents had for Shinichiro, Mikey being the loudest in his protest. 

“No!” “Absolutely not.” “Are you crazy?!” “NO!” The torrent of disagreements were certainly surprising to you, and you blinked owly as you were physically pulled further away from Shinichiro, as if the older man was going to personally rip you away from your friends and bring you home.

Shinichiro, however, was undeterred by the outburst that half the neighborhood must have heard, waving his arms downwards in an attempt to restore the peace, waiting for the chaos to die down before continuing, his smoking cigarette lightly gripped between two fingers. “As I was saying, you should go home and see what Shion wants first, since he is your older brother. And then Mikey and your friends can meet you after. I’ll settle things here and then send them over, alright?”

It was phrased as if it was a suggestion, but there was no negotiation to be had. Now that Shinichiro was present, he was in charge. 

You seemed hesitant, but ultimately agreed. That did make sense to you, given that if Shion was planning to move back home, there were arrangements that would have to be made, and changes in your schedule. And with how much your older brother and Toman seemed to already hate each other, it would be better to allow tempers to diffuse before combining both halves of your life. “Alright, I’ll head home first.”

“What if she isn’t safe at home, Shinichiro-san?” Draken pointed out, his arms crossed, Pah nodding sagely along, joined by the frantic bubbling and wailing from Kazutora, who had done another u-turn from badass delinquent to bubbling and wailing mess, attached to your side like superglue and refusing to let go.

Mitsuya straightened out your school uniform for you, a more levelheaded presence though still physically blocking any view you had of Koko further down the street. “Are you going to be safe?”

You paused, your head cocking as you considered what Mitsuya was asking, before slowly nodding. “Madarame-nii won’t hurt me,” you tried to assure, though you didn’t sound very confident yourself. “I should be fine.”

“They won’t be long here,” Shinichiro promised, grabbing Mikey by the back of his shirt as said boy attempted to make a break for you, before he turned to almost effortlessly snag Kazutora in the exact same manner.

Koko’s heart sank when you turned away from him, but with Shinichiro’s stronger-than-it-looked hand resting on his shoulder, Inupi was already distancing himself from the Toman boys, all he could do was watch you say your goodbyes to your Toman friends before disappearing round the bend, with no say on whether he would ever be able to see you again. Maybe, maybe all he needed was more money.

‎

‎

Fourteen years in the future, the atmosphere that blanketed the headquarters of the feared Tokyo Manji Gang syndicate was not too dissimilar to the delicate yet weighty tension outside of Shinichiro’s shop. It was by every account a gorgeous day outside, the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and catching in the gold trimmings of each and every fitting of the opulent home. Yet, the hallways of the penthouse were unusually empty of the usual black-tie suited gangsters and guards and the like that usually teemed this area, the deafening silence weighing down what was the epitome of luxury. But it was hardly a concerning issue to Kisaki as he stalked down the wide corridors, casting a shadow on the priceless art and other masterpieces as he swept past, the crystals that decorated the chandeliers hanging above chiming lightly as they jingled with the air conditioning. After all, he did know why everyone had been sent away, and he did hold a very slight responsibility for the cause.

His destination was at the end of the corridor, a simple white door fitted into wallpapered walls that stood out like a sore thumb amidst the lavishness, a curse from a different time that continued to haunt both him and Mikey. Because it wasn’t just the door that was a specter from the past, Kisaki knew. The sole rap on the door was a courtesy, and the suited man didn’t wait for a response to enter.

The room he stepped into looked ripped straight from a common suburban home, unfitting for a multimillion dollar house right in the heart of Tokyo, even less so for a yakuza boss with the entire underground world at his fingertips. Simple painted walls, a hardwood flooring, and well-worn furniture that had seen better days, things that Kisaki wouldn’t even give a second glance yet things that would get him shot between his eyes if his fingers lingered on them for a second too long. “Mikey,” Kisaki greeted, cutting a straight path to the single armchair turned to face away from the entrance.

There was no response from said man, abyss eyes staring blankly out clear, streakless windows into the open sky, though his gaze did turn to meet Kisaki’s as the door swung close with a soft click, the dragon tattoo decorating his scrawny neck contrasting greatly with his pale skin. A sky-high view of the city skyline worthy of the sky-high price, but again, not what he was here for. 

The Toman second-in-command held up a sheaf of papers, his other hand pushing up his glasses. “Need your sign-off on these.” It was rare for him to have to do such menial tasks as delivering paperwork - that is the sole purpose he pays for Mikey to have a dedicated secretary - but with it being this time of the year again, the reports were once more starting to be returned unsigned and unread.

Yet for all the effort Kisaki undertook to come here in person, it meant nothing to Mikey, the yakuza boss simply ignoring whatever his right-hand man had to say as he turned his gaze back out the window once more. The spectacled man tried again, taking a step closer. “Mikey,” he insisted, hand reaching out in an attempt to pass on the papers on hand. 

But it was the distinctive click of a gun’s safety being switched off that had Kisaki retract his hand as if burnt, the anger that had sparked in those usually empty eyes clear as Mikey swung around to glare at him. Throwing both arms up in surrender and under the other’s deadly scowl, he backed away slightly; an inch closer, and those reports would have brushed against the delicate decades-old fabric of the armchair. Your armchair. 

That heavy pressure was palpable as the silence weighed on the passing time. A heartbeat, then two. “What?” The biker gang president-turned-mafioso finally growled out, voice hoarse from lack of use - it must have been at least a week since he last spoke, Kisaki noted.

”Your sign-off.”

”No.”

Kisaki let out an exasperated sigh. “Mikey-“

”No,” Mikey repeated. “Leave.” And that was that, with said man refusing to look at him a moment longer, flopping back down into his armchair limply, the momentary energy from a rush of adrenaline dissipated back into the cocktail of depression and drugs the former delinquent had been indulging in.

There was nothing more that the second-in-command could do but to obey and leave. But he did understand the reason behind Mikey’s foul mood - it was just about a month out from both Shinichiro’s and your death anniversary, after all, even if both events were several years apart. Pausing at the threshold of the room, Kisaki used the moment it took to open the door to subtly glance around; it was rare that he ever had the chance to see the inside of this room. 

After all, the ghost that still haunted them was you. 

This was, or had been, your room, with every last item and detail having been painstakingly removed, transported and reinstalled when the yakuza boss had finally been convinced to relocate from what had been your home in the suburb for his own safety. That armchair, your bed and covers that Mikey still sleeps in, the wooden floor panels and the old plastered walls and ceilings. Even this blasted door which formally served as your bedroom door. It was all you. 

And your death hadn’t even been planned. Sure the spectacled man knew of your existence, but you had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had been caught up in an attack meant for another.

Carefully closing the door behind him, Kisaki shook his head, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The once strongman of Toman, the invincible delinquent, could conquer anything he set out to - the spiral into crime, the murder of his former friends, the whole of the Japan underground world. Yet twelve years on, Mikey just couldn’t let you go, long after you had breathed your last breath and torn the entire Toman apart.

The good thing was that at least Kisaki doesn’t exactly need the Toman boss’ approval to get things done around here; it’s far easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

‎

‎

Back fourteen years in the past, you hardly had the time to worry about what time would eventually bring to your doorstep, knee-deep in your current problems. The moon hung mockingly high in the sky as you closed the door gently behind you, tweaking the knob slightly as it latched back into place to stop its usual click. Your efforts, however, were in vain, and you froze as the all-too distinctive sound echoed through the otherwise silent night. Carefully pressing one ear against the wooden front door, you held your breath, waiting to hear that distinct stomping of feet  down the stairs in your pursuit and the roar of your name.

The past weeks have been nothing short of hell. With your older brother Madarame temporarily moving back into your family home, it went without saying that you were no longer permitted to see your Toman friends going forward, let alone have them come over. Biting your lip, you would simply agree and say nothing more, careful to tread on eggshells around the volatile boy. With how closely your older brother has been monitoring your every move, you hadn’t dared to step out of line - you did previously have a front row seat as to what happened to the people around you the last time you dared to openly disobey.

Yet time and time again, it was Mikey and the others that persisted in swinging round to pick you up in the evenings against your brother’s orders in the one and half week since the fight, exactly as Shinichiro had predicted, even doing several very loud donuts that your neighbors would not appreciate outside your house just to make sure that Shion knew they were there. To your surprise, it was your brother who has done nothing more than scowl at you running out to meet them from the window like a disapproving mother before disappearing into the house, failing to even bring up your cheeky escapades the day after. Him and the Toman founders definitely weren’t on speaking terms, you determined, but there was more to it that either party was willing to say.

But all this was far from your concern at the moment. 

Tonight was one of those rare nights: with your brother fast asleep in his bed instead of out and prowling the streets, and the mobs of various-colored hair were nowhere to be seen lounging along your street, busy with a gang meet at Musashi Shrine. A rare chance to take advantage of this extraordinary situation where you have finally been left alone for just a small window of time. That is, as long as you didn’t get caught first - and your brother would 100% tattle on you to your friends if it would get you in more trouble.

The summertime heat was already in full-force by now at the start of August, and though the blazing temperature has at least cooled somewhat with the absence of the sun from the night sky, the humidity had yet to let up. Beads of perspiration that dotted your forehead trailed their way down your forehead as you waited, your heartbeat racing with every second ticking by. Was this it? 

A minute passed. Then two. And the inside of your house remained as quiet as the dead of night, the peace of your neighborhood unbroken. Heaving a sigh of relief, you quickly turned heel, fleeing down the lifeless main street before taking a corner at the first alley, coming face to face with a familiar grinning face waiting for you under the flickering light of a weary streetlamp. “Took you long enough,” Koko chuckled, both hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. 

