#apparently i make crappy gifs now

[ecoustsaintmein]

Two times Sebastian held Thorsten, and two times Thorsten held Sebastian.

Hart an der Grenze (Sebastian initiated contact first)

Das Mädchen Galina (Thorsten holding Sebastian after he saved him)

Altlasten (Thorsten initiated contact first)

Freigang (Sebastian holding Thorsten's hand after he saved him)

(and still no hug)

[igbylicious]

knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, reader wears a dress, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy panties and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your panties.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your panties aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.

[reiderwriter]

♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee

[lanawinterscigarettes]

can i please get something with jealous love quinn x fem reader:)! love ur writing so much!

yeah absolutely! and thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say <3

Green With Envy (Love Quinn x fem reader)

Warnings: mild swearing, jealousy, slight possessiveness

Love was fuming as she watched you help out a customer in Anavrin, where you both worked. You were just being polite, she knew that, but she still found herself getting upset. Especially when said customer placed his hand on your arm and moved in closer. A little too close, in her opinion.

"Yo, sis, what's up? Why do you look like me when we're out of gluten free bread?" Forty questioned suddenly, seeming to have popped up from out of nowhere.

"Nothing's up. I'm fine," she lied through her teeth, watching as the guy next to you got closer and closer still. Now his hand was on the small of your back, something that you obviously didn't look comfortable with. Your eyes flickered around the store before landing on where she stood at the cash register, two words discernible in them: help me.

"God damn it," she swore underneath her breath as she pushed past Forty and started to make her way over. "Watch the cash register for me," she commanded without giving him so much as a second glance, stalking across the store over to where you were.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her best customer service smile so she'd looking friendly instead of threatening (like she really wanted to) and casually sidled up beside you. "Hey! Is there anything I can help you with?"

Despite her polite words, her actions told a much different story. Her hand went to the small of your back, smacking the guy's hand away before wrapping her arm around your waist and tugging you against her. If there was one thing Love Quinn didn't do, it was subtle.

The guy grumbled something under his breath about never coming back as he turned and slunk away, clearly displeased by the interruption. "Thank you," you said before giving her an appreciative kiss on the cheek.

"Of course, sweetie. Let me know if another customer gives you a hard time, okay?" She pulled you in for a hug before reluctantly heading back to the register where Forty still was. Before he could open his mouth, however, she spoke first. "I want you to watch them and make sure nobody ever bothers them again, do you understand me?"

She rarely gave him any direct orders. Most of the time when she wanted him to do something for her it was concealed as a harmless suggestion so he'd think he came up with the idea himself. But right now she was far too upset to worry about mincing her words.

"You got it, sis. No problem." He gave her a light pat on the shoulder before heading off in your direction, to pitch another one of his crappy screenplay ideas no doubt.

Over the next week or so, her plan worked perfectly. Forty hung around you so often that most customers left you alone, and that included the ones who were only trying to cop a feel before asking for your number. The only customers who did come up to you were ones that actually needed help with something.

It backfired, however, when you started hanging out with her brother more than you were with her. Apparently you had a brain that was perfect for plucking ripe, juicy ideas from (Forty's words) and because of that he spent a lot of his free time brainstorming with you, which took time away that you and her could be spending together.

She tried not to get jealous, she really did. It was nice that Forty had someone who actually cared about him to help with his screenplays, someone who she knew wouldn't do anything to threaten or jeopardize his sobriety, but still. You were supposed to be her girlfriend, not his.

The final straw came when Forty tried to get you to cancel your date night, one that you'd had planned for weeks in advance. Love adored her brother, but that was taking it a bit too far.

"You need to stop hanging out with him," she said to you one afternoon a day or so later as she was chopping up veggies to put in a stir-fry she was making. "My brother, I mean," she added once she saw the slight look of confusion on your face. "It's nice that he finally has someone other than me to go to, but he's taking all of our time together away from us."

It wasn't hard to tell she was jealous from the way she was gripping the knife so tightly. You'd be afraid if you didn't know her well enough to know she'd never do anything to hurt you.

"Hey, hey." You made your way over to her, wrapping your arms around her from behind as you rested your chin on her shoulder. "I get it. You're feeling a little left out, right? I can start hanging out with him less, it's fine. I just know how much he means to you and didn't want to brush him off if it was going to hurt his feelings."

She melted into your embrace, turning her head slightly so she could look at you. Everything about you was perfect, even more so than she initially thought. Not everyone was so understanding when it came to the codependent relationship she had with her brother, but you were, and it only made her love you that much more.

"Thank you. I love you," she muttered while leaning in to give you a tender kiss as a way of her showing her thanks to you.

You smiled at her words, kissing her back before replying with a soft, "I love you, too. Just try not to get so green with envy next time. It was hard to tell the difference between you and the green juice you sell at Anavrin."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed at the comparison, but you didn't miss the amused look she had on her face. "Alright, dork. Leave me alone so I can finish getting this ready."

"If you say so." You pressed another kiss to her cheek before letting go of her, though you were stopped when she reached out to gently grab you by the arm.

"Hey. It really means a lot to me that you care so much about both me and my brother. So, thank you for that." She was absolutely serious when she spoke, any hint of playfulness from earlier gone.

"There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted with a caring gaze. "I'd do anything for you, Love. Including being the occasional babysitter for your slightly unstable twin brother."

That made her laugh, and she pulled you back in for another kiss, one that lasted longer than the one before it. She could tell you really meant it, every single word, and that was more important to her than anything.

End notes: I love writing for love hehe 🥰

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[yurinaa-world]

Can I request Jing Yuan and blade with an s/o with a shorter lifespan than them who they met when she was young but now she is an old lady (sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language ;-:)

Characters: Blade and Jing Yuan x Female Reader

Synopsis: fateful meeting after a lifetime has passed but he still looks the same while you don't.

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, angsty with no comfort, went very angsty with this, reader death implied at the end in Jing Yuan part.

Notes: I just wanted to say that the reason I closed my requests is because I thought it would be better to do quality over quantity since that isn't fair to myself and to everyone who wants to see my writing but just to see such crappy and rushed writing. (don't worry it will open again!)

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

The rain was heavy, making all the citizens of Loufu run back home. Even their umbrellas couldn’t stop the harsh rain from hitting them and soaking them completely, yet you stayed out under a little side foot that was more than enough to become soaked by the rain. Since beggars can’t be choosers, you just deal with what you get.

Many seasons go by. It was like yesterday you were a young woman with the need to know what the future would hold for you, but now your days are numbered and you don't have much time to be alive. Every step you take might be your last that doesn’t bother you. You have so many regrets, so you would rather get this life over with and cry about it later.

The students of the master have now all grown up and are taking care of their reborn master, the cycle repeating itself over and over again. If only you had someone like that, all those friends you had would be gone, since you were the only one out, the childish and weak mortal in the group, and there was an unknown chance if you were to be reborn—a chance but not a worthy one for someone like you.

Lost in thought, someone stood beside you—a man with long hair. You turned to your side to look at him; he wasn’t soaked at all, even though he didn’t have an umbrella. Calmly bothered by the rain, “You don’t even drop a droplet of water on you,” you laughed lightly, the dryness in your throat becoming apparent.

Over time, as you get older, you're not afraid to strike up a conversation with anyone who doesn't care about any societal standards, since it's like you were one of them. “I don't,” he replied back, his voice rough, making it sound like he didn’t want even to bother talking to you as his answer, making you confused: “Young people these days, such pep in your words.” You smiled at him, not taking anything offensive; he turned to look at you. Your eyes widened looking at you like that.

A laugh left your scratchy throat; now you remember him very clearly, along with a distant memory.

Yingxing

"Yangxing, hey, hey! Stop ignoring me!" You yell at him, trying to gain his attention while he puts on his metal sword (that he was making for you). “You brat,” you hear him say, leaving the sword in the water and walking over with a mad expression before pinching and pulling your cheek roughly. "OWW." "Do you ever stop talking, or are you going to talk your ears off?" he huffs. He clearly wasn’t mad at you; he was just playing it up. "Little brat, lucky you're cute, or I would kick you." "No way." "Don't try me, Brat; did you forget that this sword is for you?" ….

That old memory makes you laugh even though you can’t remember all of it fully, yet it seems you're the only mortal now since he looks the same, but with one difference: his hair was black now instead of white, which was a shame you liked his white hair. Did he still remember you?

“You don’t look a day old; look at me; I'm an old hag now, if you even remember me.” You chuckled at the poor memory coming back to you from your youth. “I remember you; you look different now.” "Of course, I’m just a short-lived species,” you stop to laugh before continuing, “I guess I’m the only one now.”

“You seem more alive now than you were before” is one of the few words spoken to you since you were the one speaking the most.

"The older you are, the more you realize you don’t have much time left and live your life to the fullest.”

The rain slowly came to a stop, dividing to show the sun and its glory again. As he also began to leave, you stayed to watch him go but stopped after a couple of steps. "You were as beautiful as the first time I met you,” he said blankly. Before leaving for good, you couldn’t help but let tears slip past, remembering the past.

“You little brat, don’t run."

"You're lucky; I even made you a sword.”

“I made your weapon to fit your style, so you don’t have to worry about styling."

All those memories with him made your heart ache, and everything was taken away from you—the life you used to have and the life you could’ve had—but now the only thing left to achieve in this life is death. At least then you’ll be freed. The pitiful mortal you truly are

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

Lying in bed, my body felt like a tangled mess of discomfort, constantly shifting and unable to find a moment of reprieve. With each breath, you released exasperated sighs, your throat, and raspy coughs that echoed through the room. The pain in your throat, a relentless companion, combined with the knowledge that even the simplest act of speaking would render your voice grouchy and croaky

This is the reality that hangs over you like a heavy cloud, a constant reminder that your decaying flesh will give up on you at the slightest attempt to rise from this bed of discomfort. Every day, it seemed, your body grew weaker and more fragile, as if it were nothing more than a fragile vessel on the brink of shattering.

You wish there would be a better way to spend the few years or months you have to live, but you weren’t one of the Vidyadharas who were reincarnated when they died. Your fate would be unknown if you were brought back to life, but you hope there was a chance to be with someone.

The sound of someone knocking softly at the door, you cough roughly before speaking, "Come in,” you say weakly, trying to be loud enough to hear, trying to clear your throat so you don’t have to painfully cough from your dead, dried throat.

The doorknob twisted, and the door gently opened, making a small creaking sound from the old door hinges. You were too tired and in pain to even see who it was, just coughing painfully and saying, "You've seen better days.” With the old voice of a friend, Jing Yuan, and a bouquet of golden flowers that remind you of his eyes, you never thought he would visit since it was long ago that you last saw him.

“I have *cough*, but it isn’t as bad as before.” You say optimistically, smiling at him, “Your busy being in general these days; how far you have come.” You were happy with his future and the life he’s living now. “Yes, but I hoped that you would stand beside me as well.” His voice begins to sound sad at having been with you, putting down a bouquet on your bedside table covered with medicines.

“I’m human; remember, what makes you think I can stand right now anyway?" You laugh, trying to lighten his mood. He seems to be bothered more than you that life has been unkind to you and didn’t allow you both to be together. “You know what I mean? Do you ever wish that you could live as long as me?” Such sentimental words are coming from him.

"Right now, yes, but what can we do but face hard? Weren’t those words you told me whenever I was having a hard time?" You remember those words barely; they're still ingrained in your memory with him by your side.

“Jing Yuan, when I die, don’t bother crying over me; we both knew the day would come.” You say seriously since he was the last person you wanted to hurt by your death, so you would rather him be numbed by you since the days are getting near, but he kept silent, not able or wanting to say anything to you.

“If I have another chance at life, I'll find you again, so don’t be sad; don’t get your hopes up, though.”

As you close your eyes, slowly surrendering to the encompassing darkness, a profound sense of tranquility washes over you and your weary and weak soul. The weight of the world all fades away. Your heart goes silent, with no beating or breath. You’ll meet him again in another life; maybe this time you’ll be able to be Vidyadharas so you can have all the time in the world, unlike before.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[gatitties]

Hello. This is my first time making a request, so pardon me for any mistakes I might make, english is also not my first language, lol. May I request a teen! AFAB male reader (trans FtM) x Kid pirates (platonic)?

The reader is the user of the Itai-Itai No Mi, a fruit with the power to control pain sensitivity. The reader is chronically ill, born with Classic Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, so you could see how the fruit comes in extremely handy. He can control his own pain levels and transfer pain between himself and others, outside of battle, he often uses his powers to overextend himself, and during a fight, he can debilitate enemies by accentuating the pain from his own wounds and then transferring it to a target. Since he's physically weak, he keeps a distance, using a bow and arrow. He's really passionate about chemistry, so he usually laces the arrows with nervous agents, urticants, or other chemical weapons.

However, the powers from his fruit are nothing but a mere illusion. He can go on with his daily life, using his powers as analgesics and pretending he's not sick in the first place, but even though he's not feeling pain, he's still getting hurt.

If that wasn't enough, the reader is alexythimic, so he's constantly thrill-seeking in an attempt to alleviate the boredom that comes with his dulled-out emotions. This gets to the point where the reader just completely neglects his health because, well, he's not in pain. It also gets to the point where his body simply starts falling apart, being too unstable to keep him going. He hides this to the crew and pretends that nothing is happening, though the bruises and huge atrophic scars that appear from the slightest injuries are kind of a give-away.

Anxiety and anger are the only two emotions that the reader can easily identify, the rest being vague, confusing, or apparently non-existent. As he sits on the edge of his bed, feeling like a burden to the crew, those two emotions overtake him. The reader already has dysphoria and uneasiness regarding his body, a thing which he rarely talks about; despite dressing boyish he definitely doesn't pass as both his voice and body don't match his mind. And now, if that wasn't enough, his body fails him once more. "Why do I have to deal with the burden of something that doesn't even belong to me?" He asks himself.

As he gets sicker and sicker, his mind has him trapped in this endless cycle of boredom, fear, rage and indifference. At this point, everything, from his body to his head, feels like he's been sentenced to life in prison.

One day the reader simply collapsed, and the crew has to sit there, puzzled, as they figure out why the usually full-of-energy reader now has faceplanted the floor. I'll leave the rest to you (?) sorry if this is too long, lol. I've been feeling crappy about my physical and mental health, so reading something like this would be nice.

─Kid pirates x Teen!AFAB male reader (FtM) (platonic)

─Summary: Your world is slowly collapsing in the face of your illness, your powers don't seem to help and you are becoming more and more physically and mentally devastated.

─Warnings: a little angst, dissatisfaction with body, small panic attack

Naah, you did absolutely fine, I'm sorry this took so long and I hope you're really okay now love, I wish you all the love in the world and lots of hugs <3

You lost count of how many days you've been feeling this way, a sensation that tingles your body and persists until you fade it with your powers, the sensitization control worked well, however you had the reminder of the scars and the touch of your own skin, remembering that no matter how hard you try, you were still a helpless and insecure teenager with a chronic health problem.

The moments when all the discomfort was left behind was due to the lack of understanding when it came to deciphering feelings, the crew didn't help much with that issue, after all, they, for the most part, weren't the happiest people or those who spread nice or self-care messages, definitely the Kid Pirates weren't the most suitable to fully develop your lack of interpretation of emotions.

Even though you had never had any problems before, something inside your mind was eating away at your conscience little by little, devouring every little corner, you don't know when it started, but you felt trapped in a cycle, repetitive days seeing your face, your body, you didn't look like yourself, you weren't the person you imagined in your confused mind, you didn't like yourself, and even changing your physical aspects in a certain ways, there was always some minimal detail as a reminder, the tone of your voice, the shape of your body… it seemed like a constant fight against yourself, a tug-of-war in which your thoughts brought you down morally.

"Hey kiddo, don't just stand there, we have to go now, don't forget your things."

Heat gave you a little push on the shoulder, taking you out of your train of thought, as if the world had returned to its normal speed, you nodded, leaving to pick up your bow, arrows and those new poisons that you had been making in your little laboratory inside Kid's workshop.

Wire, who came right after you left, narrowed his eyes, watching as your hunched figure faded through the dining room door, sharing a look with his companion as if they read each other's thoughts. They were both the first to notice how you seemed more subdued and distant every day, as they found themselves spending more time with you, although at first they attributed it to you simply being tired, something told them it was something deeper than simple tiredness.

"Do you think something's wrong with the boy? He's been avoiding spending time on the deck lately."

Heat nodded at his friend's question, knowing that you seemed to be avoiding everyone lately, making a mental note to ask you about it, both of them split up to get their weapons as well, they were going to rob a small town in about ten minutes.

Your gaze was lost, focused on your bow, lips in a thin line, you clenched your fist around the weapon, startling when you felt a huge, cold hand against your head, Kid had a habit of giving you caresses on the head a little roughly before a battle, a strange feeling stirred inside you, something that you supposed was good since it was not the same feeling you had when you experienced anger.

"Be careful and all that, but above all, crush them."

Kid was certainly not the most encouraging person, but taking a few minutes with you before each battle made you feel good, a small, shaky smile decorated your face for a few seconds, unknowingly, your captain's words had added more weight to your shoulders, of course, not intentionally, but you would feel like a complete useless if you did not do your job well.

The moments before and during battle always become a blur of images, as if you have no control over your own body, leaving it on autopilot, just shooting from a distance, only physically intervening if some idiot dares to get too close to your position.

You didn't have to make much physical effort most of the time, you conserved a lot of energy by having a more defensive position, leaving the action and enjoyment to your bloodthirsty comrades, but your enemies were not in front at the moment, your own immune system was the one who decided to give you a rear stab, like a traitor. Your senses began to fail and immediately fear settled in the pit of your stomach, a strange and unexpected sensation, your body began to tremble even when you insensitized it with your skill, your hands, your legs began to not respond, the tingling at the tip of your fingers intensified and it seemed as if your skin was cracked and dry.

The failure in your system made you fall from the tree you were in, with your senses completely disoriented you began to feel pain like small needles sticking into every corner of your body, your chest rose and fell rapidly, your pharynx seemed to close like a snake taking your breath away in a deadly strangulation.

Killer, who was the closest to your position, was the one who heard the smack of your body against the ground, as well as your weak moans, giving you a sidelong glance, his body went cold in a second as he saw how you struggled to stay conscious, forgetting about his main task, although it was practically finished, he immediately went to you.

"Hey, hey, are you okay? Damn, have you been attacked? Please listen to me, try to be with me just a little longer and don't lose consciousness... kiddo? kiddo!"

He shook your body carefully, trying not to touch the parts of your skin exposed and full of scars, Killer despaired when you began to close your eyes, taking you in his arms quickly, returning to the safety of the Victoria Punk, completely confused by your sudden fainting, yes, he knew that sometimes you left your own skin at work, in battles, but you always seemed to be full of energy, ready for another assault, what happened this time? There were no enemies around.

It was the day after that event, you met up with the group of four, Heat, Wire, Kid and Killer looked at you expectantly, making you shrink in your own place, you didn't know how to start talking, you felt pressured, caged at that moment, there were so many things you wanted to say and yet so few words with which to explain yourself. You didn't speak that day, or the next, or the following week, which got on the crew's nerves, although they weren't the friendliest or funniest pirates, they were still like a family and despite not showing it to the outside, they all had a deep concern for your state, so broken and fragile being a simple teenager.

Wire had to stop his captain from exploding at you because of this whole strange atmosphere of uncertainty, and if it weren't for Killer, who decided to take matters into his own hands, Kid would surely have taken out his problems with an argument, luckily, his best friend and co-captain was much gentler, perhaps, one of the only people on board who could make you understand in a less complex way the feelings of duality you were going through.

Of course, you released some emotional weight after a long talk with Killer, it didn't make all your worries go away, the chronic illness will haunt you until the end of your days, it was something you had to bear and accept, and they would take care of keeping your mind away from bad thoughts.

They don't know how they'll do it either, solving such complicated, emotional and personal problems wasn't something they had much experience with, but they'll go through this process together, they promised that you'd never have to feel that way again, that you'd never go through that again, but it'll still take you some time, the most pessimistic thoughts are the ones that take root the most in the mind and destroy it, but at least, they already have somewhere to start.

[ato-catto]

Ssj4 (lonely) Goku x Fem reader

Light smut/ neediness/feral boi

I wrote this on a whim and didn't double check it. Sorry if the spelling is off :,)

Your bleary eyes cracked open when you awoke to the sound of tapping at your window. A dark, bushy haired silhouette sat at the other side of the glass, giving you a right scare. Your heart pounded in your chest and a hand flew to your mouth.

"Goku!? What are you doing here so late!?" You moved to the window and slid it up, letting in a nice warm summer nights breeze. Goku stared up at you with a pouted lip and yellow puppy dog eyes, that caught the moonlight beautifully.

It made you remember all the years you had spent fawning over him as your mentor, and the most recent years you had spent being slightly jealous of his wife, before you matured and 'moved on'.

When he looked at you like that, it didn't feel like you had moved on at all.

"Chichi kicked me out for getting fur on the couch." Goku pouted, resting his furry elbows on the windowsill. "I tried to go to Bulmas but no one was in."

You nodded in thought. "I'm pretty sure they've taken Trunks on holiday to some theme park."

Goku frowned. "Oh. Makes sense." His tone was so light for the gravelly, throaty voice that his form brought forth.

You shook your head, amused and bemused, and ushered him inside and out of the dark.

You switched on your bedside lamp and the big burly Saiyan clambered over the window ledge, sliding the window, and curtains, shut behind him.

He shook put his thick, dark mane and smiled greatfully at you, his fangs poking out from beneath his top lip. His face looked handsome in the dim orange glow from the lamp, and his teeth glinted, catching your eyes, drawing them to his mouth.

"Thanks for lettin' me in, Y/N." He grinned.

You brushed of his thanks with a happy smile, sitting back on your bed, back into the warmth of your blanket. The little shorts and cami you had on wasn't very... modest.

Goku wasn't one to have wandering eyes, anyway, but you weren't going to be the one to stumble a married man- even if it was by accident.

He sat on the very edge of the mattress, his weight bowing the bed down on one side. "Ah I feel so crappy for pissin' off Chichi. Things just haven't been the same since the separation. I should really move out-"

Your eyes went wide. "Seperation!?" OK, THAT was unexpected! Last time you saw them- albeit being 5 or so years ago- she was all over him, clinging to his arm and giving him big loving smiles every time he looked at her.

Perhaps it was the form, that now apparently had stuck. Maybe poor Chichi couldn't stick the fur and exposed abs -although you couldn't see why not- and constant gruff voice, that frankly sent tingles up your spine.

Goku shrugged. "I dunno what it was. We just grew apart I suppose-" his tail waved slowly, sadly. "She seems happier now she's got the house to herself most the time."

You patted his furry back sympathetically. "She's probably just glad she doesn't have to clean so much. Don't take it personally."

He turned to you, his eyes shadowed and dark behind his long bangs. "I wish that was it, but it's not. She told me she didnt 'love me' anymore. I'm too much hassle with the fur."

He ran his hand over the fluffy part of his abdomen, glumly running his fingers through the slightly matter fur.

"I'm sure that isn't true." You hummed, watching the way his hand glided through his pelt and wandered what it would feel like if you did that yourself. You followed his hand as it moved to his abs, rippling over the soft indents and curvature of his tanned skin. A blush formed on your cheeks, and Goku chuckled, a deep rumbling noise that came from the very bottom of his chest.

He had been following your eyes, like he used to do back in your training sessions, to gage what exactly you were thinking about.

And just like back then, he had caught you admiring his physique just a little too much.

"So what do you think of this form?" He purred, leaning a little closer to you on the bed, resting back on his outstretched hands.

You swallowed, slightly hypnotised as his chest stretched out, and rose and fell with his breaths.

"It's really impressive. Very.. monkey like."

Goku laughed, and gave you another toothy grin. "Wanna feel?"

Your heart STOPPED. "Wanna feel.. what-?" You chose your words carefully.

Goku took your hand from your lap and set it on the furry part of his solid muscle bound stomach. "My fur."

Your fingers spread amongst the red, which was soft yet somehow coarse at the same time. Your heart thumping in your ears, your hand feeling up the strong muscles and across the dense ribs of your old master and friend.

He watched you and grinned, his eyes glinting a perfect amber in the light of the lamp.

"S'nice, isn't it?" His words were soft. You could've sworn he tensed slightly as you neared the ridge between flesh and fur.

"Mhm." You didn't want to open your mouth too much, for fear of letting the mounting drool flood out down your chin. Good Kami Kai. Why you? Why today?

Goku grasped your wrist and brought it higher. "Skins pretty soft too.." he purred, setting your palm on his pectoral.

Your face reflected the colour of his fur now, red spreading across your cheeks and neck. He found your reaction amusing, as always. He remembered the days fondly where you couldn't even stand eye to eye with him before sparring because you would go as red as a tomato- and that was back before the days of transformations and forms.

It had been amusing then, but now since being married he understood why exactly you reacted the way you did, and they fact that even now, decades later, you were still the same blushing baby under his gaze was nice. Despite his age, he still had the same effect that he always had on you, and he liked the comfort of something going unchanged in his life.

You. You were the thing that always stayed steadfast.

He brought a finger to your cheek and touched the hot, soft skin. "You alright?" He teased. "Goin' a little red there-"

You pulled your hand back, faster than you've ever moved before, even during fights. "Wha- oh. Oh! Sorry."

Shit! How long had you had your hand there for? His face was a mixture of amusement and... lust. Was that lust? His golden eyes glimmered with something sensual that you swore you were misreading.

"Sorry for what?" He got a little closer. Close enough to smell your arousal.

That's right. His Saiyan sense of smell was stronger than any humans. It was akin to a dogs- he could smell a hot pie from a mile away. His senses went feral- he had been needy for so long.. and with no wife to quell his rising ache.. having you in those small shorts in such close proximity was sending him silently insane.

"I'm sorry for being handsy." You laughed nervously. "Having a man in the house is nice. I'm not used to it." Your half hearted attempt at changing the subject didn't go unnoticed.

"Uhuh." Goku brushed the excuse aside and leant closer, practically leaning over you. "How 'bout you tell me what's on that pretty mind of yours?" His fangs peeked over his lip again, and he planted a hand at the side of your thigh.

You blinked. "On my mind?"

He nodded, not breaking eye contact.

You inhaled sharply. "I was just.. thinking.. you are very handsome? I guess."

Goku tittered. "My chest is 'handsome?'"

"...sexy?" You shrunk back into yourself. The air felt so thick between you, it could be cut with a dull knife.

He grinned again, crawling over you, caging you flat on your back against the mattress. "That's a better word for it."

You gasped slightly, his nose coming close to yours and his eye spearing your very soul. Any words stuck in your throat, his eyes sliding down to your lips. Was he... was he going to-

He was, and he did, lowering himself with strong arms to inquisitively brush his mouth against yours, asking almost politely. You obliged, needing this decades worth of stomach knots to final unravell onto him. His tongue was eager to gain access, probing your mouth and tasting you like he had been craving you. His thick mane fell about your head, shadowing the both of you. He pulled back to breathe, almost glaring at you as he caught his breath. Something feral passed behind his eyes and his pants turned to soft growls.

"I need you." He purred, grasping the back of your neck and running a thumb down your throat. "I've needed you."

Your eyes go wide like saucers, slightly terrified of this new version of Goku- but massively aroused all the same. ".. Then.. then take me." You whisper, tensing your thighs together at the tingle sensations rippling through your core in anticipation.

In response, he buried his fangs into the side of your neck. You mewled, the pain and pleasure folding into one, sending your mind into a blurry fog. The sound was a song that Goku didn't realise he had needed to hear for years.

Being homeless had never been better.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hellooo! Can you please help me find some fics where Derek Bullies Stiles but has a happy ending? I need zhe angstt

For sure.

Mark me by SterekLirryOmega

(1/1 I 3,537 I Teen)

"Mate?" Stiles sounded a bit breathless and when Derek looked up he saw the whiskey coloured eyes big with shock

"It's that ok? You'll be my mate?" And damn he sounded pleading but he didn't care he needed Stiles to say yes to this, to be his forever

Or

The one were Derek is a bully, stiles is oblivious and Jackson still an asshole.

Oh everyone is in High School.

A Serendipitous Occurance by DominikaDecember

(11/11 I 29,529 I Mature)

Derek is living at home with his two annoying siblings, his mother who is killing herself at work and he's stuck in a crappy job with friends who are just as lost as him. Nothing really changes. Especially not when Derek realizes that he has a crush on his little brother's best friend

You Don't Always Get What You Want by deadly_nightshade, Nerdy_fangirl_57

(7/? I 63,150 I Mature)

Stiles doesn't understand what he could have done to deserve this. Not only has the entire student body been out to get him since he first stepped foot into Beacon Hills High, but now he has to endure the constant bullying without his best friend Scott by his side. All in all school is survivable, even with all the harassment. That is until he finds out that Derek Hale, basketball superstar and Stiles' most persistent bully, is apparently his soulmate. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Derek can't believe this. It has to be a joke, it has to, because there is no way in hell that a freak like Stilinski could ever be his soulmate. He despises him more than anyone in the universe. So what if Derek thinks he has a cute nose, no one needs to know. Besides it doesn't matter anyway, he still hates Stilinski with every fiber of his being, his cute nose doesn't change a thing.

He's My Best Friend; Also My Tormentor by TheRoaringWolf

(31/? I 88,526 I Explicit)

Stiles and Derek were best friends. Growing up next door neighbours to each other they did everything together. They watched their first R rated movie together, drank their first stolen beer together, they were always at each others side. Then out of blue Derek turned on Stiles. He shut him out of his life and began to torment him; shoved him against the lockers in the hall, spread humiliating lies about him to the school, Derek made it his mission to make Stiles' life a living Hell.

Why? Stiles would ask himself that question everyday for the last three years. He had done nothing to cause this. He had loved Derek when all of a sudden he was pushed out of his life.

One night, years later, Stiles is sitting by his bedroom window watching Derek's silent house, remembering the days of their friendship, when one mistake will cause everything in Stiles' life to be turned upside down and can only watch helplessly as everything falls apart.

Blue Monday by ExpectNothingGainEverything

(18/? I 511,316 I Explicit)

Stiles would have never guessed that the star player of the lacrosse team and presumably the hottest guy in school who everyone wanted a piece of and one of his most hated bullies would turn out to be his soulmate.

Derek would never have dreamed that fate would be so cruel to pair him up with a freak like Stilinski.

[coulsonlives]

Mkay, time for my in-depth review of Zuko's scar in the live action ATLA, because I'm a lil salty.

This is the first shot of Zuko we see, and my first impression is: this isn't the best makeup. The first thing that stands out is the flatness of the scar. It's unrealistic, because burn scars usually heal in a lumpy way, it's called hypertrophy. See the burn scar from the Hound (Sandor Clegane) in GOT:

That lumpiness is super important for making skin appear like it had been burned by fire and healed over! But because it's not really there in Zuko's face, it just looks like he got a bad sunburn:

I understand Zuko doesn't need a super deformed face, or enormous textures in his scar, but we basically have just flat skin right now, and it doesn't sell 'bad scar' at all. The makeup should've been somewhere between those two things.