“That’s not very nice!” You tried your best to put up an indignant front, but the facade collapsed into a wide grin too quickly for any part of it to be taken seriously. “Did I keep you waiting long, Koko? Sorry ‘bout that.”

The black-haired boy waved off your apologies, pulling himself up from the wall he had been leaning against. “Nah, it’s just been a few minutes,” he admitted. Offering a hand to you, you were glad to accept, gently intertwining your fingers with his as he led you through the dark alleyway, your duo’s footsteps barely echoing amidst the silent residential buildings. “Any place in mind?”

You shook your head. “Didn’t think about it cause I know you do.”

“Ah.”

You laughed as Koko rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. You did know him well enough to assume otherwise. Letting out a hum, you allowed the other to tug you closer to his side, to which you responded by resting your head on his shoulder. “So where are we going?”

If you could be honest with yourself for a moment, Koko was the breath of fresh air you had been looking for. It was a truly ungrateful feeling to harbor, especially towards your Toman boys who had been the ones to take you in and accept you as a friend, but he was an escape from the constant neediness and possessiveness. You did love them dearly, really, but sometimes it all just got too much for you, with the final straw being that particular incident outside of Shinichiro’s shop; you had never been frightened of Mikey or Baji or the others before, yet seeing them snap before your eyes at another that you held dear to you - it was all too much, on top of having to deal with new tension at home.

All you wanted was to be able to hang out with a friend you made yourself, someone you didn’t have to give constant attention to. A friend who wouldn’t put you on a pedestal.

“There’s a nice karaoke place in town,” Koko replied almost absentmindedly, his well-gelled hair bobbing slightly as it caught the occasional light as the two of you stepped out of the alleyway and back onto a main street. “We can take the train there.”

Your mind immediately thought to the last round your Toman boys had invited you to karaoke with them, the session ending with you having to cool heads when they started bickering about whose turn it was with the mic. “That’s a good idea,” you nodded. Those places were open pretty late, right? Plus a private room would make it a lot harder to get caught.

‎

The area the two of you ended up in was a location slightly outside of town, which you recognized as not being too far from Shinichiro’s shop - the now-closed small convenience store was the same one that Mikey had been dragging you past just two weeks earlier. This was definitely a more uptown area compared to where the bike shop was, you noted, the stores though all closed at this hour were steadily getting larger and more luxurious the further you and Koko strolled down deserted streets.

“It’s so quiet,” you found yourself musing out loud, earning a soft exhale from the other. 

You rarely venture to this part of Tokyo City, it being well out of your usual sphere of life with good reason, though even with the handful of visits under your belt, the difference between day and night was still starkly visible. A flood of business suits and their occupants busy on the phone, with the rare occasional student weaving their way through the crowd, these streets were hardly catered to a younger audience, the prices well out of the range of what any student could afford, and you would assume the same, even more so in fact at night. The last thing you would expect to find here would be a karaoke, but perhaps you simply missed it before.

“This way,” Koko tugged you through an unassuming door, tucked neatly between two shopfronts and one you would have completely glazed over. Up a dimly lit stairway and with a light knock from your friend, the well-worn steel door opened to reveal a backdrop of high ceilings and a chandelier, framing an elegantly-dressed lady ushering the two of you in, the door swinging shut behind you with a quiet click. You felt your jaw dragging across the floor, eyes glancing around and taking in as much as you could. What even was this place?

Shiny, polished granite floors sparkled with specks of yellow reflected from the dim lights above, the walls trimmed tastefully with gold and decorated with flourished wallpapers. The crystal vase in which an enormous bouquet of flowers had been professionally arranged, atop a spotless dark wood counter, combined with the staff here wearing full suits, was all rather intimidating.

Vaguely noting Koko saying something to the lady who had welcomed you at the door, his words blending into the soft classical background music, you were only grounded by the fact that your hand was still laced with his as you shrunk shyly behind him. Needless to say, you felt extremely out-of-place, dressed in nothing more than your usual outing attire having expected a simple date. Were they going to kick you out?

Not just yet fortunately, as you were led down a velvet-walled hallway instead, lined with doors that ran the entire length, before being ushered into the room right at the end. Koko had stepped into the booth first, holding the door open as you quickly followed suit, and much to your relief, the inside looked similar enough to a regular karaoke room. Letting out a sigh of relief, you settled on the sofa, patting the area next to you. “I thought it was going to be so different,” you admitted, snuggling in close to Koko as he sat down next to you. “The outside looks so fancy.”

Said boy laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over to grab two microphones off their stands. “I thought it would be better since it's unlikely you’ll be found here.” By your Toman friends, that is.

“Not that I don’t like it,” you hastily added, accepting the device from Koko. “It’s lovely, thank you. And I doubt they know this place even exists.”

“No way,” the financier rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from you. That goes without saying. “Come on, pick a song, I’ll order us some drinks.”

‎

Time slipped through your fingers, the minutes flying by without your notice. Though you barely had a sip of alcohol (Koko refused to let you have any more than a taste of his cocktail), you were sure that you were giddy enough from giggling the entire time, your newest plushie sitting snug on your lap. 

”I still can’t believe you managed to nail that song!” You laughed out, lightly tapping on the black-haired boy’s arm as you carefully stepped across the curb. “I sounded completely off, I swear.”

“No way,” Koko disagreed, a tinge of red brushed across both cheeks as his gaze fell away from yours, though from the alcohol or otherwise, you couldn’t quite tell. He has had several drinks, after all. “You were great.”

Definitely the alcohol, you mused to yourself, squeezing his hand lightly as you gracefully ignored his voice trailing-off. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight, Koko.” And you meant it - with everything that had been going on at home and with the Toman boys, you truly did need this break from the hum and drum of regular life, even if you didn’t know it before. “I really had fun.”

No response, and none was needed, the other only returning the squeeze of your hand, face still turned away from yours. Strolling down the quiet street, it was late into the night, way past the time that you were usually already tucked into bed, your lights turned off and usually accompanied by one (or more) of the Toman founders. Yet your life these past months have been anything but usual, and having been unable to see Koko without getting him into unmeasurable amounts of trouble that would most likely end up with him in the hospital, you did miss him dearly. You will deal with the consequences of a lack of sleep tomorrow, you determined.

The music of yester-hours still buzzing in your ears and a hum under your breath, it would have been a perfect ending to your night if all the excitement ended there.

“Hey assfaces!” 

A sudden loud voice from behind that reverberated across the silent night had you jump a foot into the air like a startled cat, and you whirled around to locate the source of the disturbance. Koko, though, seemed barely bothered, his light tugs at your hand urging you to keep walking before trouble found the two of you. Too little, too late; your paths were quickly being blocked by several punks with aggressive hairstyles that you quickly identified as delinquents, though they didn’t seem to have a uniform of any sort, with the attire consisting of a mix of ruffled school uniforms and streetwear. “Strolling through my territory, huh?!”

Your heart skipped a beat - did they know who you were? Were they looking for Koko? No, that couldn’t be it. You decided that being friendly couldn’t go wrong, maybe it’s just a case of mistaken identity. “Hello,” you greeted. “Can we help you?”

A jeer rippled through the crowd in response, and you shrunk back. That was obviously the wrong move. Worse still, your voice seemed to have triggered a memory recall. “I’ve seen you somewhere before,” the seeming group leader muttered, squinting as he leaned in towards you. 

The grip Koko had on your hand tightened ever so slightly even as the expression on said boy’s face remained relaxed, almost as if bored. He must have gone through this multiple times, you reckoned, as you tried to shift away from the other.

“Ah,” the recognition settled into the other’s eyes as he pushed his face into your personal space, and you recoiled at the spit flying out from his mouth at you. “It's the shitbag always hanging off of Mikey, aren’t ya you little thing?”

Uh oh.

Another wave of sneering washed through the gang, though this time, the scorn was audible.

“I got beaten up by those Toman fuckers last week!” “One of them burned my bike!” “He stole my lunch!”

Your heart dropped into your gut. Fuck. You never thought you would be recognized.

The head delinquent’s smirk only grew larger as the displeasure boiled over into calls for Toman’s death, and he made to grab at your arm. “You’re quite the cute thing. Those fuckers have good taste. I think I’ll have some fun fir-”

A loud crack! - and you whirled around to the sight of a delinquent crumpling to the ground, clearly having lost consciousness. And there was Koko, calmly withdrawing his fist, simply not having the disrespect. “I rather you pick on someone your own size,” he stated, as if it was another usual day.

Time seemed to have frozen for a second, with the rest of the delinquents present turning almost robotically to glance between Koko and their downed buddy, the moment bringing with it an unexpected peace. But alas, it did not last as pandemonium quickly broke back out, the hoodlums sent into an uproar. “I WANT BOTH OF THEM DEAD!” The gang leader roared.

Koko shoved you. “Run!” He yelled, as he started beating down whoever he could reach. “Get to safety!”

You took off, drawing half the crowd with you, that distinctive side-swept mob of black hair quickly disappearing behind a wall. Fuck.

‎

Shit shit shit- your feet were all but flying over the pavement at this point as you sprinted down the street as fast as you could, taking random rights and lefts in an attempt to shake off your pursuers. But alas, enraged delinquents weren’t as easy to lose as you had hoped, and the stomp of their boots echoing behind you only ate away at your gut more and more. The light of the streetlamps overhead flashed and disappeared as you bolted through each and every circle of illumination, the environment all but a blur - you were sure you were completely lost at this point, though all your mind was urging you to just keep running.

What on earth were you going to do now? What could you do?