The second thing is the general inaccuracy of the scar itself. I'm not gonna nitpick how it doesn't go as far down his cheek, or how it's not affecting his left eyelid, but there are some major things I am gonna mention. In the animated show, his left eyebrow was burned away because the fire contacted the skin underneath it, and then went over that, up into his forehead:

Here's a crappy edit I made where the brow is mirrored, you can see how much the scar extends over it.

But in the makeup, it looks like the fire either stopped directly at the underside of his brow, or it did burn his skin under the brow, but the brow grew back somehow. It looks weird. Because the brow is still present, there's less contrast to draw your attention to the scar and subconsciously say 'this isn't normal'.

Here are two other edits I did:

This is what I'm talking about when I say the brow (and height of the scar) drastically changes how Zuko looks. He looks so much closer to the animated version now, but he's still free to emote because his eye isn't affected at all, and his brow could still move normally. It also helps give him that harsher appearance, which people tend to say exists with the ponytail hairdo! But it would also work great with his long hair look, which would soften everything anyways.

(For the second edit, I also tweaked the ear a lil bit.)

When it comes to the colours of the scar, I'm undecided. In the OG show, they probably had to change the colour of his scar so much to indicate there was even a scar in the first place, because it would've been annoying to add tons of line detail for the animators to deal with instead. At the same time, the live-action show could tone it down a lil bit. But it doesn't look bad, per se.

The third observation I have is Zuko's ear. If you look in the animated show picture above, his left ear (your screen right) is smaller than his right ear, because it's scarred over. I don't think it's practical to have that kind of effect in the live-action show, because it would mean even more CGI (they'd literally need to paint out the real ear, and then replace the ear with a digidouble ear). But if you look at the trailer capture, you'll see the scar colour doesn't even extend to his ear at all!

If you open the picture in photoshop, the scar around his eye and cheek has a reddish hue, but the skin on his ear is the same colour as the skin that isn't scarred. This isn't a cherry-picked sample, the hue is the same in each entire area. As soon as you stop sampling the ear and start sampling the cheek, it drops right into the reds/oranges:

I think the ear coming away unscathed might be a little unrealistic too, considering the scene where Zuko is burned by Ozai currently looks like this:

The fire is obviously going around the sides of his face, not just going directly into it and then bouncing away. It's kinda brushing around. With a scene like this I would expect the ear to have some kinda damage. Is it because they toned down the overall scar so much that any apparent damage on the ear would become nonexistent? Maybe. But right now, the scar just looks like a blob on his face, instead of a spot where fire actually flowed around.

And I just wanted to point out something else I've seen, not in the trailer, but in the fandom. Because I'm already tired of seeing it, it's dumb. Basically I was on a forum and I saw someone say 'if you want something like Two Face from Batman, this is the wrong property to ask for that'. I thought it was super unreasonable because nobody is asking for this:

And nobody is having a 'meltdown', like some other dishonest peeps are saying! People are just mildly upset that the actor's skin looks like it's been coloured in with dye, and there's almost zero hypertrophy to actually telegraph the fact that it's definitively a scar.

So those are my thoughts.. The scar is barely serviceable, they kinda dropped the ball imo.

Don't get me wrong, I totally understand the ~hollywood need~ to make things super toned down so you can see actors' glamorous faces or whatever, but some additional scar makeup wouldn't have harmed his ability to emote or anything. They didn't even need to do anything to his eye.. Just fix the overall first impression the scar gives, which would've worked with the stuff I mentioned above. So I'm not sold on 'it's to show the actor's face better' as an acceptable reason. It's an explanation sure, but it's just not good enough to justify the difference to me.

[sevikasangel]

❥๑𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 — demon! jinx x f!reader where she finally catches her prey. there's an old saying that you cannot outrun your demons...but at least you could invite it to dance.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏᴠᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴꜱ. ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ: demon au + shadows.

— contains: f!reader, death threat, fear, n sfw, fingering, degrading, bottom reader.

— a/n: dedicated to and requested by @ladylusts-world. had lots of fun with this! hope this brightens your day, darling! 💗

— word count: 2,3K

“come out, come out, wherever you are..”

your erratic breath and the overwhelming noise of your frantic heart ringing in your ears, almost like the blood flow was a tempest, was everything that your mind could apparently wrap itself around. with trembling hands, you clutched the walls, dragging your fingers through them as you clutched the wall in order to turn on the lights of your crappy piltie apartment. you shrieked at the ticklish feeling of a tiny spider that slipped through your fingertips. well, this was the only thing you could afford. even a spider-infested egg apartment in piltover is better than the hood you lived in zaun.

however, now you have no time to howl and whine about your low-class life as you should be directing your attention to the creature that stalked you through the dark, cold alleys on that empty night. working for demon hunters must’ve been the most stupid shit you submitted yourself to for some humiliating amount of money. bills don’t pay themselves and you didn’t want to go back to zaun. you couldn’t, actually. you weren’t exactly a person to whom they were very fond. cheating on card games and going so far as stealing sevika’s wallet weren’t forgivable for them. you did this to survive. an orphan who used to be homeless didn’t have many options to change her life. that didn’t matter to them. most of them also had a fucked up past. you were just another pathetic criminal, robbing and selling your morals in order not to be devoured by the bigger fish.

sighing and drowning in fear, you finally flicked on the lights in the living room. however, once you did so, your soul almost left your body and your heart leaped straight to your throat. you felt like screaming and running, but you were frozen in place, your brain going into fight or flight mode.

“are you lost, princess? you know, it’s not very polite to just run out of playtime just like that…last i checked, we were still playing tag…and i am it.” there jinx sat in all her demonic glory. her legs sloppily spread and her arms slumped on the arms of your chair. her eyes were glistening red as she eyed you up and down like the prey you were. “well, here i am.”

you gulped and stared at the blue-haired creature with wide, fearful eyes. her blue and pink nails tapped incessantly on the wooden table, making you flinch and form goosebumps all the time.

“your effort is admirable. really. but it’s useless! the dumb girl thought she could chase me?” jinx laughed out loud at your pathetic state. “track me down for the big bad hunters to catch me…oh, boo hoo, guess who’s getting the chase now? you still have no money, sweets. no money and soon to be six feet under.”

the wind fanned the blue strands of her hair softly and it made her almost look angelical. that’s the irony, you thought to yourself. your feet almost gained life by themselves and you bolted away, trying to get to the front door. you panted heavily and screamed at the top of your lungs. you almost thought jinx would let you out and you could have another chance. you glanced over your shoulder for any sign of her. nothing. however, you had no time to celebrate since you collided right against lean muscles and tripped over, falling on your back on the cold floor. now standing before you, jinx smirked and glared down at you.

“aren’t you tired of running, toots?” she mocked with a pout.

“no! please, let me go…i-i…i made a mistake. i just needed the money, t-they used me. please. please, don’t kill me. i can’t just stop trying to make it out alive!” you pleaded desperately and the demon girl’s grin only became wider, her eyes almost alive on her face.

“i am tired of chasing. game over, little one.”

you pushed yourself to your feet once again and stared at jinx with hopeless eyes. she was a demon, after all. you were nothing but a human mutt who couldn’t do anything to save your own skin. why struggle so much, why walk through fire to save your life, when death would always find you? shit, you thought to yourself.

“can you at least kill me fast?” it was your only request. the words sounded funny to jinx as she just began laughing, her hand grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. you flinched and shut your eyelids tightly, awaiting her strike.

“who said i will kill you…now?” your heart felt like it would fail you anytime. your legs wobble and a cold shiver goes up your spine. hope was cruel. “i am willing to bargain, sweetheart! if you play by my rules, i might just let you live! thrilling isn’t it!?” jinx almost squealed in a cheery voice.

you stared at her and gulped, hands tightly fisted on your sides. the sight of you so fearful and scared awakened a fire in jinx. she loved the hunt. she loved when her lambs were begging for their lives because she had that control over them.

“and what do i have to do?” jinx smirked and you yelped as she dragged you back to the living room. for a slim and short girl, she was rather strong. you assumed it must be her powers. escaping her was literally impossible. so you just needed to embrace your future and believe she was telling the truth. it was your last hope.

and you were grasping it earnestly. you’d survive by yourself all your life. nobody was there to save you but yourself. how come this would be any different now?

jinx sat down on your armchair and lifted her arms, taking them to the back of her head as she relaxed on the furniture. her eyes shone brightly like rubies as she devoured your figure with them.

“turn on your record player…i wanna hear some rock n’roll, sweetness.” with trembling hands, you immediately attended to her request and reached over to turn it on, then chose a ‘she wants revenge’ disco. soon, the soft guitar swallowed the room as ‘out of control’ began playing.

“w-what now, jinx?” you asked with a scared tone.

“now…take off your clothes.”

“what?”

“i said take off your clothes. don’t make me repeat myself, toots, you are boring me to death and that’s very dangerous.” she sighed and you immediately complied. your hands shakily undid the buttons of your shirt and you ripped it off, your skirt following. as you were about to slide off your stockings, a hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your actions. you looked up to see jinx standing in front of you again. “keep these. these…these are staying, sweetheart. you ain’t taking them off, they look so juicy on you.”

“how are you so fast, i-i didn’t even see you stand up!”

“you are so entertaining, little one!” jinx laughed. “i am not human. nothing about me is human. not anymore.”

her small hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. your bodies were now flush together as she began swaying her hips with yours. it confused you and jinx seemed to catch on to that.

“i want to dance with you, sweetheart. if you please me, i might just let you go.”

shakily, you laced your fingers with hers and relaxed a tiny bit as she wrapped her arm around your waist, leading the dance as you both turned your living room into a ball room. the guitar and rock sound didn’t match the energy of your slow dancing, but it was fairly intriguing. it was sensual, erotic, even. the danger did seem more appealing to you now. this is a rather better way to die instead of being killed off with a bullet to your skull from someone you robbed in the past. your life wasn’t so glorious, but your death could be.

your grip on jinx became tighter and you put your head on her shoulder, sucking in a breath to inhale her scent. you wanted to feel her entirely. she smelled like the perfect mix of sweets and gunpowder. your breath fanning against jinx’s neck did things to her and you could hear her growl in your ear.

“i could find a better use to you than being dead, (y/n)...”

“i am yours. do as you please, jinx.”

that’s all the answer she needed to just throw you against a wall. your back slammed against it and you grunted, though before your brain had time to register the pain, jinx pressed her full body against you. her hand grabbed the back of your neck and tugged your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss.

her devilish sharp tongue slid into your mouth with ease and took dominance of yours. the grip on your hair led your face however she wanted. your breathy whimpers and how your touch on her faltered made her skin catch on fire.

"a-a h! jinx! jinx!” you moaned directly into her mouth when she slid her thigh between yours, her free hand gripping your hips and making it roll so your damped underwear humped her skin.

“that’s it, darling. that's my name. who makes you feel so fucking good, huh? i barely touched you and you are so desperate for me,” she moaned and reached over to unclasp your bra. “fuck, just look at these…so perky and delicious...fucking beautiful titties. they are all mine now. tell me who makes you feel like this…” she groaned and leaned down to capture your nipple in her mouth, sucking and licking it as her free hand groped your other breast.

“jinx! jinx!” you whined and gripped the walls, your fingernails scratching the yellow tint, desperate to hold onto something. eventually, you held onto her instead. reaching earnestly for the demon, your fingers grabbed her back, nails scratching the exposed parts. this made her go feral and pull back.

“you are such a good girl, you’re so much more fun like this, huh? i like it when they are needy. the sluttier, the better.” she breathed out.

you released a surprised gasp when jinx just tore your panties in half, leaving you completely displayed to her, with nothing but your stockings on. she looped one arm beneath your thigh and put it over her hip, hand sliding between your bodies to rub your slit. you let out a surprised whimper and jinx smirked.

“so fucking wet you are, pumpkin…hmm…” she took off her fingers for enough time to shove them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on her hand. “how good of a whore you are, darling. such a messy little pet i get to break, all mine, all for myself. no one else 's."

after she pulled it back, jinx returned her hand to its previous location. wet digits rubbed firm, fast circles on your clit. a hoarse scream left your throat and you bent forward, almost falling onto her, but she was strong enough to keep you up against the wall. your nails drew blood from her back and you were so overwhelmed that you bit her shoulder, jinx grunted under her breath and pushed two of her fingers into your starving, dripping hole.

her free hand gripped your chin tightly and forcefully pulled your face up so you were staring into her eyes. your legs were buckling beneath you and all you could do was moan. her fingers felt so good inside of you. each time she pounded into you felt like all thoughts in your brain were becoming jelly.

“don’t dare look away, princess. eyes up here, right on mine,” she chuckled and leaned in to spit directly into your mouth like it was nothing. you hissed and immediately swallowed it, feeling it go down your throat like the finest wine. “good girl. such a good little fucktoy i found all for myself. you feel so tight around my fingers. if only you could see how fucking pretty your little pussy looks swallowing my fingers, darling…mmhm, i might just become addicted.”

with her thumb and accompanying the rhythm of her finger-fucking, jinx began doing clicking motions on your clit, your eyes glossy and glued onto hers, mouth open as a series of drawn-out cries and dragged moans left your throat. you shook and rolled your hips, desperately chasing your so-needed release.

“fuck, you look so beautiful. cum. cum for your new owner, pumpkin. cum like the slut i turned you into…”

her command was all it took for you to release. you came like you never did in your life. you fucked her fingers through your aftershocks, still releasing needy whimpers as your whole body seemed to become overwhelmed with pleasure. you nearly collapsed in her arms, but jinx held you up.

her smirk was stamped on her face as she took in the marvelous sight of your ruined self. she did this to you. and she needed to see it again. not now, she didn’t want to break you that much. you were the best she’d ever had. you would be screaming her name again tonight, but right now you needed some aftercare.

jinx brushed the hair strands from your face and leaned in to kiss you deeply on the mouth, free hand still gripping your chin.

“i was going to kill you, but i found a much more promising use for you instead, toots.” she breathed out with her forehead against yours. “and i will not let them hurt you either, darling. nobody gets to kill you but myself. but i am not going to. not yet, at least, sweetheart. i wanna see how much further i can break you.”

❥๑TAGGING: @enforcermoss , @petitedeer , @ladylusts-world , @slutformommy793 , @mukurosbracup, @compressedwaterbottle.

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty six - you bring me home

frank castle x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content minors dni! (car sex lmaooo, mxf nothing you haven’t seen before, its pretty sweet <3) swearing, canon typical violence, mention of scars, injuries, blood, literally packed everything into this chapter its a big one

a/n: wow. this was so rough oh my god. the entire first draft deleted itself and i had to re write the whole thing from memory, so i lost my planned chapter. i really hope i got everything in here, and im sorry for the wait AND how long it is lmao but i just. can’t believe i really finished it. ill rant at the end, but if you only read this part, i love you. thank you for letting me share the absolute vomit that is my brain. you are the best.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How was the drive?” Franks voice sends a shiver down your spine, even hundreds of miles away through a crappy phone line.

“Boring.” You sigh, pacing around the tiny motel room.

“You were meant to call an hour ago. Got me waitin’ up for you.” He sounds tired, and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s stupid, but the image makes you a little giddy. Waiting up for you. 

“There was… traffic.”

“You get lost?”

“Fuck you.” You bite automatically and he groans.

“So yeah?” 

“Yes, Frank. I got lost.” He laughs, the sound managing to take your mind off the dark room you’d managed to secure for the night, the bedside light doing nothing to brighten the small space.

“I gave you a map. It’s a straight shot from where you started.” Rolling your eyes, you look at the map you’d now bundled into a ball and thrown into the trash.

“Who uses a printed map? Seriously, how fucking old are you?” It’s playful and familiar, and all the frustration of driving for 10 hours melts into the bed.

Being a key witness in a now ongoing case apparently didn’t come with any frequent flyer miles, because both Matt and Frank had said you couldn’t risk going through airport security and being flagged in a system, so it meant you had to drive nearly 18 hours to Florida. You thought you didn’t mind road trips, but after today you think it’s only road trips with Frank you don’t mind.

“Maps don’t change, baby. Besides, you’d drive yourself into a god damn tree the second that voice in the car told you you’d missed a turn.” You hate that he’s right— even the thought of that monotone voice droning in your ear for ten hours makes you cringe.

“Whatever. Tell me about something. You said you were going to speak to Madani today?” He’s the one sighing now, and clearly the talk was about as fun as your drive.

“She’s all over the place. Some mishandled evidence fucked their entire case, and Bobby’s lawyers were too well paid to let it go. Murdock said they’ll be able to find more— the appeal’s already been approved cause of how high profile it is, but he’s got no new evidence. He said he doesn’t know if they can get him.”

“That’s… what I expected, I guess.” Frank agrees, and your sudden silence only serves to bring the real issue to hand. “You know where he is?”

“Yeah. I got it covered.” The line goes quiet, and you don’t really know what to say.

On one hand, you want Bobby dead. You know can’t do it- it wasn’t smart, and the last thing you were going to do is drag everything Matt and Madani had worked for through the mud for someone like him, let alone put Sam in danger. Some fucked up part of you is a little mad that it won’t be you, but Frank has every reason to hate him as much as you. You know Frank wants this, and that telling him to stop is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Your hesitation would only spur him to do it faster, be more impulsive. You don’t want to say anything to put him off.

On the other, you just want him with you. You worry like some love sick child, scared he’s walked out the door and isn’t coming back. You worry he’ll get caught, and end up in the exact spot he was trying to get you out of. You’re scared he’ll get hurt, or worse. Every time you close your eyes you can see him bleeding out, dark red staining your hands until you can scream yourself awake. There’s so many things that could go wrong, and ten hours staring over the hood of your car gives you way too much time to think about hypotheticals.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Frank says softly, and you flop yourself back on the single bed.

“Are you?” He huffs like the question is irrelevant.

“Madani asked about your dad today.” He ignores the question, and you’re too interested to poke him on it.

“Oh?”

“Asked what he knew about your time there. If he ever worked with the Gnucci’s.” A lump forms in your throat.

“You think she knows about the weird... blood stuff?”

“Don’t see why she would. Either way, it’s not gonna matter once he’s dead.” The bluntness of it almost makes you laugh. “He’ll be gone, and no one will come for it. Or you.”

“You don’t have to do this for me, Frank.”

“I’m not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Alright, I am, but not just that. The shit he said to me in there— the things he said about you. The way he looked at you in there… I watched that shit, and there’s no way in hell that asshole does what he did and lives.”

“What if he was found guilty? Would you of left it alone?” Maybe if you’d been more helpful to Matt and Madani, it would of gone better, and Frank would be here.

“You want me to answer that?” A part of you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. That wasn’t who he was. It shouldn’t make you feel the way it does to know that Frank would kill for you— just to make you safe. It does anyway, and heat flushes over your face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He agrees, a low sound rumbling from his end of the phone. “I spent most of the day wishing you were with me, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Turns out I fucking hate driving.” He laughs again, and if you could listen to the sound all night you think you’d sleep peacefully.

“You remember how mad you were that first time I didn’t let you drive?” Shaking your head, you flick off the lights slide under the covers.

“I was mad because you had a concussion and tried to fucking kill us.”

“Least I was gonna go the right way.”

“You tried switching drivers on the freeway, Castle.”

“Alright, I was a a bit out of it.” He says plainly and you smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “Wished you were here, too.”

“I bet you did.” He groans, and you hear him shift on the bed. Your bed.

“Too much space in here. Didn’t even know we had this much blanket.” He makes a real noisy show of it, tossing around the blankets you usually roll yourself up in. It’s meant to be a light hearted thing, but for some reason the idea of Frank spread out on your shared bed, one that you’ve both used extensively— it makes your heart race.

“Dickhead.” He groans again, shuffling around some more. “This one’s too small. Probably have to sleep on top of each other if you were here.”

“M’alright with that.”

“Not a lot of room to move, though.” You look around at the room, hardly enough space to stand in the corner.

“We’d figure something out.” You let your eyes flutter closed, humming high pitched at the idea. “What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“You.” You admit, and he seems to like it.

“Me too. Haven’t gone a night in this apartment without fuckin’ you in this bed. Drivin’ me crazy.” You hum again, pressing your thighs together to try and dissipate the heat that’s suddenly overtaken your whole body. “You thinkin’ about it now too, aren’t you baby?”

“Yeah, Frank.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He growls, and you bite your lip to hide your laugh.

“Why not, Frank?” You practically purr the word, drawing it out and saying it all breathy like you do when he’s teasing you.

“Cause you’re gonna make me drive ten hours just to fuck you in whatever dirty motel you pulled off into.” You’re still smiling, but you think if you keep messing with him, he’d do it. He’d drive ten hours, a hundred of them if it meant teaching you a lesson. Or just being with you. “I’ll see you soon. Real soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, knowing if you keep talking to him your entire plan will crumble in front of you, because you’re half considering driving home just to sleep next to him. “Soon. Be safe, okay?”

The words tumble out, and you try to hide the guilt you feel when you say them. He was only not safe because of you— because you couldn’t finish the job yourself. You’re glad he can’t see your face, because you hear him mumble on the other end and your eyes close listening to him.

“Always. Tell the kid I said hi.” With that, Frank hangs up the phone, and you slide it onto the table right next to the pistol you keep loaded and ready to fire.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank pulls the saturated beanie over his head, and it’s probably doing more harm than good at this point, but he doesn’t have a second to really give a shit. His eye-line is perfect— directed straight into the penthouse apartment Bobby Gnucci was driven to three hours ago. He’s been tucked away in the corner of the rooftop for just as long, watching the man pace and yell on the phone.

It had taken him a few goes to get the right frequency to listen in on the calls he was making, but once he had he took as much information done as he could. He’d had enough of watching, and now he was satisfied with the phones calls he’d listened to that the man was alone for the night; not counting his extensive security team layered through the apartment block. Frank felt the familiar hum in his veins, shoving his loaded pistol in his jeans and swinging the strap of a rifle over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs, across the street and slipped into the back of the building.

There’d be witnesses if he didn’t take the right route, and to make this work he needed every chance at an alibi he could get. He was so used to not caring— every time he’d gone into something like this, he didn’t have something to get back to. He had no preservation, no concern for what came after. Hell, if he was honest, he didn’t care if he went out doing something like this. He would of preferred it, maybe even hoped he’d die somewhere in the cross fire.

Even just talking to you on the phone had him itching to get back to you now. He wanted to be careful— something he never really thought of before. A heavy ache in his stomach that twisted something violent when he thought about not getting home, not making good on his promise from a few hours ago, it made him sick. He planned as much as he could, as much as he was capable of, and hoped to God it was enough.

Frank hid his body behind the corner of the wall. He hid his face, too, even though he’d already had Micro’s help shutting out the cameras. He knew it would set off alarms for the security team, but he planned for that. They’d spread out, follow orders that he’d listened to over the radio, three men on all the entries and exits, and then ten through the penthouse. If he timed it right, he could clear the first few levels before the guards arrived.

He didn’t care about making noise now— slamming his way up the fire access while Gnucci’s men no doubt got into position. He’d just past a number 6, and Bobby was on the top floor. 23. He kept going, not hearing any doors open. When he passed 9, the door on the level below him cracked open and he jammed through the next exit he reached, getting into position.

He could hear voices coming from his right, and steadied himself as he turned the safety off his gun. He had a small army of men to get through, but he knew if he could make it, landing the hit on Bobby would be easy.

He wasn’t nervous. Pure adrenaline flooded him, like it always did, and he didn’t think twice before standing out of cover and pulling the trigger.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How have you grown so much?!” You nearly shout, hugging Sam tighter as he all but latches onto your leg. “God, you’re gonna be my height soon.”

“I missed you!” He says, words muffled in your jacket. You don’t even have to bend really, he’s that tall. It is even possible for him to grow that much in just a month? “Come! I want to show you my stuff. Me and Niko share a room, and it’s the coolest thing…”

You let him drag you around the house, showing you the bunk beds that are set up for him and Nikolai. He shows you books he’s brought home from school, and it makes you smile how chaotic his room is. There’s piles of books and papers everywhere, stuffed under the bed and nearly toppling on the tables. It looks like it’s lived in… like a home, and your heart warms and breaks all at once.

When he finally finishes his impromptu tour, he pulls you outside where the rest of the family has set themselves up, and runs out into the giant back yard to chase after Nikolai. You hardly had a chance to say hello to them, but if you were honest you hadn’t thought of anything but Sam since you saw him.

“Did he show you the bunk beds?” The doctor— Zaed, you remind yourself, comes up behind you on the deck. “He hasn’t stopped talking about showing you.”

“I thought he was gonna explode.” Zaed laughs, and you turn to look at him. He’s still sporting a scar across his forehead, and it somehow makes his older features look slightly hardened. His face was still soft, something about him gesturing kindness, an observation you never made in the months you were locked away. “He told me you made them.”

“It took me weeks. I am not very… handy.” Smiling, you turn back to watch Sam and Nikolai screaming and laughing as they chase each other with Nerf guns. “I am sorry for what happened with the case.”

“So am I. If he’d gone away, you wouldn’t have to stay in Witness Protection.” He nods, turning away for a second only to return and offer you a can of something. “What is it?”

“It’s Russian. You’ll like it— it’s strong.” You crack it open and take a long drink, hoping to drown the rising anxiety that kneads the back of your mind at the thought of what Frank was doing right now. “We don’t mind it so much here.”

“Florida?” He nods.

“We want to stay. Corinne thinks the children— with what they’ve been through, shouldn’t move too much. They seem happy here.” You hum in agreement, listening  to the light squeals of the youngest girl, who’s name you haven’t learnt yet, who’s got the biggest Nerf gun of all and is shooting the shit out of both boys. “It was my idea. To offer to take him in. If you are upset, please lay the blame with me—“

“Upset? God, why would I ever be upset?” He blinks in surprise, looking to you.

“You are here with him, and yet you still seem far away. I figured the suggestion was weighing on you. We only offer because… well, we have all grown quite fond of him, and for you— to you we owe our lives. I thought if we could make any of this easier…” You shake your head, finishing the bitter liquid in the can.

“You looking after Sam is about one of two good things I have going right now.” Zaed seems to relax, leaning forward onto the railing as you both stare out to watch the kids. “I think he’s happy here.”

“He is. He misses you, but he is happy.”

“And safe.”

“Of course. I pity anyone who would try to get past Corinne now.” You laugh at the tinge of genuine anxiety in his voice, as if he imagines it, but his eyes are full of admiration.

“I want to talk to him about it… make sure he’s okay, but if he wants to, I think him staying here would be the best thing for him.” Zaed doesn’t answer right away, just lets the echoed laughter of the kids fill both of your ears before he nods simply.

“He will be safe. And I am sure you will learn to love Florida, too, with how much you will visit?”

“What?” Again, a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Sam did not show you the spare room? We have cleared a space for you— whenever you need it. You… it is the least I could do. You saved my life—“

“Hardly.”

“I owe you it. My families life. My own. Whatever you should need here, the door would be open to you.” You have to look away, because it’s too much, and you don’t know when you became so soft that shit like this made you tear up.

“You don’t owe me anything. You keeping Sam safe is everything I ever wanted. I think we’re even now.” You laugh, your throat suddenly feeling a little tight.

“I couldn’t help but notice you arrived alone.” He questions, and you hide your face, unsure if the way you chew on your bottom lip gives too much away.

“Yeah.” No amount of alcohol could drown out the thought of Frank. You hadn’t heard from him in a day. Zaed looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he assess you.

“I thought he was going to drown with you that night. When he saw you go into the water… I recognise that look in a man’s eyes.” It seems so long ago now, and your hand instinctively goes to your stomach, where Frank sewed you up the first time. “He is coming soon, I assume? I doubt he would let you get too far from him right now.”

“Yeah, he’s…” You trust Zaed— but there’s only one person who takes precedent over the people taking care of your brother. “He’s just finishing up some stuff with the case in New York. He should be on his way now.”

“Ah.” He says, his eyes lingering on you in question. You say nothing, just sink a little more of the can. “Well, when he kills the ублюдок, I hope he makes it last.”

Before you can recover and wipe the shock off your face long enough to ask him how the hell he guessed what Frank is doing, Sam and Nikolai are in front of you, and Zaed disappears back into the house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank grunts, a loud nearly animalistic sound vibrating off the walls as he clears the 23rd floor. Every time he breathes out, blood sprays out of his mouth. He can’t tell if it’s his own or he’s just covered in so much that it’s dripping off him. Either way he can’t help it, chest burning for oxygen after he laid the lower floors to absolute waste.

He’d ditched the assault rifle somewhere between the 18th and 19th floors, not even bothering to pull out his pistol. No— he’d fought every single one of them with his bare hands, and anything he could find scattered between dead bodies.

His right hand was fucked, and he’s pretty sure he got shot. Somewhere on the right side of his body, there’s a shooting pain between his thigh and his ribs, but it’s not enough to slow him down. He shoves his body weight into the penthouse door, throwing himself into guards he knows are ready and waiting for him. He reaches for his pistol, shooting three guys in the head before his eyes adjust to the dimmer lights in the room.

He hears them shouting orders, and he kills three more as he crosses the living room. One of them he puts through the TV screen, glass shattering under his hand as he crushes the man’s skull between the hard surface. The other two he shoots, and then moves towards the last four. All of them shield the door to the bedroom— putting their lives on the line for a man who doesn’t deserve the air he’s wasting.

Frank doesn’t have a moral compass when it comes to revenge. Not when it has to do with the people he loves. It’s why he clears the round of bullets in his gun on all four of them in less than thirty seconds, watching the lifeless bodies pile up in the doorway, there isn’t a single moment that he hesitates.

“Bobby!” Frank shouts, his voice horse and so loud he’s got no doubt the dead hear it.

He hears shuffling, and drops the pistol before stomping his way through into the bedroom. He sees Bobby, crawling across the floor in an attempt to reach for a gun dropped by one of the guards, but just as he goes to reach for it, Frank slams a bloody boot down on top of his hand, feeling the crush of bone under his weight.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and Frank smiles sickly, blood dripping from his teeth. “Get the fuck off me, you animal!”

Frank kicks him in the face, two of his teeth flying out and scattering across the carpet. As he rolls over, Frank grabs him by the collar and sits him up, watching his head lull to the side.

“Wake up.” Frank slams his fist into his skull. There was no way he was passing out this fast. Not after what he’s done. “Wake the fuck up.”

His hands shake with how hard he’s holding Bobby upright. So hard he feels the bone of his collar begin to give, and Frank chases the idea. Bobby thrashes, screaming as his eyes shoot open, the sound kicking Frank back into gear. He lets go of his shoulder long enough to pull back, only to drive his fist and crack the rest of his shoulder.