Your thoughts wandered back to Koko whom you had abandoned on the main street as you took another shark right, and your heart clenched, the guilt already starting to gnaw away at your gut. The last glimpse you had, he had been surrounded by so many of those fierce delinquents; yes, he had taken one of those builds down easily, but with opponents of such numbers? Maybe you should have stayed, but you didn’t want Koko to have to not only fight but also watch over a useless you. And, you tried to reason, with you running off, you at least have managed to draw some of the crowd away to chase after you.

But now that you were on the run, easily recognized by the self-declared rivals of the Tokyo Manji Gang, you were no doubt only creating more trouble for Mikey and the rest of your friends. No matter what you decided, no matter what you did, you only seemed to drag more and more people you claim to care about into the mess that was your life. 

Turning down yet another side alley, your lungs were beginning to burn from effort, every breath you took becoming heavier and heavier as your calves yearned for relief. You couldn’t recall the last time you had to assert such consistent effort, but you urged yourself on, forcing yourself past your limits as the adrenaline rush slowly ebbed away. You needed a place to hide and rest, somewhere safe - but where could you go? 

Bursting out back onto a main street, it was a familiar white awning that caught the corner of your eye, and though now folded up, you could recognize the partially hidden words and logo anywhere. S.S Motor…you weren’t sure if anyone was still in the shop at this time of night, but it wasn’t like you really had any other choice now. The white awning was calling to you as if it was your salvation as you closed the distance in under a minute, slamming straight into the locked front door. Damn. The door wasn’t going to give way no matter the amount of desperate rattling, and you should have known better, yet here you were, wasting precious time.

Letting go of the worn brass handle, it was the bloodthirsty calls for your blood growing nearer and nearer, accompanied by thunderous footsteps, that had you hesitate to leave the minute safety that the indent of the shop doors allowed you, with each precious second passing decreasing the amount you would have had to continue your escape. But even if you wanted to, your body was already at the point of giving up - you were physically incapable of running any further, your legs urging you to give up as you doubled over, pressing your hands against your knees in a bid to catch your breath. This was it, you supposed. You were going to make more trouble for Mikey and the rest, and probably get beat up in the process.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves, and turned around. No, this was not the end. You weren’t going to give up so easily and disgrace your Toman friends here. You had fists just like them after all, you could at least put up some resistance.

The click of a lock opening had relief that flooded into your system when your name was called by a recognizable name. Looking down at you with furrowed abyss eyes was none other than Shinichiro, that signature bluish-gray overalls of his tied still around his waist, spanner in hand. “What ya doing here at this time?”

”Chased,” was all you could hurriedly say in the time you had, as you glanced backwards at a roar that sounded just a turn away. “CanIcomeinplease?”

Shinichiro seemed to understand almost immediately. “Hide and call the police,” he grimaced, holding the door open and allowing you duck in under his arm. But much to your surprise, the older man didn’t follow you inside, instead stepping outside to block the path and line of sight of the horde of delinquents who have finally caught up to you. “Can I help you?”

Scurrying behind a motorcycle and rolling up into a ball in an attempt to make yourself smaller, your shaking hands could barely grasp your small phone without almost instantly dropping it, and you struggled to make sense of the keypad through teary eyes as you followed the commotion outside through the commotion alone, scared to give any visible indication of your presence to the angry gangsters outside.

Demands for Shinichiro to step aside, to bring you out to them, the threats of death and torture, and all the while the man was attempting to calm the mob and diffuse the situation. He was depending on you, you tried to tell yourself, finally punching in the emergency hotline, the dialing and connecting noises sounding as if they were echoing through the whole shop and not just in your ear, as if those ruthless hooligans outside could hear.

But they must have sensed your panic, your fear like a predator in the dark woods. A scuffle, and your heart sank like an anchor as a loud clunk rang out through the dead silence of the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. Grabbing the nearest tool, you flung yourself out from your hiding spot, and sprinted towards the shop exit.

‎

‎

Your hands were still shaking as the blue and red lights of emergency responders illuminated the once-quiet neighborhood around you, the foil blanket that the paramedics had wrapped around you doing little to stop the cold from seeping in. Seated just outside of the parameter of the yellow crime scene tape that now lined the parameter of S.S Motor, you barely registered the policeman attempting to talk to you to get your witness statement, his words flowing like water past you, reverberating into an inaudible distant mess in your head. Those lifeless eyes were all you could see, that accusatory stare that haunted you no matter how hard you tried to push it away. The ambulance had already taken your victim away, the first responders claiming that he was still breathing and that they could still save him, but Shinichiro-san? 

He was already cold when the first sirens arrived.

And it was in this broken state that Mikey finally stumbled across you, his phone gripped tight in one hand. Black, empty eyes wide with what could only be shock as he took in the chaos that had unfolded outside of his older brother’s shop, his gaze eventually falling on you, a trembling and responseless form on the sidewalk, a splatter of blood across your once-pristine clothes. In an instant, the Toman President had pulled you to your feet and straight into a tight hug, your face pressed tight into the crook of his neck, much to the surprise of the officer. 

He didn’t need to say more. The last of whatever control you had left fell apart, and the tears trailed down your face, the hiccups uncontrollable. “M-mikey,” you wailed into his skin, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt as the past hour flashed in the back of your eyes. “I-I’m-”

“What happened?” The blond-haired boy’s hair was soft, hoarse, the disbelief clearly tinting his words. It couldn’t be Shinichiro underneath that cover, could it? It couldn’t be. But that call, this scene.

“I killed him,” you whispered out, pulling away, as you looked back down at your trembling hands. “H-he attacked Shinichiro-san, so I…I-”

There was only one covered body, yet two weapons. Mikey pulled away, eyes staring at you, trying to read your thoughts. You couldn’t have killed Shinichiro-san; so who? 

Those five minutes were burned into your mind. You standing from behind the motorbike to find one of the delinquents with a blood-splattered steel pipe in hand, and Shinichiro sprawled out on the pavement right in front of his shop, the blood trickling down the side of his head; something washing over you as you had grabbed the heavy wrench with two hands and bursting through the shop doors, swinging the tool with all your might. The connecting blow that reverberated through your bones, and the other continuing to stand for a moment longer, swaying, staring blankly at you before crumpling to the floor. The rest of the ruffians dispersed as the authorities approached, leaving you behind trying desperately to administer first aid and CPR to Shinichiro, all the while fervently trying to ignore the other boy downed by your hand.

“I killed him,” you mumbled again, your voice haunted as the tears flowed once more. “I-I didn’t mean to- I swear-”

But the last thing Mikey could care about now was some nobody. “What happened to Shinichiro?” He repeated, this time more firmly, both hands gripping you and pinning your arms to your side. “Why him?”

“Protecting me. Th-they’ve seen me with Toman…”

Mikey audibly snarled. “And why were you here? Why aren’t you at home?!” The boy all but shouted at you, shaking you vigorously. You couldn’t blame him. It was all your fault.

Your mind jumped to Koko, where you had left him fighting that group of gangsters back along the shopping street. You couldn’t get another into trouble - not when you had committed the ultimate scene. And with the turmoil boiling in your stomach, you did something you never thought you had the stomach to. The tears started once more as you pressed your face into Mikey’s jacket, fist clenching around the white fabric. “Was looking for a job so I-I can move out,” the lie slipped out from your lips, each word burning your tongue as you mumbled out. “Th-they said they pay well.”

A murderer. You thought you would be better, better than the clusterfuck that was your family. You had tried to be better, striving to be kind, thoughtful, open-hearted. Yet here you were, you thought bitterly. The rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

The policeman seemed to have heard enough, one strong hand coming to rest on your shoulder as the other shook Mikey off of you. “You need to come with me to the station.”

A liar and a murderer.

#tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #baji x reader #mitsuya x reader #kazutora x reader #pah chin x reader #mitsuya takashi #draken x reader #kazutora #sano manjiro #keisuke baji #draken #kokonoi hajime #kokonoi x reader #shinichiro #inupi seishu #shion madarame #yandere platonic mikey #cheesus drabbles

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was something living inside of your chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.

But it was hurting anyway.

And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.

You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.

There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.

When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.

You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.

“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”

You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.

This was stupid.

But you were stubborn.

You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.

Yea.

Joe could just leave.

You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.

 But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.

You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.

Find Joe.

Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.

And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.

The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.

He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.

You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.

“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”

“Pause?”

“Mhm.”

Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.

Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.

Me too, Joe thought.

Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.

He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.

He’d tell you in the morning.

Joe was going to tell you in the morning.

He would.

When Joe woke up, you were gone.

Fucking figures, Joe thought.

The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.

Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.

But it was fine.

There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.

Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.

After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.

Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.

And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.

It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.

Might as well act like last night actually happened.

“Sorry about last night, mate,”

“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.

“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.

It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.

But Josh was relaxed about it.

“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”

And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?

The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.

“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.

“Ah, well… you know,”

No, actually, Josh didn’t know.

Which was good.

Joe didn’t really want him to know.

Joe didn’t really want to explain.

Couldn’t really explain.

Where the fuck would he even begin?

“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”

Joe had to suppress a smile.

Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.

“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”

Joe drank his coffee and nodded.

“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”

Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.

Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.

Josh talked where you... well, you did not.

“Did she cry?”

He wanted to know.

“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”

That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.

It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.

You split the fridge?!

What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!

When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.

Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.

Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?

Probably not, he guessed.

Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.

You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.

Fine.

Fine.

It was fine.

You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.

Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.

You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.

You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.

For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.

“Morning run?”

You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.

Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.

That was meant to mean something.

You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.

“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.

Joe followed.

“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”

It went ignored.

This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.

Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.

Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.

“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.

It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.

You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.

You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?

Felt unfair.

You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.

Joe would get the hint, you thought.

He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.

Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.

You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.

You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.

Joe tried.

He really tried.

You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.

Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.

Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.

Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.

You handled the close eye-contact fine.