“Help m—“ Bobby tries to shout, but Frank shuts him off with another well placed shove of his weight into Bobby’s stomach, winding him. He wheezes, the pathetic sound something like music to Franks ears.

He punches him again— over and over. Not enough to kill him, though. No, Frank wasn’t done, he was just feeding the thrill. He’d been waiting too fucking long for this, and there was something satisfying about seeing this man— this weak excuse for a man being blinded by his own blood as he cries for someone to help him.

“Ain’t no one comin’ for you.” He growls, and grabs Bobby’s face so it hangs straight. His jaw is slack, but his eyes go wide when he feels the blade at his ribs. “You know that? That there ain’t a single person out there comin’ for you. No one gives a shit about you. You’re alone in here— your life in my hands.”

“Haaa—“ Bobby tries but whatever it is fades out into a scream when Frank slides the blade between his third and fourth rib. Slowly— real fucking slow. “They… they’ll come. Th-They’ll come f-for me.”

“No one’s comin’. Dead. All of ‘em. You’re alone.” He slides it a little deeper, watching the realisation wash over his face.

In truth, Frank wasn’t doing this for him. Sure, it felt fucking good, and Frank was enjoying the sight of the life draining out of his eyes, but he wants him to know why. Why he’s here, why he took out every last man in this building so he knew there was no hope. No one for him to go to.

He knew that’s what it was like for you. Frank couldn’t give you back those years, and he couldn’t take that much time with this— he’d thought about it, but he wanted this to end here and now. He could do this here, for you. Could make him know just how it feels to have all that power beat out of you, and know that there’s no one out there coming to save you.

“Stop…stop!” He wails, and Frank hits him harder. Every crack of his fist sends Bobby further into unconsciousness, and when he manages to stop himself, he shakes him awake again.

He gurgles on his own blood, dark red pools choking out of his mouth. His face is unrecognisable, already starting to blow up as he strangles in a few short breaths.

“I can… I have money. I can p—“ The effort of the words sprays another load of blood out of his mouth, and even though he’s exhausted, Frank laughs.

“You think I want money?” He leans down, yanking the knife out of his ribs and shoving it in again.

“Fuck! What do you—what do you want?!” Bobby wails again. Frank smiles.

“I want you to know that she’s the reason you’re dead. The last thing you’ll know is me— my face, and you’ll know it’s because you ended up just like you made her. Except she got out, and you never will.” Frank loses sense of time, his injuries starting to catch up with him as he yanks the knife out one more time, before slamming it home into Bobby’s skull.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m watching!” You shout as Sam lines up again, taking a few steps back before rushing forward and kicking the ball towards their make shift goal in the yard. You have to admit, for only been playing a few weeks, he’s got a hell of a kick on him.

“See! I’m getting better— my coach says next year I can try out for the first grade team if I keep training!” He’s smiling so big, and then he’s gone again, picking up the ball to take another shot at Nikolai who’s got goalkeeper gloves on, ready to catch it.

You’d be happy to watch this all day, but then Corinne calls out to you, telling you your phone is ringing, and you all but leap over the railing of the deck. When you race inside, you expect to see Franks name, and your heart sinks when you don’t. You knew he wouldn’t be able to call until it was over, but it’s been nearly two days since you’d heard anything. Then, you see it’s an unknown number calling, and your hands are shaking when you disappear into what is meant to be ‘your’ room to answer.

“Hello?” You recognise the voice instantly when she says your name. “Fucking hell, Karen. You scared me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but are you?!” She nearly shouts, and you are still coming back to your mind with relief it wasn’t someone telling you Frank was dead. “I don’t even know how you did it, but I don’t want to. The way they found him… Jesus.”

“Wait. What? Karen, I’m in Florida.”

“What?”

“I’m with my brother in Florida. I came up here two days ago after the trial.” She goes quiet, and you can hear the commotion in the background. Remembering it’s a Tuesday, and that she must be at work, it only furthers your suspicions. “Who’s dead?”

“Bobby is. They found him. They found his body— but…”

“Karen, tell me.” All you need to hear is Frank wasn’t found. That he got out of there before anyone saw him. It would be your fault— all of it would be your fault if he was found. You needed to get back, you needed—

“Sorry. Sorry, I just thought… with everything that happened before, I thought it might of been you. Bobby’s dead, but… there’s nearly 50 men in the building with him. They’re all dead. And Bobby; he was hardly recognisable. It took them nearly 24 hours to identify him.”

“24 hours?” Frank needed to get out of New York as soon as he killed Bobby. If the police had been crawling around there for nearly a day… “Karen, I gotta go. Thank you for calling.”

You cut it off before she responds, and call the only number saved in your phone. It only rings twice before he answers, and you could nearly cry when you hear his voice.

“Stop fuckin’ ringin’ me, Murdock. I don’t know shit and I’m busy.” He grumbles through the phone, and you choke out something between a laugh and a sob. “Oh, fuck. Sorry— hey, sweetheart. Was just about to call you.”

“It’s… did the— job go okay?” You try to calm your voice as best you can, knowing that if anyone traces the call he’s done for.

“It took me longer than I thought. Had to get stitched up, then Curtis drove me halfway— passed out for most of it.” Before you can ask, he answers. “I’m fine, don’t do that.”

“You’re okay?” Relief floods your body, phone nearly slipping out of your hand with how hard you were gripping it. “Everything’s… everything’s okay?”

“Come see for yourself. I’m pulling up.” Like a kid on Christmas, you toss the phone and basically sprint to the front door, hearing an unfamiliar truck rumble down the isolated street.

He’s driving, clearly having ditched Curtis, but when he gets out he’s got a limp, and his hand is bandaged. You don’t run, instead you stand in the driveway and soak up the image��� Frank; leaning against the door of the truck, sunglasses covering up what you have no doubt are black eyes. Alive. Favouring his left side and still with dried blood on his head, but fucking here.  

“You’re hurt.” You say it when you finally reach him, but it sounds pathetic, closer to the tone you’d whimper his name in.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says huskily and reaches out, yanking you forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

The soft touch of his bandaged hand is opposite to the greedy grasp of his free one, the one wrapping around your back and fisting the material of your shirt, pressing so you were flush against him. Both of your hands cup his face, feeling the rough surface of his skin. You lose yourself in the taste of him as your fingers trace the patterns of scars peppering around his head— a constellation you’ve memorised a million times over, and yet it still feels as illuminating as the first.

He groans your name, sliding his hand up to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip. You lean back slightly, staying at close to him as possible. His eyes look you up and down, and there’s a glint in his eye; a hunger that never seems to be satiated when he looks at you. He’s still feverish for it, and it makes your toes curl in your shoes.

“Fuckin’ missed you.” He mumbles against your lips, and it makes you smile against his.

“I can tell.” His other hand forgets it’s injury as he searches your body, gripping your hips and pressing you closer.

“Get Sam. Let’s go home.” He tucks his head lower, mouth kissing under your jaw, and as much as you do want to get the fuck out of here with him, you pull away.

“He’s… he’s staying here.” Frank pushes the sunglasses off his face, looking at you through what is actually only one bruised eye.

“Staying?” You nod. “You sure?”

“I talked to him about it. He fucking loves it here, Frank. He didn’t want me to go again, but you should of seen him with them. They treat him like their own, and he adores them. It’s so much better than anything I could of thought.” Frank wraps his arms around your back and hugs you right, and your eyes flutter closed. “And you can’t just leave. They’re expecting you to come in and say hi.”

“Why?” The way he says it makes you laugh, as if you’d just asked him to drink gasoline.

“Come on.” You tug him by the wrists, and even though he groans and leans on you up the driveway, you both stagger inside and follow the sounds of Sam’s laughter, leaving everything else behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“They were being nice.” You haven’t wiped the smile off your face since you slid into the passenger seat this morning. “Well, I slept great. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“Mhmm.” Frank grumbles, clearing having a much worse sleep than you did.

It was sweet, and truely, you wanted to take them up on it. When Frank dragged himself through the front door of  where Sam had been staying, everyone had nearly jumped on him. Sam couldn’t contain himself, clearly trying to play it cool but simultaneously thinking Frank was the coolest person he’d ever met. It was sweet, the way Frank was with the kids, the sight making you both smile and want to cry.

Either way, when Corinne and Zaed had offered for you both to stay the night, Frank agreed and all but dragged you down the hallway after dinner. The spare room was nice— set up clearly for two people, and you were only human.

It would have been perfect— had the room not been sharing a wall with your brother and his new best friend. A very fucking thin wall. One that was nearly vibrating with how loud they screamed every five minutes playing some game on the TV. The louder they were, the more it became apparent that neither of you would be getting a lot of sleep, and not in the good way.

Having Frank that close all night but not being able to do anything about it reminded you of the start of this whole thing. How you shared a bed with him but had to force yourself to keep your hands to yourself. It was borderline painful, but eventually you managed to drift off to sleep, not missing how hard Franks hands were gripping your hips like he had to physically cement himself to stop from fucking you through the bed.

When you woke up, Frank had all your shit shoved in the car, and was outside cooking pancakes with Sam. You took your time saying goodbye— making sure to thank both Corinne and Zaed properly, and then promising you’ll be back. Soon. ‘So soon you won’t even have time to miss me’ you’d promised Sam, and he grinned and hugged you before disappearing to get ready for school.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Frank looked to you before shifting in his seat, one of his hands resting on your thigh and squeezing.

“Got a stop to make before getting back to New York.”  You’d been driving for a while now— about half way between New York and where you’d left Sam. You turned in your seat, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be cryptic.” You try to sound assertive, but you can’t seem to hold any resentment when you could feel the warmth of him palm on your thigh.

“It’s close, alright? Promise.” The words eased something in your chest, the same way his smile did when he looked at you.

A small silence drifted between you as a Billy Joel song hummed softly on the radio, and your head dropped, eyes tracing over the bruises left on his knuckles. Your fingers dance around them, careful to keep your touches light. You follow the lines of black and blue up over his wrist, watching them disappear under the arm of his jumper. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and when you push up the sleeve just slightly, you swear loudly.

“Fucking hell! Is this broken?” You pull the sleeve up higher, and you tighten your grip on his wrist when he goes to pull away. If you hadn’t watched him so closely, you would of missed the way he winced, and you let go immediately. “Sorry. Sorry— fuck, Frank. Is this all from—“

“I’m fine. Just a couple scratches.” He says, keeping his blackened eyes trained on the road. It would of been easy to miss— not seeing him without clothes since he’d come back. Bile rises in your throat at the thought he was hurt because of you— because he was doing this for you. Suffering for you. Like he has the entire time.

“Are you lying?” He shakes his head, and you lightly poke him in the side. He hissed loudly, flinching away from you and swerving the car. “Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.” Frank groans.

“You’ve been driving for hours, just—“

“It’s fine. We only got a few more miles till—“

“Please.” There must have been something in your voice, some kind of soft vulnerability that even he isn’t used to hearing, and then the car is pulling off the side of an empty highway, dusk rolling over the hood of the truck.

You reach out, pulling the sunglasses off his face to reveal him slowly. This part you’ve seen, but it still knocks the wind out of you. The cut along his cheekbone, not deep enough to need stitches but you know it will scar over. His right eye is a deep purple, the left nearly green. You go to draw your fingers over his face, but hesitate, worried you’ll hurt him. He sees you pulling back and catches your wrist, placing your palm between his cheek and his own hand.

“Don’t do that.” You choke out a laugh, smoothing your hand over and back into his slightly longer hair, pulling him closer over the console of the car.

“I’m not doing anything.” You say softly, something guilty in your voice. When he hears it, he shakes his head at you.

“Can read you like a book. You got nothin’ to do with this, alright?”

“I have nothing to do with it?” You want to laugh. “I’m the reason you were there. The reason all this happened.”

“I would of been in the same place with or without you. This part?” He gestures to himself, his torso that you know all too well is littered with scars. “This isn’t a part you blame yourself for.”

“But it is. My fault.” He opens his mouth but you talk first. “All of this… watching those kids today, watching Sam— all I ever did was put him in danger. And you. It’s better for him to be there, away from all this. Away from me. Maybe now all this is over, it would be better…safer, if you—“

“Stop. I don’t wanna hear that shit. You know how selfish you sound?” You blink a few times, eyes meeting his. At some point he’s leaned even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body thawing you out. “You’re right— I wouldn’t of gone back to New York the past two days if it wasn’t for you. You know why?”

“Listen—“

“No. I wouldn’t of gone back because I would of killed that asshole six months ago and been home in time for dinner. I’ve been doin’ this a long time, and there’s nothin’ you could of done that would of changed how this ended.” He holds your face up to his, rough hands holding you as gently as they could, and his thumb traces the scar just above your eyebrow. “Sam is safe with them, but don’t think for one fuckin’ second he’s better off without you. God knows I’m not. You’ve done nothin’ but good for that kid, and I’d… fucking hell. I’d be dead without you, you know that?”

“No you wouldn’t.” Your voice was so soft it hardly broke the silence, but he leaned in, his forehead pressing to yours. “You could probably jump out of a building and walk it off.”

“Maybe. But now I gotta be careful nd’ come home to you, don’t I?” He smiles, and then kisses you and you forget where you are. Words die on your tongue and are replaced by the taste of him, mind freezing over when he touches you. He does it every time. Every time he manages to take your breath away with one whisper of your name, one swipe of his thumb over your mouth. It’s intoxicating and dependant, something you never thought you’d want, but it feels so good with him. His hands drop to your waist, their pull demanding and needy as he yanks you up and over the centre console and onto his lap.

“I’d do it again. All of it. Kill every single—“ You kiss him again, squeezing your eyes shut, and he groans as you shift on his lap. “Fuck, baby we should wait till…”

“Till when?” You say breathlessly, and despite his words his hands are already sneaking underneath your shirt, his cool hands meeting your feverish skin. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and your hips roll forward again, seeking him out. “I want you now, Frank.”

“Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” He says and then crashes into you, your back nearly pressing against the dash with how quick he moves. Your gasp of surprise is lost in his mouth, and you can feel the sparks he makes in your chest crackling their way through you, toes curling in your shoes.

Your half bent backwards, legs in either side of his as he keeps your chest pressed to him, both arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. You tug at his shirt helplessly, getting it stuck around his arm and he smiles against your mouth, leaning back to look at you before whipping it over his head.

In the dark of the room last night you wouldn’t of seen it, but now the lights streaming in from the car window, and Franks torso is nearly a rainbow in it— blue, purple and green bruises all up his side, with a short but deep cut on the low right side of his abdomen. He’s taken the bandage off it too early, the stitches still healing, but you can tell it’s expert work. Much better than the botched job you did a month or so back, something he still bares the reminders for.

“Just… just a couple scratches, huh?” He grunts something illegible and hauls you back to him.

“Shut up.” He keeps you pressed close, not giving you a chance to say something back, but then his hands dip lower and you’re a goner.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah. Fuck waiting.

He’s got you here— now, on top of him, and he can’t even fucking think of anything else. Your hands are being so gentle and cautious when he really couldn’t care less about the pain, but you do. You always do.

He wasn’t gonna waste another second, and seeing your eyes close the second he got your pants off and dipped his hands between your legs… it’s pretty much as close to heaven as he was going to get.

You fall forward, Frank catching you with one arm and pulling you close while the other continues slow, teasing circles just how he knows gets you all worked up. Your head tucks away into his neck, and he lets you hide for now, but when he’s got you home— real home, then he’ll be able to look at you as much as he god damn wants.

Your hips move against him, chasing his slow rhythm, and he feels your teeth scrape agains this neck, wordlessly rushing him along. 

“You need me that bad?” He says lowly, and watches in awe the way his words wash over you and yank you closer to the edge. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t of left you so needy—“

“Fuckkk… right there—please.” Your voice was so high it cracks a little, and it fucking sets him on fire.

“Get my belt for me, baby.” He whispers, feigning a bit of self control as he watches you quickly fumble with the buckle. The slight brush of your hands could finish him then and there, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to try and remember why he wanted to wait. He had just one more card to play— one that you’d seen him play a few times before, but he doesn’t think you expect it this time, and he needed some semblance of composure to remember it.

A real house, white picket fence and all, smack bang on halfway between New York and Florida. He couldn’t leave New York, not ever, but he had a new anchor now, one that deserved to have it all.

Frank planned to take you straight home. Make a ten hour drive and keep his hands to himself, but how the fuck could he when you were like this? Looking like you do, touching him so fucking sweet and soft and saying how much you missed every part of him— it was a dream come to life, and one of the few moments he’d let himself go in.

You shuffle as close as the seat allows, your now naked chest pressing against his. He dips his head, kissing your jaw, and he’s suddenly surrounded by you. Arms around his neck, warm and soft as your fingers thread in his hair, both of you moan at the feeling of him sliding into you. It’s white hot and nearly painful, how even with the way you’re dripping down your thighs, it still takes you a second to take him all the way. You wriggle your hips, trying to settle yourself and Frank nips at your neck, slowing your pace just slightly. He can hear you sigh, but you listen. You always fucking do.

“Shit— so fucking good. You can take it.” He hums and runs his hands over your skin. You lean into the touch, and when you sigh again he sinks your hips lower, a short punch of your name bursting from his chest when you slam yourself down. “Fuck. There you go.”

He’s a wreck underneath you, and your hands slither away from his hair to his face when you pull him up to kiss you. As much as he loves the feeling of your hips grinding down ever so slightly right now, it’s this part he loves the most. The slow intimacy of it— how he knows he can stay right here for the rest of the day and nothing will change. He can feel how much you love it, how much care you handle him with, and it cracks something old and hard in his gut.

You shudder as he lifts his hips, keeping your mouths together and kissing hungrily. He’d think you’d both been starved for a year the way you two act, but he’d admit it to anyone that asked that he was gone for you. He knows it well and true, in his chest and in the way you bounce in his lap, moaning into his mouth like he’s breathing air into your burning lungs.

“Fuck— fuck, I love you. I fucking… Jesus Christ, you’re so good. I love you.” He can’t shut himself up, and your breath gets faster. He knows you love it when he talks. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you— wanna feel you. I know you want to.”

“Slow… Frank, you’re gonna hurt yourself—“ You suck in a breath and squeeze your eyes shut. His hands stay tight on your hips, and he feels the pleasure buzz under his palms, your skin nearly alight with it on top of him. “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He wraps his forearm around you and fucks you harder, any pain and injury burnt out by how tight you are around him, and how perfect you fit him. He’s close, so close that he’s hardly able to kiss you now. You both collide in a mess of tongues and sighs, and when he hears you croak out his name into his mouth, he knows you’re cumming for him.

He can’t hold himself back, chasing you into that high with blinding abandon. It hits him like a freight train, bowing him over you like he’s taken a hit, but it feels so good he can’t register that he isn’t breathing like this. He keeps kissing you until he’s sure he’s going to pass out, and only stops when you pull away, eyes darting to the highway where headlights slowly flicker on the horizon.

“Shit.” You say breathless, and you laugh. He can feel it, the sound shuddering through him from where he was still deep inside you, and your giggles soon turned to something less innocent when you heard Frank groan into your chest. “C’mon. Someone’ll see us.”

“Don’t move yet.” He puts his hands on your waist, fanning them out to reach as much of you as possible.

“Mhmm.” It’s like your body gives out at his request, slumping forward and moulding into him like you were made to fit this way. This was what he was talking about. The way you fit together— something that should be out of the question for him fits so right. “I love you, too.”

“Mhmm.” He copies and feels you smile against his skin. His hands trail up your spine, tracing the line of bones lightly to leave goosebumps in his wake. “What time is it?”

“Who gives a fuck?” You mumble, the words half muffled into his neck.

“I want you to see the house in the light, but you wanna go at it blind, be my guest.” It takes you a second, a scoff coming out of you before you sit up abruptly, making him groan again.

“House? What house? Another safe house.” Frank couldn’t keep a secret to save his life when it came to you.

“It’s a house. Twenty minute drive from here.”

“But New Yorks not—“

“I know. Good thing we got cars, yeah?” Your eyebrows are crossed together, and Franks thumb slips over the small scar he left on your face. The movement shifts your gaze to something softer, and he feels the brush of your eyelashes on his finger as you blink up at him.

“You did it on purpose. It’s right in the middle.” You say softly. “Jesus, Frank. You didn’t have to… I mean you—“

“Take a breath. I didn’t buy it. Was a gift from the US Goverment. One thing those guys are good for is their money. I just picked the spot.” He could nearly hear the rave of your heart, and you crushed yourself into him, words hushed and mumbled into his ear, but they melt him to the core all the same.

He’ll never get over hearing you say things like this to him. That you’re grateful for him, that he’s doing a good thing. It’s like nothing he did before you was ever good enough. There was always the next job, always the next group to track, but nothing would be enough. There wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for him. But here you were, telling him that he was the reason you were gonna be alright, and if he squints he can see it. The flicker of something hopeful, and if he holds onto you as tight as he can, he might just live to see it light him on fire.

“Did you say… you said twenty minutes from here. Why didn’t we just wait until—“

“Would’ve ruined the surprise.” You laugh again, and the feeling has him gripping you tighter. He leans closer to whisper in your ear, his voice low. “And I wanted to fuck you here and now. Don’t want there to be a single fuckin’ surface where I ain’t had you.”

“Better get driving then, Castle. Sounds like you got a job to do.” The glint in your eye nearly makes him drag you outside and bend you over the hood, but the kiss you give him after is sickeningly sweet, so much so that he lets you slide off him and back into the passenger seat without so much as a nip of his teeth. “Tha–”

“Wait. Wait til you see it.” Frank said, and something about the way he looked at you had you nodding simply, and watching the trees race by as he sped you home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were asleep on the balcony again, and Frank moved as slow as he could to let you stay that way.

In the two weeks you’d been here, he could count on one hand how many times you’d actually slept in the bed. There were no neighbours for miles, nothing interrupting the stretch of sky all the way to the hills. Even Frank had to admit it was a killer view.

He came inside, pouring himself a drink, and a strange pit in his stomach settled after the burning liquid soothed his throat. He can’t seem to kick that feeling when you’re asleep. When you were awake, next to him, there wasn’t anything else he could think about. But alone, walking around a house he owned, a life he might try and live staring him in the face, he felt guilty. There were parts of him he wouldn’t ever get back, but this wasn’t something he thought he’d ever have. Peace and quiet, time to himself. A woman he loved within eyesight, buried under blankets cause she was too stubborn to come inside when it got freezing. He couldn’t figure out why now, of all times, was the time to be thinking of Maria. The weight of the ring around his neck was like an anchor. He knew it was stuck on the bottom of the ocean, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go. He would sit there, hand cut up and bleeding, holding on for dear fucking life if no one moved him, waiting until he drowned.

Your footsteps were soft, in a way that he knows you can’t help. You tread through the open double doors, and Frank would roll his eyes at the way he could hear your teeth chattering if he wasn’t so distracted.

“You should of woke me.” You say, voice muffled from the mess your head was buried under. He took a step toward you, pushing it back so he could see your eyes.

“It’s late.”

“Couldn’t tell.” He can hear the smirk in your voice.

“You finally frozen to death, smart-ass?” You grumble something in reply, and he catches a few curse words before you look at him again. It’s nearly scary, the way you can read him with one sweep of your eyes. You clock his tone, the way he isn’t leaning into you with his full weight, and squint your eyes.

“What is it?” Frank sucks in a long breath, and kisses you.

He’s a complete idiot. That’s what it is. He can feel the buzzing pulse you wake in him, every movement of your lips on his rooting you deeper in his soul, chipping off ice until theres only warmth. How’s he supposed to tell you, after you’ve just kissed him like that, that he was thinking about his–

“You can talk to me about her, Frank.” You say with your head against his. Not it, her. Before he can ask, you smile a little. Even just a hint of that smile and he’s forgetting how to breathe. “You play with the ring when you’re nervous. It’s actually a bit of a tell.”

“Yeah?” He manages, hands trying to search their way through the blankets for you.

“Yeah. You have a lot of tells. For someone in your line of work, it’s actually a bit worrying.”

“You got me all figured out.” He says and means it, but you just roll your eyes.

“And you lean to the left when you think you can’t make a shot. You think it helps your angle.”

“Who woulda thought you were so observant.”

“You know, I actually did watch you when you were teaching me how to shoot.” Frank smiles, your skin finally under his palms. His hands splay on your back, and you lean closer.

“You were trying to fuck me the whole time. Don’t blame me for being surprised.” You try to whack him but your arms are pinned under the layers. Your laughter carries through him, skittering into his chest until he can’t help but laugh too.

“You came onto me.” He laughs harder. “It was very unprofessional. I was there to learn.”

“Damn fucking right I did.” His voice is low, and you shuffle around under his hold until your hands snake up behind his neck. His hair is too long, but he hasn’t cut it just yet. He tells himself that he hasn’t had time, but truthfully he likes the way it feels when you sift your fingers through the ends of it. Like now.

“You can tell me.” You say again, softer. He’s softer too– more malleable now you were here.

“I can’t help it.” He looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to where the sun is now just starting to rise. “She woulda… woulda liked it here. The kids, too.”

“You think so?” He nods, still staring into the orange sky.

“Probably would of had a lot to say about the inside, though.” You wrap around him tighter, head on his chest. “She was so good with those things. She loved when we painted our house. She had all these colors painted next to each other on the wall. All these different kinds of green. Everyone kept sayin’ it all looked the same but she... she could tell the difference. I could see what she meant when she put the couch next to it and shit, you know? She was real good with that stuff.”

“We could use her help around here. This place is sort of… ugly, on the inside.” He laughed again, his throat feeling tighter as he looked around. There was those same colour swatches, but none of them were coordinated like he was remembering. Pinks, blues, oranges and grays were all mixed together in big, sweeping strikes along the wall, stopping right above where your arm would be able to reach. “What would she have gone with?”

He looks down at you, your face washed in the light of the sunrise.

“The light orange. It looks good with the brown.” He nods over to the couch, an old leather one you’d made him pick up off the side of the road.

“We’ll do that one, then.” You tuck yourself under his chin, sighing.

“I think about ‘em everyday. What the kids would have looked like now. What they’d be doing. How Maria and I would of… raised ‘em. I was away all the time, but I just-”

“I think you would have been just fine.” You say into his chest, and Frank takes a shuddering breath.

“Why’s that?“

“Cause she was in love with you.” His chest tightens, and the grip he’s got on your waist gets a little tighter. “I’m… I’ll never be able to fix…that. It’ll always be with you, and nothing will change what happened, but I want you to know that they will always have a place here. You don’t have to apologize for talking about them– the kids, or Maria. I will never, ever not listen, and it will never be something I don’t want to hear. If they’re always with you, they’ll be with me, too.”

Frank takes two steps forward, and your feet pick up just in time to catch yourself before he throws you back on the couch. He’s never been good with words for things like this. He doesn’t think he should try to shove it all in a sentence, either. Not when theres so much he wants to say, but even more he wants to do.

You lay back, and he moves slowly. He wants you to know every move, every brush of his hand and his mouth is by design. He wants to know every square inch of you inside and out like you know him. He wants his hands to pull the strings, letting you hear all the things his mouth could never possibly form.

“Perfect.” Frank sighs against your mouth, over and over again. It was. You were. Are. The pit in his stomach disappears, pushed out and engulfed by the flames in his chest. There was no room for anything, not a single other feeling or word could possibly fit the way you two fit together. Your fingers tug at his shirt, and he takes it over his head. Your hands run and smooth gentle lines over his chest, over the healing wound on his side. It's jagged and wonky, and it nearly spelt your name. Frank thinks it’s the first time he’s looked down at himself and not hated to see the scars.

He unravels you like a gift to himself, savouring every moment even when you try to shrug off the blanket. You hadn’t dressed since last night, and Frank liked it even more this way. You sighed his name, and Frank shuddered, sealing his mouth over yours again. When his eyes opened for a split second, he could see your face, washed in orange light, and your hair swept to the side. He shut his eyes and kissed you again, the image seared into his mind forever.

Frank had faced a lot of bad things in his life. He had been shot, stabbed, pulled apart and put back together more times than he could remember. He thought he’d seen it all, felt it all before, but there was nothing like this. Nothing made him as weak as your fingers in his hair, and nothing made him as strong as the way you moaned his name. Nothing felt as good as sliding inside you, and nothing felt as empty as when you were gone. It made him lightheaded and brought him to the brink of consciousness, but he knew that this was right.

It could of been minutes or hours that had passed when he let himself go, but no amount of time with you under him would stop him from wanting more. The sun was up now, and Frank had you tucked to his side on the small space of the couch, legs tangled together in the blankets and each other. He felt you shiver against him, and the blankets wrapped around you had come loose. He bent to fix them, and when he moved you did it again.

He looked down, seeing the cold line of metal pressed against your bare back. The ring at the end was hanging over your ribs, and when Frank touched it, it was freezing. Holding it in his palm, it didn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and when he read the engraving on the back, he still felt cold.

Looking down at you, how you rolled over and sought him out even with your eyes closed, he leaned down to kiss the scar on your forehead. Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, he slipped the necklace off over his head, and placed it in a neat circle on the coffee table next to his head.

They would always have a place here. But it wasn’t them who gave him warmth anymore.

When he tucked himself back under the covers, he knew it was you. It was always you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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@allthingsavenger-y

okay theres going to be an epilogue at some point, but it will probably be small and have very little plot, so this is the end of the main story. so, heres a little rant for you. if you read it, thank you, and if you dont, thank you anyways. knowing anyone is reading my words is a gift enough.

i think i have been writing this series for like 5/6 months ish?? thats fucking wild. i dont have an exact word count, but all i know is its fucking long. i cannot believe i wrote this much about a fictional character, but damn. that is a lot.

basically all i want to say here is thank you. to anyone who has read, interacted, or will read in the future, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it might be a lil dramatic but having people read stuff i write, let alone actually enjoy it makes me so incredibly happy. starting to write on here, and for frank especially, is probably one of the best decisions ive ever made. this series was a struggle to finish for so many reasons, mainly my incredible lack of planning and overall dumb writing schedule, but i have met so many incredible people along the way, and i am just so grateful to have a lil space to share my work.

frank castle will probably always own a giant spot in my heart, so thank you for letting me share my version of him. and letting me add as much smut as i want to this with no complaints bc i fuckin needed it okay!!!!!! i love you all. rant over. series over. damn!

p.s. i am never not going to write frank. dont worry. i already have an idea for my next series lmao!!!!!!!! luv ya!

[nackrosor]

"Lady Strange"

Part 2/?

pairing: Eddie Munson x metalhead!Reader warnings: none yet series' general plot: heavy metal is one of your biggest passions and you like to express yourself by wearing heavy makeup and mostly black clothes, chains and spikes. Your parents however force you to hide your personality because they care about keeping up pretenses and don’t want people to label you as a freak. Something or someone unexpected might come in your life and shake things up. ;) episode synopsis: Eddie starts 'annoying' you at school. word count: 1,6 k.