Handled the cupping of your face fine.

And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.

Was there truly no budging?

Was this… was this it?

Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.

You’d never talked about that.

Had never mentioned it.

Hadn’t labeled it.

You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?

He just wanted you to talk.

You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.

The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.

Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.

Something changed.

Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.

You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.

You’d never shared a shower before.

Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.

“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.

“I know.”

“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”

And, fuck.

Something snapped into Joe’s chest.

Something swelled and popped.

He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.

“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”  

You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.

You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.

“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”

Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.

You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.

He hoped you believed him.

You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.

So he did.

It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.

Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.

He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.

Joe pushed you.

Joe had been pushing you.

He shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

No more making you meet him halfway.

Joe was going to wait for you.

He would.

It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.

Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.

“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.

Joe saw.

Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.

“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.

“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.

“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.

“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.

You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.

It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.

It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.

It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.

You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.

Were just close, but more.

Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?

Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.

Didn’t really want to either.

As long as you knew. As long as you understood.

And you did. The proof was in the pudding.

Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.

Maybe someday, they could meet.

Have a chat.

Talk things through.

Or not.

They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?

They’d call you idiots.

And, yea you were.

But it was fine.

You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.

You were all that mattered.

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #reinvent love #define close #explain us

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike (Part 6 BONUS ROUND)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, before falling into the arms of the demon himself. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, Alastor X reader, crying!reader, blood loss, antlers, erotic cannibalism, they/them pronouns used, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series links: This is now a series! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN

Bonus content under the cut!

You lay on your back in Alastor’s bed, watching the cameras explode. “Should we stop?”

“Oh? You miss your audience?” Alastor’s eyes were half-lidded and hungry as he leaned in close, his body caging yours. “You’re more of a showman than I thought.”

“You’re enough of an audience for me,” you said, and the expression that crossed Alastor’s face could have been a genuine smile.

“Oh, you are a delicate thing, a fawn.” Alastor pressed his face against your cheek, not seeming to care when he came back with his nose and lips smeared with blood. “I had hoped to keep you until the proper time, to spare you this.” He indicated your antlers, still bleeding from the torn velvet.

“Things didn’t work out that way.”

“No,” Alastor’s eyes were downcast, briefly, his bloody smile unwavering. He admitted no fault of his own, no mention of his tantrum, or the way you had turned your deal on him to stop him in his tracks. “But to not have you now would be a waste. A travesty.”

“Have me?”

“Flesh is precious,” said Alastor. His lips brushed your damaged antler, where velvet was peeled back and bone exposed, and you shivered at the sensation. You had been half hard before, but now you were fully hard, cock straining at the confines of your clothes, cunt aching the dull ache of being unfilled. The blood loss was starting to take its toll too; a dizziness that flowed through you in waves.

Alastor’s red tongue darted out, brushing against bare bone, and the sensation was like electrical connection, a caress over the entirety of your nervous system. Alastor must have felt it too, because he lingered there, tongue gliding over exposed bone, tasting you. Your claws found his sleeves and grabbed, sharp tips piercing fabric, and you felt Alastor’s moan through your whole body, his voice thick with popping and distortion.

“Your taste,” Alastor murmured, lips still so close to your antlers that you could feel their brush as he spoke. “Incomparable.”

It was then that he fastened his lips around the strip of velvet that hung loose where you had clashed with him, sucking and pulling. It was a strange sensation; no pain but the nerve endings in the piece of flesh very much live, feeling the penetration as Alastor’s teeth pierced it, the pull of his lips as he eased it away from the bone. A fresh rivulet of blood ran down your branch, soaking into your hair and trickling down your neck, and Alastor paused to lick the exposed bone, the sensation running straight to your core again.

You whimpered, and Alastor glanced down, eyes taking in first your disheveled state, and then your painfully obvious erection. “That much blood loss, and still you manage that?” he asked.

“Can’t be helped,” you said, pretending stoicism.

“Oh, I think it can,” said Alastor, his bloodied smile twitching smug, and the tentacles he had sprouted for the benefit of the cameras a moment before crept round, tips coming to rest at your thighs, and then at your waist. With surprising dexterity, he used them to undo your fly, pulling your trousers and underwear off over your hips. “Look,” he breathed, fingers stroking between the tines of your antlers as he tossed your pants over the side of the bed with a tentacle. “No hands.”

You didn’t have the breath in your lungs to tell him that his mouth on your antlers alone was enough to make you cum; each touch quivering through the whole of you, the resonance of having him close thrumming through your spreading branches to your core, the brush of his antlers against yours electrifying.

One tentacle wrapped itself comfortably around the shaft of your cock as the other nudged your thighs apart, its tip stroking your inner thighs as it found its way to your entrance.

“So wet,” groaned Alastor, as the tentacle found your cunt, his mouth on your antler pausing as he drew a shaky breath.

“You can feel through those?” you asked.

“Like fingers,” Alastor admitted, lifting his mouth briefly from your velvet as he pushed the tentacle into you, the other squeezing your shaft. He was hard in his pants but made no move to free himself, his attention instead on his meal, his tongue a resonant signal on freshly exposed bone as he lapped at you, his breath growing uneven.

You gave a noise that was something close to a mewl, hips bucking as Alastor’s tentacle began to fuck you. Already dizzy from the blood loss, the sensation came close to overwhelming you, tears beading in the corners of your eyes.

Alastor tilted his head, catching his antlers on yours, and the sensation made your cunt twitch. “I do like those expressions of yours,” he said, his smile indulgent as he slowed the pace of the tentacles. If you’d had a little more strength in your body, you would have fucked yourself on them, wild and undignified, but you were perilously close to passing out, so you surrendered yourself to the pace he set, crying out as the tentacle curled pleasantly inside you, Alastor shifting it until it hit the places that made your screams the most fervent.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to sensation as blood trickled over your face. Alastor’s mouth and tentacles worked in time with each other, his tongue singing across your nerves as his tentacles pumped your cock and plunged wetly into your cunt, each thrust ending at an apex of perfect sweetness. He sucked torn velvet from the tines of your branches and you found you no longer cared for decorum, your voice forming half words, almost words, begging words, Alastor’s name, broken.

Alastor kissed you, his mouth tasting of blood, of your blood, antlers clashing with yours. Not the brief touch that you’d had back in the radio tower, but true contact. Your freshly exposed bone against his ancient, steel-strong branches. You could feel his pulse in your own throat, his arousal, aching and painful. You shivered, moaning into his mouth as he remained there, antlers against yours, pinning you to the bed as the tentacle inside you hit sweetness upon sweetness, the one wound around your cock pulsating in time with the first as it jerked you off.

“Alastor-” you gasped as he broke the kiss, smiling down at you.

“Come for me,” he said simply, and you could not resist his command. You came, undignified and whimpering, making a mess of the clothing Alastor hadn’t bothered to remove as your cock twitched, your cunt pulsing round the tentacle inside you. Alastor shivered, his antlers still locked with yours, his eyes fluttering closed, pulse quickening, and you suspected he’d found his own end too.

You remained together like that for a while, blood drying, fluids cooling, and neither of you particularly caring for anything but the moment. You fought to remain conscious, blood loss making your vision swim, but you were only dimly aware of Alastor’s kiss on your forehead, his arm slipping under your back.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #antlerplay #lookalikeposting #antlers antlers antlers

[pinksturniolo]

Angels Like You and Demons Like Me - A Chris Sturniolo AU Story

Part 1 of 2

Christopher is a demon exiled from the underworld after committing one of the most unacceptable acts Hades will never tolerate. Falling in love with a mortal from Earth. Now he is doomed to wander the Heavens alone, where no god, angel or even siren is allowed to associate with him. He is in agony, in suffering. Until one red tipped, gold plated arrow is accidently pierced into the back of his shoulder, permanently subjecting him to a love spell.

Cupid is an angel with the power of desire, love, and attraction. She is the daughter of Venus, Goddess of love and Mars, God of war. She is tasked with matchmaking all the beings in the Heavens, each arrow she shoots having a spell of true love. Once they are pierced by her arrow, and they successfully unite with their soulmate, their bond is one that lasts forever. She never misses her aim and every immortal that’s she’s struck have been blessed with true love.

 But when her love arrow accidentally strikes a demon, all the rules she thought she knew are turned upside down.

content warnings: no smut, mostly fluff, angst, based on ancient mythology, angelxdemon, descriptions of depression, grief, loss and death.

my submission to the bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge!

@bratzforchris @nicksbestie

ty for creating this challenge <3

the 4 story elements i picked:

genre - fluff, angst

trope - angel x demon

location/setting: alternate universe (au)

word count: 2,658

Christopher lies in the garden of Eden atop Mount Olympus, a large meadow of soft grass and small white and purple flowers, with tall evergreen trees. The warmth of the sun shines down on his bare skin, having removed his black suit earlier once he entered the garden. Demons don’t typically feel warm or cold. They don’t typically feel anything. But if he focuses hard enough, lets his eyes close and just listens to the steady beat of his heart, he can feel the breeze in the air and the rays on his chest.

He lets the tears roll down his cheeks. He may be able to relax in the soft meadow, but he will never be able to erase the memory of her. The only being he has ever loved. His heart aches every time he thinks of her face, her laugh, her soft voice. She was pure, innocent, the sweetest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

She was a mortal human from the dimensions of Earth. In the universe of Heaven and Hell, it is forbidden to associate with any mortals on any dimension or timeline. They are considered insignificant, and beneath the powers of the gods and goddesses. Immortal beings find entertainment in their silly lives, watching them from time to time whenever they are bored. However, Christopher disagreed with their ways from the moment he was taught of the ancient rules and rituals.

His parents were mortals, who were ordinary beings like the rest of the humans on Earth. Their love was true and deep, creating a beautiful baby boy whose soul was so pure that it captured the attention of Zeus, the ruler of the Heavens. And it is known from the beginnings of creation that Hades, the ruler of the underworld called Hell, is his immortal enemy.

Zeus and Hera longed for centuries to have another child, a god they could raise to be powerful and respected. So, when Zeus saw the potential in Christopher, he took him from Earth, giving him the power of everlasting immortality. As soon as Hades heard the news, he was instantly jealous of Zeus and still heartbroken over the death of his great love Persephone. He stole the baby, raising him in the depths of the underworld, creating one of the most powerful and strongest demons.

Once Christopher learned of his past, he developed a hate for Hades, Zeus, and every other god or angel in his dimension, whether they were pure or evil. He despised every single one of them, for being so hypocritical and unfair. They all made fun of humans for being emotional and silly, when in actuality they were just the same.

He made a vow to himself to never fall in love, and to never get involved in human lives.

That is until one day, Hades sent him on a quest to retrieve a lost soul from Earth, a nasty evil soul that belonged to the underworld. And he stumbled upon a female mortal, forgetting all about his mission. He was struck by her beauty and her kindness. For days, he observed her, watching how she treated other people and the dedication she had to her friends and family. He longed to be with her, to be mortal again.

After a few years, he finally decided he would reveal himself to her. There were certain ways an immortal could talk to a human, and he was willing to risk it all for her.

But Hades caught him before he could even start.

He struck her down as soon as he figured out what Christopher’s plans were, taking her life.

He begged and pleaded with Hades, groveling at his feet, screaming and crying until his throat was raw and he was out of breath. He begged him to bring her back, even if it meant he wouldn’t be with her. He never meant for this to happen; he simply wanted her to have her life back. She didn’t deserve this cruel fate.

But of course, Hades had no remorse. And he was furious with Christopher for disobeying him. So, he banished him to the one place he knew he would be miserable in.

Heaven. It’s where he’s ordered to live the rest of his immortal days at, surrounded by beautiful clouds, mountains, flowers and forest. Vast coasts and immense colosseums, miles and miles of blue sky and castles full of carved marble and grand rooms filled with silk and cotton.

Love is all around, in every being. And he loathes it. From the warm sunlight that shines and filters through the canopy of trees in the forest as he dozes off during the day to the glowing moonlight that glitters across Poseidon’s Sea, casting a blueish tint on the sand as he lays upon the beach at night. Even the yellow butterflies that flutter in pairs around him make him sick.

He used to have an appreciation for the beauty in things, to want more than the dark, lonesome and tragic depths of the underworld he came from. But now, ever since he suffered the grief of losing the one thing he had ever known to love, he had no such desire for happiness. He longed to be back in the pit of lost souls and madness that was ruled by Hades. At least he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of love all around him and could wallow in the self-misery and sadness by himself.

He searched for his lost love, hoping fate would have turned her soul into an angel and sent her up here, but that was almost a decade ago and he had no luck in ever seeing her again.

And so, he spends his days drowning in depression and lost in his misery. But at least he can feel the warmth of the sun.

Cupid watches from her place behind the trees, her feet dipping into the cool water of the lake. She observes with curiosity as the tears fall from his eyes, the light bouncing off his smooth skin. His large, black wings are spread out on the grass as he lays in it, the muscles of his arms and shoulders carved out like the sculptures in her favorite colosseum. She’s seen demons before, most of them rude and intimidating. But she senses a strong purity in him, a longing for love that she can’t quite figure out.

He’s exceptionally beautiful and she can’t help but continue to stare at him, intrigued by his childlike aura. He’s asleep now, his face peaceful except for the worry furrowed into his eyebrows. He’s dreaming of something. Or someone.

Suddenly, her bow pulses with purpose, and she gets the familiar urge of striking him with an arrow. She doesn’t though, still sitting against the oak of the tree and swishing her feet in the water.

Since she became of age, Cupid’s job is to be the sole matchmaker of the immortals in Heaven. She observes the gods and other angels, and when her intuition lets her know it’s time to strike, she pierces them with her love arrow, entrapping them in her spell.

It only hurts them for a moment, but then they are filled with a feeling of bliss and happiness. They are drawn to their one true love and well… Fate takes care of the rest.

Her spell is not just some silly party trick. It invokes real feelings that are brought to the surface by her power. It opens the mind and heart, allowing your true destiny to play out.

But it’s never allowed her to strike a demon. Firstly, demons are not usually allowed in Heaven, unless it’s a special circumstance. Even so, angels are forbidden to interact with one. So, she is more than a little confused when she feels her intuition tell her to hit him with an arrow.

But the feeling slowly subsides, and she chalks it up to the curiosity she had while watching him. Demons couldn’t love, especially here.

She flies away after a while, in search of her next lover to help. And when she slips away to sleep that night, she finds herself dreaming of the demon’s face and the way he cried so beautifully in the garden of Eden.

❧ꨄ❧༒❧ꨄ❧༒

Christopher sits on the cold rocks of the beachy shore, chipping away at the wood he’s been carving into with his small metal knife. Shavings fall to his feet, the pile growing larger on the sand. It’s a cool night, the moon pulling the tide in, the salty breeze flowing through his hair.

He feels different today, like the hole in his chest is slowly repairing itself. It’s only taken about 10 years but even slow progress is still progress. He hums an old tune to himself, his fingers nimble and constant on the craft in his hands when he feels the pair of eyes on him again.

“I know you’re there.” He speaks aloud.

He’s felt a presence near him for the past few days and his powers tell him it’s an angel. The name he’s unsure of but he knows it’s there. He’s allowed it to be, going about his day and not minding, but now he’s getting a little irritated at their prying gaze. The one moment he’s finally starting to feel peace and it’s as if they’re intruding.

He hears some rustling behind him and feels the presence move closer. As soon as he does, he whips around at incredible speed, his wings tensed up in defense and throws his knife out in their direction, intending to pierce their heart.

It flies past the angel’s head, somehow deflected and she lifts her bow immediately, releasing an arrow without hesitation. It pierces into his left shoulder, and he doubles over in pain. Her eyes widen in fear as she realizes what she’s just done .

She flits to him, her wings trembling and hands shaking as she hovers over him. He clutches his shoulder for a few seconds before he lifts his head. He gasps in shock, once he looks into her green and gold eyes, his heart stuttering in his chest.

She takes his shocked reaction as one caused by the pain of her arrow digging into his flesh and she places a hand on his shoulder, pulling the arrow out. It dissipates into the air, vanishing within the blink of an eye. The expression on her face is full of regret and empathy, a hint of embarrassment as she presses her fingers over the wound. “Oh my…. Please forgive me. I was only defending myself against your sudden attack. I didn’t expect you to wield your knife so quickly.”

Her voice is like the plucks of a harp ringing out, soft and light. His eyes dance across her face, and he almost doesn’t believe what he can see.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her brows furrowing in confusion at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, I- I’m sorry, you just… look exactly like someone I used to know.” He responds, and he notices the bow she holds in her other hand. “You must be Cupid.”

She nods and removes her grasp from his shoulder, his wound now healed. “Do you feel… any different?”

She hopes to the gods that she hasn’t permanently damaged his soul. If she were to strike any being with an incorrect intention, they’re at risk for death or even worse, to live without ever finding a soulmate. As far as the rules for demons go… she has no idea.

“I feel… strangely happy.” He says and she can’t help the smile that graces her face. “Well, then you’re in luck. My powers seemed to have worked, even on you, Demon. I thought your kind was incapable of love?” She speaks honestly and moves to sit next to him upon the rocks, tucking her bow away.

He chuckles and turns towards her, resting his chin in his hand, his arm atop his knee as he looks into her eyes again. “There are very few things my kind are incapable of. Unfortunately, love is not one of them.”

As he speaks, she realizes now who he is. She’s been watching him again for the past few days, hiding away shyly but intrigued to know who he was. Where he came from and why he was here. Why his energy was so incredibly endearing.

“You are the lost son of Zeus… Christopher.” She tilts her head, taking in his appearance closely now that she was next to him instead of hovering in the shadows.

He wore his dark suit, black gloves on his hands and his even darker wings folded against his back. His hair curled in wisps around his face. And his eyes were bluer than the ocean, even in the black of the night.

“You are correct.” He answers, and his eyes move down her body after he sees her examine him. She is dressed in all white, a flowy gown of fabric draped around her body, and her fluffy white wings expand across her shoulders. She is radiant, glowing with purity. Matching white lace socks and gloves adorn her, her hair in waves down her back.

“Are you not curious to return to him?” she asks, and he looks away now, a sad expression on his face. He shakes his head softly. “No. He has long forgotten of me, busy with his other children. Besides I am too… impure. I’m a demon after all.” He speaks in a somber tone. She is filled with empathy at the sadness pouring out of him in waves and suddenly feels tears fill her eyes.

Cupid can feel others’ emotions strongly. It is a curse and also a blessing, to feel so deeply. And she finds herself enamored with his beauty, his presence and she knows the words he speaks are genuine.

“In every angel a demon hides… and in every demon an angel strides.” She tells him, a few tears falling down her cheek and he looks up at her, surprised by her words. He watches the tears escape from her angel eyes, and before he can stop himself, he’s wiping them away gently with his thumb, the emotion in her gold and green hue of her stare tugging at his heart strings.

“There are many powerful things in this universe, Christopher. But love conquers all. And I have sensed it from you the moment I saw you resting upon the grass in Eden’s garden. Zeus may be the ruler of Heaven, but we are the rulers of our own hearts.”