-PART 1-

“Oof, wha-”

You wobble on your feet for a moment, staggering backward before regaining your balance and throwing a stink-eye behind your shoulder; the guy who has just bumped hard into you is walking away as casually as possible, as if he didn’t almost knock you over. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. What an asshole.

You let out an exasperated sigh while re-adjusting the shoulder pad of your backpack and moving forward in the corridor toward your locker. 

It’s a new shitty day and you're at your shitty school, surrounded by shitty people; a day in the life of a girl forced to pretend to be just another walking corpse and actually succeeding in being invisible, so invisible that others walk downright over you as if you’re not even occupying space. What a marvelous life.

The tight collar of your white shirt makes your skin itch and you unceremoniously pop it open, mentally cursing your parents for the millionth time for forcing you to wear such crappy clothes. “We can’t have you looking like a devil worshiper, can we darling?” Yeah well, people would definitely think twice before getting within 10 feet of the devil worshiper, let alone crushing into them. The sole advantage of looking exactly like everyone else is the anonymity that comes with it, but it gets old after a while, especially when you start feeling lonely, and you will get lonely at some point, there's no way around it.

You come to a halt as you round the corner, your stomach doing a somersault.

Eddie is beaming at you as he leans against your locker, arms folded across his chest. 

Hundreds of questions start to buzz in your head and as many stupid butterflies wreak havoc in your belly as you mindlessly resume walking, albeit at a slower pace than before.

You haven’t seen him in a couple of days, since Robin introduced you to her new group of friends last weekend and you had that weird anti-posers battle-thingy at the mall with him. But why is he now laying so nonchalantly against your locker as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do? Have you made it to the friend-zone overnight?

As soon as you’re within earshot, you glance up at him with a quizzical look upon your face.

“What are you doing here?”

Somehow his grin widens as he looks you up and down, “well, hello to you too, stranger.” 

He taps on the name tag on the locker, your locker, and purses his lips. "I'm looking for Y/L/N; have you seen her anywhere?"

You sigh and shake your head, casting a quick glance at your schoolmates passing by before returning your gaze to him.

“ No , wrong locker. That’s mine”, you take a step forward, urging him to back up as you reach for the lock, “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me take my lunch now.”

“Mmh, I don’t think so.” 

Instead of stepping away from it, he puts himself between you and the locker, blocking your way, arms moving to fold over his chest once more.

You snort incredulously at his antics as you stare up at him.

“I’m Y/L/N’s locker guardian. I need to hear the magic word to let anyone pass.”

“Eddie c’mon! I don’t have time for this.”

“If it’s your locker, you should know the password. It should only take a second.”

Even as you roll your eyes at him, you can feel a smile tug at your lips. Apparently everything turns into a game with Eddie and you can’t help but feel the thrill of it.

You humm, squinting your eyes at him as you mentally dip into the arcane knowledge you’ve hoarded from your favorite books and games, trying to think of something that could surprise Eddie, and why not, maybe even woo him a little.

“Mellon!”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, his mouth agape.

He staggers back, grasping the lockers behind him as he slips away in a rather dramatic fashion. His wide-open eyes, however, never leave you, not even for a second. 

You chuckle lightly and shake your head as you finally reach up for the lock and drop the book you were carrying. 

"Sauron got your tongue all of a sudden?" 

You pick a sandwich from your lunch box then push the locker door closed. Your smug look meets Eddie’s astonished gaze.

"You-you're telling me, you know The Lord of the Rings?!" 

" Know the Lord of the Rings?" you scoff mockingly, feeling a rush of confidence wash over you at the utter incredulity that seems to have taken hold of him. "That's the understatement of the century. I adore it! I worship it! Tolkien is my favorite author and The Silmarillion is basically my bible."

You can literally see his jaw drop to the ground and you can't suppress the snort-laugh that escapes you. 

"Are you fucking kidding me???"

His raised voice makes some passers-by turn to look at the two of you but he doesn't notice or doesn't seem to care.  You, on the other hand, recoil at your classmates' questioning glances and immediately hush Eddie, grabbing him by the vest and pushing him down the corridor. 

He wobbles a little on his feet as he tries to keep up with your hurried step. 

You cast one final glance behind your back before you admonish the longhaired boy with a pointed look. You then peel the napkin off your sandwich and give it a good bite, all the while keeping a swift pace to get as far away from the crowd as possible. You can’t let people talk about you and Eddie, you can’t risk your parents finding out about your new devil worshiper… acquaintance, friend, whatever he is. 

"Wait, wait, wait!", he pulls on your sleeve, trying to slow you down. "You listen to metal, you like Tolkien… Just tell me you also play the guitar and I'm done! I'm a goner!"

You eye him amusedly, noticing how his still wide eyes roam over your face, how he's literally pending from your lips. You can’t lie to yourself, the attention he’s giving you makes you feel rather giddy and you like the feeling.

As you take another bite of your sandwich you mutter nonchalantly, " bass ."

"What?" 

You swallow the mouthful and briefly clear your throat. "I play the bass guitar." 

He comes to an abrupt halt, causing you to stop in your tracks as well. He keeps blinking at you, a deadpan expression on his face. You don't have time to process what's going on before he clutches his chest with his palm and violently jolts backward, as if he's just been taken down by a sniper. 

"Eddie, what the hell! " 

He pushed himself backwards so forcefully that if you hadn't caught him, he'd have fallen on the floor and possibly hit the back of his head real hard. His entire weight is on your arms and your grip turns white, your muscles trembling, fingers slipping… You consider letting him go but fortunately, he comes back to his senses and helps himself up by holding onto the lockers by his side, getting dangerously close to you in the process. Your breath catches and your stomach does a flip as his gaze briefly flickers down to your lips before meeting your doe-eyed look. You can feel your heart thumping hard in your ears, from the save or his sudden closeness, you can’t really tell.

“Great catch, princess…”

Perhaps it’s only your perception but he sways closer, leaning in as if he’s about to…

You step back in a panic, heat rising in your cheeks, mouth dry.

Eddie looks dazed for a moment, then an infuriating smirk takes form on his lips, which makes it easier for you to snap out of it, too.

"Y-you're crazy!" 

" You’re crazy! Murdering me like that!”

You shake your head with a sigh, throwing your hands up in the air. A mushed pulp on the floor catches your attention and you immediately look up to glare daggers at Eddie. “You owe me a sandwich now!” 

“Forget about the sandwich!”

His hands grab you by the shoulders, causing you to yelp, and start pushing you toward the end of the hall. “You must meet the others! They’ll go mental over this! They didn’t believe me when I told them you listen to Def Leppard, they said I was full of shit, that I got tricked by a girl, those stupid bastards -”

“Hey, hey! Wait, stop-”

You press your feet hard against the floor to slow him down but to no avail. The odd looks thrown your way make you fold on yourself and you let Eddie drag you toward the cafeteria without any more resistance.

“Don’t worry, princess, they’re gonna like you! Well, they’re gonna grill you a bit first, I can’t lie. We’re all a bunch of losers with trust issues. You gotta be patient with us… but I’m sure you’ll get used to it pretty quickly and-”

He’s interrupted by the loud sound of the school bell signaling the end of the lunch break and you let out a deep sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking advantage of his temporary stupor, you slip out of his grasp and take a few steps backward to put some distance between you two.

He looks rather disappointed and he doesn’t hide it as he moves his gaze on you.

“I’m sorry but I have to run to class…”

“ But -”

You give him a quick salute with your hand, your heart in your throat, and turn on your heels, hurrying down the corridor before he can do anything to stop you. You can hear his booming voice calling after you:

“You won’t elude me next time princess !”

MORE STORIES 🥀

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

[steddieficrec]

Some teen fics I've read (and reread) recently that I loved.

sounds like sweet talk to my ears by judasofsuburbia

(1/1 I 1,633)

"You just gotta practice on someone with zero stakes,” Eddie exclaims.

“Like who?”

Eddie gestures to Robin who cackles loudly.

“Not a chance,” Robin says.

“I’m not fake flirting with Robin. Gag.”

Eddie’s mouth twists. His next sentence is on the tip of his tongue, fighting to come out of his mouth, but his brain is screaming don’t, don’t don’t‒

“Practice on me,” Eddie blurts. His voice is meek so he clears his throat and puts on his most encouraging smile.

or: after watching steve strike out again at the scoops ahoy counter, eddie suggests that steve try flirting with him as practice. no harm, no foul, it's just pretend, right?

another version of me (i was in it) by badfanfictionaire

(1/1 I 2,651)

Eddie can’t not see it. Beneath the crappy hairpiece and comical purple lenses, there’s only one person this Djo guy could be: Steve Harrington. He’d recognize the happy trail peeking out from his striped crop-top anywhere. It’s the same one that’s haunted his dreams since he last saw the guy at a pool party in ‘86.

just watch me now by ilip13

(1/1 I 6,000)

"Dude, you’re not a sellout." Steve leans in his direction, arms crossed over his knees, gaze intent. Eddie looks away. "You’re amazing."

Eddie groans.

"Seriously," Steve continues relentlessly, driving the point home. "Those lyrics — no one writes like that, man. It was easier to save the world than to ask you for your number? I thought it was brilliant."

Oh, if only he knew.

*

Eddie's unrequited love song accidentally becomes a hit.

too good to deny it by unkreativstermensch

(1/1 I 11,793)

“Well, apparently…you uh had some fun too, huh, Steve?” Eddie’s voice sounded weird, almost like there was an accusatory undertone. Steve’s frown deepened. This was about him finding someone to make out with?

“Yeah? What about it? I know I said I’d make sure you were safe and everything, but does that mean I can’t enjoy myself? You were both pretty preoccupied, weren’t you?”

“I-” Robin actually looked speechless. “Of course you can, just…it was…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, frustrated. “That was a guy, Steve!”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Robin blinked. “A guy,” she repeated, an exasperated expression on her face, her hands making some sort of gesture, underlining the word.

“I know,” Steve said, in the same manner, starting to get frustrated now, too. “Was pretty hard to miss with his dick against my thigh.” He narrowed his eyes. “No pun intended.”

  or: 5 times Steve enjoys kissing boys and 1 time he realizes what that means

Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by gr0gu

(4/4 I 16,946)

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Steve was supposed to work with Robin at the Family Video, flirt with the many many girls who came to browse the expansive selection of VHSes, go on some dates, and hopefully find The One.

It was supposed to be a notably upside-down free year.

And, hey, for what it's worth? He wasn't supposed to be pinned down on a mattress by Eddie Munson either.

And he certainly wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.

But that's getting a bit ahead of things…

if you fall, i will catch you by mseg_21

(3/3 I 29,930)

“So, about prom-” Buckley starts.

Eddie instantly cuts her off. “Still not going,” he says, fiddling with the candy display on the counter.

“I know, I know,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Steve told me to stop pestering you about it and to leave you alone.”

Eddie bites down on a smile. It’s easy to picture Steve with his hands on his hips and his best Stern Mom Look as he tells Robin to leave Eddie alone. He’s witnessed it multiple times. With the kids, and a few times with Eddie himself.

“You don’t have to come to prom with us,” Robin says. Eddie doesn’t even get the chance to do a celebratory dance before she continues. “But how do you feel about us having our very own prom?”

“Us?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow at her.

or Eddie refuses to go to prom so Robin suggests a fake prom at Steve’s house. There’s dancing, misunderstandings, feelings realizations, a Prom King and Queen election, and Steve acting like Eddie’s prom date the entire night

down too long in the midnight sea by spacenarwhal

(2/2 I 42,121)

If Steve’s being completely honest with himself, it was probably only ever a matter of time before he lost his mind.

He’s certainly taken enough hits to the head to justify it happening.

Still, Steve didn’t imagine going crazy would go quite like this, standing on the heat-parched yellow grass outside Max’s trailer, looking at a ghost.

[Or: The, alleged, haunting of Steve Harrington.]

sub-culture by palmviolet

(13/13 I 60,702)

“Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.”

or, steve is pretty convinced eddie now hates him. turns out eddie has the opposite problem.

the other hand knocking by greatunironic

(10/10 I 102,211)

Since he was eighteen, Steven Harrington knew he would not marry: there were many factors, but chief among them were that he had, he knew, given up his chance for true happiness when he had allowed his mother to persuade him from accepting Edward Munson’s proposal.

Or: a Regency AU.

i can't tune you out by hairstevington

(28/28 I 113,115)

Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock and roll artist living in LA. Steve Harrington (under the stage name HARVEST) has been taking the radio by storm lately. When the fans start shipping them together as a couple, Steve and Eddie consider it an opportunity to boost their upcoming albums. There's just one problem - they can't stand each other.

[luckyqueenreign]

ok so I just went back and replayed and just noticed that Lewie was holding hands with Ivy when they came back from their date and then dropped them as soon as mc saw. now I know this is probably just bad writing from fb to try and make it seem "suspenseful" but all these little things are starting to add up. first you continue to go have private chats with Ivy even though you know her motive, then the hand holding thing, and now apparently you can't tell the difference between mc and her twin. ohh and also the "it's noted" thing during the challenge. I still think he will probably end up being a loyal LI but they're ruining his character by adding in all this unnecessary drama cuz it just makes him look like a lying sneak at worst or completely clueless at best.

bestie this is EXACTLY what im talking about!!! either fb is really doing a crappy job at building up the suspense or Lewie isnt as great as we all think he is.... like what happened on the date that you cant talk about?? why drop her hand the second u see us?? why stop the kiss only when you make eye contact with us?? WHY NOTE ANYTHING?? ITS FISHY!!! and if they dont show us on movie night wtf happened on that date I will be so mad!!!

[lilover131]

Clear Card Chapter 72 Analysis

Sorry for the delay y’all! Still dealing with some real life stuff, but I’m in a much better place emotionally! I’ll try to make sure I’m not so late next month!

In this chapter, not a lot actually physically happened, but we DID get answers, some of which I’m not sure how I feel about. Enjoy my “gif of the month” above (trademark from Cinzia. Hahahaha) and my thoughts below under the cut! I apologize again in advance for the crappy red page screenshots from youtube. I currently have no way to get good quality English scans, so this is how it’s gotta be for now! 

The color spread is GORGEOUS as always, but has a rather lonely and somber feeling to it. Sakura has an expression like she is empty and missing something, and maybe the ‘jewels’ in front of her represent the memories she has lost as a result of the timeline change. Beautiful, sparkling memories, and she absentmindedly reaches towards one with such a gentle looking cradle. The crystal she reaches for reminds me quite a bit actually of the crystals that actually showed memories in Clockland. I could be overthinking it, but honestly when you’ve read CLAMP mangas as long as I have, you find yourself doing it a lot. Hahahaha.

 The chapter itself starts off with Lilie and Sakura meeting in the dream world, right where we left off in the last chapter. Sakura remarks about how Lilie looks just like Akiho, and Lilie seems overjoyed by this. But of course she would be, she’s her mother! However, the tone shifts not long after when Sakura asks her if she knows Akiho, and the look on Lilie’s face is so painful. She’s clearly saddened to never know her own daughter, and to know in this timeline that she’s not even her daughter at all anymore must be heartwrenching. To make matters worse, this version of Lilie is still only a child, so it must have been so difficult for her growing up just knowing everything that would happen after. She probably had to grow up faster than most children, and especially with so much pressure from her clan on top of things!