Time seems to stand still as he takes in the words she speaks, his own tears threatening to spill. He traces his hand lightly down her face, brushing across her neck. He longed to feel her skin against his, his leather glove preventing him from the feeling. But he’s reminded of the hurt and pain that romance and strong feelings like this love she speaks of can bring.

He moves away from her, strong wings stretching out around him. “You are too pure, angel. I thank you for your kind words. But I must go now.” He says and flies away before he can change his mind, retrieving his knife buried into the rock it hit earlier.

She watches him leave with sadness and sinks her feet into the sand. She now wishes she would’ve never come to the beach tonight and thinks to herself that whoever his soulmate is that she’s bound him to is extremely blessed.

It’s then that she notices a wooden carving in the sand next to her feet and picks it up with curiosity. She sees that it’s the face of a woman, her expression happy and familiar. He’s an artist, she thinks. His talent shows through in the details, the way he captures her beauty is breathtaking.

She decides to keep it, carrying it with her as she floats away into the night.

❧ꨄ❧༒❧ꨄ❧༒



a/n: part 2 will be out very soon. i really enjoyed creating this story! i love mythology and angels, and things like that so hope you like it too :)

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @jnkvivi @bambi-slxt @mattscoquette @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @sturnpooks @sturniololoco

#Spotify #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #angel x demon #chris sturniolo au #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x you #bratzfornick's 141 writing challenge

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it.

QL - Currently Watching

🇹🇭1000 Years Old [11/12] - I know some of you are enjoying this one and I'm glad. And I have no idea what the finale has in store for us but this is just not the show for me. One episode to go and I honestly can't remember the last time I was this unenthusiastic about a finale. It's not even that it's that bad, it's just incredibly boring to me. I'll update this tomorrow with my thoughts on the finale.

🇹🇭23.5 [8/12] - The main couple lost me but I love Aylin and Luna. View is a delight to watch and whenever they're on screen together I'm in heaven. Also... THE TEACHERS!!! THEY ARE GIVING THEM TO US! We are blessed.

🇯🇵25 Ji, Akasaka de [2/10] - I like it a lot. I'm doing my best to not compare it to 'I Became the Lead in a BL Drama' for obvious reasons, but the tone seems different enough. I like the aesthetic a lot and I really like their dynamic, at the beginning it reminded me of Kabe Koji a bit. I'm mildly obsessed with Shirasaki's eyes and facial expressions. And a 'secret' crush is usually a win with me.

🇰🇷Boys Be Brave [2/8] - So far so good. Gi Seop is obvisouly not the best boy but there's something about his energy on screen that is compelling to me. I really liked that Jin Woo was honest about his feelings and I like the 'I love you but I don't like you' dynamic a lot. The second couple gave me some ODS vibes so I'm bracing for some angst.

🇯🇵Living with him [3/8] - It's great. Much like what I said above, I love that things are out in the open so soon and honestly Natsukawa reaction to the confession being basically 'how can I help?' was amazing to me. Also for anyone interested, this one is being fansubbed which is good cause according to my dear @colourme-feral the subs are not good at all.

🇰🇷Love Is Like a Cat [2/12] - I'm waiting to binge this one. Didn't like how this started and the rhythm just isn't working for me.

🇹🇭My Stand-In [1/12] - Pretty is pretty. But I don't trust Thailand with high concept so I have reservations. I hope I'm wrong. I liked the first episode so we'll see.

🇹🇭Only Boo! [4/12] - Moo is my child and he must be protected at all costs. I'm fighting myself with the singing and dancing because I should not be enjoying it at all and yet he's so charming. I hope Book's character is not here to do what I think it is because that would seriously damper my enjoyment of this otherwise bright spot in my week.

🇹🇭We Are [2/12] - I like the group scenes. They all seem very comfortable with each other. The main couple is the least compelling to me, just nothing new or interesting to see there. Aou is great at the comedy and I'm enjoying Poon a lot. Overall this show just doesn't flow, it keeps jumping from scene to scene/couple to couple without much of a threat and so I'm not really connecting. @bengiyo said it best here when he said it's like watching the actors ig reels.

🇹🇼Unknown [11/12] - I still think it's an incredible show, the best one airing right now probably, but I have to admit that the sex scene was a blemish in my overall enjoyment of it. I saw both versions, and although the reedited one is better is still not good. I don't think it was the right tone for the moment nor for the characters. Also it just doesn't flow well and the sound drove me crazy.

QL - Finished

🇹🇭Deep Night - This one surprised me a bit. There was a refreshing amount of good communication and they gave the people what they wanted, poly and older lesbians. I wish there were more acrobatics and the editing was weird in places but overall it's an entertaining show.

🇰🇷Gray Shelter - This is weird one. Because I feel like I have to fill in the gaps myself and that just shouldn't be the case. I enjoyed the actors a lot, and Lee Jae Bin presence on screen kept me engaged for most of it. There is definitely potential here if they had the time to explore all the different elements. But this runtime it's just not enough to fully flesh out these characters and the complex issues it wants to tackle.

🇯🇵Love is Better The Second Time Around - Started great but lost itself by the end. I don't think it needed that external conflict by the end with the brother and the mother because they weren't on firm ground to begin with. If I were to make a list like this one by @lurkingshan I don't think Myiata and Iwanaga would make it there. Iwanaga was amazing to watch though. He pretty.

🇯🇵My Strawberry Film - One pining gay boy does not a bl make. With that said, even as a drama there's nothing interesting here.

🇹🇭To Be Continued - Meh. It was fine. I wish I had more of the side couple because Gumbie is adorable. Midway this was getting into The Promise territory, and while it's not that bad, and I guess the reason for the separation is a valid one, I don't think Achi being the 'bad guy' for most of the show actually makes sense.

Rose Watches OJBL

Junjou (2010) - Second chance romance. I liked it. It's a nice watch, nothing particularly outstanding or new about this one, although that's not really fair considering it's more than a decade old, but alas I've seen other versions of this particular type of bl. Nevertheless I liked the characters, specially Tozaki,

Athlete (2019) - The visuals were the best part for me. There are several things I like in this, the main actor does a really good job imo and I truly enjoyed the bar scenes. But it doesn't all come together for me. I don't have a problem with the ending as much as how we got there.

Other - Watched

This was a slow month for me. I started a new job and some other stuff happened so I haven't really been in the mood to watch new stuff. Mostly comfort watches and rewatches. Oh I did watch Heartbreak High S2. It was good.

That's it for right now. My ask box is always open. Wishing you all a wonderful holiday tomorrow💜

#rosy watchlist #1000 years old #23.5 degrees #at 25:00 in akasaka #living with him #Unknown the series #boys be brave #my stand in the series #only boo the series #we are the series #athlete 2019 #junjou pure heart #to be continued #gray shelter #my strawberry film #deep night #love is better the second time around #multi bl #Rose Watches OJBL #rose rambles

[itsruki]

Into The Spider's Web

MDNI, 18+ only

(girl i don't know how to tag or write any of this)

summery: izana is obsessed with you. he made a plan to make you submit to him, be addicted to him. slowly but surely until he fully ruined you.

will you see through him early enough?

TW: Masturbation, Mentioning of SA, Violence

Tags: Dom!Abusive!Izana x Sub!Naive!Reader

Chapter 1.

You meet Izana, and he swoons you at the right moment. It seems like he is always at the right place at the right time. Always with that smile of his.

Coincidence

It felt like a coincidence when you met him. You worked at a small 7/11 in Tokyo, just earning your loan to pay for college tuition. You were living in a small apartment with 2 roommates. One day, he bumped into you on your way to work. He helped you pick up your things and gave you a small smile. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" His voice was cold, but he gave you the sweetest smile. You blushed a little bit. He handed you your bag and your books. "What'cha reading, bunny?" The red color on your cheeks rose deeper as you answered with a small voice, "Just...just some books for college. It's for calculus," he smirked. "What a smart bunny!" Then you remembered that you were getting late for work, so you quickly bowed down and said, "Thank you for the kind words and the help. I'm sorry again for bumping into you. I am in a hurry. Goodbye!" and you walked off. He smiled after you, and you heard a faint chuckle. That was the first encounter.

The second encounter was when your shift just ended, a few nights later. You were ready to pack up and close off. You felt uneasy, like someone was watching you. It was already 2 a.m. when the shift ended. Your apartment isn't far from work, and you decided to just walk quickly. Once you closed up for the day, you began to walk. The uneasy feeling of being watched creeps closer and closer. You saw three shadowy figures moving closer to you. 3 men of about the same age. They started to surround you. One of them grabbed your hair and yanked it back, making you scream out in pain. You begged for mercy, though none is to be found. They pushed you against a wall. One of them began to try to unbutton your pants while the other one held you in place. You squinted your eyes shut, crying and praying for this to be over soon, when you then felt the grip loosen. A few moments later, you heard a familiar voice saying, "Are you okay, bunny?" It was Izana. The men that attacked you lay on the ground, blood covering their faces. It looks like Izana came just at the right time. He saved you, and you felt so safe now. He offered you a hug. You took it, and he held you for a moment. "Is it okay if I walk you home? It would be safer that way," you nodded. There was no way in hell you would walk home alone after all that. You were so thankful. He came just at the right time. He took you to your apartment, and once at the door, he smiled at you again. "I will take my leave now, Bunny. Watch yourself next time. Be safe." you blush in a deep shade of pink. He turned around and took a few steps away from the door before you shouted at him, "Your name! What's your name?!" he turns around, half way, and smiles "izana, izana kurokawa" and then keeps walking. "izana.....kurokawa" you repeated in a faint whisper. He chuckled again as he walked away. That was encounter number 2.

After that encounter, you already couldn't think of anything else. izana kurokawa saved you. He was such a handsome man as well. His white hair and these Lilac eyes followed you in your dreams and through all kinds of fantasies.

You found yourself thinking about him...his voice and his eyes. One night, you woke up from a dream of him. His face was buried between your legs, his tongue latching on your folds as he kept calling you by his little nickname, Bunny. When you woke up, you were out of breath but still so unbelievably wet. You checked the time....5:27am. Your bangs are stuck to your forehead with sweat. Then, images of your dream popped back into your mind, and you gasped out a breathy moan. "I-izana~" you whispered his name. Your hands glided down your body, pulling up your PJ shirt, cupping your breasts, and pinching your nipples. Another moan. His face burned in your memories. "Izana~" again, his name rolled off your tongue. Your other hand slides down further, sliding inside your PJ shorts, rubbing your thigh as your eyes squint shut. You imagined his hand on your body. You imagined how he would rub your swollen Clit through your panties while you drew circles around it, moaning desperately. Your pants soaked themselves full of your juices as you rubbed up and down your covered pussy. You slid them to the side to finally get some relief. First, slowly and gently, you inserted 2 fingers and began to move them in and out. You coated them with your slic and threw your head back while trying to hold back moans, to not wake up your roommates. "Izana~" you moan again. Your hand moved into your bedside table, 2 fingers still buried in your pussy. From the bedside table, you pulled out your trusty vibrator. You turned it one and pulled out your fingers. You began to tease your clit with the buzzing vibrator and closed your eyes shut, moaning out and bucking your hips into the little wand vibrator. "Izana!" Your thoughts were filled with the remains of the dream. Slowly, you rubbed the wand up and down your slit to coat it with your juices, then pushed it inside your hole. The familiar sensation gave you the sensation you needed, but this night it's different. Your body tensed up as you moved the wand in and out of your drooling pussy. You're gasping and whining as you fucked your little pussy with the want, imagining his cock inside you, buried balls deep. Your breathing gets shallower, faster as you slowly approached the edge. You moved the wand faster and faster as you get closer and closer to your climax. Your legs shook and trebled as you couldn't stop saying his name over and over again. "Izana! Izana! Izana!" You kept fucking your pussy with the want while it was on max vibration until you couldn't hold back anymore "Izana! Izana! Iza-aaghhh!" and with that, you came. Your head was numb, and your body finally stoppend shaking as you panted. You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. …before you pass out in your slumber, his face is the last thing you think about. His name is on your lips before you drift to sleep. "Izana kurokawa"

#tokyo revengers smut #izana x reader #izana smut #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa smut

[silverflqmes]

may i please please please request an angeal x reader where angeal comes back to town to visit his mom and he takes the reader around where he lives for fun & his mom spills very embarrassing things about him? i love the fact that you write about angeal since he's on the rarer side of liking<3 thank you so much and have a nice rest of your day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄.

notes. hi hi anon, this is such a cute prompt, i hope my execution is to your liking<3 and i agree he fr is an underrated king, so i shall do my best to serve🫡

genre. fluff

angeal hewley x gn!reader.

the fresh air of banora reminded angeal of how much he had missed home, being among the smog of midgar as he’d been.

after weeks of being asked- urged to visit his hometown with his partner of seven months now, the first class SOLDIER had reluctantly taken a small leave of absence. a few days away from action couldn’t be too, too bad.

besides — his two friends promised to deal with his share of missions. so his worries lessened.

however, he still couldn’t help the nerves he had for how things would go with his mother. granted, she was incredibly eager in the letters she had written him and excited to be meeting you — his beloved. but that excitement was what worried angeal.. who knew what she would spill about him, he had all sorts of embarrassing memories! especially with genesis..

the teal eyed male prayed the house would be enough for you — he hadn’t exactly lived a life of luxury, so the space was small.. but cozy. he hoped you found it the same, despite the minimal space.

“what’s it like being home after so long? did you miss it??” your voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, a smile on your lips as he turned to face you with one of his own.

how did it feel, indeed.. “it’s always pleasant to be home, i haven’t been here in a good while.. though it hasn’t changed a bit.” he chuckled, gazing up at the overgrown arch of violet shapes, dangling from their branches. “looks like we came at the right time, too.”

it was none other the native fruit of his village.

for them to be in full harvest upon his arrival, must have been a sign that he was meant to be here, and with you, no less.

“woah, they’re purple!” you beamed in astonishment, wondering for a moment if you’d perhaps been color blind — but thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“despite their name, they’re called banora whites — or dumbapples, as some like to refer to them as well, for their irregular harvests.” angeal explained, a eyes softening a bit. “the best ones came from the tree that grew at genesis’ estate.” he mused, smiling fondly.

your eyes managed to catch the look on his face before you let out a thoughtful hum. “is that so? maybe we should bring some back for him! oh- and sephiroth too! i think they’ll both appreciate it a lot.” you laughed, taking ahold of your lover’s hand as you watched a line of houses come into view.

banora was small, but quaint. it felt like an honor to be there beside angeal — to have the privilege of being shown around the place he’d grown up in. you couldn’t help but feel special.

“think so?” he asked for certainty before letting out a snort. “perhaps they will. we can pick some tomorrow if you’d like, my mother’s likely going to keep us for the remainder of the day.” the first could recall her letters pressing for him to bring you by, never failing to bring you up since the very first letter he’d sent out confirming his relationship. “i hope that’s alright with you.”

blinking, you then nudged his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “are you kidding?? of course it is! i have got to meet your mom and thank her for bringing the literal most perfect man to have ever existed into the world!” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “so let’s not keep her waiting!”

shock painted his features before he shook his head in defeat, heaving an amused sigh as a rosy hue colored his cheeks. “as you wish..”

it hadn’t taken long for angeal and yourself to arrive at his doorstep, a combination of pleasant aromas invading your senses. just how much had his mother prepared..?

your boyfriend reached for the knob, holding the door open for you before closing it behind himself. “and we’re here.” he spoke up gently, removing the buster sword from his back to rest it against the wall. “i apologize if it’s not much.. but, it’s home.”

the space was relatively small, but cozy — it felt warm and homelike, somehow, despite having only just arrived there.

your lips parted to protest, wanting to say that it was perfect, only for a gasp to intercept you.

“a-angeal, could it be?” a voice chimed in, the sound of rushing water silencing as the dark haired woman in the kitchenette turned to face you both.

her eyes seemed to gloss over with tears as she made her way up to your lover, placing her hands on his cheeks tenderly. “my dearest son, oh how you’ve grown..” the woman whispered incredulously, smiling nostalgically. “it feels like only yesterday that you were just outside, running around with genesis.. now, you’ve returned as a strong, handsome SOLDIER, that has brought home the beloved he speaks of so highly in his letters.” her attention shifted to you as she took your hands in her own, squeezing them adoringly. “you must be y/n, goodness, you’re even more lovely in person! i trust that angeal has been treating you well?”

the male in question let out a breath, flushing a bit. “mother..”

a warmth spread through your chest as you fluttered your lashes before nodding rapidly. “t-that’s me! it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss hewley! rest assured that angeal has taken very good care of me thus far- i’m eternally grateful for him, so thank you for allowing me to date your son, and for inviting me here!” you bowed, wanting to express your appreciation as best as you could. should all go well, this would be your future mother in law!

it shocked her in all honesty. how had his silly son captured the heart of such a sweetheart?? truly, you were too good for this world!

“please, gillian is fine.” she assured you softly, wiping her tears before letting out a soft laugh. “i’m relieved to hear that my son has been well to you, i can worry less now, knowing that he is aware on how to treat his lover.” the charcoal haired woman sighed out contentedly before ushering you in. “ah- come in, make yourself comfortable! our humble abode may lack in space — but treat it as though it were your own. lunch will be ready shortly!”

the mako eyed male inclined his head, picking up your bags. “i’ll put these in my room. while i’d offer a tour, there isn’t much to show..” he chuckled awkwardly, walking ahead to his old bedroom.

you rolled your eyes, finally calming down from your initial bashfulness. “show away! don’t go gatekeeping!” you scolded lightly, attempting to snatch a bag off of him to lend assistance, however.. being as enhanced as he was.. your partner had been quicker.

“gatekeeping?” he repeated before laughing again. “alright, alright. well- this is my room. growing up, we didn’t have much- so it’s on the bare side, although genesis insisted on hanging up pictures of us as mementos.” he explained, smiling to himself a little. “he had also gifted me a copy of loveless, stating that our friendship required me to have one.”

that made you shake your head, a snicker tumbling past your lips. “that sounds like him for sure. you guys look so adorable, you were so so cute, angeal!!”

he rubbed his neck, averting his gaze. “cute is the last word i would use to describe myself.. but if you say so.” the SOLDIER loosed a low breath, smiling to himself before guiding you out. “the next room over is my mother’s, beside it is the restroom.. and i think that’s it.” he concluded, stopping to take in the living room.

not much had changed since he’d last been there, the raven haired male realized. save for a few extra photos his mother had likely framed in his absence.

“angeal, just in time! will you help with setting things up? i might have made too much..” gillian spoke up with a nervous chuckle, tucking a pair of wooden salad tongs into the bowl of greens.

too much felt like an understatement.. he hoped everything would fit on the table.

“let me!” you piped up, snapping the first out of his daze as you jogged up to his mother. “least i can do for receiving your hospitality!”

the older woman blinked before shaking her head. “nonsense, you are our guest! i couldn’t allow that-!” but your hands had already pried the bowl out of her grasp as you flashed a small, reassuring grin.

“doesn’t mean a ‘guest’ can’t lend a hand!”

with that said, the table set in a shorter amount of time, a whisper of thanks expressed for the food before the three of you ate in a comfortable silence.

there was idle chatter here and there, mostly exchanged between yourself and gillian — who was eager to pull out photo albums that you were certainly not opposed to viewing. angeal baby pictures?? that was all the convincing you needed!