Lilie explains that she had tried many times before to talk with Sakura directly, but she seemed to get mixed up in her premonitions instead and was unable to say anything. Flashes of dreams Sakura has had in the past show, such as the beginning where her key was being pulled, the dream with the dragon, and all of these were apparently intended to never have a cloaked figure at all. Every dream with a Cloaked Figure appearance was literally just Lilie trying to talk to Sakura. LOL. 

 We then finally get an answer to a big question, and that is regarding the Cloaked Figure Syaoran. Turns out Sakura was having a dream of Kaito pretending to be Syaoran, and Lilie got mixed up in this one too, so it blended together to make what we saw as Cloaked Figure Syaoran. I’m glad we have answers, but I’m also somewhat…frustrated? It feels awfully anticlimactic in the end and turned out to be a Lilie oopsie, but I’m also frustrated cuz’ I made like a BAJILLION THEORIES ABOUT THIS AND ALL OF THEM ARE WROOOONNGGGGG!!!! -huffs- I give up. Clearly trying to theorize about CLAMP series is futile and they will always, always trick you.

 -deep breath-

 I was kinda hoping for a slight Syaoran brainwashing for funsies and drama, but alas it seems that is not the sort of story CLAMP is going for, and that is all right. I have seen plenty of amazing Syaoran moments in Clear Card (WHICH WE GET TO SEE ANIMATED NOOOWW), so I really can’t complain.

 Lilie also clears up another question we’ve had by stating the cards Sakura made in the previous timeline no longer exist, but her connection to the Sakura cards are stronger than ever. She also mentions that the power of the forbidden magic can only rewrite history so far back and cannot go beyond the time the caster was born (aka Kaito). Because of this, there are parts of Lilie’s past he could not rewrite due to her being older than him. This is also why Lilie is reaching out to her at this age, since this is a time before Kaito is born and could not be touched by the magic.

 She tells Sakura that she has a message for her, and when asked if she’s able to see the future, she advises that she can, and even the future beyond her death. Sakura, being the caring person she is, seems worried about her. Surely she’s heard stories from Eriol about how tough it was for Clow to always see the future, and he never wanted that for Sakura. She asks Lilie if it hurts to always know what is to come, and Lilie, although seeming sad about it, has a absolutely beautiful response. “The things I can do…and the things I can’t…make me the person I am”.

 Honestly, what a wonderful thing to say. I feel like this can really be taken to heart for nearly all situations in life. You are you. Do what you can, and don’t distress over what you cannot. You are still you, and these are all pieces of the puzzle that makes you.

 Lilie then gets to brass tax and tells her exactly what she needs to hear. She tells her straight up that her memories and life have been rewritten. Sakura is obviously very surprised by this, and Lilie goes on to state that Kaito even mislead Momo into thinking his intention was to swap Sakura and Akiho (now I feel much less bad for thinking the same, considering even Momo was fooled, but it also confirms that this is exactly what CLAMP wanted us to believe). He deceived Momo so she would not know his true intention was to take on the artifact himself, because clearly she would’ve absolutely smacked the shit out of him and talked him out of it. Because Momo believed he intended to switch the girls, she tried to give hints to his ‘motives’, but because she too was deceived, she was off the mark in her warnings. Lilie even calls him an idiot basically in a whisper, and I just find this hilarious. He’s just going to be marked ‘idiot’ for eternity. But one thing Momo said still reigns true even though she was wrong about his intentions, and that is the question of “What is Happiness to you?”. Lilie tells her that her answer and the ‘other Alice by her side’, are one in the same. And we all know very well what this is about. Obviously happiness to Sakura and Akiho is to have the ones they love by their side, and dammit that includes Kaito!! Lilie confirms this by stating that what happiness could there possibly be in a world where the people you hold dear are gone (I’M LOOKING AT YOU KAITO).

 It's at this moment that the dream starts to break, and Lilie advises that she likely will not remember the conversation they had after she wakes due to the forbidden magic being able to reach her, however Lilie is safe due to existing in a time it cannot touch. Before Sakura is kicked out of the dream, Lilie tells her she believes in her, and goes on to elaborate the both of them, which includes Akiho.

 With that, Sakura wakes up in Syaoran’s arms, and he is clearly very worried about her. But one very interesting and telling thing is how Syaoran responds to her here. Sakura says “huh..?” and he says “Don’t you ‘huh’ me!”, which very much reminds me of the somewhat snarky Syaoran we knew and loved from the original series. 

Cinzia very graciously confirmed that the Japanese speech isn’t much different here, and that it has the same tone. So what this tells me is that Syaoran never actually changed at all. The version we have seen of him in Clear Card so far was him essentially constantly worried and trying his best to protect Sakura. But in this timeline, where none of this has happened, he is far more at ease and can be his true self, like Yue once spoke of. He mentioned Syaoran was always honest in his feelings and how he expressed them, and he has been hiding that. This is a flash of Syaoran’s true real self!! So to all the people who said they didn’t like Syaoran the way he is now and how he’s changed, I leave you with this.

 Sakura says she had a dream about someone who looked like Akiho, and even Syaoran teases her a bit and says something about a “sister complex”, and honestly I find that really funny. Syaoran legit thinks Sakura is just dreaming about her own twin sister. Hahahaha. But he quickly realizes this is different and that she might’ve had a premonition. Sakura states she can’t remember, but she  does remember that whatever it was that was said to her was important, not just for her, but for everyone. She seems determined, so I’m sure she’ll figure it out.

 The chapter ends there, and I think in the next chapter, it will likely have a lot more Akiho, perhaps something to do with the watch she’s been left by Kaito, and I think this will help trigger Sakura breaking through the forbidden magic. What happens from there, I have no idea…but it should be fun!

 Until next time!

[biwritesfics]

Constellations of Us

Part 1: The Big Bang

2K words

AN: This is a very self-indulgent marauders fanfiction. It has many queer ships including eventual WolfStar x Female OC the others will be listed in the tags. I tried my best on the French I deeply apologize to everybody that actually knows the language.

Summary: Arabella Canis didn’t want to transfer to another school for her fifth year but after a certain incident her father will have nothing else. Ten lives are connected through love, hate, and war. A constellation of souls written in the sky. The question is, will they paint the heavens or go down in flames?

⚠️ warning minor mention of death and a crappy dad⚠️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cracking sounds filled the foyer as the house elves moved my luggage for school. I had only been in the new house a week. I hadn't seen Papa once, he was too busy with his new ambassador position. Seemingly so busy that he wasn't coming to say goodbye. My thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang. The sound of my father's assistant Tarte apparating.

“Your father sends his regards Miss Bella. I'm terribly sorry that he couldn't make it.” “Its alright Tarte,” I say trying to muster up a smile for the elderly house elf. He pulls a small box out of his red velvet suit jacket. Tarte always dressed sharply and colorfully. He wore a blue tie that matched his eyes. The ribbon on the box was the same color.

“Lord Canis had me buy this for you.” I take it having a fairly good idea of what it is in mind. I untie the ribbon in one smooth motion, and place it in my pocket. My focus moves to the little velvety box. It pops open with a crisp snap. A grin spreads across my face the moment I see the contents. It's an ornate little silver charm in the shape of a unicorn. I kneel down and embrace Tarte feeling tears thick in the back of my throat

“Thank you,” I whisper, pulling away from the hug. I look down to admire the charm. Suddenly my eyes snap up in recognition “You remembered my wand core,” my heart melts realizing the connection. Tarte nods his head blushing nearly the same shade as his suit. “I could never forget Madame Bella. I was present the day you received it.”

“If Papa forgets to pay you send an owl and i’ll send one to Gringotts. Papa transferred the family vault and my funds too.” I remind him sternly knowing he would never ask otherwise. He nods, “I best be off Madame, I wish you luck” With a jaunty little bow and a jarring sound he's gone.

“Madame It's just you and the cat now” Amie, my personal house elf says tugging on my sleeve. I look down startled “Oh my how did I let it get so late? Have Pluie grab Bonbon while I fasten this and we’ll be off” She scurries off to get Pluie while I fasten my charm to my bracelet. I have three others already. My first initial, a clementine, and the Eiffel tower.

Pluie comes down the stairs with Bonbon, my Persian cat. She's practically spilling out of the small elf’s arms. The feline leaps down and bounds over to me. I pick her up and bury my face in her fur. I'm sure she's covering my black robes in hair but I'm too content to mind. I would definitely miss the Beauxbatons uniforms, along with other things, but this was going to be just fine. Hogwarts was going to be just fine, I remind myself.

Amie smiles up at me offering her hand. I take it clutching Bonbon close to my chest. No matter how many times I rode along with the elves I could never quite prepare myself for the pulling and twisting sensation of apparating. After a few moments of the most genuinely disorienting experience,we’re standing on platform 9 ¾. There are only a few stragglers left saying their final goodbyes. “Be careful Ellas we need you back in one piece” Amie warns me as she hugs my leg. That was goodbye.

I make it onto the train just in time, I'm last to board. Once Amie is out of site I begin peeking into train cars but they're all full four to a bench. Well there's one with space but the students inside glare at me when they see my face in the window. Green ties, Slytherin. I'm about to give up hope when I find one that has a seat to the far left.

I move Bonbon to one arm and open the door. The occupants looked startled. “Pardon me, I'm sorry to bother you when you're already full but the only other car with an empty seat is filled with very unhappy Slytherins.” My accent is even thicker than usual because of my nerves. “Of course! Come on in we have an extra seat.” A redheaded girl waves me in.

I smile, finally relaxing a bit. The boy at the window seat slides over and closes his book. “You’re welcome to the seat but be warned the other two are whinging terribly because our dear friend is finally showing some independence,” he feigns disdain at the two dark-haired boys to his right. “It's not independence Moony, it's betrayal!” Exclaims a beautiful black-haired boy as he lays back dramatically on the more serious boy.

I giggle and sit down while the two boys bicker. “I'm Lily Evans” the redhead introduces herself.”I'm Arabella Canis I have more nicknames than I can keep up with so I respond to anything.” Lily laughs. “I'll introduce you to the guys,” she starts. “The boy currently fighting for his life is Remus Lupin and the drama queen torturing him is Sirius Black. The one that looks like someone kicked his Puppy is James Potter. The poor soul they're all fussing over is Peter Pettigrew. He's a sweetheart, he's just sitting with his girlfriend.”

“This is not a “just” situation Evans, my mate is slipping away!” the boy exclaims running his hands through his already wild curls. The model-like girl next to Lily rolls her eyes twirling her braids between her Fingers. “I'm Dorcus Meadows, the girl in the window seat beaming at you like a Maniac is Mary McDonald. We swear she's sweet, we just need to work on her socialization.” she jokes with a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Oh shush Dorie!” the girl says in a strong Yorkshire accent. “Did you come from Beauxbatons Arabella? I don’t recognize you, and your accent is lovely!”

“Thank you! I am, my father had to transfer for work so I did too.” “Ooh pretty and French Sirius doesn't stand a chance once he's done sulking. I'm Marlene Mckinnon, pleased to meet you” the sandy-haired girl greets me. Remus’s face twists into a vicious scowl but only for a moment, I almost think I imagine it. “Same to you but I'm sure I’ll scare him off quite easily.” I'm usually so much more reserved around strangers but their mirth is contagious.

“I am both offended and intrigued by this conversation ladies but I'm sad to announce I am celibate. no snogging, not even hand-holding. The female population of Hogwarts must carry on without me.” Sirius gave the speech like it was a eulogy. It was followed by multiple snorts and “Sirius are you joking?” “Nope it's real and I'm doing it,” Sirius states firmly.

Dorcus pulls a small box with an open slit on the top and a drawer on the front. “Alright, who's betting on when he caves? 1 galleon minimum. Everyone, even James who was sulking, began searching their pockets and scribbling on paper. “You write your bet on the paper and fold it and Sign your name on the front. Slide it in with your coin and when the bets over the drawer opens with the prize and the winning bet. It's some complicated charmwork Lily and Dorcus cooked up to stop cheating.” Mary explains kindly.

I pull out two galleons and a small piece of parchment, Mary loans me her quill to use and I give the boy two weeks since it seems everyone else has such little faith in him. It takes a bit of maneuvering to get everything together without disturbing Bonbon who was napping in the crook of my elbow. Remus is looking at me with an expression I can’t decipher, which is unusual I’m usually quite good at reading people.

The clink of the coins hitting the bottom of the box is satisfying. “ 10 galleons James you're nuttier than a pecan fudge,” Lily exclaims as she deposits her galleon along with a couple of sickles. “Evans I'm mad for you but otherwise very sane,” James says smirking. Lily blushes a shade that rivals her hair and gestures angrily in James’s direction while everyone else giggles.

Remus checks his watch “Lily we better go meet the other Prefects it's about time,” he remarks. “Oh! yes, just one moment.” Lily pulls her robes over her uniform revealing the shiny pin attached to the chest. Remus removes his badge from his pocket and pins it on his shirt. “See you all at the feast!” Lily calls out, exiting the compartment with Remus a bit behind her.

It's only a moment but Remus looks in my eyes and I feel a shiver go down my spine. Not the bad kind, the one you got when you're so excited you can't stay still. He waves goodbye to everyone but his eyes linger on Sirius in a familiar but peculiar way I can't quite place. When he closes the door I realize what must’ve been only a moment had felt like an hour. Everyone else seemed relatively open but despite running with the rest of the group Remus seemed like a lone wolf.

I've always had frustrations with people who are hard to read.. I have a selfish and unrealistic desire to know people’s souls inside and out. I guess it's because I'll tell anyone anything if they ask, but it would be rude if Iasked some of the questions I had. Like Where did you get your scars? Did someone hurt you? Why are you so good at masking your emotions? Do you dislike me or are you like this all the time?

I’m brought out from my internal monologue by someone’s voice. “Arabella, Bella, Chaton écoutez-moi” Sirius repeats. My head snaps up blushing. It wasn’t the romantic version but still a pet name. “Je m’excuse” I apologize. “It’s time to get off” Sirius informs me, gesturing toward the station. “Oh! thankyou,” I say embarrassed that he had to tell me.

“The girls and James are waiting in the carriage” Sirius states as I stand up with Bonbon in hand. I follow him to the exit, and he steps off the train before me. He offers his hand to steady me when I step down. I can't help the fuzzy feeling it gives me despite the fact that I'm sure it's an automatic reaction. Most likely from years of etiquette that pure-blood children go through.

“Oh!” I run ahead towards the carriage the others are in. The black-winged beasts drawing it receive my affection gladly nuzzling my shoulders. I look up, James, Marlene,and Mary look shocked but Sirius and Dorcus just look a bit sad. “Is something wrong,” I ask turning back to Sirius who seems very interested in his combat boots. “No it's just,” he pauses. “You can only see thestrals if you've seen someone die,” Dorcas finishes.

“Oh, I thought that was a myth,” I whisper. I give each of the thestrals a peck on the nose and hurry into the carriage. When I step up Sirius steadies me with a hand on the small of my back. It gives me butterflies.

Merlin! Why did he have to be so pretty? All of them were gorgeous and hilarious. I spend the rest of the ride in fits of laughter.

I'm happy to observe that just about everyone is physically affectionate. It was something I could get used to. It would be nice to hug people who are taller than the house elves. James already has his arm around my shoulder. He's warm, charming, and witty. just what I imagined a brother would be like.

Sirius was dramatic and flirtatious with a wicked attitude. Marlene was kind and had a dry sense of humor that was going to be the death of me. Dorcas was all sass and sarcasm but you could tell there was no real malice in her words. Mary made bad puns and looked at everyone with adoration in her eyes. I knew right then that I had to be in Gryffindor, I had to be with them.