“and this one is of him taking his first steps.” she cooed softly, reminiscing in the memory. “cutie, isn’t he?”

you melted at the sight, whining softly. “that’s what i’ve been saying! see ang, even your mom agrees!”

bringing a palm to his face, the male in question let out a soft breath of exasperation. although there was no hiding that undeniable smile on his face.

he was glad he’d given in to taking this small trip home that his two friends had urged him ( for the most part ) into. being back in banora and with his mother brought an indescribable warmth to his chest, which only increased with you at the very table he’d grown up eating at.

when had he gotten so lucky?

“ah- and this one is of him and genesis bathing together-”

or unlucky, in some cases..

“i-i think that’s enough photos for today, mother..”

something told him there would be handsome amounts of embarrassment in the coming days.

he prayed sephiroth and genesis, especially, wouldn’t catch wind of it..

notes. whoops, i had this sitting and finally got around to finishing it. little rushed at the end but i’m hoping it’s good and that i wrote angeal alright..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics. #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #angeal hewley #angeal hewley x reader #angeal #ff7 angeal #ffvii angeal #ff7 x reader #ffvii x reader #angeal hewley x you #angeal hewley x y/n #angeal x reader #angeal x you #angeal x y/n #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #crisis core reunion #final fantasy angeal #final fantasy 7 x reader #final fantasy vii x reader

[sakurarouges]

“And so I try to be kind to everything I see, and in everything I see, I see him.”

#a little life #james norton #luke thompson #jude st francis #willem ragnarsson #elliot cowan #zubin varla #nathalie armin #zach wyatt #omari douglas #emilio doorgasingh #hanya yanagihara #watched this 3 times live and it's still not enough #can't wait to see this in the cinema #my gif

[black-and-yellow]

Louie is un-scam-able (he has No money)

#i hate taking pictures of my sketchbook it always looks bad and I dont like it at all #anything for Louis #first time drawing Tony yeah baby #still haven't played Last Window but I've seen a letsplay #i hated Tony at first but I kinda warmed to him solely for being the closest thing to Louie that there is in that game #like plant milk. It's definitely not milk. but it's .. close enough #hotel dusk room 215 #last window #tony wolf #louis denonno #a couple nights ago i dreamt that I won a 'week with the Game Grumps' sweepstakes after watching like 3 videos #and I thought 'oh we're probably gonna meet up somewhere and engage in some fun activities' #but they actually just stayed in my house the entire time #i tried to be honest with them and told them I'd only seen like 5 GG videos in total #which seemed to disappoint Dan quite a lot #he was like 'we should have gone somewhere where people liked us...' #and I was like no danny it's not like that it's just not my thing #anyway then i woke up and watched a ton of the 10mph videos which i enjoyed wAy more than the normal videos #and now Dan Avidan lives in my brain rent-free #I just wanted to dream about Louis and Kyle hanging out or something why does this have to happen to me

[kimmkitsuragi]

look this will be extremely 2016-core of me to say but. 16 year old me would genuinely cry if she saw dan and phil announcing their gaming channel is back with a video featuring jacksepticeye

#i know their gaming channel was still active in 2016 BUT DO U GET MY POINT???? #im ngl i do not keep up with these guys anymore the last time i actually try to keep up was when they came out #and then i started to not enjoy their recent videos :( so i stopped #hopefully i have enough cringe living inside of me so that i can still watch their gaming videos :3 #once again im ngl even if i dont keep up w these guys anymore they still mean so much to me tbh like....... #it's s hard to explain #above all else; they literally taught me english!!! 😭😭 not even kidding!!!!! #i remember i started watching their videos while i still couldnt really understand english that much sdhfbdfh especially not spoken english #WITH accents mind u #and im 100% serious the moment i realized 'HOLY SHIT i can actually understand spoken english to a good extent rn????' #i was literally watching a dnp video at that exact moment #so yeah dnp literally taught me english. this is only one of the reasons why i care abt them deeply still #let's not get into the more emotional reasons #anyway another thing is sean was THE reason i got into gaming im not even kidding 😭 #i just realized i was so fucking real in middle school. a non-english speaker whose fave youtubers are #3 english-speaking dudes with Hard Accents. hell yeah #i need this exact energy with german rn #anywayyyyy i was also gonna say something else sbhsdbfdbfs im sorry for rambling but #everytime i open up sims 4 my thoughts are always related to dnp gaming channel fr #🗒 #sorry to be cringe or whatever btw #dnp

[the-halfling-prince]

Outlander S3:

Marseli: Listen here, you English whore-

Claire: 😶

Fergus: Hey that's my mom don't call my mommy a whore

#Fergus is like 'girl I know whores she's not one #Me when my adopted son marries my husband's stepdaughter. huh. #When I saw Fergus first show up in season 3 I still refered to him as 'the little French boy' like I know he's an adult now but he's still #my little French boy TO ME. To me. #Anyway this show is fucking insane #My favorite thing is how they exclusively call Ian 'young Ian' #Like young neil vibes #my posts #outlander #Claire is such a funny character to me like she's going through it all the time. If it's not one thing it's another #I loved when she was on that island and then Jamie and the others finally found her and one of the shipmen was like 'man his wife always #shows up in the weirdest places' and I'm like THAT'S WHAT IM SAYING #Give this woman a break #Also I just got to the part where Brianna (Briana?) Decides to go through the stones and HER OUTFIT! #I'm crying literally what #She really went 'yeah this looks 1700s enough.' Please. You saw the outfit your mom made to go back what is that #Wait no I loved the part where Claire put a zipper in her stays and Jamie was like 'girl what the fuck.' #Anyway yeah #I had no interest in this show but I'd be in the living room doing whatever while my mum watched it and I got hooked so we started it over #WAIT the part where William was like 'why didn't you turn around when you let's and Jamie said he didn't want to give him false hope #And then when John gray and William were leaving William turned around and you could see that Jamie was given that same false hope #Help this poor man #The amount of shit Jamie and Claire go through I'm so glad they have plot armor. #Also love the idea of Claire saying things in 1960s English and everyone going 'what is she on?' #Wait I need to know what was going through Claire's head when she decided what photos to bring of Brianna to show Jamie #Like 'oh these are cute. It really shows her personality and- oh I'm gonna scare the shit outta him with the bikini picture' #Girl what #Okay I'm done

[trollbreak]

Brain full of sleepies, heart full of old guys just doing stuff

#specifically myoren and burger. I like them :3 #pondering if they were friends. myoren isn’t near a dock per se but they do live near enough to the ocean to be an easy walk from isohel’s #place to their own Yk? #also um. myoren old #who fuckin knows how old burger is but #myoren more than old enough to have probably known him before he was on the whip #anyways burger organizing and putting away foodstuffs after shopping #myoren humming bits and pieces along with whatever’s on the radio while they do housework- a potion of their attention divided to keeping #the pot on the stove stirring as they do stuff #balist sat on the floor whittling. bc it’s easier to clean up the mess if he’s already down there and it’s nice to have floor time #man… I need more old guys tbh #discos likes watching the sky tho do u kno. she doesn’t have to breathe anymore so she can just lay still as the dead to watch it change #over her some days

[jaeyooniverse]

soohyuk&sanghyuk besties.............

#soohyuk is so right for this tbh like dawon IS so cute and charming and I too would wanna show him off #좋아요^_^ 후훗^^ CRYINGHES SO CUTE😭😭😭😭😭 #dawon #dwn.log #lee soo hyuk #sorry I just needed to store this somewhere <3 #etc #just remembered I still havent watched his live .. or tyangs......... not enough time in the day to watch everything ..

[crehador]

S O O N

#kanikore #ngl i was a hater about the solo lives #for all of like #5 seconds lmao #before committing to buying them all #so so SO stoked to finally start watching #with the dearest <3 #i have not watched any trailers or even peeked at the set list #still PRAYING we get private time live PLEASE #i mean i think we have to #right? #there's not enough stuff #for them to not perform all the things #i think

[amarimeta]

wait okay. on the topic of people not enjoying the leftovers like i do. my friend's parents started it towards the end of january (per my recommendation of course) and i was getting very minimal updates from my friend. three weeks ago she texts and she's like "my dad is coming around to it but my mom still hates it. they're on season 3 btw" i'm like OKAYYYYYY HE'S COMING AROUND TO IT!!!!!!!!!! two days ago she texts me like "yea i think they've given up on it. my dad might finish it on his own but my mom didn't like it" so then i start wondering where in season 3 they left off. did they get to see _________? she checks the family hbo and they're on season two. episode nine.

EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?? U MEAN TO TELL ME YOU JUST WATCHED THE LEFTOVERS SEASON TWO EPISODE EIGHT "INTERNATIONAL ASSASSIN" ONE OF THE BEST EPISODES OF TELEVISION TO EVER AIR AND YOU JUST. STOPPED??????

#i'm haunted by this. #need to go to her house and talk to them. i was actually there like a month back but i completely forgot to talk about it with them. #need more friends with parents like brinker's mom who is watching the gilded age season two and live texting her thoughts <33 #meanwhile one time i asked my other friend to ask their dad what he thought of the americans and he CHAT GPT 'ED IT. #society if my friends had the same taste in television as me ..... instead of all of their parents...... #imagine watching international assassin and then being like “well. that's enough for me!!!” #HUHHHHHH. WYMMMMM. if i watch international assassin the episode following could be ted lasso season 3 levels bad im still seated. #like i just watched TELEVISION. #is episode nine 'ten thirteen' my FAVORITE episode? no. but STILL #the leftovers #ace.txt